Thursday, 8 December 2016

#PNR and #UF Giveaway Party!

Welcome to the #PNR and #UF Giveaway Party!

Who’s ready for a giveaway you can get your hands on? A bunch of authors got together to bring your this Big Box of Paperbacks Giveaway! One lucky winner is going to win SIXTY-TWO (62) Paperback Books!
How’s that for an epic Book-Lover’s Prize?! If you are a fan of Urban Fantasy, Dystopian Fiction, or Paranormal/SciFi Romance, you’re going to want to get in on this! The best part is that even if you don’t win, you’ll be subscribed to the sponsoring authors newsletters for a chance to grab some freebies, snag some special offers, and enter more giveaways!




Here are a couple of sneak peeks!


Dark Siren: An Ashwood Urban Fantasy Novel 
(Half-Lich Book 1)
by Katerina Martinez


Excerpt:

Alice set her backpack on the ground and cracked her knuckles. Unzipping the backpack, she removed a smaller bag from within and pulled a peculiar looking old Polaroid Instant Camera out. The hairs on her arms stood on end as she carefully handled the machine, an instrument so old it had been taking pictures since before she was born.
The camera was black all over and had a matte finish. A red stripe ran across the top with the word ‘Trapper’ written in black paint. Feeling cool to the touch, it seemed to almost hum in her hand, as if singing with delight—if such a thing was even possible. Alice flicked the camera on, waited for a second, and brought it up to eye level.
“You’re going to take our picture, now?” Mack asked.
Alice spun around and saw him through the eye of the camera. Aside from the trigger button, the camera had a slider toggle on the side. One setting read “REF,” the other read “MAT”. It was always set to REF because setting it to MAT and accidentally triggering it with a human in view wasn’t something she wanted to risk doing. Alice double checked—REF. Concentrating her will into the camera, Mack and Sherry’s forms suddenly seemed to shimmer as if seen through water, like swimming shadows in the gloomy darkness of the corridor. Then they disappeared.
When she was looking through the eye of her camera, it was as if she had become a part of the camera itself. Her field of vision wasn’t constricted to a tiny square of light, but rather expanded so that she could see more of the world than she could with the naked eye.
“No,” Alice said, “I’m going to take its picture.”
“Is… that how you… do it?”
Alice lowered the camera and let the smile come naturally to her face. “Do what?”
“How you, you know, deal with these things.”
“I don’t think a pair of good, church-going Catholics such as yourselves really want to know the answer to that question. Best leave the Necromancy to the heathens, as it says in the Bible.”
“You know the Bible?”
“You sound surprised.”
Something smashed on the other side of the door. Sherry jumped and made a sound half way between a laugh and a cry before hiding behind her husband. Mack’s eyebrows met in the middle and he clenched his jaw. The sound hadn’t startled Alice, but it had set her body alight with anticipation and excitement. The drums of war had started beating.




Hidden Blade
(The Soul Eater Book 1)
by Pippa DaCosta


Excerpt:

“I’ve reconsidered,” I called out, following the trail of blood. My boots crunched in the snow, so there was no use in trying to move quietly. “You and me, I can make that work.”
The grinding laughter returned, but the wind gathered it up and tossed it around the rooftop. “You are weak…”
“Says the demon with a hole in its gut,” I muttered. “You’re going to die here, you must know that.”
The demon could shift its shape and escape. Given enough time, it could hole up somewhere and lick its wounds. I couldn’t let that happen. A demon loose in a city like New York would be a public relations nightmare. Naturally, it would be my fault. Most screwups were, if you asked the gods.
“You are not free to make a deal, Nameless One.”
“How’s that?” I inched up against the elevator enclosure and eyed the trail of blood leading out of sight around the corner.
“Your soul is owned by another.” The words tumbled through the air, but their source was close. “I tasted him on you.”
I winced. That truth cut too close to the bone for comfort. If word got out I was Ozzy’s bitch, nobody would hire me. Shit, nobody would come within ten feet of me. If the demon didn’t have to die before, it did now.
Enough talk. Talking with demons—and listening to them—was a surefire way of getting your mind devoured. This one had spent long enough probing my thoughts to pick up on my fears. They were good at that—planting seeds that would later grow into toxic doubts until you fancied yourself a long walk off a short balcony. I hadn’t dealt with a demon of this caliber in a while; clearly, I was rusty.
“Slippery things, souls.” I lifted Alysdair and wrapped both hands around her handle, letting the sword pull on my magical reserves. “They’re surprisingly easy to lose and damned difficult to get back.”
I lunged around the corner and got a face full of contorted demon chest. Alysdair plunged through cleanly, slicing deeper than the metal alone would have allowed for, and sank into that fetid thing inside—its soul. A flicker snagged at my resolve—a twitch from my past, of how good it would be to drink its soul down. It had been a long time, but this was Alysdair’s moment to shine, not mine. A soul that black, I didn’t need the weight.
The demon let out its ear-piercing screech. Its claws raked at my sword arm to cut off the source of its agony, but its red-eyed glow was fading as Alysdair fed. The sword sang in my grip until the deed was done, and the demon collapsed into a pile of loose skin and putrid flesh.
The after buzz tapped at the part of my mind that went to deeper, darker things every time Alysdair got her kick and I didn’t—the what-ifs and just-a-little-bits. With a growl, I staggered back, grateful the snow was swirling faster now and covering up the grisly evidence.
“Poison” blared again from my pocket.
“For Sekhmet’s sake!” I wiped Alysdair clean on my duster coat and drove her home inside her sheathe, snug between my shoulder blades. Then I snatched the cell from my pocket. “Shu, by the gods, this had better be good or I will come back there and shove your little statue of Ra up your—”
“Ace.”
Gods be damned, I’d worked with Shukra long enough to recognize that arctic tone in her voice. “That’s my name, peaches. Don’t wear it out.”
Sirens wailed nearby—too nearby. I strode to the edge of the roof and didn’t need to look far to see the blue and white lights bathing the walls of the opposite building. It was too late to clean up the mess.
“There’s a goddess in your office. I suggest you don’t make her wait.”





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