Tuesday, October 17, 2017

Passing Strange: The Well by P.W. Creighton






Passing Strange: The Well
Passing Strange
Book One
P.W. Creighton

Genre: YA, Mystery-Horror-Suspense

Date of Publication: Sept 2, 2017

ISBN: 978-1522029151
ASIN: B075BJJ1S7

Number of pages: 220 Digital/ 303 Print

Word Count: 54730

Cover Artist: For The Muse Designs

Tagline: Parrish Cove Secrets Run Deep...

Book Description:

For Fourteen-year-old Aidan Reynolds, the archaeological dig at the Parrish Cove historical society is the only thing making the summer interesting.

That is until he meets Maddie, an unusual girl who has just moved to town and is convinced that there is more to the local legends surrounding the historical society than even he knows.  

While Aidan may not believe her, the strange artifacts that are recovered from the dig force them into exploring the dark, twisted history of Parrish Cove and its strange doctor...a man who vanished over a century ago.

Together, they uncover a town secret that has been forgotten for centuries, and discover that there are some things that should stay buried.


Excerpt:

…The officer started us back into the plaza at a rapid walk. His clomping steps on the brick walkway, and the heavy jingling of his belt gave an air of strength. Although Maddie was glued to my side, I could feel her gaining confidence with each step. We were probably running from a dog again.
“Here,” I said, and started us back down the alley past the Custom House.
“Did you see the animal?” The officer asked.
“Yeah,” Maddie responded.
“No,” I corrected with glance at her. “It was fast.”
The officer clicked on his huge flashlight, casting a blinding light down the alley ahead of us. He quickly turned the light down the side alleys as we passed them to check for motion. It only lasted a moment before he swept the back ahead of us over the dumpsters and piles of cardboard lining the alley. The beam was so bright that it was possible to illuminate the brick walls on both sides.
Everything changed the moment we emerged into the park.


About the Author:

Born in California, he has spent most of his life traveling throughout the US. Drawing inspiration from his many adventures, turning that strange reality into fiction.

Over the years, he has found himself in many unusual situations, ranging from hanging off an 80 foot cliff-face in New York, to sailing off the coast of Salem, Massachusetts. He has hosted archaeological excavations, and have even reported from the middle of a police stand-off.

When a teacher asked him in the second grade what he wanted to be when he grew up, he didn't have an answer. To be honest, he still doesn't know. He just lets his characters make that decision.






a Rafflecopter giveaway



Monday, October 16, 2017

Interview Goddess of the Wild Thing by Paul DeBlassie III


1) What inspired you to write books? 

Books are and always have been my thing. My lovely lady, Kate, kindred soul, wife and mother of our four adult children inspired me to move into dramatic fiction. She said, “You can write visionary thrillers loaded with archetypal gusto just like you write psychology except these’ll be even more compelling, captivating, riveting! Kate’s my inspiration.
2) What do you love about writing in general? 
Words are a psychic narcotic, a real high. When I read good indie writers like Tamara Ferguson, Uvi Poznansky, Luna Saint Claire, Rayna Noire, David P. Permutter, and Lorraine Carey my mind is tuned in and turned on. When I write there’s a sense of being transported to another realm filled with mystery, insight, and age-old wisdom. I love it.

3) What advice can you give aspiring Authors in your genre? 

If you feel it do it. Doubts come, fears abound, but inspiration was there from the beginning, so see it through to the end. You felt what you felt, the need to write, so stay true to that feeling and true to your dream.

4) What’s your favorite part of being an author? 

Along with setting dramatic narrative and white-hot words to the page, a story building, fulminating and completing itself I love meeting wonderful readers who write and tell me of their impressions and emotions while immersed in the tales I’ve woven.

5) What is the worst part about being an author? 

There is no worst part. Writing is about being true to what’s in you to do, and there’s no worst part to that. There’s dark times and light times for sure; but the dark and light are the composites of shading and color and texture that take visual form in the art that is storytelling.

6) What do you do for fun? 

I love it when Kate and I hang together, just the two of us, and see movies, go to lunch and dinner, talk long talks, and come home and nestle into each other. That’s a fine, really fine time.

7) How do you find time to write?

I write a little each day. Freud wrote a page a day. That’s a good rule of thumb for me. There’s always time for a page, and one page often leads to another and another and another . . ..

8) What is in your WIP or next book you thought about writing? 

After writing The Unholy and Goddess of the Wild Thing I’ve thought about resting; but the resting is in the living and writing that are an everyday experience. The new book The Goddess of Everything is a hottie  – there’s a woman who thinks she all that and more to boot - can control, cajole, and bag whomever and whatever her nefarious heart desires. It’s a visionary thriller of mother love gone bad and a son’s desire to break free. There’s twist and turns and an unexpected heroine – The Goddess of Everything!

9) Where do you write? 

Right now I’m downstairs on the oak kitchen table. I used to write only in my study. I like varying it up. It keeps the flow going. The study is good, old gothic masters up there whispering in my ear. On the kitchen table is good too. They follow me down the stairs and whisper their words, dark machinations, and eye-popping revelations. I set these to page and they smile.


10) Are you a fulltime author? 

I am a full-time depth psychologist, therapist and writer. It all comes together in the consultation room in treating traumatized patients and on the page where trauma and despair meet the potential for hope and transformation in a rip-roaring visionary thriller.

Goddess of the Wild Thing
Paul DeBlassie III

Genre: Horror , Sci Fi and Fantasy

Book Description:

Goddess of the Wild Thing is a dramatic tale of one woman’s spiritual journey where magical happenings, unexpected turns of fate, and unseen forces influence her ability to love and be loved.

Eve Sanchez, a middle-aged woman and scholar of esoteric studies, encounters a seductive but frightening man who introduces her to a supernatural world in which the wicked powers of a surrogate mother’s twisted affection threaten love and life.

In the mystic realms of Aztlan del Sur, Eve and three friends struggle with whether bad love is better than no love and discover that love is a wild thing.

Excerpt I

Eve sharpened her focus. She saw the sharp nail of a witch’s right finger tracing Graciéla’s image on a foggy mirror in a grungy bathroom, touching the center of the mirror with a hatred so intense, the glass burned red hot. The mirror in Graciéla’s kitchen cracked. Shards jettisoned at the old healer then were magically warded off and drifted in place about her head and neck.
Graciéla’s energy, tired as she was, had fended off the pointed shards. She hadn’t been impaled. But the strain had ushered her from one world to the next. Death came not by the hand of another but by a weakened mind and body defending itself.
Eve, shaken, allowed her soft touch to stay on Graciéla’s forehead, confirming the horror of what she’d seen. Shamanic wisdom, often discussed between the two kindred souls, spoke to Eve as she stroked her friend’s head, remembering that death provided passage for one whose life had been well spent and whose time had come.
Eve wept.

After a few moments, she closed her friend’s green eyes and whispered tenderly, “Always my friend, always love, always together in life and in death.” She stood and wiped the tears from her eyes. A gray-brown, green-eyed, great horned owl hooted from the largest cottonwood branch outside the back window.
Eve heard Shirley finishing her call to the EMTs and police, and then walking to the front of the store to await their arrival.
One large shard lay at the end of the table, sharp tip pointed outward. It reflected Eve’s image, a glowing red ember menacingly centered at the brow point

About the Author:

Paul DeBlassie III, Ph.D. is a depth psychologist and award-winning writer living in his native New Mexico. He specializes in treating individuals in emotional and spiritual crisis. His novels, visionary thrillers, delve deep into archetypal realities as they play out dramatically in the lives of everyday people. Memberships include the Author’s Guild, the Depth Psychology Alliance, the International Association for Relational Psychoanalysis and Psychotherapy, and the International Association for Jungian Studies.





The Night of Elisa by Isis Sousa





The Night of Elisa
Illustrated Gothic Novel
Book One
Isis Sousa

Genre: Gothic, Paranormal, Horror

Publisher: Tragic Books

Date of Publication: February 2016

ISBN: 9781519169945
ISBN: 9781367510418
ASIN: B00LMM3CMI

Number of pages: 220
Word Count: 60k words + illustrations

Cover Artist: Isis Sousa

~ The Corpse Bride meets Penny Dreadful ~

Book Description:

"Sometimes, life and love can follow the most obscure paths, just as they did for Elisa."

Her life becomes a dark, cold, lonely cage the day the devil takes her as his wife. He robs her of almost everything she holds dear: her health, her wealth and what is left of her family.

Trapped between the nuances of life and beyond-life, Elisa finds herself struggling for a better tomorrow. With her health deteriorating, how will she summon the courage and strength to stand her ground? And how far will she go in the pursuit of a dream?

Embark with Elisa on this puzzling Gothic adventure set in the late Victorian era, between the world of the Living and the picturesque, melancholic Duskland.

~~~~~

The Night of Elisa is first and furthermost Victorian Gothic, but can also fit within other genres such as Dark Fantasy, Paranormal, Mystery and Occult.

Parental guidance: for 16+ Contains blood, nudity and dark themes.


Amazon           BN       Book Depository

Indiebound      Alibris      Kobo

Excerpt from Chapter 1

‘Elisa’ woke up slowly on the crimson pillows of the adorned wooden couch. Her vision was blurry and her head was spinning. How is this possible? Her heavy eyes resisted her will to see the world, yet little by little the figure of a gentleman formed, sitting on a chair by her side. He was a tall, slender, slightly athletic type of man, well-dressed and, she could tell, of noble manners. He had pale skin, a sculpted nose and a wide forehead embraced by fiery curls.
“W... where am I? What happened?”
“You are safe in my house.” His voice was calm, poised and sounded somehow familiar. There was a long pause. “I don’t know what happened to you, but hopefully we are going to find out...”
He looked at her intently. She was weak, slightly frightened and her countenance was as delicate as a white rose. Her hair had a mahogany nuance and was curled and tied back. She was dressed in a fine, dark violet dress and boots. Her grey eyes, as beautiful as the sea on a stormy day, were wide open and her voice was pleasant to the ear, like a mermaid’s song.
“I found you hurt in the woods last evening and brought you here. You’ve been mostly asleep since then. I’m glad you woke up.” A slight smile formed on his face as he devoured her neck with his eyes.
‘Elisa’ was reading the large room, looking at the faded colors of the wooden ceiling and walls. The fancy furniture, ornaments and expensive portraits were all covered with a thin layer of dust, but were otherwise in perfect order. The house was as old as everything inside. It had the smell of the past.
In a long moment of complete silence they could hear each other’s breath. Slowly and carefully she sat up in the middle of the couch, without deviating from the stranger’s grim, blue eyes. She looked up at the second floor and spotted a taller figure standing in the darkness. She thought he looked as obscure as a ghost. Who is that strange man watching us? She looked back at Leonhard, who was also staring at the figure.
“What is your name, sir?”
“I’m Leonhard, madame. What is your name?” He turned his gaze back to the fragile and confused lady. When his eyes met hers he almost stopped breathing, as if he had seen the eyes of an angel.
“I can’t remember... I can’t remember anything!” ‘Elisa’ rubbed her eyes, frustrated. “Who is that man upstairs?”
The figure drew closer to the polished handrail. He was a thin man in his mid-fifties, with bits of grey hair and a pale countenance, dressed in a suit jacket. He looked down at her for a second, examining her, and then he walked away hurriedly like the devil escaping from the cross.
“That is Dr. Charles,” Leonhard said, interrupting the moment of silence. “He medicated you when I brought you home. He is... not much used to foreigners. We share this house since neither of us has a family. He will get used to you, I hope.”
‘Elisa’ gave Leonhard a weak smile. She was obviously uncomfortable and becoming more and more impatient. Where am I? What happened to me? Who are these people? I need to find a way to get out of here! She crossed her arms, twisted her lips and looked around the finely arranged living room, thinking a thousand things at once.
Leonhard could hear, feel that her heartbeat was accelerating. He was growing impatient, wondering what sorts of things were passing through her head. Many questions appeared in the corners of his mind too.
Just as he was about to speak, the young lady extended her silky hand to him. She was hesitant but gathered enough courage to look deep into his eyes. 
“Can you take me somewhere open... sir? I just need... some fresh air.”
Leonhard was hesitant. He was sure she needed more rest; after all she had been through since he found her it was hard to believe she felt well now. Dr. Charles, you are amazing! What kind of miraculous drug did you give to her? Leonhard wanted to protect and take care of her, hold her... He felt the urge to reach for her neck. Old habits die hard! Hold yourself, Leonhard! Concerned as he was, he thought some fresh air would indeed do her good, and it was better for him to go and watch out for her.
“Do you want something to eat first?”
“No! Sorry, sir! I have no appetite. Please...” There was a note of desperation in her voice.
“You need to drink some water. It’s important for your health. I will bring a glass for you and then I can show you my garden.”
“Thank you so much for your kindness!” Why do I have the impression that deep inside every kind man there is a fearsome demon? I need to keep calm or I will ruin everything.
Leonhard sensed she was afraid. Perhaps she might run, escape. But escape from what? Does she see me as a threat? He came back from the kitchen with a glass of fresh water.
Once she had finished drinking he put the glass on a nearby sideboard. He took her delicate hand gently under his left arm and they walked slowly, through the main doorway and out into the well-maintained garden. ‘Elisa’ was secretly grateful that the gentleman was helping her walk so she wouldn’t crumble.

The plants had been grown in geometric patterns. The bigger bushes were rounded and the smaller ones were cut flat on the top and sides, forming natural fences alongside the pathways. There were many different flowers, but all were shades of purple, white and crimson. A big fountain stood in the center of the garden and a couple of smaller ones aligned with it towards the garden’s edges. Each of the fountains was topped with a sculpture of a nude dancing angel. There was the smell of grass, flowers and afternoon, and the sunset was glooming on the horizon, as it mostly does in Duskland.




About the Author:

I am an artist, illustrator and graphic designer who writes on my free time. But with all the imagination I have running lose, there came some stories… And there came some books!

I am born and grown up in Brazil, however I live in Mid-Norway with my beloved husband, in a tiny valley surrounded by mountains and with very few neighbours.

When I’m not doing artwork and illustration for clients, I’m doing woodcarving, painting ornaments, painting artworks for myself, and so on. Love Arts, History, Heavy Metal and Dark things.








a Rafflecopter giveaway

Thursday, October 12, 2017

Witch’s Eternal by Bri Clark - Haunted Halloween Spooktacular






Witch’s Eternal
Bri Clark

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Belle Consulting

Date of Publication: October 31,2017

ASIN: B075751BW5

Word Count:  61,000 words

Cover Artist: Cindy Clark

Tagline: She’s the one being to heal his heart, fulfill the prophesy and save us all. But will she.

Book Description:

Aisleen is the last of a rare race of witches. Her essence hangs in the balance as the magical and temporal poisoning of the Blue Death ravages her body.

Lucien Lemoine, the feared and revered leader of the eternals, searches for a cure. Something primal and instinctive drives him to save the little witch even when his people’s future hangs is threatened. 

But when the Goddess finally breaks her decades long silence Lucien learns Aisleen is more than the one who will fulfill the prophesy of his fate and heal his heart. She can save them all.

But after his tragic betrayal, will she?

Ghosts, Portals and Antidepressants: The Time I Didn’t Sleep for 30 Days.

Have you ever done or said something that you knew you would regret? Yeah we all have. But I did it on a level of stupidity that garners national level gold member status.

There is a lesson I have put together personally, antidepressants suppress my abilities as a medium. They may do the same for you or your intuitive abilities. It’s not surprising is it. It’s our brains, right? And at one point those little pills saved my sanity.

When I moved back to Tennessee in 2015 I suffered a major crisis of identity. I left a religion I’d been a part of for almost fifteen years. I left a town that was so big I could network with likeminded entrepreneurs for 20-40 hours a week if I wanted all within a couple miles of my house. My oldest children moved out. And I started having dangerous health problems.

At that time I did a lot of soul searching and personal reflection. What I found was I had a lot of gifts that I’d used all through my life. They just had different titles as my religion and growth changed. But at the end of the day the truth for me was a I was a medium, a psychic medium. I gave people advice and received ideas and little promptings that went beyond what would be conceived “normal.”

After coming to this place of understanding I sat on my porch off a little highway in rural Tennessee so empowered by my revelation and so starved for identity I told the universe to essentially,

 “Bring it on! I Could take it!”

Almost immediately a sense of dread and oh shit hit me like a ton of bricks. Well at least I knew my alarm system was in well order.

That was the first night over 30 days I didn’t sleep for more than 2 hours a night.  Every day and all night I kept hearing spirits. In my head, I’d hear their voices. In sleep I’d relive their deaths. In the day I felt constantly surrounded. Over time what started out as 1-5 spirits quickly became 50-100. I was so overwhelmed it was all I could do to function and run my family and my business.
If you can’t already tell I think I’m a badass. And when you act like that it’s hard to ask for help.

I smudged. I salted. I blessed. I did everything you can imagine to take my space back. And it would work, for a while. The problem was I hadn’t figured out the source of the water faucet of activity I had turned on.

I slept in the living room with the TV on. I could not sleep in my bedroom. At one point I got on medication. They prescribed me Zoloft and Ambien and Trazadone to sleep. Even with this combination of drugs I was only getting 1-2 hours rest a night. One time in a desperate bid for sleep I did a couple shots of Vodka with Ambien. I slept 2 hours exactly. I do not suggest doing that.

Over time the Zoloft kicked in and my level of anxiety diminished. It was like with sleep came clarity. One day I sat down surrounded by burning sage and white candles and I walked my entire house in my mind. What I learned was I had a big ass portal in my master closet.

So no matter how many times I smudged, blessed or salted if I didn’t close that door way they would continue to come through. Just a big ole afterlife networking event at Bri’s house. While I do love to host a part this was bullshit.

With the help of my friend, a Kinetic Witch named Linna, I was able to close the portal. You need ceremony to close portals. Since I was without any ideas I defaulted to her. It worked. But I stayed on the meds.

Now 2 years later, off the meds, I find myself in a 116 year old farmhouse with a portal in my hallway, 2 daughters with their own gifts, and a ghost named Thomas who says I need to do a better job of cleaning house.

And guess what, I sleep at night.

What’s the difference? I accepted my gifts first of all. Then I went out and got a coach. This woman changed my life and showed me how to manage all my talents and utilize them for good. Which also enabled me to help my daughters as well.

The adage is true. If you ever want to develop, maintain, or control a skill hire a coach.


Disclaimer: This is not a dig at people with mental illness. This is not a post to use to diagnose yourself or anyone else in anyway. This was just my own story in an attempt to be of service. And what perfect time of year than Halloween to offer a little service concerning the dead.

About the Author:

Bri Clark is a real example of redemption and renewal. Growing penniless in the South, Bri learned street smarts while caring for her brother in a broken home. She watched her mother work several jobs to care for their small family. Once her brother could fend for himself, Bri moved on to a series of bad choices including leaving school and living on her own.

Rebelliousness was a strong understatement to describe those formative years. As a teenager, her wakeup call came from a fight with brass knuckles and a judge that gave her a choice of shaping up or spending time in jail. She took that opportunity and found a way to moved up from the streets. She ended up co-owning an extremely successful construction business. She lived the high life until the real estate crash when she lost everything.

She moved west and found herself living with her husband and 4 kids in a 900 square foot apartment. For 10 years she filled her time, writing, blogging, advocating and mentoring women in business, and running a successful marketing company while sharing her southern culture. Her unique background gives her writing a raw sensibility. She understands what it takes to overcome life's obstacles.

Then in 2015 she came home to her beloved TN. While there she picked back up her spiritual gifts of an intuitive psychic medium. With the help of her guides it's her greatest goal to be a vessel for good and to serve those that need help either through her writings or her books.




a Rafflecopter giveaway

Wednesday, October 11, 2017

Xandria Drake: Ancient Rising by Laura C. Cantu - Haunted Halloween Spooktacular




Xandria Drake: Ancient Rising
Xandria Drake
Book 1
Laura C. Cantu

Genre: Young Adult, Paranormal Fantasy

Publisher: Serendipity Digital Media KC

Date of Publication: November 13, 2013

ISBN: 978-0988585102
ASIN: B00BMBMF90

Number of pages: 448
Word Count: 131,357

Cover Artist: Laura C. Cantu

Tagline: When you learn your life is a lie, who do you trust?

Book Description:

“When an unusual carnival pulls into town, Xandria Drake has no clue this mystical fairground will thrust her into a thrilling world of mystery, deception, and danger. Her predictable existence will soon be transformed into a turbulent reality where magic reigns, and creatures of fantasy are just as tangible as her ballroom dancing trophies. New revelations will send Xandria on a quest in which she is forced to question everything and everyone, including the man of her dreams, Viktor.

When Viktor confesses his interest in Xandria, she couldn’t be happier. Her joy quickly fades, however, when Viktor reveals he is a vampire. Xandria is soon forced to face shadowy and obscure dangers she never knew existed, and on the coattails of the impending darkness rides Viktor’s greatest rival andXandria’s ultimate temptation, Sebastian Vespera.

Will Xandria’s love for Viktor be enough? Or will Sebastian’s seductions ensnare Xandria in a fierce and powerful romance? How will Xandria cope with the forbidden knowledge she gains? Mysterious, magical, and compelling, Xandria Drake: Ancient Rising is witty when you want it to be and serious when it needs to be. This paranormal fantasy novel will capture you from the beginning and won’t let you go until long after the story is finished.”




Meeting a Monster -A True Story

When I was younger, a group of newly acquired friends and I tried to think of something eerie to do on Halloween night. Little did we know, that we would see something truly terrifying that would change our lives forever.
Like many teenagers, we decided that visiting a cemetery was just about the perfect way to give ourselves a good scare. I had just moved to town, and my new friends insisted that there was a glowing tombstone in an old, run down graveyard off a gravel road about thirty miles outside of town. So, we piled in a small, two-door car and drove, excited about the prospects of having some good ghost stories to tell on the way.
The road we were driving on was a narrow, two-lane service road with lots of potholes, hills, and curves. The locals had spread rumors that “devil-worshipers” often held ceremonies along that road, and one of the girls, who was sitting in the back seat, seemed to be enjoying herself as she recounted the spooky stories. She spoke of how the Satanists skinned animals alive, and how there were strange sightings in the area. Her last story was about the glowing gravestone; she claimed it was cursed.
We drove farther and farther from town, well over thirty miles, and I fidgeted in my seat. I was beginning to have second thoughts about going so far out into the night, especially since I hadn’t let my mother know where I was going. Back then, we didn’t have mobile phones. If something unexpected or dreadful happened, there would’ve been no one around to help, and my mother wouldn’t have even known where to look.
I shook my head, trying to shake off my growing apprehension as silence suddenly fell over the car like a soft, suffocating blanket. I cleared my throat to speak up but thought better of it. I didn’t want to be the one who chickened out and insist on turning back.
The car’s headlights pierced the darkness of the night and bugs thumped into the windshield as we continued to drive along. That’s when it happened.
The car came to a screeching halt.
There, in the middle of the road, sat a coyote. The driver of the car, a sixteen-year-old girl with short curly hair named Angie (her name has been changed to protect her identity), honked at the coyote. To our amazement, it didn’t move. Instead, it lazily looked in our direction as if it had nothing better to do than sit in the middle of the road, blocking our way.
She honked again.
The coyote blinked. The lights of the car reflected on its retina, causing its eyes to glow a dull shade of red.
When it did not budge this time, Angie yelled and honked again, but this time she held her hand down so that the horn blared into the night air.
It was then that the coyote stood on its two hind legs and turned toward us, a tall looming monster with sharp teeth and penetrating eyes.
Angie’s hand slid from the steering wheel as we all sat in amazement at this towering beast. It seemed to be looking us over, mulling over what it would do next.  Was he contemplating eating us?
I couldn’t find my voice. All I could do was sit there, slack-jawed and bewildered.
Just when I thought we were going to have to flee for our lives, the creature turned and ran away, its movements akin to that of a running human.
Everyone in the car finally found their voices to scream! Angie whipped a U-turn, and we hightailed it back to town.


Even today, over twenty years later, the vision of that creature is still clearly etched upon my memory. That was the day that I began questioning how magical and mysterious our world truly is.  -Laura C. Cantu
About the Author:

Laura C. Cantu is a multitalented artist, visionary, and humanitarian. Throughout her life, she has felt an overwhelming desire explore the mysteries of the unknown and to expand her awareness and experiences. By allowing her perspective to shift and change, Laura has learned to unleash her imagination and use it to guide her through creative processes. She passionately follows her dreams and has achieved high levels of success in her various careers. As a professional dancer, Laura won six national titles and placed fourth in the Professional Argentine Tango World Championships. She also stretched her creative muscles as a visual artist with drawings that toured across the globe. Adding to her diverse accomplishments, Laura earned her master’s degree in Oriental Medicine in 2012, which has afforded her opportunities to assist many along their journeys to realizing wellness.

Despite her already jeweled career, there is another passion Laura delights in—the art of storytelling. Her first young adult fantasy novel, Xandria Drake: Ancient Rising, earned rave reviews and a Goodreads' book of the month award. Currently working on The Vathylite Realms, Laura is harnessing and focusing her energies to craft engaging stories that are meant to bring joy, inspiration, and awareness to all who read them.

Laura is on a mission to live a life of inspiration, truth, and empowerment. With future books pending release, she continues to dance as a hobby, study energetics and wellness, and explore her imagination. Laura also enjoys drawing and creating 3D art and animations, hiking, meditation, playing guitar, and spending time with her family, friends, and pets.









a Rafflecopter giveaway