Friday, January 29, 2016

Shadow Lord – Episode 1 (Ghosts Are Real)

Shadow Lord
by, K.N. Lee

Lord Kristoff wakes up to the night.
It is his playground.
The leader of the creatures that haunt your nightmares, Kristoff is not your average wealthy playboy. He searches the world for the right one. The one to complete his dynasty.
His queen.
Willa, a kind-hearted artist, with a boring job at the museum and a dark and mysterious past, might just quench his thirst. He knows her true secret...about the power she tries to keep hidden.
Kristoff must make her fall for him.
Before she ends his century-old life.
New chapter every week.

Wednesday, January 27, 2016

Kristyn Eudes' Top 5 Favorite Authors **Fated Capture Tour & Kindle Giveaway**

Kristyn Eudes' 

Top 5 Favorite Authors 

**Fated Capture Tour & Kindle Giveaway**

Please welcome today's guest, Kristyn Eudes. With bold characters, fun plots, and swoon-worthy book boyfriends, she graces Write Like a Wizard with her top 5 favorite authors, a look at her book, "Fated Capture," and a kindle giveaway! Enjoy.

Top 5 Favorite Authors

Jude Deveraux
PC cast
James Patterson
Kristen Cashore
Colleen Hoover

I am a normal seventeen-year old girl living a normal life... Well as normal as a Half-Human, Half-Craecia girl can be anyway while trying to avoid becoming an unwilling hostage of the Orfeo in the process of saving my best friend and brother from said Orfeo. Ok so I wasn't normal and neither was my life, but it wasn't all bad either. I am the Chosen. I know! Sounds so cool right! My very
existence threatens everything Ose the leader of the Orfeo has obtained. I just don't know how to bring him crumbling to knees yet. That's where Lyon comes in ... *sigh. Yep I'm smitten. HEY! Don't judge me. If you had seen him you'd be smitten too. He's all hot, sexy, protective wildness rolled into a beautiful, British-speaking male specimen and he was created just for me. Together we will do everything in our power to stop the evil from spreading and destroying the world.

Author Bio:
Kristyn Eudes was raised in a small town in Alabama, where she recently married her best friend and love of her life.  Together, they are raising their combined large family  along with their newly adopted Tuxedo kitty, Fluffy.  

When not writing the next book in her Fated Keepers series, Kristyn obsessives over The Vampire Diaries, enjoys reading books by her favorite authors and brainstorming her next writing project.  
She loves all kinds of music and art, believing that creativity opens the soul. Her favorite hobbies are horseback riding and volleyball and she absolutely adores baseball (Go Red Sox) !!!

Social Media:

Tuesday, January 26, 2016

An Interview with Author, K.L. Horvath

An Interview with Author, 

K.L. Horvath

Today Write Like a Wizard features a brilliant author that has been signed with BookTrope Publishing. I've read her debut novel, The Undays of Aralias Lyons, and it is captivating. Check out my interview with her and let me know what you think of her answers and synopsis of the book!
Why do you write?
When I’m writing I feel like my truest self as if writing is what I was meant to do. I have this incredible imagination and writing helps me find a way to express it. And I’ve wanted to be able to move someone that I’ve never met just as other writers have moved me, to give someone a sense of wonderment and beauty in this world.
What made you decide to sit down and actually start something?
I’ve always enjoyed writing. When I was a child I wrote poems to my grandmother in blue crayon. My first book I began after college and it was kind of a test to see if I could do it. It was a young adult novel that I’d planned as a series of four books. That first book ended up being four hundred pages long.
Do you write full-time or part-time?
I write whenever I can. But I mainly write part-time because I do have another job to consider.
Do you have a special time to write or how is your day structured?
I like to write more in the evenings than in the mornings. If I have a day free I’ll usually go to my favorite coffee shop and write from five to eight hours straight. I’ll sit there with my chai tea and little by little pour out words onto the pages.
Do you write on a typewriter, computer, dictate or longhand?
I’ll write on my laptop. Once in a while I’ll feel like I need to try something new just to jolt the imagination and I’ll break out my pencil and a plethora of notebooks.
Where do your ideas come from?
I start with an interesting, main character and write my story around them. I’ll then sketch out a plot and go back and develop that character’s flaws, desires and taste in things and then it’s a race to the end. 
What is the hardest thing about writing?
For me it’s the self-doubt. You are working on a book for months and months and perhaps years never knowing if a single person will enjoy it or understand it.
What is the easiest thing about writing?
When you’re in a great writing rhythm and the words are dripping off your fingertips so fast you can hardly keep up.
How long on average does it take you to write a book?
It takes about two years.
Do you ever get writer’s Block?
Yes, I think all writers eventually experience writer’s block.
Any tips on how to get through the dreaded writer’s block?

I think putting the writing aside and letting it all fall out of your head for a little while helps. Sometimes you’ve just been pushing too hard on it and nothing seems to be working. In those times I’ll take a bit of a break and let it breathe then go back to it and something kindles my imagination again and then I’m unblocked. 

About the AuthorkerryK.L. Horvath is a fantasy author, whose books are filled with magical realism, romance and elements of the fantastical with a good dash of humor. Born in a small town in Ohio where corn grew like wildfire and horses were her next door neighbors she developed a deep love of nature and art. She adores Monet’s sailing ships and his collection of hay stacks.

Monday, January 25, 2016

Write Like A Wizard 2016 Writing Challenge Entry- "By A Nose" Michael W. Holman

Write Like A Wizard 2016 Writing Challenge Entry

In 3000 words or less, tell a story about a teenaged boy that has prophetic dreams. What happens when he can't wake up from one of the dreams?

Title:  "By A Nose"Michael W. Holman

Brent Larson groaned while in his semi-conscious state and rolled over in his effort to get away from the stench that permeated his dorm room at the Intrepid Academy.  He was reluctant to be brought back to his mundane world of monotone lectures when he was in the middle of a dream where he was about to rescue the Academy's most beautiful substitute teacher, Miss Olesen, from 30-foot logs that rolled down a hill from a jackknifed truck accident.  Besides, it had been agreed that one of the Sandman Project technicians would wake him by remote notification when it was time for his day to start, not some putrid smell he would not subject an attacking feral dog to.  Alas, rolling over in his bunk didn't work.  Ditto his thick-blanket-to-the-face maneuver.

"Okay, this is just stupid," he said as he sprung up and, annoyed, put his foot gear on.  He had slept in his more worn out street clothes since a "suspicious parcel" incident during his freshman year had led to a full evacuation of the entire campus two years before.  It was that 2:35 AM adventure, caused by what turned out to be a homeless person's collection of pudding mix boxes with a manual-wind clock inside a Glad trash sack left forgotten by a utility shed, which prompted Brent to keep his socks on in the colder months and his Nikes ready for action.

"If you're referring to our current circumstances in which your smitten girlfriend has managed to burn her popcorn in the break area's microwave oven again, we're in agreement," George Lopez declared with a quick look up from his studies at the table they shared.  Brent's roommate adjusted his wire rim glasses and focused again on his laptop as he added, "Going into a common area out of uniform on a weekday morning also qualifies as stupid, by the way, since the Enforcer is on duty for this rotation.  That's just my opinion."

"You're always ready to grace everyone with your opinion, Lopes, that's why I pray every night you and the Enforcer will never again be allowed to have a debate during Public Forums that fall on Mondays.  You should just ask her out and get your business handled.  Who knows, maybe she'll let you drive her broom."

Brent finished tying his shoes and began to walk for the door, which had been opened by Miss Enford, also known as the Enforcer, when she made her building rounds that always commenced promptly at 6:45 AM on weekdays.

"Students can't date faculty," he heard George point out uselessly behind him as he left.  "And she drives a black Jaguar.  It even still has its United Kingdom plates."

"As if I care," Brent muttered.

 He took the concrete steps two at a time up to the fourth floor, which was co-ed, and, unfortunately, where the extra crispy popcorn smell originated from.  His roommate could be a massive pain at times, but he had been spot-on so far as where ground zero was for the disaster site.  Many of his classmates walked around with washrags held over their lower faces, and some in the break/dining area had irritated eyes, too.  That included Cassandra Tilley, the pretty junior he had retrieved a scarf out of an oak tree for after a wind gust within an hour of their Freshman Orientation. 

 She had left smiley faces on Sticky Notes for him on the Larson/Lopez whiteboard mounted on their dorm's door ever since, hence his roommate's "smitten girlfriend" remark.  It wasn't like that.  Cassandra and some David guy who went to one of Lake Oswego's high schools were an item, as anyone on Intrepid Academy's campus knew who didn't have trivia from every continent on the planet vying for prominence with lecture notes from the past three years in their brains.

Brent realized he had actually done well in the roommate sweepstakes as he made his way to where Cassandra and a few of her friends tried to munch on snacks without coughing in the remnant burned food haze.  For all his quirks, George was all right.  He didn't try to stash contraband, such as recreational drugs or booze, and if he did listen to his 1960's vintage pop music, he was good about using headphones.

"Hey, here's one of my favorite morning crews," he hailed the girls cheerfully as he took a seat at their table across from Cassandra.  "Please tell me George is wrong for once, and it was someone else who burned the popcorn, Cass," he mumbled quietly.

She just looked at him with a remorseful expression, and he wondered if her red eyes had to do with the haze or the fact she had caused it.

"Aw heck," he sighed, and crossed the room to get a box of tissues, which he put in front of her when he returned.  "Never heat popcorn in that particular microwave using the button which says 'popcorn' my friend.  You're lucky the Enforcer wasn't here when it happened.  She would have chewed you out in front of everyone, after she made us all evacuate the building and stand around in the deep freeze outside."

"Very lucky," Cassandra agreed as she nodded.  "And I appreciate your keeping your voice down the way you did when you asked about who did it so people don't get mad at me."  Her dark, long hair swung as she looked out at the campus below their table's window.  "Where do you suppose she is?"

"Oh, Enford probably finished her rounds early," he mused aloud, and didn't notice the others had stiffened.  "Ha, I wouldn't be surprised if the witch is zipping her skinny butt around campus side saddle on her broom.  Nah, that's not fair of me.  She's too pretty to be a witch.  I heard the cougar actually has a Jaguar.  Is that appropriate for our fave British blonde or what?."  He noticed Cassandra and her friends had all gone pale.  "She's standing right behind me, I reckon."

"Good reckoning, Mister Larson.  Although I'm flattered you find me pretty, and as amused as I am about your speculation regarding my personal transport vehicle's make, I'm afraid you must trade this social confab of yours for the Applied Science Wing," Miss Enford said as she looked with raised eyebrows at what he wore.  "Miss Olesen would have been the designated faculty member to escort you there, but she rang in to say her arrival will be delayed because of a traffic accident.  At any rate, you are to proceed to your assigned lab quarters as is.  For you alone, the Academy's uniform rules have been waived temporarily.  Come on, then."

"Is it okay if Cassandra comes with us?  Her first class is Biology Prep, after all."

"Very well.  But we shan't dally about on the way there." 

Brent gave a low whistle as they headed for a cluster of single story buildings set apart from all other structures.

"Whoa, the only other time I've seen this many security guards walking the campus was after our bomb scare.  By the way, did Miss Olesen mention if Oregon State Police responded to that jack-knifed log truck accident on Interstate 5?"

He wanted to see if the campus' most stern disciplinarian would react, and he wasn't disappointed.

"Did you go online to find out about that?" she demanded as they arrived at the Applied Science Building.  "It's a violation of Academy guidelines to use campus time for non-study searches."

"Do you want to drop by my dorm room and check out my laptop?" Brent shrugged his shoulders.  "Be my guest.  George will be thrilled to see you, Miss Enford.  I think you're pretty, but he thinks you're beautiful.  If either of you want munchies, there's vending machines in here."

He nodded to the seated security guard, then gave the indignant, tight-lipped English woman and his amused friend a casual wave as he went down the building's wide central corridor.

"Let's go, Larson!  What did you do, get here by way of Australia?" an exasperated technician asked and gestured impatiently at a turned-down bed beside electronics equipment.  "Move!  What, do you think you're an undercover $25 million secret counter intelligence asset so you can stand around twiddling your thumbs?  Wake up and smell the coffee!"

"You need to lay off the coffee," Brent retorted as he sat on the bed to remove his shoes.  "I can never get to my deep sleep stage if you're yapping in my ear like some terrier, Steve."

"It's Scott, as I've told you umpteen times.  Lay down.  You know where these go by now, right?"

"Sure thing, Boss.  Let's do this," Brent looked around the sterile room as he applied two lead wires high on his forehead.  "Hey, your posse hasn't installed a nightlight in here yet.  I am appalled."

"You are a jackass.  Can you be serious for any length of time at all?"

"I dunno, I don't remember.  You would have to ask Dad about that."

Scott sighed heavily before he spoke again.

"Your dad saved my bacon three times while we were deployed in Iraq.  He and your mom are both salt-of-the-Earth people.  You're a good kid.  I get rather harsh sometimes because it's not one of your big toenails we're working with in here, it's your brain.  If I mess something up, you're a vegetable."

"I may be bad with names sometimes, but I'm with it enough to know you don't mess up.  Ever.  We've got this."

Brent offered his right hand, and Scott shook it earnestly before the teenager settled beneath a few plain white blankets.

"Okay.  See you in a few hours, Larson."

Not quite seven minutes later, Scott gestured toward his computer monitor's screen to a subordinate technician.

"Wow, he's already sawing logs in there.  I guess he didn't get enough sleep last night."

"Look at his rapid eye movement statistics.  Where ever he is in the land of Nod, ten bucks says it's not exactly tranquil," the female intern remarked.  "And his pulse is still within the green range, but it's starting to flirt with the yellow zone, sir."

"Roger that.  Keep a sharp look out.  We'll abort this session if necessary."

Meanwhile, Brent found himself hiking on the sidewalk of a wide street.  There was an intersection with a side avenue that sloped upwards at a steep angle about a football field's length ahead.  He looked around at several surrounding buildings and realized where he was as heavy snow began to fall on the frozen ground and began to accumulate rapidly.  He realized the drifted snow represented elapsed time.  

"That's the intersection of Commercial and Ewald ahead, one of Salem's most dangerous spots in the winter," he told a tiger stripe cat which peered at him from under a nearby concrete birdbath.  "It's a good thing no one is trying to drive out here now.  There's ice under this snow on Commercial, and Ewald has to be just ridiculous."

That's when he saw a black Jaguar with a foreign license plate mounted in back headed south on Commercial, its cautious driver using the far right lane while a furniture truck gathered momentum as it came down Ewald.  The British luxury car got T-boned, and all he could do was watch.

"No!  Miss Enford, hang on!" he yelled and began to run, but he could not get any traction under his feet.

"Sir, Brent's pulse is 135 and climbing!  It's in the red zone," the intern said sharply and pointed urgently at Scott's monitor to get his attention away from another chart's data he examined.

"This session's terminated!  Wake him up!  Get him out of there!  Now!"

The dream repeated itself again.  Then again.

"Sir, the leads have malfunctioned.  I can't rouse him, and his pulse rate is going north of 150 beats per minute!"

Scott cussed in frustration and sprang out of his chair.

Before he could reach the lab room's partially ajar door, a horrid smell so bad it stung his eyes stopped him in his tracks.

"Marvelous.  Someone burns their popcorn now?  Really?" he sputtered, incredulous.

Brent woke up as he coughed violently.

"His pulse is returning to its normal green range, sir," the intern said, relieved, as she pinched her nostrils shut.

The teen dreamer rolled off the lab's bed and scrambled out to them in his stocking feet so wildly his right shoulder slammed into a wall.

"Scott, get Administration on the phone!  Tell them to contact Miss Enford and get her over here!  I don't know where she is on campus and  I've gotta talk to her!  Tell them it's important!"

One look in his eyes and the technician had no question about how serious his Army buddy's son was anymore.

"I read you.  Hang on."

In less than a minute, the boy and the intern watched Scott's eyebrows raise as he concluded his call with "Um, okay, I'll pass that on, thanks."

"Pass what on?" Brent fumed.  It was his turn to be impatient.

"They told me she was last seen coming this way with you.  As far as anyone knows, she never left this building."

Before Scott had finished his second sentence, Brent sprinted for the lobby, where he saw the no-nonsense English woman open one window while an obviously sheepish Cassandra sprung the latch of another, just before he bashed his left shin into a coffee table and landed in a sprawl after he crashed into the leather cushions of a long sofa.

"Egad!" Miss Enford exclaimed and walked over to him quickly, his friend right behind her.  "Right, then, let's have a look at your poor leg, you daft oaf.  Surely someone taught you not to careen about indoors like a drunken ostrich by now, I should think."

Cassandra gasped at the sight of Brent's five-inch red welt, but he could not have cared less in his desperation to get his message understood by the intended receiver.

"Miss Enford, please don't use Commercial Street when you leave campus tonight!" Brent almost shouted.  "Use some other way!  You've got to, for your own safety!"

"What?" she asked in a stunned whisper as Scott and his intern joined the trio.

"Sabrina, my advice is that you listen to this student," the technician told her firmly.  "He's a rare boy with a very specific dual gift.  Not only does he have prophetic dreams, he knows how to interpret them.  His accuracy rating is 98% according to our data we've compiled since he started here at Intrepid Academy as a freshman."

"Earlier this morning in my dorm, I dreamed Miss Olesen ran on a driveway below I-5 as a bunch of logs tumbled down an embankment toward her," Brent explained.  "But her feet were not making contact with the ground, and her Lady Nikes had tire treads instead of soles, so I knew in the real world she was driving near Eugene, known as 'Track Town USA' when she saw the log truck had jack-knifed and caused the traffic jam she got stuck in."

"I didn't take her call myself, but yes, that's where I heard the trouble was," Miss Enford recalled.  "Incredible."

Brent paused before he continued.

"Just a few minutes ago, in the lab, I had a recurring dream where a furniture truck's driver lost control of his rig on Ewald Avenue because of icy snow and smashed into the side of your Jaguar as you drove in the right lane of Commercial Street, in south Salem.  I tried to run and get to the accident to help you, but my feet had no traction.  It was way too real, too vivid, and it wouldn't quit."  He gestured outdoors with a sweep of his right arm.  "Look what's started to come out of the sky."

A few snowflakes drifted into the lobby, let in by the half-opened windows.

"I guess we can close up again," Cassandra ventured.  "The bad smell I caused by burning another packet of microwave popcorn is gone.  I'm sorry, everyone.  That was stupid."

Scott shook his head somberly.

"Actually, your mistake may have saved your friend's life.  He couldn't wake up from a very bad prophetic dream on his own, nor could my assistant and I bring him to consciousness with our equipment while his pulse rate began to go off the charts."

"So our poor drunk ostrich was awakened in the nick of time by way of a scorched snack," Miss Enford mused aloud.  "Jolly good.  Oh, and thank you, Mister Larson."

"Sure thing, you're welcome," Brent nodded, then smiled at Cassandra.  "One could say I outran serious trouble by a nose." 

***THE END***

Saturday, January 23, 2016

Angel Hands **Cover Reveal**

Angel Hands

 **Cover Reveal**

Today Write Like a Wizard features Cait Reynold's cover reveal of Angel Hands. Not only is she hilarious, talented, and super sweet, but she is a fellow Fabulous Fictionista! Enjoy the synopsis and cover reveal, and don't forget to pre-order today!

Sometimes, it is best to begin at the end. 

Angel Hands, by Cait Reynolds, begins at the end of The Phantom of the Opera, revealing, for the first time, the true story behind Leroux’s fantastical tale and the real fate of the Phantom himself. 

When the Opera de Paris is purchased and renovated, years after a mysterious fire nearly destroyed it, the Phantom finds himself unexpectedly resurrected - in the form of a young boy hired by the manager’s daughter to play pranks on the cast, crew, and audience. After all, the return of the infamous “Opera Ghost” can only be good for ticket sales, and Mireille Dubienne is determined to see her father’s investment become profitable. 

Plain, shrewd, and proud, Mireille pours the rage of her disappointed hopes and looming spinsterhood into helping her father manage the Opera de Paris and making it a success. 

What she doesn’t count on is the real “Opera Ghost” deciding he no longer wishes to be an
understudy in his own domain, the theater that Mireille believes is hers. 

The Phantom and Mireille push each other to the limits of their cunning to control and manipulate each other, with no game too low to play. With each passing day, the stakes get higher, until surrender is no longer an option for the Phantom or Mireille. 

Every trick and betrayal drives them toward a startling truth that will change more than one life forever: you can’t love what you hate…but you can desire it. 

You can pre-order it here - and it's free on Kindle Unlimited!

Cait Reynolds Bio:

Cait Reynolds lives in Boston area with her husband and 4-legged fur child. She discovered her passion for writing early and has bugged her family and friends with it ever since. When she isn’t cooking delicious meals, running around the city, rock climbing like a boss, or enjoying the rooftop deck that brings her closer to the stars, she writes. Reynolds is able to pull from real life experiences such as her kidney transplant, and her writing reflects her passion for life from having to face the darkest places and find the will to laugh.

Connect with Cait Reynolds

Thursday, January 21, 2016


¸.•'¸.•*'¨) ¸.•*¨)

(¸.•' (¸.•` COVER REVEAL ONE TO TAKE ¤ *.*¨*.¸¸.*¨`*

By Tia Louise
(Stuart & Mariska)
Coming Feb. 22, 2016!

Life is never simple.
Even perfect couples face storms.
The question is whether our love is strong enough to survive.
I believe it is.

She told me to leave.
If I leave, I take her with me.
~Stuart Knight


A STANDALONE ONE TO HOLD NOVEL. Due to strong sexual content and language, readers 18 and older, please.

Amazon: *coming soon!*

On Goodreads:
On Pinterest:
On Spotify:

Cover Design by Steven Novak,
Photography by R + M Photography,
Cover Model, Alfie Gordillo

What Readers are saying about One to Leave…

"FIVE STARS: Spanking, pulling hair, sexy growls, and hearty demands, just gives you a little taste as to what this sexy man is capable of."--Shayna Renee's Spicy Reads
"If you're looking for a super sexy cowboy with a past to fall in love with, One to Leave is definitely the book to pick up!" -Reading Past My Bedtime Reviews

★★★ RED HOT & FREE!!!!! ★★★
Meet Stuart & Mariska for FREE Today in “Taken,” the SUPERHOT specially packaged, short ONE TO TAKE primer!

“Taken”: A One to Take Primer
by Tia Louise
Stuart Knight is an injured Marine turned angry cowboy.
Mariska Heron is a beautiful young artist with vivid dreams and a healing touch.

When the two cross paths, their chemistry is explosive, their attraction undeniable. But Stuart has one thing on his mind--returning to active duty.

He says he's leaving. She walks away first. Still, neither of them can deny their hearts are taken.

Download “Taken” for FREE Now!

Amazon UK/CA/AU:

NOTE: "Taken" is the specially packaged "primer" for ONE TO TAKE, coming Feb. 22. It contains key scenes from ONE TO LEAVE, smoking-hot sexytimes, and everything you need to know to be ready to head back to Big Sky country. Due to strong sexual content and language, readers 18 and older, please.

For the FULL "Taken" story, get ONE TO LEAVE Today!
Google Play:

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