10 August, 2011

Blog Tour: Ward Against Death by Melanie Card



Thanks to Entangled Publishing, and author Melanie Card, I'm happy to have Read My Mind be a part of the blog tour for Card's newest release, WARD AGAINST DEATH.


Thank you Lillie for inviting me to be your guest today. I'm thrilled to be here. I'd love to introduce you to the world of WARD AGAINST DEATH. The book is a fantasy set in another world (although it isn't just a fantasy, it's a mystery/adventure and a romance, too.)


One of the things I love about writing fantasy is the freedom to take little tidbits of historical fact and add fantastical details to it. So I've taken the flavor of the Renaissance (corsets, doublets, a few wigs, carriages, and rapiers), added a strong religious power with the ability to greatly influence the kings and queens of many kingdoms (reminiscent of the Catholic Church during the 1600s), and added an elite FBI style investigation force (with swords instead of guns.) I've taken great liberties with the root information, so only the historic flavor remains—once I started writing in the world it kind of took on a life of its own, and I have no doubt, magical items and abilities aside, that there are more than a few anachronistic details.

The world is called the Union of Principalities. It's a kingdom of sixteen principalities united under one religious power, The Grewdian Council. Each principality has its own ruling Prince (or Princess), guided, of course by that principality's Seer. There are few military disagreements between the principalities because of the Grewdian Council, and they trade freely with each other, although prejudice still remains among some principalities.

The Grewdian Council is a council of thirteen seers who have the magical gift of seeing possible futures. They, along with other men with the seer’s gift, rule the predominant religion and lead worship in temples throughout the principality. They believe in an all powerful Goddess, Her Light Son, and Her Dark Son who’s divine presence oversees all aspects of the world. Also within the Grwdian Council's control is an elite force of soldiers: the Quayestri, those who uphold spiritual law.

The Quayestri have absolute authority over the law (their word can hold more weight than the general of a principality's army, although for diplomatic reasons they usually proceed carefully when accusing a nobleman of a crime.) On the command of the Grewdian Council the Quayestri hunt the worst criminals in the Union of Principalities, regardless of whether these criminals cross principality boarders. The Quayestri are divided into two groups: Trackers and Inquisitors. All Quayestri are seen with reserve among the people of the principalities since their word is law and final, particularly if you're not of noble blood. And there are members of the Quayestri who abuse their power.

The Trackers are the detectives of the Quayestri. They follow clues, track criminals, interview witnesses, and apprehend criminals. They are highly skilled in various combat styles, horsemanship, military strategy, as well as court etiquette and principality politics. They are the more welcome (and slightly less feared) of the Quayestri because they don't possess any magical abilities.

The Inquisitors are the most feared of the Quayestri, and, while not publicly shunned, are avoided if possible. They have the magical ability to read memories and—depending on the strength of the Inquisitor's ability—to sense emotions. The process of reading a person's memories is painful and potentially dangerous. The Inquisitor's ability rips into the person's mind (which can permanently damage the mind), finds the memory of the crime, and projects it in the air for everyone to see. This confirms the criminal’s guilt and the Inquisitor then deals out the sentence. If the sentence isn't death but court service or something else, the criminal has a goddess-eye branded onto the back of his/her neck as a reminder that the Goddess is always watching.

Thank you for joining me today. WARD AGAINST DEATH is a combination of different historical details. What historical details do you like to see included in a fantasy book?




Check out the following excerpt from WARD AGAINST DEATH to whet your interest.

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Another crossbow bolt embedded in the wood by Ward’s head. He dropped to his knees
and scrambled into the records room, pressing his back to the wall, his sharp gasps forced past the lump in his throat.

Celia closed the book, slipped it on the shelf beside a row of other, identical books, and shut the false front, revealing a plain paneled wall. She eased to the door and knelt beside him. “Did you see how many there are?”

He shook his head, not trusting his voice. He’d been in trouble before, but the held-at-sword-point-and-arrested kind. Never the kind where people shot arrows at him. She poked her head around the edge of the doorframe. Two more bolts hit the wall. All the muscles in Ward’s body contracted.

“They seem serious,” he said, hoping bravado would counterbalance his shaking.
She sat back on her heels. “If they are, they’re not very good shots.”

He swallowed. They seemed fine to him, but he supposed now wasn’t the time to start a debate . It would be better if he asked Celia about her escape plan, although he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear that, either.

She glanced out the door again. This time there was no answering crossbow fire. “They’ve taken cover. Which means they’re waiting for us to make a run for it.” She flashed him a huge grin. “I think we should oblige them.”

“Excuse me?” Had he heard wrong? Had she just said they should make a run for it?

“Just outside this door, to the left, is a pile of sacks.”

He didn’t recall any sacks. Of course, if asked at that moment what he wore, he wasn’t sure he could say.

“I’ll bet they’ve placed a man there. I’m sure they’ll count on me betting on that, so they’re hoping I’ll risk the open area to the right. The barrels over there are bigger, but farther away.”

“Bigger is good.”

“Sure, and the run to them will make us bigger targets.”

“But there’s a man over the other way.”

“Yes.” She lunged out the door and to the left.

Two more bolts slammed into the wall behind her.

How did he get into this again?
Another bolt hit the wall. Someone screamed. Was it Celia? Ward jumped to his feet and followed, bent over, arms covering his head. He could feel the archers sizing him up along the length of their crossbows.

A bolt whizzed past him, and he dove for the space between the wall and the sacks,
sliding to the edge of a pool of blood. A man, his neck a gaping wound, stared at him. Ward scrambled back, hands sticky.

Somehow, she’d stolen the man’s dagger and slit his throat in a matter of seconds. This was the art passed down from mother to daughter in her family? If it had been something like needlepoint, they wouldn’t be in this situation at all.

Celia grabbed the back of his shirt and hauled him into a crouch. “There’s a side door that way.” She pointed along the path between the wall and a long row of barrels. “It’ll be guarded. Do you still have that dagger?”

Ward held it up, his hand trembling. He didn’t know who was more surprised, Celia or himself.

“Are you having fun yet, necromancer?”

“Fun?” His voice cracked. “You’re mad.”

“Yes. I’m told it runs in the family.” She squeezed his shoulder, her eyes bright with either excitement or insanity—Ward couldn’t decide which. She crawled toward the door beneath the cover of the barrels. Forearm over forearm and legs spread, lying low to the floor, she skimmed the tiles with her belly. She reached the edge of the barrels in four quick pounds of Ward’s heart, and peeked around the corner. Then she dashed the last two feet to the door, threw it open, and flew out, her bloody dagger held tight up the length of her forearm.

Ward gulped, trying to make himself stand and run.

Someone shouted.

What awaited him beyond that door? His death? Celia’s death—again? It was so much
easier when he didn’t see how a person died, when the individual was a lifeless body on a table, his soul across the veil within the bosom of the Goddess.

He ground his teeth, and glanced over his shoulder at the body behind him. Some
necromancer he was. He wasn’t even able to control his own zombie, or whatever she was. Maybe he should have paid closer attention to the necromancer’s obligation to maintain the balance between life and death. The false life he’d given her was claiming real lives in an attempt to correct the imbalance.

But her death was false, too. Someone had murdered her, and she had a right to find
justice before she crossed over. It was more than most murder victims received.
It also didn’t matter if she was crazy or not. She was still defending herself—and him, for that matter. He had it within his power to help her and prevent more people from dying. He was Edward de’Ath the Fourth, eighth-generation necromancer. His family could raise the Prophets of Aawabaen—or at least Grandfather could. What untapped powers did he possess? He’d successfully performed the Jam de’U with improvised components, a fraction of the time in meditation, and thugs banging on the door. If he called on the spirits of the Ancients, would that
be enough to scare off whoever was on the other side of that door? Another shout made him jump. This one sounded more like a guttural command.

No, calling the Ancients would be too difficult. He didn’t even know if they were on the other side of the veil. Better to stick with something easier, like a reverse wake. Well, he wasn’t entirely sure how easy it was, but he’d performed so many regular wakes before, how much harder could it be to push out someone’s soul instead of calling it back?

He looked at his bloody hands. He didn’t even have to go out of his way to find blood— Celia had seen to that.

He swallowed hard and ran for the door, skidding to a halt before he reached it and
ducking behind the barrels. It would be better if he could support his plan with a means of escape as well. He turned his gaze to the stalls across from him. The horses snorted and pranced, their eyes wide at the fighting and scent of blood.

It wasn’t the first time he’d shoved a bridle on a nervous horse―just the first time he’d done it to save a noblewoman who happened to be the daughter of the Dominus, and who also happened to be an assassin. There wasn’t a person alive—or dead—who’d believe it if Ward told them this story.

Another shout and a scream made Ward jump. Sucking in a calming breath, he ran to
the nearest stall, grabbed the bridle from the hook by the door, and opened the gate.

The horse whinnied and shook its head, the whites of its eyes bright in the dim light.

“Yeah, I know,” Ward said. “Let’s get out of here.”

He stepped closer, trying not to add to the horse’s fear, but still move as fast a possible. He eased his left thumb into the corner of the horse’s mouth, slipped the bit in, and fastened the bridle at the top and nose. With one fluid motion, he swung onto the horse’s back.

A crossbow bolt glanced Ward’s hip, ripping his shirt. The horse bucked and leapt from the stall. Celia was right. They either were bad shots or they didn’t want him dead. He tried to form a coherent thought, figure out why he was still alive, but he couldn’t settle on anything. His mind was a whirl of ideas, images, and memories, all racing with his wild pulse, screaming for him to flee.

He spurred the horse through the side door into the courtyard beyond. Men held Celia, one at each arm, while a third, a massive man with swarthy skin and wild braided hair, faced her. To their right, three men lay in a pool of blood. Ward closed his eyes and raised a bloody hand, drawing on his family’s ancient power.
He imagined it shooting through the men before him, forcing their souls from their bodies.

For a heartbeat there was silence.

He did it! He couldn’t believe it. He’d actually cast a reverse wake.

But then he opened his eyes. Nothing had changed. Everyone remained standing, and
everyone stared at him. Soulless bodies didn’t litter the ground. No one looked affected in any way. Not even sleepy.

Crap.

----------

Sounds good, right? Luckily, I have the opportunity to offer one commenter an e-book copy of WARD AGAINST DEATH, today and today only. That's right, until 10pm today (August 10th), just leave a comment to be entered, which either poses a question to Melanie Card, or answers her question to you that is in bold just above the Entangled Publishing banner in this post. Want an extra chance at winning? Just let me know in your comment!
Follow Melanie on Twitter +1
Follow Melanie on Facebook +1
Follow Melanie on GoodReads +1

Good Luck to all!


Twenty-year-old Ward de’Ath expected this to be a simple job—bring a nobleman’s daughter back from the dead for fifteen minutes, let her family say good-bye, and launch his fledgling career as a necromancer. Goddess knows he can’t be a surgeon—the Quayestri already branded him a criminal for trying—so bringing people back from the dead it is.

But when Ward wakes the beautiful Celia Carlyle, he gets more than he bargained for. Insistent that she’s been murdered, Celia begs Ward to keep her alive and help her find justice. By the time she drags him out her bedroom window and into the sewers, Ward can’t bring himself to break his damned physician’s Oath and desert her.

However, nothing is as it seems—including Celia. One second, she’s treating Ward like sewage, the next she’s kissing him. And for a nobleman’s daughter, she sure has a lot of enemies. If he could just convince his heart to give up on the infuriating beauty, he might get out of this alive…

07 August, 2011

RAK: Random Acts of Kindness Update With August Wishlist

RAK (Random Acts of Kindness) is a really great program that Vanessa and Isalys of Book Soulmates have started. Basically, it gives bloggers, book lovers and readers the chance to brighten someone's day by sending them a book that they've put on their wishlist. For July, I didn't have a chance to send out as many books as I wanted to, but I did find an international (sort of; Canadian) blogger to send a couple of books to. Unfortunately, one of the books didn't make it through. *sad face* But, I love this program, so I'll keep trying!

Book Soulmates Sent:

Deceived by the Others by Jess Haines
Warrior by Zoe Archer to Natasha

Received:

Memento Nora by Angie Smibert from Joli
Thank you so much!

I'm participating again for August, and I'm happy to accept new or gently-read ARCs and finished copies of books. I also love e-books, but they have to be in epub or pdf format, thanks. Here's my wishlist:


YA

Always a Witch by Carolyn MacCullough
Possess by Gretchen McNeil
Anna Dressed in Blood by Kendare Blake
Flying Blind by Deborah Cooke
Vixen by Jillian Larkin
Everblue by Brenda Pandos
Crusade by Nancy Holder
The Ghost and the Goth by Stacey Kade
Nevermore by Kelly Creagh
Spirit Storm by E.J. Stevens
Entangled by Cat Clarke
This World We Live In by Susan Beth Pfeffer
Hourglass by Myra McEntire
Die for Me by Amy Plum
Liar's Moon by Elizabeth C. Bunce
The Liar Society by Lisa and Laura Roecker
Luminous by Dawn Metcalf


Adult

Another Kind of Dead by Kelly Meding
Second Grave on the Left by Darynda Jones
Black Night by Christina Henry
Tempest Rising by Nicole Peeler
Dead, Undead, or Somewhere In Between by J.A. Saare
Nightfall by Ellen Conner
Assassin's Honor by Monica Burns
Holly's Inbox: Scandal in the City by Holly Denham
Stolen by Kelley Armstrong
The Greyfriar by Clay Griffith
Body of Sin by Eve Silver
Plain Fear: Forsaken by Leanna Ellis



Want to join the RAK-ers this month? Here's how you do it.
Rules:
• Sign up each month you'd like to participate in.
• Show off your participation! Grab one of the buttons available :)
• Create a wish list and post it in the Google Doc located in each R.A.K post for the month.
{Post on your blog, Amazon, where ever as long as there's a link to it.}
• If you choose to do a R.A.K for someone, check out their wish list and contact that blogger for their address.
• At the end of the month, SHOW US YOUR R.A.K!
Make a post saying 'Thank You' to whoever granted one of your wishes and share it with us :)

01 August, 2011

Blog Tour: The Marked Son by Shea Berkley Character Interview



I’d like to thank the powers that be at Read My Mind for inviting Dylan, the main character in my book THE MARKED SON, and me to chat.


Seventeen-year-old Dylan Kennedy always knew something was different about him, but until his mother abandoned him in the middle of Oregon with grandparents he’s never met, he had no idea what.

When Dylan sees a girl in white in the woods behind his grandparents’ farm, he knows he’s seen her before… in his dreams. He’s felt her fear. Heard her insistence that only he can save her world from an evil lord who uses magic and fear to feed his greed for power.

Unable to shake the unearthly pull to Kera, Dylan takes her hand. Either he’s completely insane or he’s about to have the adventure of his life, because where they’re going is full of creatures he’s only read about in horror stories. Worse, the human blood in his veins has Dylan marked for death…


That gives you a quick overview of THE MARKED SON, but I thought it’d be interesting to ask Dylan a few questions and see what makes him tick.
Warning: right now, Dylan isn’t particularly fond of me. In fact, I think it’s safe to say, he loathes me like a dog loathes fleas. I’m hoping he’ll be cooperative and talk. Let’s find out.


1. Hi, Dylan. Can you tell everyone a little about yourself:
Did you tell them I’d rather hang upside down over boiling oil than talk to you?


(sigh) Not in those exact words, but yeah, they know. I promise things will look better soon, now please, answer the question.
I’m not sure I believe you. I read your Facebook account. You’re a trouble maker.

(grrr…I knew I didn’t like Facebook for a reason.) I’m begging you, Dylan. If you answer these questions, I promise cross-my-heart-hope-to-die-a-terrible-death that you’ll like me very soon.

Okay, but you’d better keep your promise. Honestly, there’s not much to say. I live with my mom who’s a real head case. She one of those women looking for the “one”. She’s intense, which in plain English means she’ll throw herself at any guy moving faster than a shuffle. We move around a lot. I don’t know why. Okay, I do know why, but she’ll throw a fit if I tell you. Let me put it this way. The men she leaves behind aren’t sad to see her go.

2. You move around a lot, huh? That must be difficult keeping a hobby going. What are your hobbies?
I have one hobby. Music. It’s one of the few things that calms me down or cranks me up. Slip in some metal head stuff and I zone out. Sometimes a guy’s just got to forget, you know?

3. Yeah, I know. I pop in RED for that. They have some sweet riffs and raspy vocals that I love. Oh, sorry. This isn’t about me. What’s your job, and how did you get hooked into it?

I don’t have a job. I’ve tried, but every time I get one, Mom springs a new move on us, and we leave for the next town. I’m experiencing what intellectuals call a “wanderlust” upbringing, but basically we no better than gypsies.

4. That sounds lonely.

You have no idea. I change friends more often than I change underwear.

Sorry about that. Really. Since you move a lot, I guess you don’t have any enemies, right?

Everybody loves me. Well, okay, Leo’s dad isn’t that crazy about me, but I don’t think he likes a lot of people. He’s got trust issues.

Oh, and then there’s Navar. He’s got this thing about killing those he doesn’t like, and since I’m in love with the girl he loves, well, yeah. He’s not exactly my best buddy.

5. What’s the biggest challenge you face in your story?

I wish I had only one. I’m kinda messed up. (again, thanks for that)

Listen, if you had a mom like mine, you’d be cruising Crazy Street too. I dig at Leo’s dad for not trusting people, but I’m worse than he is. I think it’s because I’m forgettable. Do you know what that does to a person, knowing one day everybody is hanging with you and having a good time and the next, they can hardly remember your name?

6. I can see how that would be frustrating. What’s the one event that you feel has shaped your personality?

Oh man. You just had to ask that one, didn’t you. Fine, I’ll tell you. It’s the day I asked Mom about my dad. She went ballistic, and I mean, nuclear explosion. It taught me that the people who say they love you don’t. It taught me not to trust anything anyone says. People lie because it’s easier than facing the truth. How’s that for biting the bullet and having it explode in your mouth?

7. Easy, buddy. Let’s try something less traumatic. What’s your earliest memory from your childhood?

I don’t think you can ask me anything that doesn’t wind back into some kind of trauma, even when I was a kid. Okay, this is going to sound… weird, but the first thing I remember are trees. They were trying to attack me. I don’t know if it was a dream or the beginning of my wacked-up imagination, because soon after that, I found my one and only true friend, except she only appears in my dreams. See? I told you I’m messed up. How many seventeen-year-old guys do you know who have make-believe friends?

8. Make-believe friends aren’t that odd…okay, they’re not that common in guys your age… okay, they aren’t common at all. You’re freaking me out, actually. Let’s move on, okay? Are you involved in a romance?

(laugh) I know nothing about being romantic, but I am in love. That make-believe friend of mine is a girl. I know… it just got really uncomfortable for you knowing I’m in love with a girl who only appears in my dreams. You can see how I don’t talk a lot about that. No one knows about her, and I’d like to keep it that way. I’m going to give her up. After this year. I just need a little more time to get settled at my grandparents’ house before I let go. I get that she’s some mental security blanket, so I’m not freaking about letting her go. I just don’t want to do it just yet, but I will… soon. I promise.

9. Hey, I say ride that carpet of delusion for as long as you need to. I’m not judging you…much. I’ve got an easy question for you and hopefully one not affiliated with your dream girl. What’s your favorite indulgence?

Girls. See? Even I know the girl in my dreams isn’t real. Anyway, I like girls, and they like me. I’m not a jerk though. I don’t use them. I tell them exactly what I’m willing to offer, and that’s a good time. Period. I don’t do attachments. Clingy isn’t my style, though Grandma insists that’ll change once I meet the right girl. She doesn’t get it. I’ve “met” a lot of girls, and I’ve never liked any enough to want one to be my girlfriend. Mom hates me because of that. Thinks I’m just like the guys she dates who use her, abuse her and then lose her. Whatever.

10. Wow, we’ve plunged into TMI territory. How about we jump out? What’s your favorite sport?

You’re the one asking the questions. I’m just being honest.

I like my sports extreme. I’m naturally gifted in that I can shred a rail with my board at top speed and make it look easy. I love catching air, doing flips and curls and wicked pop/spin outs.

11. Do you have any pets?

Mom says I’m allergic. Grandpa says she’s full of it. I think he’s right. Mom just never wanted to bother with me AND a pet. Too much responsibility for a woman who can barely take care of herself.

12. What’s the one thing you want most in the whole world?

This is going to sound cliché, but I just want to be happy. No matter what I do, people find a way to crush my dreams. I can’t live in ruralville anymore. I need to get away, find excitement. I want to live in the city, so that means I’ve got to graduate high school. That’s my main goal. I do not want to end up like my mom, uneducated, underpaid and unwanted. I’m going to make something of myself. Just wait and see.

13. I believe you, Dylan, and I know you’ve had it rough for a long time, but things are going to change. Just wait and see. If you could say one thing to your readers, what would it be?

I know I don’t fit in. I know I’m not like everyone else, but I don’t know why. I’m scared, but guys aren’t allowed that emotion, so I try not to let it show. I’ve got to suck it up and fix my problems myself. That’s how my life has always been. When you’ve basically been left to raise yourself, you tend to screw yourself up. I’m doing the best I can, but even I know I need help. My grandparent’s act like they’re willing to try, but in my world, promises are cheap and always get broken. Kera’s the only one who’s been there for me. I know that sounds crazy, but it’s my life.

14. Here’s your last question. If you could say one thing to me, your author, what would it be?
Even though Kera’s not real, thanks for giving her to me. She’s made life less difficult, but could you maybe think about creating a real girl for me? One that looks and acts exactly like Kera? After everything you’ve put me through, I think I deserve a little happiness, don’t you?


As everyone can tell, Dylan is a bit upset, and rightly so. His life isn’t exactly going in the direction that he wants… so here’s what I promise you and your readers, Dylan. I promise to make your story the most entertaining, fun, thrilling ride I can—and you know you’ve had some amazing fun in this story.

Just remember, Book One is just that, the first part of your story. You may suffer some pretty horrible things, but by Book Three, you should understand that all good things aren’t handed to you. You’ve got to fight for your right to happiness. And you’re tough, Dylan. You’re not a quitter. I’m as certain as I’ve ever been that you’ll have your happily-ever-after ending.



I hope you all have enjoyed getting to know Dylan. He’s a bit frayed around the edges, but he’s a great guy, one I know you all will come to adore. In between books, you can find me at a number of places online.

Connect with Shea: Facebook | SheaBerkley.com | Goodreads | RubySlipperedSisterhood.com





Thanks to Shea and Dylan for visiting. I'm really excited about this release, and I'm happy to say that, in conjunction with the tour, I'm able to offer one of my readers the chance to win an e-book copy of THE MARKED SON! If you enjoyed that insight into Dylan, and want your chance to win, just fill out the form below. As always:

The Rules
1. Must be 13+ to enter
2. One entry form per person, per email address
3. INTERNATIONAL!
4. Contest ends August 10th, 6pm EDT



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