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A pick 'n' mix genre author. "I'm not greedy. I just like variety."

Wednesday, 29 July 2015

RBTL Tours: a Spirit without Borders by Andrew Grey

Title: a Spirit without Borders 
Author: Andrew Grey 

Series: Stand Alone 
Genre: M/M Contemporary 
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Release Date: July 19 2015
Edition/Formats Available In: eBook & Print


Dillon McDowell, an infectious disease specialist, jumps at the opportunity to work with Doctors Without Borders in Liberia. But when he arrives, things are very different than he expected, and he’s out of his depth. Will Scarlet takes him under his wing and helps him adjust. A hint of normalcy comes when a group of local boys invite Dillon to play soccer.

Will’s family rejected him for being gay, and he’s closed off his heart. Even though meeting Dillon opens him to the possibility of love, he’s wary. They come from different worlds, and Will plans to volunteer for another stint overseas. But Will realizes what Dillon means to him when Dillon becomes ill, and they can no longer deny their feelings.

When Dillon’s soccer friends lose their parents and aunt to disease, Will and Dillon must work together to ensure that the boys aren’t cast adrift in a society that’s afraid they might be contagious.  They must also decide if their feelings are real or just the result of proximity and hardship. 

Book Links:
Barnes and Noble
Dreamspinner Press

~ * ~


 Dillon was not prepared. As much as he read and tried to be ready for his trip, he was not at all prepared for the chaos and the smell as thousands of people milled and herded their way through the stiflingly hot airport in Monrovia, the Liberian capital. He wanted nothing more than to get out of this building, but the lines moved at a snail’s pace, and Dillon gasped for breath and any sort of refreshing breeze. Even the ceiling fans didn’t seem to do a dang thing. By the time he got to the front of the line and had his documents stamped, he was soaked with sweat.
Finally Dillon retrieved his luggage and headed toward the exit with throngs of others. He had papers in hand with his instructions and looked around the airport’s arrivals area. Finally a man rushed up to him. “Dillon McDowell?” he said rather haltingly.
“Yes,” Dillon said and moved closer.
“I am Uriel. I am your ride.” He offered a huge smile. “Come with me.” Uriel turned, and Dillon followed, weaving through hordes of people carrying bags and baskets, dressed in every color known to man. The noise was nearly deafening. Somehow he managed to keep up as they went outside. The air was even hotter, but, thank God, there was a breeze. He inhaled and did his best not to cough. He had truly not been prepared for any of this, and he reminded himself that he was on an adventure.
“I take you to hotel for tonight. Tomorrow we go to hospital. Okay?”
“That would be great.” Dillon was tired and desperately needed to clean up. He followed Uriel to an old car and stowed his luggage in the trunk, which was held together with gray tape. He got in next to Uriel and waited for him to start the engine. As soon as Uriel did, cool air blew from the vents. There was a God after all. Dillon held up his arms and let the air flow over him. He sighed and closed his eyes.
“We go now,” Uriel said and started the car moving forward into chaotic traffic. There were signs, but no one seemed to obey them. Dillon held on and hoped like hell they’d make it to the hotel in one piece. It took about an hour, but eventually they pulled up in front of a building that looked surprisingly modern. It wasn’t palatial, by any means, but it seemed nice enough. Dillon got out and pulled his luggage from the trunk as Uriel walked around to where he stood. “I get you tomorrow morning at nine. No be late.”
“Where are you staying?” Dillon asked, and Uriel pointed across the road to what looked like a building about ready to fall down. It took him a second to realize Uriel wasn’t pointing to the building but indicating a general direction.
“I go home, see my family.”
“Okay. Thank you for the ride, and I’ll see you in the morning.” Dillon picked up his bags and walked into the hotel. It was cooler than outside, but still warm. He supposed the heat was something he would have to get used to. He approached the staff members at the front desk and told them his name. Thankfully, they were indeed expecting him, and after he checked in, Dillon was given an old-fashioned key and pointed toward the stairs. The lift was out of order, the desk clerk explained.
Not that it mattered. Dillon carried his bags up the stairs to the third floor. He found his room and let himself in. The room was stifling, but there was air-conditioning of a sort. He turned it on and prayed that it worked. It did, so Dillon put his bags aside and flopped down on the bed. He was bone weary, and once the room cooled, he fell asleep without getting undressed.

~ * ~

Author Information:

Andrew grew up in western Michigan with a father who loved to tell stories and a mother who loved to read them. Since then he has lived throughout the country and traveled throughout the world. He has a master’s degree from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and works in information systems for a large corporation.

Andrew’s hobbies include collecting antiques, gardening, and leaving his dirty dishes anywhere but in the sink (particularly when writing)  He considers himself blessed with an accepting family, fantastic friends, and the world’s most supportive and loving partner. Andrew currently lives in beautiful, historic Carlisle, Pennsylvania.

Monday, 27 July 2015

RBTL Tours: Evanescent by Carlyle Labuschagne

Title: Evanescent
Author: Carlyle Labuschagne

Series: The Broken Series (#2)
Genre: SciFi/YA/Dystopian
Publisher: Fire Quill Publishing
Release Date: May 19 2015 (Second Edition)
Edition/Formats Available In: eBook & Print


Her fall has just begun. Only his touch can save her from the shift that could destroy it all. Within my blood runs a thing our kind calls the Shadowing Disease. It shadows over, and bends everything to its will. When the first blood-shift came, it tore through flesh and blood, threatening to bend me, break bone, shatter my mind and entrap my heart with its honeyed, seductive poison. It came with vicious intent, moving my thoughts and altering me forever. The shift has caused a rift within me. No one was safe when it entrapped me in its claws of foul lust. But I have the only antidote against the evil that becomes me- his touch alone has the power to release the spurs of sweet darkness that clung on for dear life.
I knew what I had to do; the desperation pulled my mind with the deep determination of a hungry predator. By the time the revelation raised me from the dark dungeon of my bounds - it might have been too late.


My makers would say I was created for revenge. I say, I was born to prove them wrong. I defied the Council and its Keepers.  Fought back against the dark magic of our enemies, but I am afraid it had come at a cost. Inflicted with the dark disease, I was lost in every possible way; and they were wrong – death does not bring you your true purpose. After death, I am more misplaced than ever, but only because I am immune to guidance. I relive my darkest moments over and over again, just to remind myself of who I am.
I am the destined one. The haltered. For me, there is no love and no release, only destruction; but I am on a path to be free of its burden. I do love and I will have it, absorb it and never, ever, let all its enchanting affections go. In order to be with love, there is only one path to lead me there; through this war. But nothing and no one knows what awaits on the other side, or what lies have been afflicted upon us about the after. Remorse is an infection I no longer want. I had made apocalyptic mistakes, and will probably keep on faltering forward. It has become my only direction in a reality where there is none. To him, there is no him, if there is no me. He is bound to me, and I hated it more than I will ever confess. His cross to bear is me, and to be that – to be this – is a curse I must fight.
When the first true blood-shift came, it tore through flesh and parted blood, threatening to bend me, break bone, shatter my mind and entrap my heart to become its will. It comes with vicious intent, moving my thoughts and touching me with a cutting effect from the inside. It has many ways of bleeding out, and when it releases, there is nothing I can do to stop it. No one is safe when it entraps me in its claws of foul lust. Corrupt, damnable, depraved, destructive, hideous, demonic; your kind would call it many things. I have a weapon against the profane that becomes me – his touch alone has the power to release the talons of a sweet darkness that clings on for dear life. It has one trigger – my guilt. I can change it if only I can take the leap, surrender myself utterly. I am ready with all of me, for all of him.
I know what I have to do, the desperation of it pulls my mind with the unfathomable determination of a ravenous predator. I let it sink in hard and true. I feel the swell of the fight fill me with a bitter sweetness, and with a glorious soothing pain that tears my mind from the disease which transforms me. My loss has become my fight as I watch it all wither away. But, I will never stop fighting. I am my own destiny; my destiny is to be with him. And the Truth-seekers of this prophecy will not take it lightly.
Everything else becomes Evanescent.
~ Ava.

TV Interview: 

Author Information:

Carlyle is a South African award winning author, with a flair for mixing genres and adding loads of drama to every story she creates. For now she is happy to take over the world and convert non Sci-fi believers.

Her goal as an author is to touch people's lives, and help others love their differences and one another by delivering strong messages of faith, love and hope within every outrageous world she writes about.

"I love to swim, fight for the trees, and am a food lover who is driven by my passion for life. I dream that one day my stories will change the lives of countless teenagers and have them obsess over the world literacy can offer them instead of worrying about fitting in. Never sacrifice who you are, it’s in the dark times that the light comes to life."

Carlyle used writing as a healing tool and that is why she started her very own writers support event - SAIR bookfestival.

 "To be a helping hand for those who strive to become full times writers, editors, bloggers, readers and cover artists - it’s a crazy world out there you don’t have to go it alone!"

Author Links:
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