Category: Young Adult

YA Sci-fi – A Falling Starr

YA Sci-fi – A Falling Starr

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YA Sci-fi
A Falling Starr
By Dani Hoots
Publisher: FoxTales Press
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A year ago I had woken up with no memory of who I was. No one seemed to know anything about me and for months the police investigated only to find nothing. The only thing I had was a necklace with the name Angela Starr.

The government gave me an ID with that name and let me enroll in a community college to get my GED. All the psychologists that they had examine me thought that would be best and going to school might jog some memories since they figured I was in my late teens. Well, it did, as I ran into a boy my age that I felt I knew, but before I could fully recover those memories, we found ourselves being chased into a portal that led to the other side of the universe.

But why did this other planet seem so familiar?

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About the Author:

Dani Hoots is a science fiction, fantasy, romance, and young adult author who loves anything with a story. She has a B.S. in Anthropology, a Masters of Urban and Environmental Planning, a Certificate in Novel Writing from Arizona State University, and a BS in Herbal Science from Bastyr University.

Currently she is working on a YA urban fantasy series called Daughter of Hades, a YA urban fantasy series called The Wonderland Chronicles, a historic fantasy vampire series called A World of Vampires, and a YA sci-fi series called Sanshlian Series. She has also started up an indie publishing company called FoxTales Press. She also works with Anthill Studios in creating comics through Antik Comics.

Her hobbies include reading, watching anime, cooking, studying different languages, wire walking, hula hoop, and working with plants. She is also an herbalist and sells her concoctions on FoxCraft Apothecary. She lives in Phoenix with her husband and visits Seattle often.

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YA Urban Fantasy –

YA Urban Fantasy –

 

YA  Urban Fantasy
Release Date: 3/13/2020
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Called back to his small town in Washington for a funeral, Ezra Zaan finds himself exactly where he doesn’t want to be … in the middle of paranormal problems with the vampire ex who broke his heart. The new owner of the Book of the Dead, Ezra’s tasked with defending the town against the Night’s Huntsmen—a deadly group of ghostly hunters who run a magical competition that ends in death and ruin for all paranormal beings. It is set to begin, and the only way to survive is if the factions of witches, vampires, and shifters band together.
Which is easier said than done when their hatred has them at each other’s throats. Investigating the breaches in the veil between their world and the other, they uncover a conspiracy that threatens to tear them apart.
It’s a race against time and their own tangled past as they prepare for the battle of a lifetime.
 
Excerpt
Setting the wards is more than a walk around the perimeter, calling out to the elements. They’re keyed into the very being and require blood to take. Cutting my palm, I bring forth fire in the other hand and allow my blood to drip onto the ground.
        By Fire I ward thee:
        Guard this space from all ill will,
        And those who wish me harm.
Heat engulfs me, blowing back the longish strands of my hair, and drawing a line of sweat onto my forehead. I’d never had manifestations like this. My stickh was with the dead. I continue on, ignoring the newly-formed desert in my mouth.
        By Wind I ward thee:
        Guard this space from all ill will,
        And those who wish me harm.
Droplets of blood disappear into the earth as if the land itself is making a personal contract. The incense burning on the ground releases a thick puff of sage and cedarwood laden smoke. Maybe it is. A gust of wind threatens to knock me off my feet as its snags at my jacket with hungry hands. I stumble, swaying like a drunkard. The intensity fades to a gentle breeze, and I right myself.
        By Earth I ward thee:
        Guard this space from all ill will,
        And those who wish me harm.
Rumbling from deep beneath my feet shakes the earth, pitching me back like a horse unexpectedly bucking its rider. Blinking, I find myself ass over kettle. I scramble up, and ride the undulating ground like a surfer on a longboard. Feet planted, I try to flow with the vibrations, instinctively knowing participation is required.
This is my time to prove myself worthy to inherit. Old magic such as this can be nearly sentient. Everything stops abruptly. I fall forward. A mound of dirt piles up beside me. I tense, readying to defend myself from a nocturnal rodent. A tree sapling emerges.
        By water I ward thee:
        Guard this space from all ill will
        And those who wish me harm.
A streak of lightning slashes through the night angrily. A loud clap of thunder vibrates the ground, and the sky opens above me. Cool rain splatters against my clothes, soaking me to the skin. I finish the walk, completing the circuit. Heaviness slams into my chest. I hit the ground, dazed. My vision darkens, and I feel it. The house is built upon a ley line. The wards take their energy from the source in exchange for protection.
Storm clouds crowd in as rain continues to come in sideways. Thunder booms, performing a duet with the crackling lightning streaking across the night sky. I can taste the magic in the air. Mother’s succession of power has begun. Sitting in the mud, I tilt my head back and open my mouth, swallowing down water to quench my thirst as I try to adjust to the drastic changes my magic has undergone. Energy races inside of me, stretching and reshaping. My skin feels too tight.
About the Author
Isa Mikaelson is a USA Today Bestselling author starting a new Penname for YA. She lives in Cincinnati with her two daughters and husband. She is known for her strong female leads, detailed fantastical worlds, and compelling romance infused plots. Her mind is a treasure trove of paranormal, historical, and various other random facts.
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YA Sci-fi – A Red Sun Rises

YA Sci-fi – A Red Sun Rises

 

The New Earth Trilogy, Book 1
YA Sci-fi, Science Fiction
Published: February 2020
Publisher: Evernight Teen
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When the end of the world comes . . . face it on a skateboard
Nine years ago, an unknown poison called the “Red” saturated the atmosphere of the entire planet, killing off everyone except a remnant of immune survivors. Jake is a survivor, but the Red has left its mark on him, changing him in strange ways he does not understand. The answers to his questions, however, will not be found inside the gated confines of his small community.
Jake and his group are not the only survivors. A handful of non-immune scientists and their families also escaped death by retreating inside a giant underground bunker called the Hole. Unable to breathe the outside air, the inhabitants of the Hole search for a way to fix the air and save the species.
Seventeen-year-old Paige grew up in the Hole, skateboarding its hallways and chambers. Life underground is all she knows. Trained as a medic, her day job is helping find a way to cleanse the atmosphere and restore the balance of nature.
Paige and Jake live in different worlds, each seeking answers that seem impossible to find. Everything changes when their lives collide in a chance encounter. Paige realizes that Jake may hold the key to defeating the Red, and Jake, in turn, realizes that Paige and her people may have the answers about where he came from and why he is what he is. With time running out, the two rush to uncover not only what the Red really is, but also the strange connection growing between them.
Excerpt
When dusk arrived, Jake slowed his bike and began to search for a place to hole up for the night. He stood in unknown territory and had no intention of risking night travel when God knew what creatures might lie in wait for a stupid human to stumble into their claws. In the distance, lightning spiked through the night sky, and the wind had picked up, swirling around leaves and bits of debris that littered the crumbling interstate.
Bad storm coming. Another reason to shelter for the night.
Jake began searching for a place out of the weather, thinking that a nice abandoned SUV might work. He balked at exiting the freeway and wandering around the surrounding suburbs. The I-95 had five lanes in each direction, thus providing a broad, flat expanse all around him that would make it difficult for anything to approach without being seen or heard.
Eventually, Jake found a black Peterbilt tractor trailer with a sleeper cab parked on the shoulder. Its driver’s side door dangled half-open, leaves and dirt caked the windshield, and a dead seagull corpse lay mummified on the hood. Undeterred by the moldy smell emanating from inside, he climbed into the cab, stepping gingerly in case his foot broke through the rusted-out floorboards. Then he leaned around the front seat to look into the sleeping area behind it to see if it was a suitable place to rest for the night. With a strangled cry, he threw himself backward out of the cab and landed on his butt on the pavement, where he immediately lost his dinner in several, gut-wrenching heaves. Inside the sleeper compartment, lying on the bed, was a body, or what was left of a body: bones, teeth, tattered clothing, and tufts of red hair.
Whoa there, calm down. It’s just a Red body. You’ve seen hundreds.
Yes, he had. But it had been years and years since those early days when dead people clogged hospital parking lots and churches and airports. Long-buried memories of his journey through silent city streets before the people of Edentown found him flared to life, causing him to shudder.
After picking himself up off the asphalt, Jake walked to the back of the dull aluminum trailer the truck had once towed. He had no desire to step foot inside the cab ever again, thank you very much. He flung open the rear doors and, seeing no surprises, climbed inside, dragging his bike up after him. He half-expected the cargo hold to be jammed full of now-useless consumer goods, like computers or iPads, but the entire trailer sat empty and smelling of kerosene. The sound of his breathing echoed faintly through the cavernous interior. He decided to rest inside this giant metal tomb tonight, but not anywhere near the cab. Yes, he had experienced gross all too often, but he had no desire to bed down next to it.
As usual, sleep was a joke, so he closed his eyes and relaxed his muscles, and before long, his mind slid into waking dreams about the day-to-day mundanities of life in Edentown. Like a video replay, he relived helping Cyndi chop vegetables and stir the soup pot. He revisited his eleven-year-old self on the morning after the great January blizzard, when the snow piled up so high it nearly buried the vehicles left outside. He remembered the many evenings spent in the big house sitting before the hearth playing checkers with Carl. But his meandering reflections cut off and his eyes jerked open at the sound of a mournful cry that almost seemed human. The wail went on for several seconds before fading away. A call for help maybe? A defiant challenge? Either way, he quickly resolved not to leave the trailer until dawn, although he bit his lower lip at the realization that the sound had come from directly ahead of him. Tomorrow, he would pedal head-on into whatever vomited out those screams in the night.
With unease churning away in his gut, Jake crept over to the trailer door that he had left cracked open and eased it shut, interring him inside the empty semitrailer. Once he settled down again with his back to one wall, he closed his eyes and tried to relax. It didn’t work. Minutes later, he felt a tingling sensation spring up in the back of his brain, as if tiny worms were crawling around on the surface of his cerebral cortex, but the experience felt more mental than physical. Then images flashed through his mind. They came and went so fast, he couldn’t figure them out, although he picked out parts of some of them: a dark hole under an abandoned building, a dog, the severed leg of some animal, and a swarm of rats. The montage flickered by for several seconds before disappearing, leaving him confused and disturbed.
What the hell was that? Am I going insane?
The rest of the night slipped by without incident, and he spent the remaining hours of the dark poking and prodding at the elements of his plan for tomorrow. Wilmington, Delaware lay only a few miles away, so in the simplest iteration of tomorrow’s events, he’d zip in, find the diner, zip out, and beat a hasty retreat toward Edentown by lunchtime. If he rode hard, he could be back in time for dinner, although Carl doubtlessly would rip him a new one. He didn’t care. Other iterations were more complex. The biggest variable in his plan? The fact that he didn’t really know where Pete’s Diner was. The second biggest variable? Monsters and mind freaks. He considered them second because he thought—or maybe only hoped—that bad things avoided the day and only came out at night. Normally a true statement for the creatures around Edentown, but who could say what new and different predators prowled the empty urban landscape around him.

About the Author

K.D. Van Brunt is the author of the well-received Win the Rings trilogy. A Red Sun Rises is the exciting first book of his latest trilogy. When not lost in space, his day job is lawyering in Baltimore.
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YA Coming of Age – Anne

YA Coming of Age – Anne

YA Coming-of-age
Published: June 2019
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Anne Mason has a storybook childhood.
A wealthy father, loving mother, and a beautiful home in Richmond.
But behind the polished windows, Anne’s father brutally terrorizes her mother.
Sent to live with her aunt and uncle, Anne enrolls in boarding school. Though she thrives, the traumas of her past gnaw at her insides.
Will hope and inner strength prevail?
Excerpt
Picture this. A room with two cosy armchairs and a brown wooden table resting between them holding a small clock, tissues, and minuscule pieces of Celebrations chocolate. The temperature was not cold, and not hot, but that perfect warmth you get from adjusting both the window and radiator heating. In one of the armchairs sat a middle-aged man, bespectacled, foreign — German, perhaps — with a balding patch on his head and weight around his middle. A kind smile spread across his face, his head tilted, garnering the same curiosity as an inquisitive child. In the other chair sat a girl. Fourteen, black hair cane-rolled on top and pulled up into a tight bun. Black hands, black duffel coat, black shoes, black tights. All that shed a silver lining — or a blue one — were the sapphire-crystal earrings hanging from her ears.
The girl was me.
The foreign man peered at the clock. He and the girl had been sitting in the room for forty minutes, the slight utterance of monosyllabic dialogue passing between the two. The girl was staring at the floor, her face expressionless. With only twenty minutes left, the man took his cue to pick up the bowl holding the chocolate and offered one to her. She refused.
“I do like Celebrations,” said the man. “Always a succulent choice.” He was definitely German. “They really melt in the mouth. Maltesers are my personal favourite, though. They’re the most popular, aren’t they?”
I grunted in response. He sighed; not in exasperation, merely in concern. “I know this is only our second session, but it would be nice to hear a little bit from you.”
I uncrossed my legs. It was amazing how interesting your shoes became when you had nothing to say.
“I’m not trying to force you,” he said gently. “I know this has been difficult for you. You have had a lot to deal with recently, and in the past. But that is why I want you to know we are here for you. When somebody close to you dies, it’s the most horrible thing in the world. That’s why we want to help you get through this challenging time.”
I closed my eyes, raising my head to the ceiling.
“How are you feeling right now?” he asked.
I shrugged.
“Anne, you are more than welcome to take your time, but remember, in here, you are safe. No one can hurt you. What we say is confidential, and you can say whatever you like.”
He was right. And yet, the clenching in my stomach wouldn’t stop. It was a reminder that no matter how awful things became, you were still left with the scars.
I spent the remaining twenty minutes in silence. So much had happened in my fourteen years of existence, I was unsure of how to form the words.
That week, I mulled over my previous two sessions and decided I was tired of being a prisoner of my past. I no longer saw the point of keeping myself closed off. Help had been offered to me, so surely now was the time to take it. I could keep the ghosts chained to me, or I could let them be released, freeing myself in the process.
When I returned to Henry — he said I could call him by his first name — that following Tuesday, I was ready to begin telling him everything.
About the Author
Zarina Macha is an author, blogger and musician born and raised in London, UK. She studied Songwriting and Creative Artistry at The Academy of Contemporary Music in Guildford. She regularly writes a social comment blog titled ‘The Zarina Macha Blog.’ In her spare time she loves reading and fan-girling over “Game of Thrones”.
In 2018 she began independently publishing her books through Amazon’s Kindle Direct Publishing platform. “Every Last Psycho” and “Anne” are her young-adult fiction novels that deal with mental illness, drug abuse, domestic violence and coming-of-age. “Art is a Waste of Time” and “Single Broke Female” are her two poetry books.
“Around Midnight” is her fifth self-published work. It is a young-adult drama about jazz, ambition, and a toxic relationship.
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YA / Middle Grade – Abigail Waits

YA / Middle Grade – Abigail Waits

 

YA, Middle Grade, Bullying
Published: September 2019
Publisher: BookBaby
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Bullying-the word itself brings negative connotations. It doesn’t differentiate race, gender or creed. Boundless with its grip and cruelty, the assistance of the internet leads it slithering through homes, schools, cities and countries. Meet Abigail, a victim of bullying that has hurt her mentally and physically. Hiding in the woods, away from words and hands that can hurt her is her only solace. Hannah, daughter to Cherokee Indian Chief Daniel Littlejohn, is continuing his work , after her father’s passing, locating Cherokee that perished deep in a thousand acre tract of woods to reunite them with their ancestors. At midnight is when Hannah enters the woods to be undetected. The forest seems to come alive! Walking by a stream she catches a glimpse of a girl. Hannah calls out and the mysterious girl disappears. “Who is this girl and why is she here?” Running to find her Hannah sees a pair of red eyes glaring in her direction. “Is this what father meant when he warned me about coming in the woods alone? Abigail watches Hannah. “Why does this Cherokee girl beckon me? Does she mean me harm?” Exiting the woods Hannah decides to seek help and assemble a team of trusted friends. Will time run out for the girl by the stream? The author has taken a mystical tale weaved with characters depicted in Indian folklore to spread the message of hope and kindness for anyone that has been a target of cruel behavior. Abigail takes us through the kind of despair where only isolation makes her feel safe. This happens too often in real life. Memorable and heartwarming the authors message is to look beyond someone’s nationality, disabilities , gender creed and see the individual for who they are.
About the Author
Bunny Lee was born and raised in Greensboro, North Carolina. She resides in Golconda, Illinois.
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Young Adult – Kirsten Howard’s Biggest Fan

Young Adult – Kirsten Howard’s Biggest Fan

Young Adult Fiction
Published Date: 2-11-20
Publisher: INtense Publications LLC
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Meet Michael Jordan Duncan; if you say his name fast enough, it sounds like Michael Jordan Dunking—which is intentional. Thanks, Dad. Mike is a sports fanatic who seems to have everything going for him: a recent growth spurt, a best friend who’s even more sports-obsessed than he is, and a (mutual?) crush on Kirsten Howard, the best player on the girls’ basketball team. Yep, everything’s shaping up nicely…. until he gets injured and his friend gets crazy. All the sudden Mike’s life isn’t looking so great, and that’s before a scandal that implicates both Kirsten and her coach, aka Mike’s father.

 

About the Author

Patrick Hueller lives, teaches, and writes in St. Paul, Minnesota. His YA novels have been selected for several “best-of” lists, including the Junior Library Guild, the ALA’s Rainbow List, and YALSA’s Quick Picks for Reluctant Readers. He’s against instant replay in sports but in favor of it in life. Learn more about Patrick and his books at patrickhueller.com.
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Twitter: @PatrickHueller
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Young Adult Paranormal Fantasy – The Waking of Ghosts

Young Adult Paranormal Fantasy – The Waking of Ghosts

Young Adult Paranormal Fantasy
Lost Souls Academy, Book 1
Date Published: 23rd Jan 2020
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There is an evil awakening.
At the Lost Souls academy, students aren’t your typical everyday alumni.
Rejects from clans, packs, and covens walk these halls, but there’s something more sinister haunting the academy.
A resident ghost has a new student, Zarya, on the fight to banish it. Will her actions cause more enemies at her new school than friends?
‘I’m coming for you.’
A message from beyond has Zarya fearful. Her skills are underdeveloped, but as a ghost hunter, she must stand and fight this new evil.
Can Zarya grow to be the ghost hunter she’s destined to be or will forces overpower her and bring chaos and destruction to the Lost Souls academy?
Excerpt
Confused, Zarya looked around. Leaves rustled on the surrounding trees in a chaotic movement, so she couldn’t see the direction of the source. The park seemed to darken in the afternoon light. Time slowed. Her senses sharpened as she engaged both her ghosthunting and witching abilities.
Another chilled rush of wind wrapped around her. Every muscle in her body fired on alert, ready to contract so she could spring into action. The problem was with nothing obviously there, she couldn’t fight back, let alone defend herself.
Adrenaline coursed through her body. Zarya ached to release the pent-up energy instead of being unable to do anything.
Snapping her head to the left, then the right, she scanned her surroundings, desperate to detect any anomaly. Her skin prickled as she realized she was the only person in sight. Zarya realized with a panic she was way too vulnerable there. That this might be some sort of trap, even though she was certain ghosts weren’t capable of that type of thing. The ghost was here somewhere, it had to be. It was the only logical reason why she saw nothing.
There was no vibe that this was a spell, so it had to be a ghost.
“Show yourself.”
Was that laughter in the air?
She glanced to the left where she thought the sound might’ve come from.
Nothing.
What the hell is happening?
“Chicken,” Zarya yelled out, struggling to keep her nerve. She summoned her magic, ready to block anything that might attack her, but again she was too slow.
A coldness wrapped around her neck. She gasped. Air pushed from her lungs. Unable to refill, she wheezed hard. Cursing herself for being so slow to react, she knew better than to have stayed exposed as she had on the ground.
Why didn’t I get up and run?
She knew damn well-running wasn’t her thing. She was a fighter through and through, and her style was to stay and fight. It was a good skill to have as a ghosthunter.
Zarya sensed the ghost was different than what she was used to. An old soul, perhaps? Confusion stirred. A spirit that had decided not to cross over. That was rare, and it was something to be concerned about. A ghost that was here by choice had more of an agenda than one who was confused and had unfinished business or simply wanted to bring chaos to people. A ghost-like this wanted more, to achieve something darker, to exert their will on others.
Her head began to spin from the lack of oxygen, and she couldn’t quite manage to fight back. It was as if she were frozen, held in the grip of this powerful spirit.
Zarya forced her eyes open, trying to see if it would show itself, to quietly challenge it to look at her. She only saw the park. Her vision began blurring. She commanded herself to stay conscious, but it was becoming too hard.
With the last slither of awareness, she conjured a spell, her lips moving quickly to build the magic she needed. Then she blasted the energy from her hand around her. The magic aimed to push away whatever it was harming her and to put up a protective barrier, so she could hopefully get her breath back before it attacked again.
She gasped a lungful of air as the grip around her neck released. Without missing a beat, she sent another wave of energy to build up her shield.
Then she felt it in her mind.
Before she could push it away, it spoke to her.
I’m watching you.
About the Author
Lilliana Rose is an Amazon Bestselling author, who writes romance in the subgenres of contemporary, paranormal, steampunk, and rural. She enjoys helping characters overcome problems or issues, and the misunderstandings that often plague relationships, to help them fall in love. Whether it’s city heels being replaced with country work boots, or some magic beyond this world, or cogs and gears and corsets, each story shows how love can prevail. She has over fifteen years’ experience in various education systems as a teacher, a skip and a jump from starting out in genetics research. It is all helpful for inspiring her writing. She has poetry, middle grade, picture book, novellas, and novels published under various pen names.
Check out more of her work at www.lillianarose.com and as an Amazon Author and her blog on inspirational creativity and wellness, Café Pondering www.cafepondering.com and Cultivating Creativity Workshops.
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