Help Wanted: Accords Agency seeks new agents. Orphans preferred. #ExcerptWeek

March 28, 2016March 26, 2016 / barbtaub / 14 Comments

Is it wrong that shooting people is just so much easier than making decisions? Carey Parker’s to-do list is already long enough: find her brother and sister, rescue her roommate, save Null City, and castrate her ex-boyfriend. Preferably with a dull-edged garden tool. A rusty one.

She just has a few details to work out first. Her parents have been killed, her brother and sister targeted, and the newest leader of the angels trying to destroy Null City might be the one person she loves most in the world. So the one thing she knows for sure is that she needs to keep her day job as a Warden for the Seattle Office of the Accords Agency.

Working at Accords is much like any other job. First you get recruited—

Accords Academy Recruitment Notice

When you start, you’re given an Employee Handbook.

ACCORDS AGENCY EMPLOYEE HANDBOOK, fourth edition, revised July 20, 2010

Which comes with a welcome message:

Congratulations! You’ve completed our application process and written your letter to be delivered to your next of kin in the event of your death. Welcome to the Accords Agency.

And maybe a few revisions:

—Addendum to Welcome Message, ACCORDS AGENCY EMPLOYEE HANDBOOK, fourth edition, revised July 20, 2010

You start to get a feel for the corporate culture:

Handwritten note taped to cabinet in staff break room.

At the Accords Agency, they say success depends on having the right partner. But nobody told Carey Parker that her sexy new partner’s gift would let him predict deaths. Hers.

Now available for presale on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Kobo, ROUND TRIP FARE will be released on 7 April, 2016.

ROUND TRIP FARE by Barb Taub

Is it wrong that shooting people is just so much easier than making decisions? Carey wonders— and not for the first time. But the Agency claims this will be an easy one. A quick pickup of a missing teen and she won’t even have to shoot anybody. Probably.

Carey knows superpowers suck, her own included. From childhood she’s only had two options. She can take the Metro train to Null City and a normal life. After one day there, imps become baristas, and hellhounds become poodles. Demons settle down, join the PTA, and worry about their taxes. Or she can master the powers of her warrior gift and fight a war she can’t win, in a world where she never learned how to lose.

Genre:

Urban Fantasy (with romance, humor, a sentient train, and a great dog)

Contact/Buy Links:

Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Kobo

Facebook | Blog | Twitter: @barbtaub

#ExcerptWeek Preview: #Harbinger

March 25, 2016March 25, 2016 / Marcia Meara / 28 Comments

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The Black Dog – A Harbinger of Death

Starting Monday, we will be having another week of Excerpts, here on The Write Stuff. I’ll post separately on that shortly. Since I have no #FabulousFridayGuestBlogger this week, I’ve decided start early, by sharing an excerpt from my current WIP, Harbinger: Wake-Robin Ridge Book 3. This is from the rough draft, so be kind. 🙂

To set this up, we met Rabbit in Book 2, A Boy Named Rabbit. He and his adoptive father, MacKenzie Cole, have been asked by the sheriff to help with a 20-year old cold case file. Mac is a master of gathering intel of various sorts through his computer research firm, and Rabbit has skills far and above the average 11-year-old. Or anyone else, for that matter. His gift of The Sight, as they call it in the mountains, has come on strong, developing into a prodigious talent far surpassing that of his gran, who was also gifted.

Sheriff Raleigh Wardell, his grandson, Finn, Mac, and Rabbit have gone to visit the burned out cabin where the Birdwell family lived for years, until the disappearance of 8-year-old Sissy Birdwell tore their lives apart. It’s a place of sadness and pain that Rabbit can clearly feel, even before setting foot on the property. And on this occasion, in addition to the things he feels, he’s had a vision, as well. Enjoy!

~~~

Saturday Afternoon, March 8, 2014
North Carolina Mountains

MAC’S BREATH CAUGHT in his throat. “You saw her? You saw Sissy Birdwell?”

Rabbit nodded. “She were a sweet lookin’ little girl, Daddy.”

Raleigh pulled a small, spiral notepad and pen from his pocket, and stepped closer, his excitement giving off an almost physical thrum of energy. He’d launched into full Sheriff Mode, ready for all the details. “Well now, Rabbit. That’s something pretty special. Can you tell us what she looked like?”

The boy turned brimming eyes toward the sheriff. “Pretty,” he said, swallowing tears. “A real pretty little girl, with long black hair in them ropes down her back.” He looked at Mac. “What’s it called when hair’s like that, Daddy . . . pig’s tails?”

“Close enough,” Mac murmured, rubbing the goosebumps on his arms, as he watched Raleigh.

The sheriff stood frozen, pen poised above his notepad, and eyes wide. His mouth had dropped open in surprise. He closed it with a snap, cleared his throat, and nodded briskly. “Ah, yes . . . pigtails. Um . . . what else can you see?”

Rabbit was quiet another minute or two, gaze gone vacant, and his brow furrowed in concentration. When he looked up again, he shook his head. “She ain’t here, now,” he said.

The sheriff was busy scribbling notes on his pad, but he glanced up at that, crestfallen. “She’s gone? Where’d she go? Can you get her back?”

“Wish I could, but it ain’t ‘zactly like callin’ her up on Skype, an’ I ain’t figured out yet if there’s some way to make it work when I want it to. I’m real sorry, Sheriff Wardell, but I only saw her for a minute. Felt her longer than I saw her, though. Her thoughts was all kinda zippin’ this way an’ that, happy ‘bout some new puppies, an’ then sad, ‘cause there was some goodbyes comin’ up, somewhere. I seen some bits of colored ribbon tied around the end of them pig’s tails . . . I mean, pigtails . . . an’ then, she wasn’t here no more.”

Raleigh looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Rabbit. I understand you can’t turn this on and off when you want. I just got excited to know Sissy left traces behind you can feel and see. It’s amazing, really, and you did great.”

“I ‘member one more thing, Sheriff. She were wearin’ a silver band on one of her arms . . . an’ it had these little, bluish sorta stones in it. Don’t reckon that helps much, but—“

Raleigh made a choked sound. If he’d been surprised before, he looked completely stunned now. He stared first at Rabbit, and then at Mac. His mouth opened and closed twice, before he managed actual words. “My God, Mac. He really did see her.”

Mac raised an eyebrow. “Well, yes. I thought we’d established that from the pretty accurate description he gave us.”

Raleigh was almost stammering in excitement. “I hoped he had, of course, but . . . well . . . it was just possible . . . I mean, he might have been picking up that description from you or me. We’ve both seen her picture, after all.” He gave Rabbit an apologetic look. “Not that you would do that on purpose, Rabbit, but I just wasn’t sure at first where the image you saw was coming from. But now I know.”

“How?” Mac asked.

“The bracelet was a brand new birthday present, and she lost it the day before she disappeared. When I interviewed Sissy’s mother the first time, she was real upset that she’d scolded Sissy so harshly for losing it. She was just starting to realize that a lost bracelet was nothing, compared to a lost little girl.”

Mac’s brow furrowed in confusion. “And?”

Raleigh shook his head, eyes glowing in wonder. “And that bracelet was never mentioned in any of the reports of her disappearance. It was already gone, so it wasn’t a factor when describing the clothes she was wearing that day. Hell, I’d forgotten about it myself. There’s no way Rabbit could have picked that detail up from you or I.”

He turned his eyes back to Rabbit. “Oh, yeah,” he breathed. “Rabbit’s the Real Deal, all right. And I’m absolutely sure he’s made contact with Sissy Birdwell.”

~~~

Buy Books 1 and 2 of my Wake-Robin Ridge series here:

Wake-Robin Ridge

A Boy Named Rabbit

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#New at #TheWriteStuff

January 11, 2016 / Marcia Meara / 19 Comments

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I promised you guys some new ideas would becoming this month, and I’m finally ready to roll out a couple of them. Hope you’ll find them fun, and will participate wherever you can, especially by sharing with the Immediate World. 🙂

First, I’d like to bring back our #TWSWritingPrompt. I will try to post a prompt on the first (or very close to it) of each month, and you have the entire month to contribute something fun. It can be interpreted in any way you like, in any genre you enjoy. The point is just to have a fun writing exercise each month, with no restrictions on length or subject matter (other than the ones that always apply on this site–no religion or politics). As soon as I finish with this post, I’m going to put up the prompt for January, even though we’ve lost the first 11 days. I think most of you can still write a paragraph or two, if you’d like to participate, and I hope you will.

Secondly, it’s time to get going again with our #FabulousFridayGuestBlogger feature, so you folks who would like to be spotlighted this week, email me please at mmeara@cfl.rr.com and let me know. I’ll fill you in on the details. If this week’s spot is taken by the time I hear from you, we’ll pick another Friday. So give a holler! We’ll ask everyone to share your guest post, including your Buy Links, Bio, and Cover photos.

Third, I’m planning to start a new feature next week called #MondayMeme. Just what it sounds like. Memes, humorous or not, but mostly book, writing, or reading related. Just to get your week off to a good start.

#WodinsDaySmile is moving to Thor’s Day. Why? Because I like Thor better than Wodin. 😀 So starting in two days, keep an eye out for #ThorsDaySmile. This doesn’t mean you can’t share jokes, cartoons, memes or other fun things on other days. Just that I’ll be sharing one for sure on Thor’s Day.

On the other hand, Wednesday will now become My #MidWeekPOV. This is something I’ve wanted to do for a while, and it will be my chance to chat about things on my mind. Most will be book or reading related, though I can’t guarantee that all will. Hope you’ll enjoy my ramblings and will share them, as well.

I haven’t made up my mind about the remaining days of the week, yet. I thought maybe I’d try these things out, and see if I had the energy to throw in any more or not. 😉 And of course, we will continue to schedule regular #ExcerptWeek events, and anything else fun that comes to my mind.

Recapping:

(Weekly)
Monday: #MondayMeme
Wednesday: My #MidWeekPOV
Thursday: #ThorsDaySmile
Friday: #FabulousFridayGuestBlogger

(Monthly)
#TWSWritingPrompt

(Whenever)
#ExcerptWeek

So there you have at least the start of some new things. I hope you’ll enjoy taking part when you can, and sharing with others. Now stay tuned for this month’s writing prompt. And happy Moon’s Day night. Hope all is well in your part of the world.

#Excerpt week – USURPER’S LEGACY (The Prince’s Son) – Deborah Jay #Fantasy

January 7, 2016January 9, 2016 / Deborah Jay / Debby Lush / 27 Comments

USURPER’S LEGACY (The Prince’s Son)

A little longer than my usual excerpts, this is the prologue from my nearly complete (yay!) sequel to THE PRINCE’S MAN, and tells the climax of the first book from a very different viewpoint…

* * * * * * * *

Hungry flames invaded the garlands festooning the roof beams of the palace’s Great Hall. Tiny specks of gold darted in and out of the greenery, setting new fires wherever they touched; miniature dragons with flickering wings—salamanders.

Forbidden magic.

Another cluster of berries exploded, raining hot juices down upon the heads of the panicked crowd. Mykel Dench braced himself as a horde of finely-dressed nobles stampeded towards him. On the raised dais at the front of the hall he could see his master, Hensar, the pretender to the throne, grappling with the loyalist spy, Lady Risada Delgano vas Domn. The stench of burning greenery, the cacophony of screams and clatter of tumbling chairs all faded into insignificance for Mykel when Lady Risada slit Hensar’s throat.

Mykel shrieked his fury but his voice vanished into the crowd. Rage lent him strength and he ploughed into the oncoming mob, swinging the pommel of his sword like a club, not caring if he cracked a bone or three, or sliced the odd gobbet of flesh. He’d worked too hard for this moment; for the downfall of the royal family and their spymaster, Prince Halnashead.

His master might be dead, but Mykel would see Prince Halnashead dead too. And that bitch Risada. Continue reading →

#ExcerptWeek – #FindingHunter No. 1

January 7, 2016January 9, 2016 / Marcia Meara / 9 Comments

Final FH Cover Smaller

You guys with books to promote should really take advantage of #ExcerptWeek, you know. But as long as it’s this slow, I’m going to fill in with excerpts of my own, so be forewarned. This is the first scene of Chapter 2 in my latest book, Finding Hunter, which is Book 2 of the Riverbend series. Hunter Painter is a quirky, shy man, who carries a lot of secrets close to his heart. Some of them are tragic, and some pertain to how he feels about Willow Greene. Namely, that he’s loved her since high school, and never had the nerve to tell her, or anyone else, before confessing to his best friend. He has just hung up the phone and realizes he’s agreed to lunch at her house. Blind panic is all he feels. (And in this book, there is a poem at the start of each chapter that relates to the prologue, and hints at a mystery to come.) Enjoy!
*********

Before, I never thought about taking a life. Not once.
Now, the thought fills my mind day and night, and
I wonder how I’ll hide that terrible need,
As an old car swings to the shoulder,
And stops.
~ Traveling Man ~

~~~
Doomed
~~~

8:15PM Friday, December 28, 2012

“OH, MY GOD, Biscuit. What have I done?” Hunter Painter flung himself backward on his bed, and stared at the ceiling in shock. His dog immediately took this dramatic event as an excuse to leap onto the bed and begin administering first aid. This mostly consisted of lots of very warm, very wet licks to Hunter’s face.

“Stop, Bisk! If you’re staying up here, lie down and be still.”

The smooth-haired collie lowered himself, head on paws, concerned eyes watching every move Hunter made, in case more attention was needed. But it seemed the drama was over, except for some muttering and grumbling.

Hunter scratched his tan and white companion behind the ears as he replayed the phone conversation in his mind. He had only intended to test the waters, just wanting to see if he could handle a one-on-one conversation with Willow and not turn into a gibbering idiot. Like a moon-drunk fool, he had confessed to Gunnar Wolfe that he had been in love with Willow since the eleventh grade, and Gunn had urged him to call her. After a week of long, hard thought—and fortified by three cold beers—he had decided he would.

Of course, he had only meant to thank her for inviting him and his brothers to Gunn’s wedding. Just that. “Hi, great party, thanks, goodbye.”

He figured that would be enough for a start. When had he lost control?

“Soon as she said hello, that’s when,” he muttered. “Never, ever thought she’d ask me over. How in God’s name will I handle that? Can’t be in the same room with her, even in a crowd, without breaking out in a cold sweat. Don’t know if I can do this, Biscuit. Can’t just waltz into her home, tour her garden, and have lunch with her, like we’ve been hanging out together for years. She screws up my brain, you know. Years and years gone by, and still—one smile from her and everything in my head short-circuits.” Continue reading →

#ExcerptWeek – Imprisoning a Dual Discord by Louise Findlay

January 6, 2016January 6, 2016 / Marcia Meara / 8 Comments

Book Cover

Imprisoning a Dual Discord
Description

The world is in musical order. To maintain balance, a team of Government Agents, named Harmony, track down, experiment on and sometimes kill those who express the music of dissonance. Those like Psycha, a duel Discord of Vyla and Sios; a prime lab rat to Harmony. Being able to disrupt harmony by voice and hands alone makes Psycha far more dangerous than the usual Discord. Will she run into trouble trying to protect her boyfriend, Caleb? Will her desire to destroy Harmony prove fatal for her? What will be left of her if she ever gets captured?

Excerpt
Psycha

What had Caleb gotten himself into this time? We were discords for music’s sake. We couldn’t strike back against Harmony if we ran, and be damned if he got caught. He was a Tara Discord not a Vyla like me. He was more vulnerable and I knew for a fact he left his Tara back at camp. Careless. That was so unlike him. He was usually methodical and paranoid. He couldn’t afford to throw his life away on a whim. I was the reckless one.

I hummed a tune to try and find his wavelength. Discords stuck out like a sore thumb, and he was a Tara. He was invisible without it, but I knew his musical signature like the back of my hand. I was almost certain I could pick something up, and I did. The three note discordant hum that was uniquely Caleb was faintly ringing in the air. I rushed to try and catch up to him. There was no way he would get captured on my watch. Cinder would kill me. Continue reading →

#ExcerptWeek – #WakeRobinRidge No 2

January 5, 2016January 5, 2016 / Marcia Meara / 2 Comments

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I promised a couple more today, and I always try to keep my promises. 🙂 This is a continuation of the scene I posted earlier, another page or so along. Ruth worked up all her courage, and crept downstairs, shotgun in hand, hoping she can defend herself against her ex by finding him before he finds her. Enjoy. Or not. 😉

****
Stepping down onto the living room floor, Ruth scanned the room. She was alone, unless he was hiding in the pantry. Possible, but it didn’t feel right. She was sure she would have heard him moving around inside, opening or closing the pantry door. As she stood peering into every corner, a faint noise wormed its way into her awareness—a soft thumping near her kitchen window.

Whirling to her left, she aimed her shotgun at the window, then froze, her brain slow to comprehend what she was seeing. A shape hanging outside the window jerked feebly in the moonlight. A cat? No, a rabbit. A rabbit spun slowly on a length of twine, hind feet scratching faintly against the glass, leaving black, clotted smears sliding down the pane.

Nausea rolled through her as the full horror of what she was looking at registered. The bastard had slit its belly open and hung it up to bleed out against her window. In a silent agony of black and gray, the rabbit swung back and forth under the silver moon. Her breath caught on a sob, and all hope fled. She knew without a doubt—could see in her mind’s eye—that Lloyd was going to gut her just like that rabbit.

This is it. He’s gonna to kill me tonight. Oh, God, he’s gonna to cut me open and kill me.

*****
Wake-Robin Ridge

#ExcerptWeek – #WakeRobinRidge No. 1

January 5, 2016 / Marcia Meara / 7 Comments

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If no one else decides to play this week, that’s okay. You’ll just get a whole lotta ME. Hahaha. Today, I’m going to dole out a few short bits and pieces from my first book, Wake-Robin Ridge. I feel I’ve learned an awful lot about writing since I published this one two and a half years ago, but it formed the beginning of what is becoming a fun series, and I still get lots of emails from folks who enjoyed it. Here’s a pivotal scene from Ruth’s story, which takes place nearly 50 years before Sarah Gray moves into the cabin, and begins to uncover the shocking events from the 1960’s. Enjoy!
*******

RUTH CRIED OUT in her sleep, thrashing in a sweaty tangle of bedding. She was dreaming of fists and boots and terrible pain. Over and over a singsong voice called, “Ruuthiee … Ruuuthieeee … “

Her eyes flew open and she lay gasping in terror, waiting for the echoes of Lloyd’s voice to fade. It was only 2:00 A.M., but she knew falling asleep again would be impossible. After a moment, she sat up, and reached for her robe. As she pulled it on, she saw that Penny had crawled out from under the quilt and was standing in the center of the bed. His body was rigid, and he was shaking all over as he stared at the window. He whimpered in anxiety, and just like that, Ruth knew it was all over.

Lloyd had found her.

Wake-Robin Ridge