Let The Kazumi Chronicles begin – Excerpt + 10 writing advice tips

Shadow of Deception by Sophia L. Johnson

(The Kazumi Chronicles, #1)

Publication date: 9 April, 2015

Genres: Science Fiction, Young Adult

Synopsis:

2153, Toronto, United Nation of North America (UNNA)

A horrific plane crash kills all five hundred and forty-two passengers except one. Kazumi emerges from the wreckage physically unscathed but has lost all her memories. Her miraculous survival has the whole city buzzing but all she wants is to go home, wherever home is.

After waiting a month in the hospital with no one to claim her, Kazumi is deemed homeless. She is about to be sent to a nearby teenage shelter when the nurse she grew to trust ushers her down a mysterious path, one that promises safety and maybe even the chance to recover her memories. With no better options available, Kazumi takes her chance and finds herself in the headquarters of the Sarcomeres, a secret society of genetically advanced humans hidden deep inside the Rocky Mountains. The Sarc’s heightened physical abilities and high-tech gadgets are not the only things that fascinate Kazumi. Finnegan O’Riley, a fellow Sarc she meets along the way also gets her heart racing. When Kazumi discovers that she possesses the genetic potential of a Sarcomere, she jumps at the chance to train with them, not knowing the death defying tests that are involved.

Meanwhile, a centuries-old nemesis of the Sarcomeres begins to stir in the dark, setting their dark plans in motion. Just when Kazumi thinks she can help protect her new found home, past memories surface to threaten her new identity. She soon realizes that layers of deception run deep and everyone has a secret agenda, including herself.

Who can she trust when she can’t even trust herself? One wrong decision could bring forth consequences worse than death.

Shadow of Deception is the gold medal winner at the Moonbeam Children’s Book Award.

Excerpt from Shadow of Deception

The Kazumi Chronicles #1

Despite my slower pace, we manage to put a good distance between us and the pursuing soldiers. The ruin that was once the train station is far behind us now.

Just when I think we are out of harm’s way, four dark figures emerge from the trees fifty feet ahead, blocking our path. Their faces are hooded by their purple robes.

Finn stops abruptly and I stumble forward. He tightens his grip on me so I don’t trip and fall.

“What is it?” I gasp, feeling like a very large person is sitting on my chest.

“Neuronics,” Finn says under his breath. “Stay close to me, don’t look them in the eye, and don’t believe anything you see. Use this when you have the chance.” He hands me a gun.

I don’t remember if I ever held a gun before, but it’s heavier than I thought. The cool and smooth metal is somewhat soothing against my hot and sweaty palm. There are red markings infused into its gleaming surface, just like the blades I saw back in the training hall. The lines and curves of the characters remind me of ancient runes. And the red ink inside seems to be moving, like a mini river flowing through a maze. This is his gun, not a stolen one from the soldiers like I thought.

“Duck!” Finn pulls me to the ground as a massive tree trunk flies over our heads. I look up and see the four figures still standing at their original spot. Their hoods lowered, revealing their stern faces. All of them male.

I want to ask Finn where did that tree trunk come from but the blue soldiers have caught up to us from behind. Finn springs onto his feet and collides with the crowd of blue in a flash.

I hold up my gun with trembling hands, thinking I can help Finn clear out a few enemies. But the chaotic blur makes it difficult for me to aim. I shift my attention to the purple figures and they too have advanced closer.

Trying to steady my aim, I heedlessly stare into the eyes of one of the Neuronics and find myself immobilized by his intense gaze. No matter how hard I try to look away, my eyes will not comply. I begin to feel something invisible reaching into my mind, like tentacles creeping through my brain, scrutinizing my every brain cell.

NO!

Frantically, I drop the gun and clutch my head with both hands. I need to get these tentacles out of my head. But they are growing in number and are now in every orifice of my head.

AHH!. . . gross!

I can see their ends flailing from my nostrils. I grab onto one with my fingers and I pinch as hard as I can. But the damn thing won’t die. The feeling is horrible, like a sickening itch in my brain that I can never scratch.

The sensation intensifies. I drop to my knees with a piercing cry. “Get off me!” I scratch, squeeze, rake, and peel at every bit of tentacle that I can get my hands on. They are too slimy and quick. The terrible itch spreads down my neck, threatening to take over my whole body. I yank one tentacle out of my neck just before it creeps down to my chest, but three more take its place with a vengeance.

“AHHHH . . .”

My hands are furiously battling with the creatures when my knee bumps into something solid. Through the flailing limbs, I see the gun on the ground, the gun Finn told me to use when the time is right.

I grab the gun and press the cold barrel to my head. The agony is insufferable. I wrap a finger around the trigger, ready for my sweet relief.

Add the book on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25335220-shadow-of-deception?ac=1&from_search=1

Last but not least, author Sophia L. Johnson answers: What are 10 random pieces of advice you'd give a writer?

1.  Start small to build up your discipline. Write a short story or just a description of your main character.

2.   Get in the habit of writing something every day, like 200 words each day. Doesn't take that long. And do it even if it's gibberish.

3.     Write a topic/genre you love. Readers can tell if the author is not passionate about his/her words.

4.     Don't try to sound fancy. Readers nowadays don't have the time or patience to google your ostentatious vocabulary as they read.

5.   Don't try to beautify your first draft. Let your words flow—however bad they might seem—and edit AFTER the story is done. Or else you will forever be stuck in that editing/re-editing mode without a complete story.

6.   DO YOUR RESEARCH! Can't stress that enough. Doesn't matter if your character is a farmer or a magic wielder, the fundamentals of their occupation must be or seem accurate. This goes for your world building as well. I once had a writing instructor who spent weeks trying to figure out if Vaseline in the 50s were in jars or tubes. Tubes, they came in tubes!

7.   Read! You'll be surprised how much you can learn from other authors by just reading their books. Don't be afraid to imitate their writing styles. Hardly any new writers can invent their own style in the beginning. So imitate until you find your own voice.

8.  Join a writer's group or a critique group. This is extremely helping in improving your craft and not to mention networking opportunities. It's very helpful to get others' opinions on your manuscript. We are so submerged in our work that often we oversee a lot of details or mistakes. A fresh set of eyes will spot those easily.

9.     Keep a notepad or use your phone to jot down any ideas that come to mind at anytime. Sometimes inspiration comes at the weirdest time and place.

10.  Stop procrastinating! Sit your butt down and start writing!

As part of the tour, there is a tour-wide giveaway for a $10 Amazon gift card. Ends 28 February 2015.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Buy links for Shadow of Deception:

Amazon and B&N.

About Sophia L. Johnson:

I had my first adventure at the age of nine when I flew halfway across the globe all by myself, not knowing a word of English. I was lucky my parents didn’t decide to cheap out and ship me as a parcel instead. But all jokes aside, it was because of financial and physical limitations that I had to fly to Canada solo. It was a great adventure for a nine year-old girl to be honest; aside from the puking, the starvation due to inedible raw vegetables and smelly goo of which I later found out were called salad and cheese. But I made it. I reunited with my parents and soon welcomed my baby brother to the world.

Twenty-five years later, I have a beautiful daughter of my own and a loving husband. We all live in Toronto, enjoying the cultural diversity the city offers. The only adventures I get to have nowadays is by living vicariously through my characters.

Author links:

http://www.sophialjohnsonbooks.com/

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/13808620.Sophia_L_Johnson

https://twitter.com/AuthorSLJ

https://www.facebook.com/shadowofdeception

Mending Heartstrings - guest post, interview and giveaway

Today, I'm featuring author Aria Glazki once more and her book Mending Heartstrings which has gotten a new bright and colourful cover. As part of the tour, there is a short interview, a guest post and tour-wide giveaway.

Book: Mending Heartstrings

Author: Aria Glazki

Genres: Romance, Adult

Cover design by: Christa Holland at Paper & Sage

(www.paperandsage.com)

Publication date: 9 February, 2016

Synopsis:

Kane’s a country singer who’s tangled with too many deceitful women. He’s learned his lesson: girls are for flirting and fun; emotions are for his music. But after spending a night with an earnest woman unlike any he’s known, he can’t force her out of his mind. So he goes in search of the woman he knows only as “Elle.”

On her last night in Nashville, the staunchly pragmatic Sabella found herself in a situation more suited to a romance novel than reality. Swept away, she ignored her rigidly self-imposed rules, succumbing to the fantasy just this once. But she knows real-world relationships have nothing in common with their fictionalized portrayals. When Kane unexpectedly shows up at her Portland apartment, she must choose between the practical truths she has learned and the desire for a passionate love she has struggled to suppress.

Despite the distance, Kane’s tour schedule, and their meddling friends, both are drawn to the chance for a romance neither quite believes is possible.

Interview with Aria Glazki

Tell us about Mending Heartstrings.

Mending Heartstrings is really about two people who both have reasons to avoid relationships, especially spontaneous ones, who still can’t deny the connection they feel during one lovely night together. But of course, they have to reconcile that interest with obstacles like living thousands of miles away and with their own trepidation, their pasts. So they each have to make the choice—do they even try, do they put in the effort, or do they simply give in to reality, to being practical?

And this is a choice many of us have to make when we first meet someone who interests us: are they worth the effort, and the potential of ending up hurt?

If you could choose to write from anywhere in the world, where would that be?

I would love to live and write in a flat in Paris—dashing out for fresh pastries (a.k.a. inspiration) and soaking in the creative legacy of the city, with incredible art, culture, and history from all over Europe at most a few hours away.

As a romance writer, how do you decide how hot or not your book is going to be?

The level of heat in my books is decided by the characters—sexually confident and adventurous characters demand more explicit, unabashed heat, whereas more timid or reserved characters are likely to keep their intimacy behind closed doors. Characters with different approaches to sexuality may bounce from one extreme to the other while finding the sweet spot for themselves as a couple. And of course, some characters’ relationships develop through their physical intimacy, in which case you’ll see those moments as that happens.

Any tips for new writers?

Take courses or workshops, and join writing groups with more experienced writers. Really pay attention to what other people are saying—but then sort through the pieces that ring true for you in your writing. After graduating with a Creative Writing degree, I was entirely demoralized with regards to writing. I sincerely thought I could never be an author, but a couple years later, a story idea wouldn’t let me go, and now here Mending Heartstrings is. So don’t allow the opinions of even “experts” to discourage you from writing if that’s your goal, just ensure you’re learning everything you can from their perspective and advice.

Any tips for old writers?

Break out of your genre! Constantly writing in the same genre can easily become formulaic, even across story lines, and while this can be quite successful commercially, it doesn’t allow for any growth as a writer. Eventually, writing essentially the same thing with different faces must get old, so try creating something that can’t possibly follow the path you’re used to and see what you can learn from the experience.

How to Be Impossibly Interesting at All Times 
Tour Guest Post by Aria Glazki

We authors may not like to admit it, but fascinating content doesn't stream endlessly from our fingertips—not for our books, not for our social media accounts, and not for blog (or guest) posts we write.

So many writers and authors are introverts at heart, preferring to keep to themselves. Some people, of course, are naturally outgoing and engaging and truly do seem fascinating with every comment they make. They set the bar impossibly high for the rest of us.

The pressure to be interesting at all times is perpetuated by much of the advice circulating the internet. And to that end, “fake it 'til you make it” is a pretty good motto. Projecting confidence encourages others to assume you actually know what you’re talking about. Unfortunately, it doesn’t quite help you figure out what to say, which can leave you writing about the impossibility of constantly producing engaging content.

So what's the most interesting thing about me? In my eyes, probably the characters in my books. Their lives, their relationships, their adventures and struggles and triumphs—all much more interesting than I am. Let's face it, there's a reason I'm not writing a memoir! Moreover, readers are quite lucky that most of an author's content is edited and revised before being published. Believe me, you don't want to see previously drafted options for this post.

Despite the struggle of coming up with a stream of fascinating content, and the occasional desire to pull all our hair out, authors continually return to the keyboard, reach deep down, and write something new, hoping you'll find it interesting. Not because it's our "job" or a requirement of book marketing, but because—introverted or not—we like engaging with all you lovely people who share one of our biggest passions: books.

One of my biggest hardships, personally, is always feeling like I'm talking at people. So let's turn this monologue into a dialogue. Tell me, what's the most interesting thing about you? And if you have questions for me, definitely feel free to ask in the comments!

Add the book on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/27873304-mending-heartstrings

GIVEAWAY

As part of the blog tour, Aria is hosting a tour-wide giveaway.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

What readers have said about Mending Heartstrings:

Buy Links:

Amazon US, Amazon UK, Amazon Canada, Amazon Australia, B&N, Smashwords, iBooks.

About the Author:

Aria’s writing story started when her seventh-grade English teacher encouraged her to submit a class assignment for publication. That piece was printed, and let’s just say, she was hooked!

Since then, Aria has run a literary magazine, earned her degree in Creative Writing (as well as in French and Russian literatures), and been published here and there. Though her first kiss technically came from a bear cub, and no fairytale transformation followed, Aria still believes magic can happen when the right people come together—if they don’t get in their own way, that is.

Other than all things literary, Aria loves spending time with her family, including her two unbearably adorable nieces. She also dabbles in painting, dancing, playing violin, and, given the opportunity, Epicureanism.

Connect with Aria:

Website: http://www.AriaGlazki.com

Twitter: http://Twitter.com/AriaGlazki

Facebook: http://Facebook.com/Aria.Glazki

Goodreads: http://Goodreads.com/Aria.Glazki

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Aria-Glazki/e/B00DHUXFY8

Open the Door by Nada Adel Sobhi – Poem

Open the door

Let in the light,

Sing me a song,

Hold me tight.

Whisper softly in my ear,

Read my a tale or two,

Drive away my fear,

As you hold me close to you.

I fear the day more than the night

I fear the world when it says

I'm wrong and it's right.

Hold me close,

Don’t let go.

The world is changing,

Don't let me go.

Confusion, anger, lying and defeat

Slowly eat my shell, my sanity,

I cannot stand these cheats;

I fear an upcoming calamity.

Open the door

Let in the light,

Sing me a song,

Hold me tight.

Raise me high above the ground

Away from the world, away from it all.

Hold me close, so I don't hear a sound

Hold me tight and don't let me fall.

Wrap me in your light,

Teach me what is right.

Tell me what I need to do,

To be a better person, a better you.

Awaken my soul, my heart,

My body and mind;

Awaken my senses, give them a start,

Teach me how to be human again.

Open the door

Let in the light,

Sing me a song,

And hold me tight.

Written 8 February 2016 at 00:09

This poem was inspired by the above picture for Takhayyal writing prompt no. 28.

Interview with AJ Waines on new psychological thriller No Longer Safe + Excerpt - Blog Tour

Psychological thriller author AJ Waines is back on Nadaness In Motion with a new book and tour!

Book: No Longer Safe

By: AJ Waines

Publication date:

Publisher: 4 February 2016

Blurb:

She was your best friend. Now she’s your deadliest enemy – and there’s nowhere to run…

When Alice receives an invitation from Karen, her charismatic University friend, to stay in a remote cottage in Scotland, she can’t wait to rekindle their lost friendship. But two more former students arrive – never friends of Alice’s – and as the atmosphere chills, Karen isn’t the warm-hearted soulmate Alice remembers. Barely is the reunion underway before someone is dead and the fragile gathering is pushed to breaking point.

As the snow cuts them off from civilisation and accusations fly, Alice finds herself a pawn, sinking deeper into a deadly game she can’t escape.

No Longer Safe is a chilling Psychological Thriller that delivers a delicious sting in the tail.

As part of the tour, AJ Waines managed to squeeze in a few psychology-related questions about her new novel in this short but exclusive interview followed by an excerpt/extract from the novel. The excerpt is also exclusive to Nadaness In Motion.

Q: How did you get the inspiration for your new book No Longer Safe?

AJ Waines: I loved the idea of getting four people who appear to be friends, to meet up after a long break, but who actually create a toxic mix when they are left together. The circumstances of the remote location, making the group largely cut-off from civilisation and brewing in their own company gives a volatile ‘hotbed’ feel to the book. With lies, pretence, secrets and ulterior motives, I wanted to create a sense that anything could happen...and it does…and where the worst side of people’s personalities would start to come out. 

Q: Do you consider certain psychological issues then incorporate them in the characters of your novels or do you have a character then try to include a psychological problem for them?

AJ Waines: I think it can be either, but for me, mainly the character comes first and I’ll think ‘He or she could do X or Y, because of this dysfunctional aspect in their character’. Occasionally, I have a ‘condition’ or a disorder I’d like to explore and I’ll think ‘What kind of person would be managing this syndrome? How would they hide it?’ Then I play around with both the character and the disorder and find out who that person might be.

In No Longer Safe, all the characters have mild psychological ‘issues’ from the start - Alice, the narrator, has low self-esteem, for example. It’s the events during the story, however, that trigger the main psychological impact for various figures in the story. In this way, the characters respond in certain ways as the story progresses, but what they do has to be latent from the start. The plot itself leads the psychological content, but the twists need to be borne out of the existing traits and qualities of the characters, although some of these behaviours and flaws are disguised.

Q: Does any of the main characters in the novel have a psychological issue (whether mild or major)? 

AJ Waines: In No Longer Safe, ALL the main characters have psychological ‘issues’! Some of these are clear from the start, other ‘defects’ start to emerge as the story progresses. Like ordinary people, the fictional characters try to hide their behaviours and coping strategies, so the reader comes up against lies, secrets and deception. In No Longer Safe, no one is who they appear to be…

Q: Do you have any works in progress? Can you tell us about them?

AJ Waines: I have a Trilogy – a series of three psychological thrillers coming out next! They all feature an intrepid (fictional) Clinical Psychologist, Samantha Willerby, who is based at a hospital in London. She faces extraordinary crimes hidden inside chilling mysteries that test her to the limit. The first book is called Inside the Whispers and is about several passengers who come to Sam recounting scenes from the same Tube disaster - an incident, she discovers, that they were never involved in. It’s due out in Autumn 2016!

Update: Finally I've read and reviewed No Longer Safe by A. J. Waines. 4 stars!

Exclusive excerpt from Chapter 6 from No Longer Safe by AJ Waines

When I woke the next morning, the world had changed. It was eerily quiet and still; as if all the sounds outside the cottage had been sucked away. I could tell from the quality of the shimmering grey light that there had been a fall of snow and I tugged at the curtains to see how deep it was.

Living in London again, I’d forgotten about the impact of a vast snowfall. Not just a dusting, but the dense accumulation that smothers everything in sight by dawn. I’d forgotten how it blanches the colours out of the air, smoothes over hard edges and creates new plump mysterious shapes.

I could see shades of white backed up for miles across the valley, over pine trees, crags and the occasional rooftop, but the scene was quickly closing in on itself. It felt as though the whole world had stopped and I’d stepped inside a black and white photograph. Nothing moved except the hands of the clock.

As soon as I turned round the headache hit me again. It was like being smacked by a blunt instrument. I knew the only reason I’d slept at all was because I’d taken a sleeping tablet.  Thank goodness I’d brought them. I’d grabbed them only as an after-thought, once my bags were packed and lined up by the front door. This was such a special opportunity and I didn’t want to be so overexcited that I didn’t get a wink of sleep. I’d never used the pills before. They were meant to be a last resort after I was mugged in September, but with the bang on my head yesterday, I don’t think I’d have had a decent night without them.

I put the heater on and huddled under the covers. I waited and waited; the heater clicked and rattled, but it felt like the temperature was still hovering around zero degrees.

My mind drifted back to the day Karen and I met. We didn’t share lectures or any of the same subjects. All we shared was a kitchen – known as B2 – with around twelve other students along the corridor. In fact, I didn’t even belong there; my designated kitchen was at the other end, but for some reason the reception I got in mine was standoffish, verging on hostile.

With nothing to lose, I’d tried my luck in B2.

‘I’ve not seen you before,’ said Karen, introducing herself with a show-stopping smile as she skimmed past with a tray of beers. ‘It’s all-comers here. Grab a seat. Fancy some noodles?’

I felt like a valued customer in an exclusive restaurant. Everyone was chatting, sharing jokes and even toasting marshmallows on that first visit. I found out that, in the evenings, students gathered with instruments to form an impromptu band, drawing in an audience from other floors in the block. While the concerts were underway, another group would put together a huge pile of food – spaghetti bolognese or risotto – and share it with anyone who turned up. Karen, I discovered, was the one who instigated this communal supper idea; her generosity was a revelation to me. She regularly handed round bottles of wine and pieces of cheesecake; she never seemed, like me, to buy any of those meals-for-one. I didn’t hesitate. I shifted over my tins and jars from one locker to another and made ‘B2’ kitchen my new home.

I’ve thanked fate a thousand times for that encounter. It was as though my life really began that day.

I blew on my hands and, gritting my teeth, planted my feet inside my furry slippers and pulled on my bathrobe. I glanced at my reflection in the speckled mirror on the wall and caught the frown on my face. I was still mystified that at such a poignant, delicate time, Karen had chosen me to be here.

At University, Karen had throngs of friends and they all seemed to have more in common with her than I ever had. She’d made a point of befriending me, but I wasn’t so naïve not to realise that there were plenty of others she was fond of. What about the friends she’d met since then, through her jobs or in Brixton? Why had she invited me?

Icicles had formed like dried glue on the inside of the window, but I didn’t marvel at them for long. A knock at the front door shook me and I stood still to listen. I heard Karen hurtle down the stairs to answer it, as if she was expecting someone.

‘Yay – they’re here!’ she squealed.

I ran out onto the landing.

‘Who’s here?’ I called, hurriedly tying the belt of my bathrobe, my mouth wide open.

‘The others…’

Others? Karen hadn’t mentioned any others…

There were whoops and screams at the front door. Karen’s arms were wrapped around a man’s neck, dislodging his backpack. She was jumping up and down, circling around the two of them like a puppy. I didn’t remember her face lighting up with such unbridled joy when I arrived on the doorstep.

‘Didn’t I say? You remember Jodie and Mark,’ she cried. I tried to raise a smile as I tentatively descended the stairs. I was crestfallen. I thought it was just going to be the three of us.

I stood still on the bottom step. I did know Jodie and Mark – we’d been at Leeds together for three years, but they’d always been Karen’s friends not mine.

‘Hi,’ I managed eventually, nodding in their direction.

Mark Leverton still looked about nineteen. He was tall and wiry like a bendy cartoon come to life. He’d created a stir with the female population at Uni – black shaggy hair, shifty eyes that made him appear inscrutable and out of reach. I’d never seen the attraction myself.

 ‘Hey – how’re you doing, Sugar?’ he said to me. I’d forgotten what he sounded like. I’d expected a squeaky voice to match his body, but it was deep and rumbling, like thunder was on the way. It all came back: the way he used to call me after anything sugary – as if he could never remember my name.

Mark had always been a ‘bad boy’; the dark, moody sort that girls seem to drool over. I remember asking Karen at the time why so many fell for blokes like him.

‘Because they’re exciting, I suppose,’ she’d told me. ‘You never know what they’re going to do next. They’re mysterious, intriguing. Women want to work out how they tick; they see dangerous men as a challenge.’

Mark invariably wore black back then; most of his t-shirts featured skull and crossbones or logos of indie bands he’d seen at Glastonbury. He’d been a talented drummer (his studies had suffered), and he’d lapped up the kudos of being in a band. Musicians were allowed to be glum, irritable and leave their dirty dishes about the place. I was pleased to see he’d ditched his trademark black eyeliner and his t-shirt was maroon, instead of black, and had an Armani label, with the logo of a US department store printed across the front. He still had three holes in one earlobe, sporting two studs and a silver scorpion.

Jodie Farringday had always been gorgeous; five foot ten, with thick frothy dark hair tied up into a ponytail and striking supermodel looks. Her legs were twice the length of mine and her typical facial expression was built around a plump pout; her lips enviably claret-red without the need for lipstick. She looked exactly as I remembered her – complete with kitten heels encrusted with snow – she hadn’t changed a bit.

I felt a pang of inadequacy. I wasn’t dressed and hadn’t even brushed my hair. I was acutely aware of the bruise that now resembled a plum stuck to the side of my forehead. I hadn’t had the chance to dab a blob of make-up over it.

‘We’ve had a staggeringly awful journey,’ Jodie moaned. ‘We got here so late last night, we had to stay in Fort William.’ She shrugged off her leather jacket in my direction. I caught it and hung it up. She did a double take as she saw the bruise on my temple. ‘Why did you choose this godforsaken place?’

Jodie had been that odd mix of super-confident on the outside and insecure on the inside. She’d been obsessed with fashion and self-grooming, always washing her hair and making appointments at the tanning centre. She never went anywhere without a glossy magazine and even in company, she used to plonk one on the table to browse through in coffee shops, the pub, restaurants.

Mark did a circuit of the sitting room and emerged looking forlorn. ‘There’s no bloody telly! How am I going to survive without Strictly...?’

‘He’s not joking,’ snorted Jodie.

Karen threw her eyes up in mock offence and took Jodie and Mark each by the hand. ‘I’m making you both a bacon butty,’ she declared, dragging them into the kitchen.

Karen turned to me as I lingered in the hall. ‘It’ll be fun, Alice. Come on – you’ll see.’

Keep up with the rest of the tour here.

Check out an extract from the first chapter of No Longer Safe on A.J. Waines' blog here.
Also check out this excerpt from Dark Place to Hide (along with a previous interview with A.J. Waines)

About the Author:

A.J. Waines has sold over 100,000 books worldwide and topped the UK and Australian Kindle Charts in 2015 with her number one bestseller, Girl on a Train. Following fifteen years as a psychotherapist, she is now a full-time novelist with publishing deals in France, Germany (Penguin Random House) and USA (audiobooks). 

In 2015, she was featured in The Wall Street Journal and The Times and was ranked in the Top 20 UK authors on Amazon KDP (Kindle Direct Publishing). She lives in Southampton, UK, with her husband. Visit her website and blog, or follow her on Twitter and Facebook.  

Takhayyal writing prompt no. 29

Welcome back Ladies and Gentlemen, Artists, Poets, Writers, Authors, Dreamers, Friends and Family; Welcome EVERYONE to Nadaness In Motion's bi-weekly picture-prompt writing challenge Takhayyal.

I found this picture a while back. I have no idea who made it or took it.

Author/photographer unknown. Picture found online. Not mine.

  

Arabic for Imagine, Takhayyal is a challenge for writers of all ages and genres; a place to spark creativity.

Your post can be in English or Arabic, prose, poetry, short story, flash fiction; you name it and write it.

General rules:

·        No nudity, violence, and/or abuse.

·        Leave the link to your post in comments below OR post your piece as REPLY to this post

·        Your piece MUST be inspired in some way or other by the above picture

·        Multiple entries allowed

·        It is not required but it is a nice and encouraging gesture to comment on others' pieces.

·        Feel free to add your Twitter handle (@....) so I can tag you in my tweets!

Let's IMAGINE!