Showing posts with label Urban Fantasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Urban Fantasy. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 3, 2017

Review: Blood Shackles


Blood Shackles by Rosemary A Johns
Rebel Vampires Book 2
Published November 1, 2016 by Fantasy Rebel Limited

Synopsis:


Would you sacrifice your freedom to save your family? 

When vampires are the slaves and humans are the monsters, it's a dangerous game to love your Mistress. In a divided paranormal London, Light is the bad boy vampire of the Blood Lifer world, with a talent for remembering things. And a Triton motorbike. Since Victorian times he’s been forced to hide in the shadows. But not now. Not since someone hunted him down. When he’s bought by his Mistress, Light fights to escape. If he doesn’t, he’ll never solve the conspiracy behind the Blood Club.



WELCOME TO THE BLOOD CLUB

Who are these ruthless humans? And who betrayed the secret of the Blood Lifer world?



WHERE THE PREDATORS



London, Primrose Hill. Grayse is the slaver’s daughter. She buys Light, like he’s a pair of designer shoes. So why does Light feel so drawn to her? Especially when his family is still in chains. Will he risk everything – even his new love – to save them?



BECOME THE PREY



Does a chilling conspiracy lie behind it all? A stunning revelation leads Light to an inconceivable truth. To the dark heart of the Blood Club. If he can face his worst terrors, he can save his family and whole species from slavery.



Maybe he can even save himself.



Blood Shackles is the compelling second instalment in the bestselling fantasy series Rebel Vampires from the critically acclaimed author Rosemary A Johns. Experience a thrilling new suspense with vampires, Rockers and dark romance.


For fans of Night Huntress, Immortals After Dark, Anita Blake, Fever and Blood Dagger Brotherhood take a deep breath and dive into the spellbinding secret world of Blood Life. (Goodreads)


Review:

Still grieving over the lost of his Moon Girl, Light finds himself in an even more horrible predicament than ever before. 

Torture, suffering, deprivation, starvation, and extreme thirst are only a few of the things that Light must endure during his captivity. What's worst, is that it is only the beginning. Light and other's of his kind have been betrayed, captured and sold into slavery. Some being trained as sex slaves, others as workers, neither with free will. 

When Light is bought and sold he may have actually found his salvation. In the hands of the daughter of the man running the entire shindig. But will she truly betray her family to set him free? And even if she does, will he leave his family behind to live a life as a free man in love without chains?

Keep a box of Kleenex on standby while reading this heartrending installment of Rebel Vampires. There is nothing light about the story that is told. Johns paints such a vivid picture the reader will want to step into the pages, ready to run to the rescue but not knowing who they want to save first. 

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

Spotlight: A Campfire Nightmare


A Campfire Nightmare
Nightmare Series
Book One
Jeffrey Stagg

Genre: Urban Fantasy

Publisher: Stagg Literature, LLC

Date of Publication:  March 1, 2016

ISBN: 978-1517744441
ASIN: B01CRQKFZO

Number of pages: 344
Word Count: 117,824

Book Description:

IN AGES PAST, the Flathead Native Americans fought a war against a monstrous force that stalks the woods surrounding Flathead Lake. So says William Rox, legendary musician and director of the prestigious Colman’s Amateur Music Program, known as CAMP.

Jimmy Downs is thrilled to be attending CAMP—or he would be, if he weren’t being bullied by campers who seem to think wealth can buy talent. Jimmy doesn’t have money, but he can drum like no one else. As for the bullies, at least his best friend, Michael Munday, is with him. The two have had each other’s backs all of their lives.

But bullies are about to become the least of Jimmy’s worries. Dark, hulking figures begin surrounding the woods around camp…figures that bear more than a passing resemblance to Rox’s campfire stories.

Jimmy and Michael are about to become players in a very old war—assuming they survive.

Amazon       BN       Createspace


PROLOGUE
The black-cloaked figure knelt by the lake, examining the muddy soil. A great northern storm had rolled through hours ago, but the air was still frigid. Waves crashed against the stony shore, waterdrops splashing up against his waterproof black covering.
His fingers traced along the print clearly pressed into the mud. It was a large paw print, something like the shape of a wolf’s but the size of a bear’s. He examined the mark on the ground and then moved to where he should have found the creature’s front paws, but not surprisingly, he instead found what appeared to be humanlike handprints, with long, triangular fingernails jutting out from the tip of each finger. The cloaked man placed his own right hand within the print, knowing that the muddy outline was easily twice the size of his own pale hand.
His left hand tightened around the shaft of his bow as he stood up.
Even though it was nearing one in the morning, his eyes clearly made out the many prints that had been made throughout this particular clearing.
He had warned the other guardian that something was going on.
“Why so many?” the man asked aloud as he pulled down the hood of his cloak. “There shouldn’t be this many here anymore.”
“What’s that?” a British man’s voice called from the darkness.
A flashlight’s beam bobbed through the trees, weaving back and forth until it fell upon the pale man’s form. The man lifted one of his hands to block his sensitive eyes from the somewhat dim beam. He indicated the soil in front of him that marked the passing of their quarries.
“A pack,” the pale man told his companion, moving the tip of his weapon to indicate how many individual creatures had passed through there. “You should keep the camp closed this year.”
“No,” the huge British man answered, snapping his response a little more testily than he had wanted. “It needs to be open. You know just as well as I do that we need to stay open.”
“Even at the risk of the lives of hundreds of people?”
His companion stepped forward and jammed a double-edged longsword into the ground as he examined the pathway. The flashlight was a head lamp, mounted with a pair of bands that wrapped around his head. As his head shifted from one set of prints to another, a feeling of anger began flooding into his soul.
“I need you to thin out this pack. You can shoot the sods from afar, and with that horse of yours, you’ll be able to stay ahead of them.”
“I can do that,” the pale man agreed, pulling his hood back up, still watching the back of the big man.
“There’s something going on this year that we don’t understand quite yet,” the British man told his friend, standing up and pulling the sword from the moistened ground. “Something feels different. It feels wrong…and right at the same time.”
“Maybe the legends are true, and the natives’ stories are coming to pass,” the archer suggested, beginning to stroll into a particularly dark portion of the forest, his fingers tightening on the dark wood of his bow as he disappeared into the night.
Finding himself alone, the swordsman stood and peered up into the sky at the bright round moon hanging in the air, twinkling stars engulfing the night. This was Big Sky Country, and it was true to its name. His eyes searched the heavens, hoping that an answer would reveal itself.
He let out a huff of hot breath, and the air clouded before his flashlight dimming the light slightly.
Shaking his head and turning to stare at the spot where his companion had disappeared, he whispered to himself, “I hope not. We’re not ready for them yet.”
As his words disappeared into the night like his breath, a clear rumbling sound thundered through the night on his left. Reaching down slowly, he drew his sword once more, its silver blade sparkling with the light of the moon.
“God above, keep me safe that I might be able to open the camp.”
The rocky growl turned into a mix of a scream and a roar as the furry eight-foot monstrosity leaped at the man, humanlike hands reaching out with razor claws. Swinging the sword out wide, the man pivoted to meet the demon in the darkness.

About the Author:

Jeffrey was born in Ogden, Utah in 1989.

Born to a podiatrist from Utah and a rancher's daughter from Montana. Stagg was able travel throughout his childhood finding solace and inspiration in the wild.
His interest in nature has made Stagg realize that the melding of natural world with magic was where he could excel. To keep ideas alive, Stagg is an avid nature photographer, imagining book scenes wherever he travels.

While attending Weber State University, Stagg was able to work as an artisan cheese maker for the award winning Beehive Cheese Co. in Ogden, Utah. It was there that the details of A Campfire Nightmare came together. During the 5 years he was employed at Beehive, Stagg has created story lines for many series he is in the process of writing.

Now, Stagg works as an educator and works with students in reading and writing. Encouraging those around him to spend more time in books.






Tour giveaway

5 - $10 Amazon gift certificates 

Wednesday, April 27, 2016

Interview With The Villain: Trial By Charm


Title: Trial By Charm
Author: Jolene Buchheit
Genre: Young Adult Greek-Inspired Urban Fantasy
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Blurb: 

Seventeen-year-old Julia Wright doesn’t understand her friends’ obsession with boys. She proudly maintains her composure no matter who is in her presence – though some annoying and rude boys still manage to grate her last nerve. Then she is blackmailed into being the manager of the men’s swim team, and finds herself face to face with the worst of them all. Team Captain Vander Thelxinoe is the typical self-assured jock. He has the ability to change people’s minds at will, only his charms don’t work on Julia. Now he’s anxious to figure out why, and the closer he tries to get, the more desperate she is to stay away – especially when he somehow awakens a side of her she never knew existed. Their unexpected friendship puts Julia in the middle of a quest she doesn’t quite understand. As her familiar world begins to unravel around her, Julia must partner with the one person who knows how to push her buttons – and, in doing so, discovers the unbelievable truth about who she really is. Can Julia and Vander survive the trial set before them, or will they face the extreme consequences of failure?




Interview with Demeter
1.    What is your greatest fear? When my daughter was taken from me and married off to that loser Hades who sits on the throne in the Underworld, my life ceased to have any meaning. Cold, dead winter was born as babe of my affair with grief. My greatest fear is losing her again, who knows what my second bout with sadness would create.


2.    What is the trait you most deplore in others? Uselessness. When someone has only one task to tend to and they fail to achieve their goal, it makes me want to tear my own hair out. What good is anyone who can't find what they have been assigned to find. That's why those waste of skin hoodlums who used to call Persephone their friend, find themselves cursed to live on an island. They will never know the happiness or joy of having their own children because no man can stand to be near them. Useless!

3.    On what occasion do you lie? *shrugs* Whenever it serves me.

4.    Which living person do you most despise? Obviously, I abhor Hades. He stole my daughter and her innocence and now I have to share her with him for half of every year. It's a torture no mother should have to endure giving up my daughter to her husband over and over again as time rages on.

5.    What do you most value in your friends? My associates or what you would call friends are faithful to fulfill their obligations and commitments. My life is a series of scratching backs and having my back scratched in return. Nothing I do is done without return payment.

6.    What is it that you most dislike? Winter. Creating Spring and enjoying the bounty of blessings in the Summer brings me so much joy, especially with Persephone at my side.

7.    What is your greatest wish? *sigh* I don't waste my time on wishes and dreams. I either do what I want or cash in my favors and make things happen.

8.    What is your motto? The darkness of Winter only lasts for a season, how long that season lasts is up to me. *evil laugh*




As a substitute teacher, Jolene spends her days in high school classrooms harvesting material for her Young Adult novels. She also uses it as an outlet for fangirling by showing upcoming book-to-movie trailers at the end of class, or discussing vital issues like whether Katniss should have picked Gale or Peeta. She is committed to helping Special Education teenagers become independent adults and helping them find a way to focus on the positive especially when life gets hard. At home, Jolene loves to cuddle with her husband, two kids, and three cats—sometimes all at once—while reading Young Adult books or repeatedly watching movies based on them.

Author Links:

Buy Links: Amazon US http://amzn.to/2346KdK

I study his profile. His chiseled jaw and dark, floppy hair are like something out of a magazine advertisement. His eyes, too—they aren’t dark to match his hair, like mine—they are parts of green and blue, much like the painting of the sea in the other room. “Who painted that piece above the couch in there?” He shrugs, not answering me in any concrete way. Then he shifts his weight from one foot to the other and his awkwardness makes it clear to me. “You did it, didn’t you? You’re a painter.” He shrugs again. I hop down from my stool to go take another look at the painting. The artist must have signed it, and I will get my answer that way. I go down the hall, past the bathroom, the stairs, and the front door until I’m standing in the parlor, looking at Vander, who is blocking the painting from my view. He must have gone through the dining room next to the kitchen to end up in here before me. He’s staring at me and chewing on his lip while flexing and balling his hands. He’s more nervous than I have ever seen him—not before a swim meet, not in class when he didn’t know an answer, not when he told me how he felt in the bathroom a little bit ago. This is where his heart lies, in this painting of this island. I try to look around him, and he leans over. “Don’t.” He is stern, but gentle. He clears his throat. “Please don’t touch it. You will want to, but don’t.” He’s right. I do want to touch it; I want to climb inside of it. I’m seeing it, and somehow it’s seeing me, and it’s making me feel pulled apart. I want to dive into the waters, to swim to that far-off land, and I also want to turn the boat around and sail as far and as quickly as I can in the opposite direction. Meanwhile, the light from the sun is dimming, laughing at me for thinking I can have any control here. I want in! Vander grabs both of my arms, which are currently outstretched toward the painting. My knees are on the seat of the couch, and I don’t even remember moving forward. His voice startles me. “You can’t.” I blink hard and turn to look him fully in the face. “I can’t what?” “You can’t go there, and you can’t go away from there. It’s just a painting.” Was I talking out loud, or can he read my mind? How does he know what I was thinking? I let him lead me through the dining room, back into the kitchen, where the timer is going off. I shake my head to let loose the feelings that painting stirred in me. “It’s more than that, and you know it. How?” I don’t even have to finish the sentence. He knows exactly what I’m asking.



Monday, April 11, 2016

Book Blitz: The Queen's Viper


Title: The Queen’s Viper
Author: Lesley Donaldson
Genre: fantasy, urban fantasy, historical fantasy, contemporary fantasy
Publisher: Aquhorthies Publishing
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Blurb: 
Viper is a Blessed One, a Daoine Tor who feeds upon aeir, the life-magic of humans. In Tudor England, she meets Princess Elizabeth and discovers a mysterious amulet that stirs repressed memories. Viper elevates Elizabeth to the English throne to enhance the Kingdom's life-magic and find the amulet. The immortal seeks her kindred, only to encounter a malevolent enemy who imprisons her. Centuries later, Viper inexplicably emerges into 2012 London. She enlists the help of her Foundling, Mouse, and his eclectic cadre of human helpers, to overcome supernatural and man-made threats to her freedom as she seeks revenge upon her nemesis, Annys, and the descendants of the mortals who helped her...starting with Queen Elizabeth II. The Queen's Viper re-imagines Celtic folklore in a story that interweaves history and modern day in a gripping urban fantasy, featuring a complex anti-hero who scoffs at glittery fairy wings.

Bit of extra info: This story is told with two timelines - contemporary and Tudor/Elizabethan history in alternating chapters. SPOILER - There are also "Easter eggs" through the story which lead to book 2.

Warnings: mature themes, violence, sex, strong language




I write books and save lives. I throw axes for fun, and a vampiric unicorn who farts rainbows inhabits my soul.

Between 12 hour nursing shifts and 24 hour parenting shifts, I redefined myself as an authorpreneur with my first book, "Growing A Rainbow: The Premature Journey of a Two Pound Hero." I'm a mother of a former super-preemie with special needs, an often companionable wife, Canadian registered nurse, traveler and hobby medievalist. My debut fiction is "The Queen's Viper," an urban fantasy set in Elizabethan and modern London, with a grimdark spin on UK folklore. I'm also the co-author of "From Blog to Book," published by Publisher P.S.

Sales of "Growing a Rainbow" support The Canadian Premature Babies Foundation. 

Author Links:
Buy Links:
AMAZON LINKS
Print copies can be purchased from the publisher directly from the time being via thequeensviper.com

Sunday, March 20, 2016

Release Day Blitz: The Passion Season



The Passion Season

Covalent Series

Book One

Libby Doyle



Genre: urban fantasy/paranormal romance



Publisher: Fairhill Publishing LLC

Date of Publication: March 20, 2016

ISBN: 978-0-9972985-0-5
ASIN: B01CCE4U8E

Number of pages: 303 in ePub
Word Count: 117,259

Cover Artist: Damonza

Book Description:

In loving him, she overcomes her pain, but to discover his true identity would shred the reality she thought she knew.

He is Barakiel. Warrior. Exile. Hopeless romantic. Barakiel is Covalent, a race of ancient beings who use their great power to keep the elemental forces of Creation and Destruction in Balance. The Covalent Council exiled Barakiel to the Earthly Realm as the price of the treachery of his father, Lucifer, who wages perpetual war against it. Lucifer also relentlessly pursues his son. The Council thinks Lucifer views his son’s power as a threat, but Barakiel knows his father seeks to destroy even the memory of love.

She is Alexandra “Zan” O'Gara. FBI Agent. Army veteran. Recovering drunk. Zan’s troubled past left her with little interest in men, but she had never encountered anyone like the stunning Rainer Barakiel. Zan believes Rainer is a wealthy businessman with expertise in edged weapons who can help her with a case. From the moment she meets him she wants him more than she’s ever wanted anything, but her intense attraction is as frightening as it is thrilling.


This is their love story. As Zan’s deepening feelings for Rainer lead her to confront her emotional damage, he struggles to meet the demands of his home world so he will be free to love her, and to reveal his true nature. Through the gruesome crime that first brought Zan to his door, Barakiel learns that his presence in the Earthly Realm has placed some of its most vulnerable citizens in danger. Compelled to protect them, he undertakes a series of duties he may not survive, even as Zan rescues him from centuries of a deadened heart.

Book Trailer 

Amazon     iTunes     BN


Excerpt from part one, Vernal Equinox, Chapter 1

The front of the main building had a set of massive wooden double doors and a smaller heavy wooden door to the side with the bell. She rang, and when the door opened she forgot she was supposed to speak. He was gigantic, at least six foot eight, with broad shoulders and a lithe, athletic build. A few strands of his unruly, mid-length blond hair fell over eyes that seemed to be several shades of blue at once. They drew her in with more than their beauty, as if something primeval was hidden in their depths, just barely restrained. He faintly smiled. She knew her face was getting red.
What the hell. Don’t be such a fool.
“Um, hello, I’m Special Agent Alexandra O’Gara of the FBI.” She stuck out her hand. “My office made an appointment.”
“Yes. I’m Rainer Barakiel. A pleasure to meet you.” His voice was rich and deep and he spoke with a slight accent. When he shook her hand, she held it too long. She still felt flushed.
“I, um, I appreciate you taking the time for this, Mr. Barakiel.”
“I’m happy to help.”
God, so lame. He must have to deal with swooning women all the time, but I doubt he expected it from an FBI agent.
Turning gracefully, he showed her through the door. Zan tried not to stare at the way his jeans fit his hips, or the contours of his muscles beneath his gray cashmere sweater. Gripped by a strong urge to run her hands all over him, she was lucky his place was filled with fascinating things to distract her. Antiques and art were arranged tastefully in the open space, among brown leather couches and chairs and colorful woven rugs. Pale sun from high skylights glinted off a sunburst mosaic above the mantle of a huge concrete fireplace. Zan tried to concentrate on her surroundings, at least until her pulse slowed down.
“What a fantastic place.”
“Thank you.” He dipped his head toward her in an old-fashioned display of manners that she found charming.
“This whole property is great. What was it used for, before you lived here?”
“This land was part of the old Rohm and Haas Chemical plant you can still see as you enter. The facility was shut down in 2010.”
“I wish more people would reclaim these abandoned places by the river. Most of it just goes to waste, and meanwhile they’re developing Chester County farmland.”
“Yes.” He looked at her intensely. “I felt good about redeveloping a brownfield. I had to do a lot of remediation, but now it’s an excellent place to live.”
“All you need now is for the city to buy the front parcel and turn it into a park.” Zan gave him her best sunny smile, with an openness she knew made people trust her.
“That would be ideal,” he replied, “but I’m not holding my breath.” He returned her smile.
My god, you’re beautiful. How are you that beautiful? Why am I here? The knives.
“Um, in the interest of not taking up any more of your time than necessary, these are the knives in question.” Zan held up the case. “Daggers, I think. Did Professor Carson explain where we found them?”
“Superficially, yes.”
“Well, someone conducted some kind of ritual in Independence National Historical Park. We wouldn’t be that concerned with weird people doing weird things at night, but we found a human spleen. We tested the DNA and ran it through the database and discovered that the spleen came from a body found this past winter by the Philadelphia police. All its internal organs had been removed. The police called us because they thought it might involve organ trafficking, but we never found any evidence of it, so we weren’t much help. No one ever filed a missing persons report on this man, and Philly PD was never able to identify the corpse, let alone solve the crime.”
“Disturbing,” he said.
“Very. We thought if you could tell us something about the knives it might give us some insight into what this whole thing was about, maybe generate some sort of lead. They look old, and Professor Carson said you are an expert in antique bladed weapons.”
“Yes. I collect them. I’ve learned a lot over the years.”
“Let’s take a look,” Zan said. He led her to a massive carved table to the left near the kitchen area. She opened the case and laid the daggers out on a cloth. After he leaned down to scrutinize them, he said they were ceremonial daggers and asked if he could pick them up. Zan told him that because they were evidence, he would need to wear latex gloves. She handed him a pair. He tried to put one on for a minute, then frowned at her.
“I’m sorry. It’s too small.”
Zan stared at his hands. They were huge, but not meaty. They looked like they could crush a man’s skull, but also assemble a fine Swiss watch.
Or maybe gently touch me.
She felt the heat rise to her face again. He raised an eyebrow.
“You can use the glove like a handkerchief and just pick it up that way,” she said, fixing her gaze on the floor.
Picking up a dagger, he held it level with his eyes. When he had done the same to all four and they were back in the case, he motioned Zan closer and directed her to lean down. He showed her the intricate motifs and the manner in which the blades were joined to the hilts. He explained that from these features, he could determine that the blades were ceremonial, made in France in the late 19th century. She struggled to listen to what he was saying. That impossible face was so close, and she could smell him. He smelled like a pristine forest in the spring.
“What kind of ritual was it?” he asked. “These daggers would have been used for ceremonies, like the opening or closing of a formal meeting. They are valuable as antiques but they are not real weapons.”
“We haven’t really explored the evidence in terms of the ritual yet, because we’ve been concentrating on the spleen.” Zan shook her head. “That sounds odd, doesn’t it?”
“It’s an odd situation.”
“If I showed you some crime scene photos, do you think you would have any insight?”
He rubbed his chin. “I might be able to say whether the daggers were related to the ritual.”
“That could be helpful. May I bring them by?” Zan asked, failing to disguise her pleasure at the idea.
“I’m leaving town for a few days tomorrow. Can you come back this evening?”
“Yes, I think so.” She paused to consider for a moment. “I need to remind you that you can’t discuss anything about this with anyone. Did you read the agreement?”
“Yes. I understand that I’ve agreed to keep all this confidential.”
“Good. I should be able to come back around 7:00.”
“I’ll be here. In the meantime, if I may take some photos of these daggers, I can send a few emails. My contacts may be able to discover their provenance.”
“That would be extremely helpful. Just don’t reveal that they were involved in a crime.” He nodded and began to snap pictures of the knives with his phone.
“I have to say, Professor Carson was right,” Zan said. “I’m amazed you were able to identify a time period and a use for those in just a few minutes. I would love to have that kind of expertise. I know a lot about guns because it comes with the job, but I love edged weapons. They’re so elegant.”
“Yes.” He looked at her intensely again. “Would you like to see my collection?”
“It’s here?”
“Of course.”
“I’d love to.”
Just great, O’Gara. One handsome face and you toss your professionalism right out the window.
They moved to the left, behind the open kitchen, to an ultra-modern staircase of black and silver and honey-toned wood leading to a mezzanine lined with bookshelves. Zan enjoyed following him up the stairs.
Look at that ass. That ass is perfect.
They walked along the mezzanine to a huge sunny room at the back. Zan stood gaping when they entered. Save for several large windows, every square foot of the stucco walls was hung with bladed weapons: axes, pikes, halberds, and swords, mostly swords, in more styles and sizes than Zan knew existed. Wood and glass cases filled with daggers and other small blades sat at the far ends, with an island of leather couches and chairs at the center, rimmed around a thick Persian rug in velvety red.
“This is the coolest room I have ever seen,” she said. He chuckled and thanked her.
That was adorable. God. Get ahold of yourself.
“So, um, Mr. Barakiel, what kind of time span do these weapons represent?” she asked.
“Please, call me Rainer.” Zan flushed and looked up at him. He still had that adorable look on his face, like a little boy showing someone his secret clubhouse. Before she gave a thought to what she was doing, she had asked him to call her Zan.


About the Author:

Libby Doyle is the pen name of an attorney and former journalist who took a walk around the corporate world and didn’t like it. Considering she’s written an extravagant yarn filled with sex and violence, she thought a pen name would be prudent. She also thinks it’s kind of fun.

Libby grew up on the East Coast of the United States. She attended college in the 1980s and became immersed in the underground music scene. She met talented people and troubled people. She met people who taught her what it means to be your own person. In the 1990s, she went back to school to get a master's degree in journalism. Before beginning work in her chosen field, an attack of wanderlust set her traveling. For all that Libby loves books, she believes nothing compares to the education of travel.

After her wanderings, she returned to her career. For more than a decade, Libby worked as a journalist, until her interests led her to law school. She kept her full-time job while attending law school at night, the most brutal experience she’s ever had. She cursed her own stupidity countless times as her body and mind became sick with exhaustion, but she’s glad she did it.

Libby knows she’s a lucky woman. She’s had countless adventures, memories that feed her imagination. She stood atop a hill in Connemara in a cold wind, watching sunlight sparkle off the pristine sea below. She crested a trail after a grueling hike to find the glory of the Continental Divide spread before her. She was followed by a howler monkey in a Mexican jungle, shared the midday meal with Buddhist monks in Korea, and got pummeled by an opponent in a martial arts test in Japan. She trekked for days among the Himalayas, mountains so high and timeless they made her feel completely insignificant.

She’s married to a man who is funny and kind and patient enough to listen to her chatter on about her characters. They're not even real, but she feels like they're her friends. She’s confident they'll keep you entertained. Through her fanciful tale, she hopes they speak to you.






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The Passion Season©
Book I of the Covalent Series

Playlist
This music was chosen by Libby Doyle as a soundtrack for the novel. Some songs reflect the state of mind or aspirations of the characters. Some pieces are performed by the characters as part of the story, and others are meant to reflect the plot. Libby hopes you enjoy them.

Love Reign O’er Me – The Who
Cannonball – The Breeders
Burn – Nine Inch Nails
Sympathy for the Devil – The Rolling Stones
Rosary Sonata n. 6, The Agony in the Gethsemane Garden – Heinrich Biber -- played by Le Bizzarrie Armoniche (Riccardo Minasi, violinist)
Indiscipline – King Crimson (live, feat. Adrian Belew)
Brendan -- Fugazi
Top of the World – Shonen Knife
Don’t Let Your Deal Go Down – Lester Flat and Earl Scruggs
Caprice 24 – Paganini -- played by Hilary Hahn
Nasty – Janet Jackson
La Cumbia Campesina – Luis Ornelas
There Goes My Gun – The Pixies
Sex Machine – James Brown
Perfect Day – Lou Reed
The Weirdness – The Stooges
Salt Creek – The Tony Rice Unit
Chaconne, Partita No. 2 – Johann Sebastian Bach – played by Hilary Hahn
Dark Road – Sarah Jarosz
My Idea of Fun – The Stooges
War Pigs – Black Sabbath
Angel of Death – Slayer
To Be Over – Yes
Love is Blindness – Jack White
The World’s a Mess; It’s in My Kiss – X

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