From the Mind of Master Imaginationist Crystal Connor ~"A Trusted Name in Terror."

The Darkness, Artificial Light, In The Valley of Shadows

Wednesday, April 23, 2014

In honor of Octavia Bulter & L.A. Banks tour presents...

Kai Leakes!
Author Bio:
From Iowa, but later relocating to Alton, IL and St. Louis, MO, Kai Leakes was a multifaceted Midwestern child, who gained an addiction to books at an early age. Sharing stories with her cousins as a teen, writing books didn’t seem like something she would pursue until one day in college. Storytelling continues to be a major part of her very DNA, with the goal of sharing tales that entertain and add color to a gray literary world.
In her spare time, she likes to cook, dabble in photography, and assists with an internet/social networking group online. Loving to feed her book addiction, romance, fantasy and fiction novels are her world. Reading those particular genres help guide her as she finds the time to write and study for school.
Kai is the author of Sineaters: Devotion book one and the soon-to-be-released Sin Eaters: Retribution: Devotion book two, coming in June.
 You can find her at her website: kwhp5f.wix.com/kai-leakes.

“The Light Will Always Prevail, but when the Light and Dark are at war, sometimes the Grey can only be your salvation.” ~ Kai Leakes



Sin Eaters: Devotion Book One Synopsis:
Khamun Cross was born to do one thing and that was to watch Sanna Steele, a woman so unique and special he would risk his all to have her. So what, that in his job of watching her, he happens to prowl the streets, hunting the very things that go bump in the night. Even monsters or everyday looking people that steal humans' souls become Khamun's victims, and he brings with him a power, a vampirism, that would send one straight to the dark.

Khamun craves the darkness in his victims as if it were his own personal dinner, but not as much as he craves the very woman he has been ordained to watch over as her Guardian Angel. Sanna Steele is just your average twenty-seven year old, with your everyday hopes, dreams and insecurities. She is clueless about the war that is secretly raging around her in the streets of St. Louis. A war she will soon become a part of. But what is so special about Sanna that the very things that go bump in the night, seeks to snatch her from her very existence in life?

Get your copy of Kai Leakes Sin Eaters: Devotion Book One now at Amazon! http://goo.gl/xrSEkn
Also buy SE at Barnes and Noble: http://goo.gl/K9OvLg


Sin Eaters 2: Retribution (Devotion Book Two) Synopsis:

Darkness is swallowing the streets of Chicago, and a key may have been found.  Khamun and Sanna's epic journey together has led them to this, their mission to save Nephilim Society from themselves. Still trying to open the secrets of the first book, Khamun and Sanna's fight has resulted in a travesty that may change their lives. Now with Khamun at the cusp of a life and death decision, it's up to his team to close ranks and protect their Oracle.
Calvin Freeman is surrounded by death. Not only has his cousin fallen in battle, but he's now being stalked by ghosts from his past lives and a familiar lethal foe, The Medusa. What is deathly has become alluring, and what is toxic has become bittersweet. His dreams are betraying him, and war is coming as society turns a blind eye. It's up to him and his family to bring their retribution, and it's up to him to find out why the woman known for bringing nightmares has suddenly knocked at his door.

Take a final walk in the chilling world of Kai Leakes in Sin Eaters 2: Retribution Devotion Book II
And if you're already #Teamsineaters keep a look out for the action pact continuation coming soon June 24, 2014.
Sin Eaters 2: Retribution Pre-order now on Amazon! http://goo.gl/YtqkOu
Or Pre-order SE2 at BN: 
http://goo.gl/MEKt6H

Sin Eaters – Devotion Book One Excerpt:

Today…

Metallic, sweet and mind intense flavor filled the air.  The quiet that floated around made the hairs on passerby’s in the night to stand up as if the already chill filled wind wasn’t enough to have them shivering.  Rich, black ebon swallowed the alleyway keeping the individuals who occupied it secured and sequestered away from all who dared peek down the tight tunnel.  Water idly sliding down the asphalted street, mixed with oil and idle trash skating against the cracked surface, cushioned midnight colored Timberland’s as the flash of twinkling light cascaded in a flash like a pulse near the booted body.

Inhaling even shallow breaths, the individual listened as all sound seemed to be absorbed away as if in a tornado.  This silence triggered the timed attack, which had the anticipation in the individual’s body expand with power, velocity, speed and well checked strength.

If one was to be one of the many idle flies which hovered in the nearby dumpster, they would be amazed at the sight of the super human individual running in an almost flying position and landing on the second hulking form in the alley.
The rise of a scent that had cats meowing and arched in defense on the railings of a window and under a parked car filled the air again as the crisp white flash of light slashed in the night air, landing against the second balked individual as the attacker hissed.

In a fraction of a blink, claws the size of an oversized lion slashed in the air as tentacles dipped out near the blind spot of the attacker, making the being jump in the air. Bringing down a flashing light of metal unto the second balked former human looking being but now entity of horrendous looks, the precise slash against the entities flesh caused the now familiar smell to fill the air once more.

The attacker crouched low in a resting battle position, taking in shallow calm breaths as the thing turn to attack again, running full speed.  Its Italian leather wing tipped shoes creating a rhythm of tapping song on the alleyway floor, causing the attacker to hum, throwing the entity off its thoughts.
Light sheen of perspiration kissed the attacker’s forehead with each calm inhale.  The attacker lived for this, loved it and desired the hunt of creatures such as this.

Strategizing the next move, the attacker thought back to how this prey was hunted.  A quiet smile flashed across the attackers lips.  It wasn’t hard to get to the sick bastard, the attacker posed as the entities preferred targets, an angry teenager, who wanted nothing but to get away from their parent.  It made the attacker clutch the blade that nestled comfortably against his palm, in anger at the obscene and pornographic discussions that would occur with the demon.
It made it even easier to identify that this monster wasn’t the shrewd Italian entrepreneur he portrayed to be, but was in fact a succubae level soul polluter demon.  These breed of evil were the most degenerate of demons, they enjoyed feasting off the pain of the victims through lewd sexual means, physical decapitating torture and flesh eating.
Knowing this,it silently pleased the attacker to stalk and mentally threaten the demon’s territory by baiting it, since these demons were known for their territorial nature.

Allowing the demon to believe they were to meet up outside of a popular artist’s concert, the attacker led the demon to the alleyway through simple mind manipulation and the rest is history.  Shuddering with a lethal dose of pleasure and battle tactics, the attacker’s body tightened with the wait as the breeze in the alley lightly brushed against skin.
Side stepping within the low crouch, the attacker pivoted and flipped forward with the lithe agility of a panther producing a silver gun.  Suddenly as if time stopped, bullets exploded in the air as the glimmering and glowing objects penetrated the thrown back body of the beast, causing it to howl in pain.

The attacker ran full speed, watching the bullets hit each expertly calculated point on the beast’s body.  Landing a blow to the entities ribcage; the muscles in the attacker’s bicep tightening with the impact of breaking bones and tearing flesh.
Seething in anger, contempt, disbelief and hate, the monster attempted to slash at the attacker with its claws, its teeth dripping with a mixture of its own blood and a liquid miasma.  The beast successfully slammed the attacker into the side of a building, breaking bricks and creating a crater in the wall, rushing like a bull to launch another attack of teeth and claws.  Pivoting out of the way with a deep guttural grunt, the attacker let another round of bullets to release and absorb into the slashing and bleeding beast, watching him fall.

 High pitched human screams burst from the beast as it lay on the cold glistening wet pavement, its twisted and contorted body writhing as the attacker casually walked over it kneeling down and grabbing it by its neck.

Watching slowly as the entity howled, hissing and fighting back, its eyes begged to be left alone as its tentacles and claws melted away into a very human hand.  As the once beastly thing revealed itself during its cries, a disheveled looking handsome muscular man, dressed in an Italian designed straight from the runway suit, coughed up spewing blood and wheezed in agony.  The clawing man, murmured in unintelligible sentences, his sun kissed olive skin, slowly fading into a murky grey.

Wrinkles of decay and diseases, emitting from his once handsome frame, seemed to slosh away with every scream of pain and anger.  Flowing oak colored hair, drifted away as if it was dust in the wind. The man reached out attempting to tear at the attacker’s throat as flashes of the demon’s past life of darkness flowed into his vision through the eyes and briefly flashed smile of the attacker’s photogenic face.

Hunching over in a swift movement that would rival and shame a snake, if a snake could be shamed, the attacker hissed, claw palmed the man in the chest clutching at his engorged heart to pull it to its surface, beating against rapidly thinning skin, as the man screamed in garbled terror.

 “Ashes to ashes…”, was whispered in the air as the attacker pulled the heart from the man’s cavity and ferociously bit into the side of the screaming man’s neck tearing and cavernously biting until the attacker’s mouth seemed to fuse with the writhing man’s jugular, as rivers of blood fluidly glided everywhere.

-Sin Eaters by Kai Leakes ©copyright 2012-
Sin Eaters 2 - Retribution (Book Two) Excerpt:
Prelude
The past . . .
“Where are you going to go, boy? You’re surrounded!” Like hell, woulda ever let ya take me down, boss, rushed into his mind as he ran. More like sprinted through the thick, grasping trees that surrounded him. Rigged branches reached out to him as if they had a mind of their own. Their thick almost-black rooted stems twisted in their uprooting from the bowels of the earth to make him trip, but he was smarter than the trees. He leaped and veered out of their menacing way and his arms jolted outward to part through bushes.

With all of the trees that surrounded him, he would not have believed that he was back in Harlem, had he known any better; but for those who don’t know it by that name, New York was where he was. The bustling city lights covered the sky like fireflies splashed across the sky’s black canvas. The noisy zipping of various buckets and hacks driving carelessly pass tourists and city folk gave him a sense of how close he exactly was to civilization. It also gave him a sense of purpose.

Twigs snapped suddenly and the rustling of leaves tussling against each other let him know they were still hot on his trail. His mind was racing as he looked for an out. All of this was too familiar to him. Beady red eyes flickered at him in the darkness of the wilderness—no, of the park. He was in Central Park. He should have realized that. Those piercing eyes stared at him in delight, ready to seize the opportunity to hogtie him so that he could be their little plaything but he would not give them that satisfaction. Not yet.

Beads of midnight dew kissed his face the moment he stepped through the thicket. His wingtip shoes abruptly skidded as they made contact with wet, slick grass. He jumped. Then he lifted in the air, almost floating for a mere second. Both of his large feet clacked against pebbled stone the moment they met the ground.

He could hear the enemy. He could feel them breathing against the back of his neck. Each hair on his body stood in salute, coming alive in electric awareness. In this life at least, he knew he could die on his terms and die giving them a fight. In seven minutes, his time would be up soon anyway, so what could he really do about not being bumped off?

Seven . . .

A whizzing sound sizzled past his ear and he felt the hot trickle of blood mixing with his sweat and the quick pop of the gun after the fact. They wanted to play dirty. They wanted to make him appear to be a patsy and a hood. He had to laugh; he was better than a hood. Sure, at one time, he had to fill that slot but now he was his own man, a bruno to a well-known trouble boy who protected the meek of Harlem. They worked together with his gang to find those who were kidnapped or were bumping gums to the wrong people. They worked to regain money lost in predatory loans and schemes and wrongful repositions. They worked to build up their people and to protect all who walked the streets of Harlem from the highbinders that made it their mission to tear down the community. But these men who were after him, the very scum and thugs themselves, were no normal men.

Corrupted monsters in the flesh of coppers more like it. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to go out between the gams of a looker for a change.

Six . . .

The menacing snarl of dogs in the distance made him grimly chuckle before closing his eyes with the feel of his body vibrating with his gift. His gift allowed him to use the sound waves around him to channel it into music. With a slight part of his lips, he let out a low hum. Whistling he changed the pitched and dropped into a low crouch. Both hands extended outward and he observed his skin lighting up in swirling patterns against its burnished surface. That was his clue to project that vibrating power out in waves toward the hunting dogs. A change in his vision instantly allowed him to see through their glittering eyes. He then knew where to run next. With a quick shift of the pitch of his song, he caused the dogs to halt their barks, whimper, and then stopped in their tracks to turn. Attack, was his simple mental command and he watched the dogs attack their owners before sprinting away in retreat.

His sweat dripped down his face like rain on the ground before him. His ragged breath came out in sharp bursts and he pushed up to start his run again. They wouldn’t get what he had been given a vision to find. That he was sure he had hidden well; he had taken something priceless, something rare, and something they wanted destroyed but couldn’t. Something they had to hide from his people because he had learned it could kill the leader of their kind.

Five . . .
(Find out what the countdown is about when Sin Eaters 2: Retribution drops June 24th 2014)

Additional places to follow Kai Leakes:

FB – https://www.facebook.com/kaileakesbooks
Twitter – https://twitter.com/KaiLeakes
Tumblr – http://kaileakes.tumblr.com/

Sin Eaters Devotion Book One is out now! Sin Eaters 2: Devotion Book Two will be released June 24, 2014! Contest also coming soon!















Monday, April 21, 2014

Two! For the price of one….Butler/Banks Blog Tour

You’re not going to believe what I have in store for you today author's D.K. Gaston AND Carole McDonnell! 
I know right! So let's get right into it.

Who is D K Gaston?
Darin is the author of more than a dozen books ranging from Speculative Fiction to Crime novels. His first book was published in 2007. After serving five years in the military, he began college, earning a degree in Computer Science. Since earning his degree he’s gone on to earn two Masters degree in Technology Management and Business Administration. His experience in the military and computer sciences has shaped many of his stories and characters over the years. He also writes under the name Keith Gaston.
Taurus Moon
Gaston's most recent speculative fiction novel is Taurus Moon: Magic & Mayhem, which is the follow-up to Taurus Moon: Relic Hunter. Taurus makes his living by searching for supernatural artifacts for anyone willing to pay his price. These two novels are among my favorite because it allows me to express my humor as much as the fast-paced actions throughout the books.

Book Description
Taurus Moon: Magic & Mayhem is a fast-paced action and fantasy novel, sprinkled with humor. After saving the lives of a family about to be slaughtered by Lycans, Taurus and Gully are pulled into a realm where magic is supreme and technology is nonexistent. They must travel through harsh lands to find their way home.

The uneasy alliance between an evil sorceress queen, Morgana le Fay, and Grimes, a Lycan king, is threatened because of the relic hunter’s and mage’s presence. Taurus and Gully will have to use every trick they’ve every learned to survive the looming battle, but will it be enough?

Author Cerece Rennie Murphy, author of Order of The Seers read Taurus Moon and loved it! Check out her review of Taurus Moon she did for Black Speculative Fiction month…

Taurus Moon Relic Hunter is available in the following formats:  Ebook, paperback, & audio
Taurus Moon Magic Mayhem is available in the following formats: Ebooks, paperback

Visit his blog at http://dkgaston.blogspot.com/


Today's headliner in the Butler Banks Tour is  Carole McDonnell!

Carole McDonnell is  a novelist, a writer of fiction, devotionals, poetry, reviews, and essays and my works have appeared in many publishing venues, in print and online. I live in New York with my husband, two sons, cat Freddie and my dog, Hemotep.

“I've written for as long as I can remember. My Jamaican family was always telling stories and mother had memorized the opening chapters from several books, such as Ivanhoe, A Tale of Two Cities, etc. I was especially good at adapting. Somehow I felt the stories I had inherited from the European tradition (stuff we learned in school or watched on TV) always needed to be tweaked to include (subtly) matters that were important to a little Jamaican girl growing up in a Jewish-neighborhood in Brooklyn. I remember the day I decided I was a writer. It was the day a classmate grasped a poem I had written from my desk and brought it to the teacher who proclaimed the poem "great." I was hooked.” 

She studied Literature in college, not creative writing. Because she wanted to write great literature that would be ageless. McDonnell  still hopes her stories will be timeless. Her reviews appear in print and at various online sites. My first novel, Wind Follower was published by Juno Books in September 2007.

The book we're highlighting today is Wind Follower

A fourth tribe has come to the land of the three tribes — and the light-skinned newcomers are fated to change the tribes' way of life and religion. Satha, a dark-skinned woman from a poor Theseni clan, and Loic, her wealthy young Doreni husband, are too busy forging their new life together to pay much heed. But when Satha is dishonored and Loic must avenge her, they find themselves drawn into a cultural battle.

Kidnapped and enslaved, Satha strives to retain her autonomy. Loic struggles against Arkhai, spirits who fear his quest will lead him to the true god whose place they have usurped. With the Creator's aid, there remains hope the two will be reunited and find their mutual destiny — even if it means losing the love and respect of their comrades, families, clans, and tribes...

The Wordsmith: You call WIND FOLLOWER a Christian fantasy, was it difficult to find a home for WIND FOLLOWER?

McDonnell: The Christian publishing world is pretty rigid and I knew Wind Follower wouldn't fall easily into their world. I wanted to deal with sexuality, racial issues, interracial-intercultural romances, imperialism, and "pagan" cultures. And I knew they wouldn't want to touch any of those things because the CBA publishers didn't consider those issues "safe" for their audience. I got rejected by CBA gatekeepers with interesting lines like: "I like this book but I would be fired if I published it." Or "It was going along well but then you delved into certain areas..." Or "this is the best speculative christian book I have ever read but our readers would not like it."

On the other hand, I wanted the book to be Biblical in some places and I figured that would be a problem with secular publishers. It turned out not to be. Juno really doesn't publish Christian fantasy but my friend, Nick Woods, a white South African writer, says I "walk the borderlands." And that is true. I'm black and I can easily talk to white folks about race. I'm Christian and I have close friends who are non-religious or who belong to many different religions. I'm staunchly myself, yet I seem to have a kind of ambassadorial quality and ease with talking to folks who would not like any of my "labels." Black, Christian, whatever. In a conversation with a white gay writer friend the topic came up in which we wondered who our audiences would be. She figured her readers would probably be straight. Well, I tend to think my primary audience will be non-Christians. I'll have black readers and Christian fans, of course. So it wasn't hard for Juno to accept me. I'm not preachy, and the story's world is like any other fantasy world...except it comes from a Black American pentecostal worldview. But my readers will probably be pretty much anyone who likes speculative fiction.
 

Carole McDonnell reading the prologue for Wind Follower


But wait…there's more! 


This is How You Make a World
by Carole McDonnell

To the left was a small planet, gray, apparently lifeless, about one eighth the size of the destroyed, forsaken earth. To the right, about three million kilometers from Searcher 871, was a large planet, green, blue and gold, reminiscent of the old earth — but eight time its size— populated by humans with various stages of civilization development.  The Searcher had stopped in between both planets, equidistant from both. Inside, its aging inhabitant debated the pros and cons of the terraforming the smaller planet or sending their children into the populated world.

Terraforming would take six months. Not long, considering the ship’s inhabitants had been in space for eight years, since the blighted earth had died.

But the artificially created air, food, light, was already taking its toll on the children. The damaged children, children born with limited mental and emotional and physical abilities because of the tainted foods, pharmas, and air of the old earth. Their parents too were fading, on their last legs — as the old earth maxim went.

But the other planet, the one that shone like a big aqua marble in the dark sky presented other problems. True, its inhabitants had their share of petty wars. But, as far as the aged navigators could tell, chances of atomic bombs and other damages wrought by science were not little. The planet was large, resources varied and many, and tribes — who were as varied as those in the craft— were scattered across the planet. The travelers of Searcher 871 could place their damaged children in a small wood — a natural Eden, if possible— and the children and their future descendants would not be found for hundreds of years to come.  But there were fears and questions, especially among the darker-skinned inhabitants of the craft, about conquest and racial discrimination. The humanoid inhabitants of the planet had features the earthers did not have, and vice versa.

Both planets were the first they had encountered that could take on human life, their shared sun life-giving and rare for human life.

“I choose to terraform the asteroid,” Lily, the African-American woman navigator said.

“Why put our children in a world that will challenge them? We have the skill to make the asteroid suitable for them and their needs.”

“A whole year?” Denny, the Irish Captain replied. “Can they survive? Can any of us survive that long? And if we terra-form, won’t we be using up our resources even more? Our ability to recycle the air, the food, will be taxed.”

There were eighteen adults of all races, of pleasant enough dispositions. They knew how to accommodate themselves to others and to the world. Before the earth died, most parents — those who were actually fertile— had children who were “damaged” and labeled as mentally “limited” or “developmentally slow.” Yet, these children were viewed as a blessing because children themselves were so rare. The year the earth died, ten thousand ships had departed the earth, each with about five hundred crew members. Over the years, most of the crew of 871 had died, or gone stir crazy and suicidal (another American earth phrase.)  It had been difficult to explain the deaths to the children — who were both young and “limited.” But the crew had managed, telling the children that the dead crew members had really gone to worlds along the way. The children — if they missed the dead at all— believed the crew’s protective lies. But now, as the remaining elders looked at each other’s wrinkled faces and at the faces of their children, they knew their limits. Death would come soon. Puberty would appear.

Lily often wondered if puberty would be natural. Would the children “know” what to do? Would “nature” take its course? Some of the children were astute enough to understand many things. They would share their knowledge no doubt. Others could barely feed themselves. But these are the last of Earth humanoids, Lily thought. Unless some others have survived,  we are all that’s left. And even if others have survived, aren’t their children as wounded and “limited” as ours?

As the old travelers looked on their children, they could only come to the decision that terraforming might take a year, but their children would not survive in a world that was not specifically meant for them. Terraforming it had to be. The year went by. No longer did they see the stars passing past them (or vice versa.) No longer did they use the great craft’s power to move forward. All its energies were used to create a perfect land for their children. During that year, five of the eighteen parents died. But their children lived and were taken care of by the others. And each day, the planet took on its form.

A great dome was built around the planet — the laser technology creating a new atmosphere. The ice at the poles farthest from the sun were melted and pushed toward the equator where lakes —not deeper than a man’s foot, not wider than a mile—were built. The seeds of non-genetically-modified non-poisonous plants, the frozen larvae of insects and embryos of animals that would bow to humans were planted in green forests, cold artic poles, and deserts.

At last, the day came when the parents landed their craft on the new world. Some eighty children exited the craft. Lame, halt, mute, mentally limited — a joyous kind new breed of humans, incapable of hatred or pettiness. It was not known if the damage to their bodies and minds was mutagenic. Nor was Lily sure how long she and the old ones would live in that world. The children sat on the grass in front of her — their minds not really focused on the sex video she was showing them. But how could they focus? They had never seen a lake before, or little bunny rabbits, or sheep or bees before.

But Lily stood there and pointed to the dolls, then at the sex video. “This,” she said, hoping some would understand and would teach the others, “This is how you make a world.”


From there you can find her novels:








Saturday, April 19, 2014

The State of Black Science Fiction Presents: The Butler Banks Book Tour. A week in review

The State of Black Science Fiction Presents: The Butler Banks Book Tour!

In honor of Octavia Butler and L.A. Banks, two giants in the world of Science Fiction, Fantasy and Horror and, indeed, the entire world of literature, we are launching the Butler / Banks Book Tour.

What is it you ask? I'll tell you, but 1st an important Public Service Announcement from our friends at 
You will now be returned to your regular scheduled programming... 

The tour is 30 days of Speculative Fiction (Science Fiction, Fantasy and Horror / Paranormal) written by and about Black people.

Each day, a different author will take the stage and bring us into their world – or worlds – through exciting book excerpts, reviews of their books, cool book trailers, audio recordings of a chapter or two and anything else fun and exciting the featured authors would like to share! 

If you missed the phenomenal line-up from week one…fret not, here are all the links ;p


Day Two: Alan D. Jones
Day Three: The man who started all Sir Balogun



Friday, April 18, 2014

In Honor of Octavia E. Butler and L.A. Banks: Day 5



Valjeanne Jeffers is a graduate of Spelman College and a member of The Carolina African American Writers’ Collective. She was also a contributing author at the Octavia Butler Arts and Activism Celebration at Spelman College 2014.

She is the author of the SF/fantasy novels: Immortal, Immortal II: The Time of Legend, Immortal III: Stealer of Souls, and the steamfunk novels: Immortal IV: Collision of Worlds and The Switch II: Clockwork (includes books 1 and 2); and the nonfiction volume: The Story of Eve. An inteveiw with Valjeanne also appears in 60 Years of Black Women in Horror Fiction. She was a semi-finalist for the Rita Dove Poetry Award and The Switch (book I) was nominated for best eBook novella by the EFestival of Words.

Valjeanne’s poetry has been published in The Ringing Ear: Black Poets Lean South, Drumvoices Revue, Revelry and Pembroke Magazine. Her fiction has appeared in Steamfunk!, Genesis: An Anthology of Black Science Fiction Volumes I and II, Griots: A Sword and Soul Anthology, LuneWing, PurpleMag, Genesis Science Fiction Magazine, Pembroke Magazine, Possibilities, 31 Days of Steamy Mocha, and Griots II: Sisters of the Spear. An excerpt from The Story of Eve was also published in PurpleMag. She is also co-owner of Q and V Affordable editing.

Her two latest novels: Mona Livelong: Paranormal Detective and Colony: Ascension will be released later this year. Preview or purchase her novels at: http://www.vjeffersandqveal.com
 Contact Q & V Affordable Editing at:http://qandvaffordableediting.blogspot.com/

Valjeanne blogs regularly at: http://valjeanne.wordpress.com

She has a podcast as “Crystal Temptress” (with her co-host Quinton Veal as “Loyal Fang”)http://www.blogtalkradio.com/vjeffersandqveal

Click here to read an excerpt from her third novel! 



Thursday, April 17, 2014

The End is Near!


Things you never see black people doing in horror movies, thing # 9:
Get stranded hiking up Mt. Fuji.
Speaking of mountains…
An entire year ago, I agreed to co-write a book with paranormal-romance author Lori Titus under the penname of Connor Titus. About a 3rd of the way into the project, we were going to be writing two books.

The story that unfolded takes place in the foothills of Mt. Empyreal, and for the residents living in the town of Fates Keep…no quarter was giving

The Forward written by Jaime A. Geraldi, for RT Book Review Magazine :
“One catastrophe.  One Town. One story told two different ways … What started in the foothills of Mt. Empyreal could be the end of all of us.”

The dynamic duo known as Connor Titus have merged together to create a story that will chill you to the bone. Each adds a dark and distinctive quality to this compelling read and it's almost impossible to favor one over the other as the ink bleeds upon the page for everyone to witness.

Connor's interpretation is fierce and grabs readers by the throat as they gasp for breath once Old Man Winter strolls in and they're left powerless. She allows you to visualize the characters movements and endure their emotions without flaw. The highly descriptive settings throughout will make one feel as if they're part of the story which makes her rendition realistic and absolutely terrifying.

Titus' version captivates one by taking hold of their mind first before they even know what hit them. Then the emotional setback follows. Her gifted storytelling ability will have you thinking you're reading just a novel, but your brain may tell you something different as you actually may experience bouts of terror or feel perspiration at your brow.

Each author singularly has the ability to lure you into the book quickly, but as a pair it may feel as if they'll never let you leave.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Mt. Empyreal.”




The Fresh Fest of Afrofuturism: Day 4.


In honor of Octavia E. Butler and L.A. Banks the author of the day yesterday is the person responsible for the stellar line up of this showcase of black authors that I have been introducing for the last couple of days and I’m just getting started! For those of you who are just checking in The State of Black Science Fiction Presents: The Butler Banks Book Tour is meant to honor these two powerhouses in black speculative Science Fiction, Fantasy and Horror and, indeed, the entire world of literature.
They sowed the seeds which we are now reaping  and the author of the day, like the one yesterday is doing more than his share of crop-tending. As a writer I sometimes pick up a book for the enjoyment of being entertained, then all of a sudden I realize I am being … taught. 
The author showcased today is:  
Milton Davis is owner of MVmedia, LLC , a micro publishing company specializing in Science Fiction, Fantasy and Sword and Soul. MVmedia’s mission is to provide speculative fiction books that represent people of color in a positive manner. Milton is the author of eight novels; his most recent The Woman of the Woods and Amber and the Hidden City. He is co-editor of four anthologies; Griots: A Sword and Soul Anthology and Griot: Sisters of the Spear, with Charles R. Saunders; The Ki Khanga Anthology with Balogun Ojetade and the Steamfunk! Anthology, also with Balogun Ojetade.  MVmedia has also published Once Upon A Time in Afrika by BalogunOjetade.
          Milton resides in Metro Atlanta with his wife Vickie and his children Brandon and Alana.


Amber synopsis:
          Thirteen year old Amber Robinson's life is full of changes. Her parents are sending her to a private school away from her friends, and high school looms before her. But little does she know that her biggest change awaits in a mysterious city hidden from the world for a thousand years. Why? Amber's grandmother is a princess from this magical kingdom of Marai. She's been summoned home to use her special abilities to select the new king but she no longer has the gift, and her daughter was never trained for the task. That leaves only one person with the ability to save the city: Amber! But there are those who are determined that Amber never reaches Marai and they will do anything to stop her. Prepare yourself for an exciting adventure that spans from the Atlanta suburbs to the grasslands of Mali. It's a story of a girl who discovers her hidden abilities and heritage in a way that surprises and entertains.

Amber excerpt:
Aisha kicked the garbage can across the alley and screamed. She struck out with her fists, imagining Bissau’s face as the target for her frustration. A sound distracted her; she turned to see a group of people staring at her. She grinned maliciously then before the eyes of her unwanted spectators she transformed into a huge grey hyena. Her maniacal laugh sent them all scurrying away; Aisha transformed back to her true self before exiting the other end of the alley.
          She underestimated Amber. Whatever powers she possessed manifested the moment they landed in the motherland. She had been overconfident when she knew better and now the girl and her mother were lost in Dakar. A quick sweep of the local hotels revealed they were not checked in. They were clever; they knew it would be the first place she searched. They weren’t familiar with the city, so they wouldn’t take a chance in seeking a stranger for help. Aisha was dumbfounded. Where would a person begin to look for another in this world? She would have to start with her own knowledge then go from there. In Marai each folk claimed its own section of the city. She would look for the American section of the city, if one existed. That would be where they would most likely go if they didn’t choose a hotel. Aisha spotted a man dressed in a large purple shirt and loose pants striding down the street towards her. There was a smile on his face; Amber smiled backed then approached him.
          “Excuse me sir,” she said in her sweetest tone. “Where would I find the American compound?”
          The man looked puzzled. “American compound? There is no…oh, you must mean the American Embassy.”
          “Yes, that is what I mean.”
          The man scratched his chin. “It’s a long way from here. Come, I’m walking to my car. I’ll take you there.”
          “Merci, sir! Merci!”
          Aisha followed the man to a dusty vehicle. She was used to automobiles now, so she climbed into the passenger side. They pulled away quickly.
          “What’s your name?” the man asked.
          “Aisha.”
          “Well, Aisha, your Momma should have taught you never to get in a car with a stranger.”
          The man’s sinister grin was barely on his face when Aisha snatched her wicked dagger  from her clothes and pressed the tip into his neck. It was her turn to grin.
          “No, sir. You should be old enough to know not to try to take advantage of pretty young girls. Now take me to this American embassy.”
          The man’s fearful eyes drifted down to the blade. “You won’t do it. I’m driving!”
          Aisha pressed the knife into his neck just enough to draw blood. The man whimpered.
          “The embassy, fool!” she spat.
          The man drove to a building that flew a red, white and blue flag decorated with stars. Aisha leaned closed to her reluctant chauffeur then kissed him on the cheek.
          “Thank you for the ride,” she whispered.
          She nicked his neck with her knife as she exited the car. The man yelled at her and shook his fist. Aisha had already forgotten him.
          The military man at the door greeted her with a smile before looking over her shoulder at the irate man.
          “Is there a problem, ma’am?” he asked.
          “No sir, but you are very kind to ask.”
          Aisha glanced over her shoulder as her involuntary ride sped away.
          “I hope you can help me, monsieur,” she said. “My friends from America came to visit me today but it seems I lost them at the airport. I think they would come to the embassy if they were lost.”
          The guard looked at her skeptically. “There were two Americans that came to the embassy earlier today. You say they are your friends?”
          “Yes, monsieur.”
          “Yet you miss them at the airport and then come here seeking them?”
          “I must make a confession,” she said. “My friends would not know me if they saw me. I was to meet them at the airport to assist them in their travels. They apparently grew impatient.”
          “They’ve made other arrangements,” the guard said gruffly. “Have a nice day, ma’am.”
          “Please, monsier, I must find them,” Aisha pleaded.
          The guard studied her a few moments before answering.
          “You can talk with the receptionist,” he said.
          “Merci, monsieur. Merci.”
          Aisha went to the receptionist. The woman confirmed that Amber and Alake had indeed come to the embassy, but she wasn’t at liberty to say where they were staying.
          Aisha thanked her then left  the embassy. So the duo had taken refuge in a local home. It would seem to be a good move, but there were few homes in Dakar that could provide two lodgers the comfort of a hotel. Her search would not be as difficult as Amber had surmised. She had no doubt she would see them very soon. She found another alley, ran then leaped into the air, her arms spread wide. She transformed into a falcon, a cry of joy escaping her mouth. Of all the creatures she could be, the birds of prey were her favorite. Their powerful bodies’ combines with their keen sight and ultimate mobility fascinated her. If there was any creature she could remain for the rest of her life, it would be such a beast.
          She beat her wings, climbing higher over Dakar. It did not take her long to find the city section she sought. A line of mansions rimmed the ocean side, houses resembling the lineage of Marai. She circled, seeking obvious sign of where Amber and the others would be but there was none. They were smarter than that, but still even the most intelligent person can make mistakes, as Bissau proved in Paris. She descended and found a perch on a nearby office building. The midday heat did not bother her; she was a child of the desert and the falcon she chose to be was well adapted to the high heat. Now was time for patience. She felt sure she was in the right place. She would soon have what she wanted.
          It was dusk when she saw it. A mystical flash rose from a sector of town south of her. She jumped from her perch, flying as fast as she could to the source before it waned. Someone used nganga nearby and she was sure she knew who. Despite her speed by the time she reached the source of the flash it had dissipated. Two homes filled her view, both splendid compared to the other homes in Dakar. There was only one way she could find which house was which. She transformed into her human female form, this time wearing the clothes of a local. She waited until darkness settled on the city before walking to the door of the first home. She knocked for a long while before giving up and proceeding to the next house. Aisha knocked then took on a sad expression. The door swung wide and was filled by a large man with a disapproving face.
          “What do you want?” he barked.
          “Something to eat,” she replied.
          “No beggars here,” he said. “Now go before I call the police.”
          “Just a little something,” she persisted.
          The man grabbed her shirt. “Didn’t you hear me? Be gone. You’ll disturb Miss Josephine and her guests!”
          Aisha’s eyes narrowed and she smiled. “Of course I will.”
          Aisha’s foot sank into the man’s stomach. He dropped her and she landed on her feet. She stepped over the groaning man into the house.
          “Bundu, who is it at such a late hour?”
          Aisha saw a light appear on her left. Another light appeared on her right. She looked right and a saw a woman she did not recognize walking toward her as she tied her house robe belt.
          “Who are you, child?” The woman demanded. “What is the meaning of…Bundu!”
          The second door opened. A woman stepped out, a woman whose face was very familiar. The woman saw Aisha and her hands flew to her mouth.
          A third door flew open at the top of the stairs. Bissau rushed out, his face twisted in anger. He jumped from the top of the stairs. Aisha grinned.
          She waited until Bissau was almost on the floor when she transformed back into the falcon and flew by him to the room. When she transformed she stood before Amber.
          “You’re journey is over,” Aisha announced.
          Amber stumbled back. The necklace about her neck glowed with a strange light.
          “That necklace will be mine once I’m done with you!”
          She struck at Amber’s neck and was shocked when the girl blocked her blow. Her foot flashed out and Amber blocked it as well. She almost laughed when Amber punched at her face until she realized the punch was a feint. She barely avoided the swinging elbow meant for her jaw.
          “You have some wrestling skills,” Aisha said. “Your Grandma taught you well.”
          Aisha glanced behind her; Bissau and Aisha’s grandmother were running up the stairs.
          “Time to end this!”
          Aisha reached for her pouch. Amber kicked her elbow and her arm fell limp.
          “Damn you, girl. I’ll…”
          Bright light filled her vision as Amber’s elbow crashed against her head then everything went dark. When she opened her eyes the back of her head throbbed and Bissau, Amber and her grandmother were entering the mirror inside the room.
          “No you don’t!” Aisha yelled.
          She jumped at the mirror. Bissau reemerged and slammed into her, knocking her to the floor. She tried to stand but Bissau pulled her back down.
          “We have unfinished business, shape shifter!” he snarled.
          “Then it will remain unfinished!” Aisha reached for her pouch again. Bissau dodged her and ran toward the mirror. Aisha smiled; as soon as he opened his portal she would follow him. He did no such thing. Instead he picked up a nearby chair and smashed the mirror. Aisha screamed then fell onto Bissau, pummeling him with hands, feet, elbows and knees.
          “Up the stairs!” she heard a female voice yell. “They’re up the stairs!”
          Aisha halted her assault on Bissau. He lay unconscious at her feet, his beautiful face beginning to swell. She ran to the edge of the stairs and saw four uniformed men climbing up to her followed by the woman and her butler. She hissed in anger; she was back to where she started. But at least this time she had a lead. She hurried over to Bissau, grasping his arms with her hands. What she was about to do would weaken her, but she needed him, at least until she could locate Amber and her grandmother again. The transformation took longer than normal; once she was done she was a falcon again and Bissau was a mouse in her talons. She flew upward as the uniformed men reached the top of the stairs then glided out of the door into the humid night.

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