Goodbye 2014, Hello 2015

2014 is about to draw to a close and as with the previous years, this one was filled with ups and downs. I know it sounds like I'm repeating myself; it's a bad habit of mine, one I should work on in 2015.

Despite the troubles, a lot of positive spots lit up 2014.

• I wrote volume 6 in the Westmore series.
• I met a bunch of new authors.
• I read a lot of good books and added to my TBR pile.
• I began hosting authors on my blog.

With the New Year fast approaching, I have a list of goals for 2015. Unlike the previous years where I gave up on them, I plan to follow through with my goals. Here's a few of the plans I have in store.

• Publish volume 6 of Westmore.
• Complete all my unfinished stories.
• Get active in promotion.

Here's to 2015, and to everyone, I wish you happiness and success in the New Year.

 

Free on Kindle - If Death Should Love Me

Author C. Desert Rose is happy to bring you "If Death Should Love Me; Fate's Endeavor Series Book 1" absolutely FREE for the first and last time this year.

For a limited time only you can get If Death Should Love Me for FREE on Kindle.

Here are some reasons why you should run, right now, and get your free copy of If Death Should Love Me by C. Desert Rose.

1. You may have gotten a Kindle for Christmas. Why not fill it up?
2. Reviewers have fallen in love with If Death Should Love Me.
3. IT IS FREE!!!

What more must be said?

Here is what readers are saying...

"Can a love story come from death to the living or from the living to death? You'll have to find out... As a paranormal romance series, I would recommend this one." A. Lopez Jr, Goodreads.


"If Death Should Love Me is a wonderfully written paranormal romance that offers a mixture of love, humor, and adventure." Carol Cassada, Goodreads.


"... I must say this book is WONDERFUL!!!!! I love it! I am currently reading it a 2nd time. You will not regret reading this book." Drandie Dodson, Goodreads.

If Death Should Love Me

Fate's Endeavor Series

Book One

Excerpt

Copyright C. Desert Rose & AAPH

Comoros, Africa

197 A.D.

I was eighteen. A man in both body and mind. No longer was I the boy that wished to prove himself a man. There was no doubting it—everyone knew the man I had become. My wife, family and friends were proud of the person I now was.

Everyone knew, as did I, that as the first born son I would be the inheritor of my father's reign. Unless of course, something should happen to me.

Now, in being a husband and a prince, I was of the right mind to have many sons. This was, after all, the way of my people.

I was hunting, readying my wife, soon to be born child and myself for the winter that was quickly approaching. From afar I heard my sister's voice calling me. “Amari! Amari! Come... come quick! It is time!”

The thought came that I must have lost track of time, I had not realized that I had been away so long. That morning Sulika mentioning that she felt some discomfort. When I asked her if she would be alright, she assured me that she was fine, that there was nothing to worry about as she still had another two weeks before her child baring day. So clenching my teeth, I went ahead and left to hunt, deciding against my better judgment.

And yet, here was my little sister, gravely calling for me to return.

There was no denying it, the time had come. I would be a father. Today.

Running fast through the jungle, making certain that I would not miss the big event, I practically flew through it. All of the women gathered together in Sulika's birthing hut call out to me, urging me to hurry. Sulika had been calling for me. It was not customary that a man enter the birthing hut, but this time the women made an exception as I was being insistently requested by my wife.

Sulika's mother came to me, “Amari. Please, hurry. She has been calling for you.”

Sulika?” I called softly, she heard me and looked over in my direction. Her skin so very pale—a thin blanket of snow upon rich chocolate skin, it was. Completely flushed of color. Her lips were dry and cracked.

She saw me and reached to me, “Amari,” she spoke, so softly, so void of strength, that I barely made out what she had said. “Come.”

Closing the distance between us, I sat at her side and took her hand in mine. Then grabbed a rag that was beside me and wiped her head. “I'm here now. Fear not.”

She smiled a very weak, fragile grin, “Yes. Thank you.” This birthing was indeed taking a toll on her.

“No worries love, soon it will all be over and you will be holding our baby in your arms in no time at all,” I smiled at her and continued chatting, hoping inwardly that it was making her feel better. “It will be a boy. Strong, like his father. His mother's eyes. We will walk around the entire village displaying his greatness. Everything will be over before you know it.”

A contraction. She squeezed my hand with whatever strength she still contained. She moaned and whimpered. My heart broke for her. With my other hand, I rubbed her back, “I am here, love. I am right here.” She breathed, trying to ease the pain. Still it was of no use because she had no strength. No fight was left in her. So once again I commenced my babbling, hoping that to a certain extent it would help her feel better—even if just the slightest bit. “When he grows, I will make sure that he becomes the tribe's best hunter. And, he will be the tribe's strongest man,”

She looked at me with hopeless eyes. “What if it is a girl?”

“Well if it is a girl, she will look and be everything like her mother. Nothing like her father. I would not want to ruin a perfectly good thing.”

Another contraction. She tensed. I could feel the pain that ran through her also run through me. I wished and prayed to all the tribal gods that they would help me ease her pain somehow.

My mother pulled me aside for just a moment. “Amari, she is not well. We are doing everything we can. But, her labor is not normal. The child is breached. She is losing too much blood.”

My hands began to shake, I was irrecoverably unnerved. “What is going to happen, Mama?”

“I do not know my son. We are doing all that we can. I hope the gods help her through this.”

For a long time, I did not leave her side, not letting her hand go for a second. I could feel the life drain from her with every breath. I worried deeply for her and my unborn child.

After several hours of agony and pain, it was time.

All the women scurried around her, cheering her on as best as they could. Some ran about trying to collect cloths, others gathered hot water, some had tools in their hands. And Sulika, was weakened— flimsy and lifeless. I panicked. They were screaming, yelling, fussing about.

All of it seemed like a blur. My eyes were fixed on my wife, observing that she was even paler now,  than just a little while ago. I bent over her. If it was a reflex of protection or desperation, I do not know. I needed to collect my emotions. Then I kissed my wife's forehead and whispered into her ears. “Everything is going to be alright.”

“No... it is not.” was her reply, and her words seeped out of her lips like soft, supple smoke from a dimming candle. Barely audible, barely there.

“Push, Sulika, push!” Someone demanded. She used whatever strength she had and pushed. This went on for just a few minutes. At one given moment she pushed with all her might. Then, I heard my wife take a long aching breath, and breathed no more.

My heart dropped to my stomach.

I looked at her, staring, hoping that what I had just seen was in my own imagination. I heard more commotion. The women were running amuck. They began to yell and scream to each other.

Everything turned into slow motion. Muffled voices, screams and cries. Yet my eyes were fixed on my wife.

For a split second I looked down at the child. A girl. She was right, but the babe was lifeless as well. She flopped like a wet rag in the arms of my mother-in-law.

Just like that, it was all over. My wife and my child were gone. I had lost everything that meant anything to me in a matter of a day. I was broken. Destroyed.

I named the child Alala, meaning like a dream—for that was all that she had been. A dream...

We buried them together, the tomb read; “My FIRST and ONLY wife, Sulika and our little angel Alala. You will never be forgotten.”

So... Don't delay!

Get your copy today!

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Writing Challenge Motivation

I have a confession to make; I can be lazy when it comes to writing. I have moments where I want to write, but when I sit down at the computer, the feeling goes away. There's been days, even weeks where I've gone without writing.

I started working on my latest WIP back in June, and by mid August I estimated I had only completed 2 chapters. Sure that seemed like good progress, but for me it wasn't much. I needed some motivation, a kick in the butt to get me writing.

Thanks to writingchallenge.org I found my motivation. They host monthly writing challenges where you try to complete 500 words a day or 1 hour of editing. You keep track of your progress on the site's participant log and on Twitter using their hashtags.

I'd been thinking of entering a writing challenge because it'd be a great form of motivation and plus it'd be fun. When I came across writingchallenge.org I decided to give it a shot and see if it helped. So in September I began my writing challenge, each day I wrote 500 words on my WIP, sometimes I'd exceed the limit.

The challenge proved to be a great motivation and by the end of October, I finished my book. Having a goal to complete each day made me want to sit down and write, for the first time in months I was excited about writing.

Since the writing challenge, I've been writing and editing more. I make it a priority to try to write every day and not go more than one week without writing. I'm hoping to release my latest WIP in March and if I stick with my plan like I did in the writing challenge, I should succeed in my goal.

Author Spotlight--Frederick Crook

Greetings everyone.

I'm pleased to have Frederick Crook as a guest today. Today he'll be sharing with us, his latest release Campanelli: Sentinel. So please give a warm welcome to Frederick.

Blurb:

It is  2110 and migration to the colony planet, Alethea, has depleted Earth of billions of people. As a result, migration has been declared illegal by all world governments. Human trafficking becomes highly profitable for organized crime and their influence reaches beyond the Earth's atmosphere. Many starships returning from Alethea are diverted from the scrapping process and secretly refurbished, allowing the population to shrink further.

Frank Campanelli is a blind Chicago Police detective who depends on his fully functional bio-electronic implants to see and do his job. After assisting on a botched infiltration of a top human trafficking network, he and his partner, Marcus Williams, are transferred into the CPD's Organized Crime Division to head the newly formed Sentinel group and bring down the Ignatola family business.

Excerpt:

       Frank took manual control of the car and set its alert status to 'Condition Two'. The car's computer sent out its signal to traffic lights and other computerized vehicles, clearing the way for them. The blue lights flashed and the siren whooped and warbled to warn pedestrians and non-computerized vehicles of their presence.
       Campanelli adjusted his lenses to zoom in just enough that he saw the leading edge of his vehicle's hood and beyond. This gave him advanced warning of upcoming pavement hazards. He kept his thought commands on visual adjustments, putting them back to default when the car was in traffic and zooming forward again once the road was clear ahead. Frank's full-service lenses had an advantage over the standard bio-electronic breed. His fully encompassed the surface of the eyes to give him the benefit of peripheral vision. When he magnified his view, it was not merely like looking through binoculars, it was kin to being physically thrust forward a few feet, albeit with some distortion at the edges of his field of view. With this advantage, Frank Campanelli had the reputation of being a rather insane driver, but from his point of view, he simply saw more detail than others and drove to match.
       As it was Saturday morning, the traffic was light. As a result, Frank could get the car up to eighty miles an hour at times, broken up by sudden slowing and lane changing to avoid a vehicle or road hazard. This unsettled Marcus Williams to no end, forcing the veteran to increase his serotonin levels as he held on to the door handle and center console while plastering his feet into the floorboards.
       The engine whined and whistled with acceleration, alternating with the crying of rubber whenever the brakes were hit hard or the steering yoke was twitched to go around something.
       Marcus was just glad they were not in pursuit, otherwise Frank would be in a real hurry.
       Campanelli slowed at the corner of State and Madison and hung a tight left. The powerful car accelerated like a shot, but the siren went quiet. Marcus dared to open his eyes and saw that the road ahead was deserted of pedestrians, cars, and potholes.
       The siren sounded again as they approached the intersection at Dearborn. Dodging around a CTA bus, Frank made the turn and accelerated again, though only briefly as they were close to their destination.
       Suddenly, the siren quieted and the motor would down to its near-silent normalcy. Marcus opened his eyes in time to see the blue lights cycle one last time before going out. The light at West Washington Street still turned green for them, indicating that Frank had set the car to 'Condition Four': 'No lights, no sirens, just an officer in kind of a hurry', as it had been explained to him once by someone he could not remember.

 
 Author's Bio

Frederick was born in Chicago in 1970 and now lives in Villa Park with his wife, Rae and their three miniature dachshunds. He began writing fictional works all through high school, earned an Associate Degree of Applied Science in Electronics in 1994 and the Bachelor of Science in Technical Management from DeVry University in 2005.
       In 2009, Frederick began writing his first novel, The Dregs of Exodus, which was self-published in late 2010. This was followed up with another novel, The Pirates of Exodus in 2012.
       Throughout that year and early 2013, he continued writing and published four short stories in eBook form for Kindle and Nook. All of these stories share the same premise, but all are independent from one another, though the short eBook, Campanelli: The Ping Tom Affair and his third novel, issued by Solstice Publishing, Campanelli: Sentinel, share the same main characters.
       He loves writing and enjoys meeting and talking to readers at book signing events.

Amazon link:

http://www.amazon.com/Campanelli-Sentinel-Frederick-H-Crook-ebook/dp/B00PMET6JA/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1416403905&sr=8-1&keywords=Campanelli%3A+Sentinel

Author's Website

http://frederickcrook.wix.com/crooksbooks