Showing posts with label Paranormal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Paranormal. Show all posts

Thursday, August 18, 2016

Cover Reveal: Love & Blood


Title: Love & Blood  
Author: Jessica Gibson
Genre: Paranormal Romance

Cover Designer: Belinda Boring
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Blurb: He was her death and she had loved him for it.
Bronwyn Fitzgibbons had run from her maker for twenty years, but he had found her again. Seeing Ronan brought back all the reasons she shouldn't love him, but also all the reasons she should.
Bronwyn is caught between Ronan her maker and the one who unchained her darkness, and Rider the vampire who had saved her and fed her humanity. Her heart will be torn apart in loving them both. Can she fight against her darkness or will it consume her?
Lines will be drawn. Battles will be fought. Who will claim her soul in the end?

Jessica Gibson is a recovering bookaholic, she's down from four books a week to a more reasonable one. It was that love of words and creativity that made her dream about writing her first book. That dream was hidden for years, always put on the back burner, filed away in the "someday" section, until her husband Matt gave her the kick in the pants she needed to actually get off her butt and write.
Jessica and Matt live in Southern California and have a serious addiction to reality tv shows like Pawn Stars, American Restoration, and Bachelor in Paradise. They have one amazing son who runs circles around them both.
Author Links:



Friday, July 29, 2016

Freebie Book Blitz: Gemini




Title: Gemini
Author: Dylan Quinn
Genre: NA Urban Fantasy Romance

Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Blurb:  Twin Souls. One Sacrifice.
Northwestern University senior Zoe Adams has spent her fifth incarnation on the run. Abused and abandoned by those she once trusted, Zoe turns her back on a duty her soul accepted lifetimes ago to focus on a music career in this one. Until her Gemini's untimely arrival forces Zoe to choose between a love she can't remember and a life she's always dreamed of.
Cade Adams has waited twenty-one years to reclaim his beloved soul mate, but his elation is short lived. As Zoe struggles to let go of her human life, demons from Cade and Zoe's past threaten the Gemini, and they find themselves living on borrowed time.
The Tree of Souls is empty, and only the Eternal Sacrifice can refill it. Is forgotten love worth dying for, or is five incarnations more than one soul can take? With more than just the fate of their reunion at stake, love becomes an Eternal Sacrifice Zoe and Cade may not escape.






Since sneak reading her first big girl romance at the age of eleven, Dylan's been addicted to Happily Ever Afters. Playing pretend with swoon-worthy book boyfriends and their strong leading ladies often keeps Dylan sleep deprived, though she seldom complains about dreaming in dialogue.
With juxtaposed interests, Dylan writes it all ~ Character driven romance in NA, YA and adult, from sticky sweet to taboo heat ~ Urban Fantasy to Contemporary Romance and Romantic Suspense. Nothing's off limits.
When she's not writing guilty pleasures, Dylan plays stage mom to her daydreamer offspring in the Midwest. This Music fangirl goes nowhere without her beats and playlists. She has an affinity for Moscato and chocolate-covered strawberries. Dreams of singing on the Voice with Adam and Christina, and fantasizes about getting trapped in Mystic Falls with Damon Salvatore.
Author Links:
Buy Links:
#Free with #KindleUnlimited
Gemini Excerpt published with permission © 2016 Dylan Quinn
Cade
While I held Zoe, every nerve woke from its slumber. My heartbeat increased and a hum of energy surged through me. Just being near her was intoxicating.
I craved to kiss her lips, but I wouldn't. Not until she sought me to.
Until her body spoke to me.
"So what can you tell me?" She asked. "What's the plan?"
"The plan is you get to know me. The way all relationships develop." I released her just enough to look into her eyes. "We spend time together, and your heart will answer the rest. And when you so choose, I’m yours—heart and soul."
Although in time, she would understand that I already was.
"What's the catch? Other than giving up my life here? I need all the information if I'm going to make a decision this important."
"There’s a reason you can’t be privy to all the secrets of this life. This must be a decision based on your soul. No logic can go into choosing love."
Her eyes narrowed, and her irritation returned.
"Well in case you've missed the past millennium, people today don't just fall in love overnight. Life's not a Disney movie."
She pulled away, and I let her go.
Zoe was right. Unions in modern times were complicated. Raz said there were many variables humans took into account when choosing a mate, and Zoe, although the same soul, had different experiences during each incarnation. I couldn’t force her to love me or to choose our life together, as much as I wanted to.
Each of her lives was a lesson for me as well—in relinquishing control. All I could do was trust in her heart and our love. Trust her soul would return to me.
"Humanity is about choice. I would never force you to love me. And I would never choose my happiness over yours, but yes. I am hoping your heart will choose me."
Her breathing slowed, and her lips parted slightly, just enough to send my heart racing.
My Gemini mark began to pulsate. To burn.
I needed to kiss her.
She needed to kiss me.
After thousands of years loving Zoe, I could read her body as if it were my own.
Searching for what Raz called her tells, I first regarded her eyes. They were always the most expressive. They danced between mine and my mouth. Her breaths became shallow. A pink flush spread across her cheeks as she inched toward me, shifting nervously between her feet.
Should I try? Part of me was unsure, but my body betrayed my wits.
I’d waited twenty-one years for this moment.
I could wait no longer.
I moved toward her, inhaling her sweet scent, and rid the space between us.
Her eyes grew wider, and her lips parted. Waiting. I could hear her heart pulsing rapidly.
Her body gave her answer.
"My greatest desire is for you to find happiness." I stepped closer, picked up a long strand of her dark locks and tucked it behind her ear. Running my fingers along her jaw, I whispered across her cheek.
"You have no memory of a life before this."
I gently grasped her chin, stroked her bottom lip with my thumb, and edged toward her.
"But I've seen our life together."
I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her closer, our lips now fractions apart.
Her eyes never left mine, and her body trembled in my arms.
"And I will always. Choose us."
Her breath breezed across my cheek as I pressed my lips to hers. Soft. Gentle. Trembling beneath mine. The tingling sensation I’d missed so much returned, running rampant throughout my body.
I pulled back, not more than a centimeter, to gauge her response.
Her eyes remained closed, lips parted. Waiting for my return.
I brushed a kiss gently, then deeper into her.
She allowed me to explore her soft lips. They parted further still, and I edged my way in, exploring her sweet mouth.
An intense force rushed through my veins, to my chest and arms. Her life force burned within every muscle. My body that longed for her was now alive from her touch.
Zoe fell into my embrace, letting go of all the tension she'd been holding. She enfolded her arms around my neck, pressed her chest against mine, and gently tugged at my hair. Her hands ran down my cheeks, then to my shoulders and waist.
She pressed her kiss deeper into mine, soft at first, then fervently, as if this was our last.
One block at a time, her wall was crumbling—the pain replaced with a longing for our love. Soon, her memories would resurface, and I would have my Chayah back. Our souls Converged as one.
Zoe broke our kiss, pulled back and gulped a breath of air. She opened her eyes, her body still quaking in my arms. A minute passed. Her gaze drifted up, and a single tear slid down her cheek.
"It's you," she whispered.
I placed my hands on her face, held her cheeks gently, and gazed into her emerald eyes.
“It's me."







Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Cover Reveal: Friction


Title: Friction (Frenzy, #4)
Author: Casey L. Bond
Genre: YA Paranormal
Cover Designer: Cover Me Darling
Model: Daniel Wells
Cover Photography: Cassy Roop of Pink Ink Designs
Expected Release Date: Early August 2016
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Blurb: 
A cure has been found for both the Infection and Vampirism, and Porschia Grant must take this news out of the colony. Between her friends volunteering to go with her and a well-planned route, the first journey should be easy. But when they make it to Mountainside, things are strange. The people are frightened of female night-walkers and won’t say why.

When the excursion takes a wrong turn, Porschia’s friends make a decision that will impact the rest of their lives. They expect to save Porschia from the evil contained in The Manor; they don’t expect to have to save her from herself.

When everything goes wrong, who will be left to pick up the pieces and save Ford from a threat no one could have seen coming?

What will happen when they risk everything to save one?



Award-winning author Casey L. Bond resides in Milton, West Virginia with her husband and their two beautiful daughters. When she’s not busy being a domestic goddess and chasing her baby girls, she loves to write young adult and new adult fiction. You can find more information about Bond’s books via the following links: 
Buy Links: #Free with #KindleUnlimited Frenzy: http://amzn.to/29P92Jg Frantic: http://amzn.to/29P9cGp Frequency: http://amzn.to/29VpTxG

Monday, June 13, 2016

Cover ReVamp: Carnelian


Title: Carnelian (Book 1 of The Chalcedony Chronicles)
Author: B. Kristen McMichaels
Genre: Teen, Clean New Adult, College, Time Travel, Paranormal
Cover Designer: Jessica Allain
Blurb: 

Everyone has a past, but for most it isn’t so far in the past as Seth Sangre. His past is literally from thousands of years ago. Seth’s past led him to the present seeking something that might help him save his country from destruction. He has been in the present for over three years now, and he just found exactly what he has been looking for. Mari had dreams of college being a fresh start, one where she would start over and not fall for the good looking player like high school. Unfortunately for her, that’s exactly what ends up falling into her lap on the first day she moves into the dorms. Now she has to hold to her promise to herself not fall for the handsome Seth Sangre. But he doesn’t plan to make it easy for her. Seth has already marked her as his next conquest.

As the semester progresses, Mari learns that Seth might just have a past of his own that’s literally in the past. Suddenly, Mari finds her future along with her past put into question. She’s connected to Seth far more than she ever wanted to be, and maybe he isn’t the player who she thought he was. If Mari can trust her heart enough to follow him, Seth will lead Mari on an adventure of a lifetime-and reveal family secrets she never knew existed.


B. Kristin McMichael is the author of YA and clean NA paranormal fiction. Her
vampiric "Night Human World" includes the YA coming of age series "The Blue Eyes Trilogy" and the spin-off adventure series "The Day Human Trilogy". She's also the author of the NA time travel romance series "The Chalcedony Chronicles".
The Blue Eyes Trilogy: http://bkmc.me/LegendoftheBlueEyes
The Day Human Trilogy: http://bkmc.me/DayHumanPrince
The Chalcedony Chronicles: http://bkmc.me/Book1Carnelian
For more information on all of her books, visit http://www.bkristinmcmichael.com
Subscribe to her mailing list for new release notifications and deals: http://www.bkristinmcmichael.com/list
B. Kristin graduated with her PhD in biology at Ohio State where she worked as a scientist before taking her passion of writing full-time. Besides writing, she enjoys chasing her kids, playing outside, and baking cookies.
B. Kristin McMichael lives in Ohio with her husband and three children. If you don’t find her writing, then she probably has a book in her hand. Make sure to stop by and say hi on her social media.
Author Links:
I closed my book and looked up from under the maple canopy to the blue sky above. I had a normal life, but girls in books always went on adventures. I guess that was what going far off to college was to me, an adventure. My future was already planned, but I’d give anything to be one of those heroines. I wanted to live the life I found in these books. I was still lost in thought over the ending when there was a thump on my lap. College students were walking all around and a few tossing a football between them. I looked down expecting to see a football.

It wasn’t a football. The head of a perfectly cute guy was lying across my lap. He had tipped over from sleeping next to me and stayed fast asleep, even after his fall. I looked at him and waited for him to wake. I mean, his fall startled me out of my daydreaming. He didn’t wake. He kept sleeping peacefully.

He was gorgeous—-underwear model material. His dark hair had a glint of red in it and was splayed across his forehead. He had high cheekbones and perfectly-shaped lips. Stubble ran across his cheeks, and it seemed like it had been days since he had shaved. I looked at his fluttering, sleeping eyes and wondered what color they were. Mystery man just kept sleeping, like he had often found himself on unknown girls’ laps, and it didn’t bother him. I needed to move soon, but I was stuck, and I couldn’t help but admire him. He had his shirt off. It was draped partially over his shoulder now, but mostly on the ground beneath him. My eyes wandered down him to find he was very fit. All of the muscles around his shoulders and arms were perfectly defined, along with his washboard abs. His athletic shorts were low on his hips, showing off more than I had been close to in a long while since I’d attended an all-girls high school. I turned my head away before my eyes drifted any further. I had to stop checking out this guy. I mean, yes he literally fell into my lap, but I was beginning to feel like a creeper. How could he still be sleeping?

He murmured a few words in his sleep. “Maat mitra.” I didn’t know what that meant, and I was sure they were another language. Beautiful boy spoke another language, at least in his dreams. A language I had never heard. He continued to talk softly enough that only I could hear him, but none of it was in English, or any language I knew, for that matter. He was foreign, beautiful, and laying across my lap half naked. If I were a bit bolder in my ways, I’d say I hit the lottery. This was going to go down as the oddest start to my school year, but an embarrassing one once he woke up and found me drooling over him.

Friday, June 3, 2016

Release Day Blitz: Elixxir


Title: ELIXXIR
Author: Deena Remiel
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Blurb:
Callie has secrets, too many to count. For twenty years she's been living a lie as Callie Worthington, hiding from the monsters who brutally murdered her parents for possession of the Elixxir of Life. Unsuccessful before, their killers have found her and will stop at nothing to acquire the Elixxir. And see her dead.


Nathanael has a couple of secrets, too. A nasty one in particular blurs the line separating Good from Evil. As an immortal Brethren Warrior, though, he must retrieve the Elixxir before it falls into the wrong hands. Just how he's going to get it out of Callie's is the big question.

Tempers flare as Callie and Nathanael reach out to each other with their own hidden agendas. She needs his protection. He needs the Elixxir. Will their fiery passion lead to lasting love, or will their web of intrigue ultimately destroy them both?

Secrets, lies, and love's loyalties tested. What price for immortality? What price for love?


Deena spends her time playing in the Garden of Good and Evil as she writes fantasy, paranormal romance, and suspense. She’s been known to have downed a few beers with her angels, and even put Satan in his place a time or two. She’s fascinated with the concept of immortality and all its implications. Gilbert, Arizona, near her beloved Superstition Mountains, is where she and her family call home.
Author Links:
“They don’t make baggy jeans anymore, Nate! Now come on—” Callie flew her hands up. “This is the tenth pair I’ve tried on. I’m picking one and taking it. Enough is enough. It’ll be midnight before we make it to the station at the rate we’re going.”

“Then I’ll get you a bigger size and a belt. That’ll make them baggy and saggy. Perfect for blending. What size are you?” She gave him a look of death. “What? Just tell me so I can get you a bigger size. I promise I won’t tell anyone.” She raised six fingers. He turned and went to the jeans rack to pick out the larger size.

“Here, try these on.”

She sighed and took the pair into the dressing room. When she came out she looked miserable. He smiled. “See, that’s what I’m talking about.”

“Great, glad you’re happy to see me looking so frumpy.”

She’d pouted so adorably, it took him by surprise. She trudged back into the dressing room. He couldn’t help himself, and took a quick look around. Seeing no attendants nearby at the moment, his adventurous side had to follow. He moved the dressing room curtain aside and stepped in, drawing it back around him for privacy.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” She swung around and whispered vehemently.

He towered over her, backing her up against the mirror and put one hand on either side of her head. Careful to leave only enough space so their bodies wouldn’t touch, he looked her straight in the eyes and whispered back. “For your information, you would look sexy as hell in a potato sack, and still do in those jeans.” He winked and left as her jaw dropped.

What the hell was that all about? Did he do what I think he did? Damn. The man just came on to me! Anger warred with arousal as she tore the tags off her new clothes and collected her things from the bench. She whipped the curtain open and stormed out toward the cashier’s counter where the insufferable oaf leaned nonchalantly.

She gave the tags to the salesgirl, smiled, and turned to him, speaking in a hushed but intense voice. “You and I are gonna have words when I’m done here.” She heard him snort as she turned back to the girl and smiled, paying for her clothes, but paying him no mind. Grabbing the plastic bag with her own shorts and top inside, she marched past Nathanael and out the door.

“Have a great night!” an oblivious saleswoman called out to her. She waved her off with a grunt and a “Whatever.”

She watched as the overly-confident Neanderthal sauntered out of the store and headed straight over to her. Even though they were outside, he seemed to take up all the usable space in the immediate vicinity.

“You got words for me, Red?”

“I got plenty for you, Nate.” She poked his chest, trying to push him back a bit. “Wanna hear some? How about, you’re a jerk for walking into my dressing room without permission? How about, what the hell was that back there, asking my dress size and calling me sexy as hell? How about—”

Her next words were gobbled up by a hot, urgent mouth pressed against her own. Strong hands held her shoulders, guiding her closer to his body as he deepened his assault on her lips. At first, she didn’t know what to do. He’d shocked the hell out of her with his aggression. She couldn’t help noticing some of her protective walls had been torn asunder, and well-guarded ramparts were crumbling. Eyes that at first had flown open wide were now fluttering closed as her mind claimed temporary insanity.

She gave in. Her hands crawled up his stomach to his chest and on up to his face, where she held him and retaliated with her own brand of attack. Their tongues, like swords, thrust and parried while she let her hands roam onward through his thicket of wavy black hair.

A horn blared, bringing her back to reality and the cracked sidewalk where she stood, with lips being molested by a beautifully dangerous man. Not again! I won’t fall for another employee of Brethren Security! She ripped herself away and stepped back. Breathing heavily, she shot him a look she hoped would convey death if he so much as moved an inch toward her. In case he wasn’t good at reading signals, she raised her hands to stop any forward advance. To his credit, he looked possibly even more stunned than she, and stood his ground.

“I…I’m sorry. First, you were looking all pouty, and then you were in my face all angry, and I don’t know what came over me.” He raked a hand through his hair.

“You don’t know? Well, I’d hate to see what you’d do when you do have your wits about you.” 

Friday, April 8, 2016

Guest Blog: The Part That Doesn't Burn


The Part That Doesn’t Burn
Goetia Series
Book One
Sam Poling

Genre: Dark Fantasy

Publisher: Tirgearr Publishing

Date of Publication: March 23rd, 2016

ISBN: 9781310401916
ASIN: B01BW0Q2Y4

Number of pages: 319
Word Count: 97,000

Cover Artist: Cora Graphics

Book Description:

In an overpopulated city-state where technology and magic are forbidden by the corrupt church, young witch, Mirabel Fairfax, plots the creation of a deadly plague to cull the burdensome rabble.

That is, until she falls in love with the very alchemist she has been deceiving.

Now, with soul-hungry geists flooding the city, the church scrambling for their prey, and her own mind at war with itself, Mirabel must decide what she's fighting for before she loses everything to the evils of Autumnfall.



Excerpt:

Mirabel waited in the darkness.  Each passing second made it exponentially less likely the power would return.
“Mirabel? Did we lose power?” Felix’s voice quivered in the darkness.
“It should return momentarily.”
They waited. Mirabel could practically feel Felix’s demeanor evaporating.
“M-Mirabel?”
“Unbelievable, the singular time I am protecting company on the geistlines, a train dies. We are not coal powered. We are coming to a stop. Perhaps your pessimism rang true. Sour fortune must have followed you from Haugen. We need to leave.”
“L-leave? As in, leave the train, and go out there?”
“Felix, without power the only thing stopping a geist from swooping in here and taking your face off is nothing. One hundred percent nothing. Essentially, we already have the cons of being outside, along with the narrow space of being inside. Not a survivable combination.”
Without hesitation Felix took to gathering his tools, and corralling them into his bags.
“No time for that.”
She tugged him out of their room and through the train car. One side of the car featured the cabins. Asleep and unaware, no one else left their rooms. Windows with their blinds drawn and a faint cyan shimmering through adorned the other side.
“They’re lining both sides of the tracks. How long do we have?” said Felix.
“Geist behavior is a constant mystery, even to me, but eventually some will strike. Even those with eternity run out of patience.”
They reached the door to the next car and Mirabel mashed on the panel. Nothing. No power, no doors. She tried the manual handle, but it wouldn’t budge. If only Miss Perfect-Priestess were here, then the door wouldn’t be able to fly open fast enough.
“Oh bother,” she said.
“Door haunted too?”
“Handle denies me. Seems rusted, and I wonder if they automatically power lock.”
She could barely make out Felix’s nervous wince. “I wouldn’t expect that, Mirabel. Emergency situations would turn fatalities.”
“That is not happening with us.” She put her weight on the lever. It didn’t amount to much, and the lever knew it.
“Let me try.”
Felix consisted of average build and height, if not a tad lanky. Certainly not the strong type. Petite Mirabel stood quite small, a whole head shorter, also not the strong type, but she expected she could generate more strength. The alchemist didn’t have the mind for it.
“Felix, darling, put your hands here.” She directed his hands next to hers. “Press down on three, yes?”
Violet light washed over the handle they gripped before she got to “one.” She didn’t have to turn around to know its source. It traveled up her arms and across the door. If another passenger had opened a blind, the light source wouldn’t be nearing them.
“Three-three-three,” she shouted.
Felix threw down on the handle alongside her. Perhaps he did have the mind for it when terrified. With a shriek the lever punched into the open position, and the partners threw their hands into the crevice at the door’s left.
“Get the blasted thing open. Pull, Felix, do not look back.”
She made a mistake. Everyone looks back when instructed not to. He turned his neck and got an eyeful of something that forced a spate foul language. Such words didn’t suit him. Pulling with whatever force her slender arms could muster, she joined his blunder and looked over her shoulder.
A geist, two-thirds down the corridor, drifted closer. Its face partially lifted from its head, hanging a few inches from where it belonged. The glowing wisp mimicked the body it used to have, but poorly. The translucent skin melted and slid ever downward. She knew the face would contort any moment: the precursor to assault. And it had the gut-wrenching violet hue. Of all the geists to enter first, it had to be a damned giftgeist. She had no hope of generating enough magic to destroy it before it reached them.
The broken door started to grind open. She fit her thin body part way into the opening. Her heels dug into the carpet and her back braced against the door’s narrow edge, with her hands pressing against the wall. “Felix, pull.”
The geist twisted into a monster far fiercer than before; its face warped into elongated grief and its jaw stretched to the side to give a dry, raspy howl. Passengers meandering into the hall heard it. They slung their own screams and ran the opposite way. The worst decision during a geistline incident: running toward the rear of the train. They wouldn’t live long.
She reached above her head and flicked her fingers. “You want electricity, you fromping door? H-have some.” More white flashes fluttered between her fingers with each flick. “Come on, I had this spell mastered yesterday.”
“Mirabel? Mirabel,” yelped Felix. “It’s-it’s coming.”
“Simmer. I am focusing.”
“Focus faster!”
With a final flick, current rushed from the witch’s fingertips up into the door mechanisms. She had no idea what it accomplished, but the lights around the immediate vicinity flashed, including the door panel. Her left hand dropped and swatted it. The door grinded opened halfway before its lights died again. Halfway gave them more than enough space. The partners darted through into the next car. Glancing back, Mirabel saw the geist stop and turn to its side. Another passenger had peeked out of their cabin an arm’s length from the specter. It shot from Mirabel’s view before the rattled cries of a man and woman reached her ears.
Felix stopped as abruptly as the geist had. “It’s attacking someone.”
“Keep moving.”
“Mirabel, you’ve got to do something, there are three cars full of people back there.”

“And we are the only valuable ones.”



"Would you ever give up writing, even if you never made any sales?"

Sam Poling – THE PART THAT DOESN’T BURN

Every writer has something different to tell when they are asked about their motivations. Some do it to advance the art of writing itself, some are compelled by the stories and characters circling around in their head, and others want the career of creative writing to save them from their tedious day jobs. In most cases it’s a mixture of those reasons, and others. But do we give up writing altogether if we don’t make the sales?

No, we don’t give up. I never carried a checklist around with me and asked the question of all the writers across the globe, but I am confident the vast majority of our breed would not stop writing. We simply would not be able to, myself included. The characters don’t stop nagging, the ideas don’t stop coming, and the urge to create doesn’t dissipate because we aren’t being handed money. Art is a human drive, a need. Each of us have that need within us, and it must be expressed. In my case, it is expressed in creative writing.

However, part of the need to create art is the need to share it. It is expression, after all. It is social, and we are social creatures. We evolved to be. For myself, as I expect it is for many writers, sales are more important to us because they show we’ve done this. We’ve shared our experience and made a small change in the world. Deep down, even if just one person reads the novel it feels as though it was worth it.

Failure in sales can be punishing. It can make one feel dejected, to be sure. But that is only because we strive to become better, as all artists do. We want to see that translation, that reflection of the effort we put into our work. And sometimes we don’t always get that. And it doesn’t matter. It’s more room to grow, more avenues to explore. It’s painful, but thick skin and fortitude are what define the writer, if not the artist.

The day job does get in the way. It is important: it pays the bills and brings value to your life as you do your part for society. The day job is honorable, noble, and fulfilling if you take pride in your work. But it still gets in the way when you need to create that next masterpiece. Because of this, sales do take on another meaning. If they grow high enough, they could be the ticket to a life where your most beloved hobby is your career. But that treasure has to be hard fought and earned. And it requires a massive amount of luck.


The link between monetary compensation and art of any kind has always been seeded in this frank, honest relationship. Sales are not an excuse to fail and forfeit; they are fuel to help you grow. They do help, they do encourage, but in the end our human desire to create, teach, and learn supersedes it.

About the Author:

Sam Poling has been writing fantasy and science fiction for the thrill of it his entire life, from short stories to screenplays. His love for each of the subgenres led to dedication to writing genre-skirting fiction with all the elements that make up the human condition. He holds a strong enthusiasm for medical studies and currently works as a medical assistant in a large clinic while taking classing for nursing. He also serves on a health and safety committee, including disaster preparedness and infection control. His interest in epidemiology and medical science tends to spill over into his writing endeavors.

Author’s site: www.samuelpoling.com


Twitter: @SamuelPoling


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