RELEASE DAY: Dean Lombardo "Donkey Sense"

Blurb:

Eleven-year-old Timmy Unterkanz suffers the death of his dad, and then extreme bullying in a new town. Timmy’s in serious trouble – that is, until Pedro steps in. You see, Pedro’s not your ordinary friend and bodyguard. He’s a talking donkey and he’s got a feisty attitude, similar to that of his owner, a former Texas ranch-hand named J.T. Atkins. Pedro and Mr. Atkins teach Timmy the ropes, like how to defend himself when there are no adults around. Timmy also meets Kelly, his eccentric voice of reason and confidence. Timmy’s safety and happiness will come down to one final showdown against his tormentor, the bully Eddie. Can Timmy turn his life around by proving to girlfriend Kelly – and to himself – that he’s not going to withdraw from a sometimes cruel world? That he’s going to be as feisty and stubborn as a donkey.

 

Author:

Dean Lombardo was born in Norwalk, CT, and now resides in northern Virginia. He is an author and avid traveler who makes it a point to explore many of the same settings where his fictional characters can be found. He has a Bachelor of Arts degree in Journalism and a natural curiosity about the universe and many things in it.

“Donkey Sense” is Dean’s third published novel, his first for a younger audience. His previous two novels include the sci-fi/satire "Space Games” (Kristell Ink, 2013) and the sci-fi/horror novel "Vespa" (Active Bladder, 2007). When not writing or researching his novels, Dean works as a writer and editor in the information technology industry, with a focus on software products. Prior to that, he served as an editor and reporter for several newspapers and magazines in New York and Connecticut. Besides writing and traveling, he enjoys hiking and reading suspenseful novels and mainstream scientific journals.

Dean lives with his wife Karen and their two children and one dog.

 

 

Now available on
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Excerpt:

Chapter One

“HEY, SHRIMPO UNDERPANTS!” shouted a big, beefy thirteen-year-old named Eddie Batts. “If you give yourself up like you did the last time, we’ll go easy on you!”

Timmy Unterkanz dropped his book bag and leapt from the sidewalk, leaving behind the four seventh-graders who’d followed him out of school after dismissal.

One of them called after him: “Hey! Slow down Underpants!”

Timmy ran across the parking lot.

“Hey!” another shouted.

“Get him!” Eddie yelled.

The sound of their footsteps followed him and Timmy shivered in terror.

Gotta make it home, he thought, huffing. He forced his wheezing, gasping self to run even faster, but already his legs were tired; weakening.

The second day of school had just ended and, as a fleeing Timmy reached School Street’s sidewalk, he wished he’d never had to come to Richfield, Pennsylvania, in the first place, to this school where older students greeted small newcomers with—

“You are so dead, Underpants!” Eddie hollered. “You better stop running!”

Timmy Unterkanz—or Shrimpo Underpants as some of his schoolmates were already calling him—glanced back at the four bullies chasing him. They’d gained on him and the quick peek back sent Timmy into a zigzag pattern costing him additional time. Focusing all of his attention on the sidewalk ahead, Timmy pumped his short, skinny legs and planted his feet as far and as fast as he could.

Eddie Batts’ voice came again, out of breath. “Hey Shrimpo Underpants, if you keep running away… it’s only gonna get worse.”

Timmy refused to look back. Despite being nearly exhausted, he pushed himself. “We’ll go easy on you,” and “it’s only gonna get worse,” was what Eddie had said the last time, and Timmy wasn’t going to let the four bullies slap and spit on him and then push him down again like they’d done on the first day of school during recess. They hadn’t used their knuckles, and by the time Timmy had found the nearest teacher to report the bullying, all of the bright red spots where they’d slapped him and the shiny wet spots where they’d “loogie-tized” him had mostly vanished. Then Eddie Batts, Joey Jergens, Ralph Bacchio, and Stew Pressner had lied to Mrs. Folson and said they hadn’t touched Timmy. Mrs. Folson, despite inspecting the accused boys with a suspicious eye, had let them off with a warning.

Worst of all, because Timmy had told on Eddie and his accomplices, the four boys were now trying to hurt him really bad. He’d seen it in their eyes just before he’d dropped his book bag on the school’s front sidewalk and bolted toward home. If only his mother could have picked him up after school today.

Timmy broke into a sprint, nearing the intersection between School Street and Main Street with Crabapple Farm on the other side of the highway, beyond the fence.

“Get him!” Eddie hollered again and Timmy heard the gang’s thumping footsteps getting closer. His heart racing, he scrambled to the end of the street then checked both ways for speeding cars before crossing to the opposite side of Main Street. Without slowing, he raced up the bank. When he reached the sidewalk, he turned left and gave it all he had, his feet flying, the soles of his sneakers smacking the concrete sidewalk, his breath coming in wheezes.

Almost home.

Timmy checked over his left shoulder and gasped when he saw Joey, the fastest of Eddie’s gang, sprinting diagonally across the street and heading straight for him. Behind Joey, the other three boys had just started to cross. It was going to be a footrace to Timmy’s front door and Timmy realized in a sudden panic that, one, he hadn’t even reached the end of Crabapple Farm’s pasture yet, and two, that Joey could run a lot faster than he could.

Timmy was hyperventilating, something his mom said happened whenever he got too excited or the weather was too humid, both of which were the case now. His mom always told him it was all on account of his asthma. Mom, where are you now?

RELEASE DAY: S.E. Campbell "The Mechanics of Being Human"

 

Blurb:

When Fawn awakens in the middle of a burning house, her memories are completely gone. She doesn't know who or where she is. She doesn't even know her own name. Though two people come to her rescue who claim to be her parents, she doesn't recognize them. They don't look like her either. Yet she doesn't have any place to go, so she finds herself following them.

As Fawn grows accustomed to her life, though she still has no idea who she is, she meets her neighbor, Gavin. Gavin is tall and sweet with bright blue eyes. Unlike the rest of the world, he appears to understand her. He too has had a troubling past. The two of them form a tight alliance. It's them against the world. Soon Fawn comes to realize she has feelings for Gavin.

Unfortunately, that's when trouble rekindles in her home life. A strange man named Ark hunts after her, calling her Model 29. Soon she comes to realize she isn't what she appears. She's a robot, a robot hidden from society so her abilities wouldn't be used for evil. Now not only does Fawn have to be scared of Ark, but she has to worry about what this means for her and Gavin.

 

 

Author:

Stephanie Campbell had her first book published at the age of seventeen. Now, at twenty, she is still wacking away at her computer, one day at a time. When she isn’t reading or writing, she likes to dance, take karate lessons, and run. After all, you never know when you’re about to be sucked into another world.

 

 

Now available on
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Excerpt:

Chapter One

When she opened her eyes, glowing orange danced along the nearby walls, making it near impossible to see her surroundings. Heat pressed in at all sides, entrapping her within its painful grasp. Black smog billowed around her, filling the dark room. Standing, she attempted to see through the hot madness that surrounded her. She should run, but she couldn't remember where the door was. She couldn't remember where anything was. When she searched her memory, she couldn't even remember her name.

Stumbling forward, she avoided a smoldering couch. As she passed the couch, she squinted through the inferno and spotted a once white wall was now painted by the fire and became black. Somewhere the wall had to have a door, she just had to follow it until she found it. She tripped over something on the floor but kept moving. She didn’t search long. A door, her ticket out, was just a few feet from her, partially ajar.

The opening made her heart lift and tingle. Hope. Yes, that was the word she was searching for. She rushed outside as relief exploded in her heart. She wanted to get away from the heat, which still reached through the door with wanting, hungry hands. As she teetered down the front steps, cold enveloped her feet for the first time. When she looked at herself, she realized something was wrong.

She was naked. Her skin pebbled with goose bumps. The tingling sensation disappeared like the smoke lifting into the night. Relief was replaced by angry needy monsters that grasped at the center of her chest and tightened. A painful ache filled her insides. Sadness and fear. She recognized the sensations, could feel them.

She looked around. Why was she outside naked? And why had she been in the house when it was on fire?

Shakily, she turned her gaze away from the rough wilds of the forest in front of her to stare at the inflamed house again. The house was small and stood grey and lifeless. Though she could recognize how the house must have once appeared, she didn’t have any sense of nostalgia toward it. The terrain—the thick trees in the distance and the old car sitting out in front of the ruins—was foreign. This was all new to her.

As she gazed at the house, fire burst through the window, causing the pane to shatter. She cried out for the first time as a rush of adrenaline and an urge to run filled her. She turned away from the house and toward the dark forest. Should I try to run through it? Her palms grew sweaty, and she found it hard to even inhale she was so tense. No. She didn’t want to go through there. Her gut warned her against it. So she stayed for uncountable minutes that oozed by in front of the fire until she heard a new sound. It was the sound of shrill, high-pitched wailing which caused her to cover her ears with her hands. Where was it coming from?

The noise. I don't like the noise. She gazed at the dark forest, her fists clenched at her sides. She would rather face the darkness of the forest than the noise. She stumbled toward the woods. As she walked, she stared at everything around her. Every crackle of the leaves distracted her. She saw a small, strange, furry animal. She wracked her brain until the word came. Squirrel.

All she could do was slowly name her surroundings, which was like seeing a picture of a distant relative she'd never been introduced to.

As she teetered, her brain abuzz, she tried to figure out where she was and who she was. Why had she woken up entrapped in an orange glowing jail? Why was she in the middle of a dark wood with thick trees that touched the sky? Who was she? Was it normal to feel such nasty, pressing feelings inside of her heart?

RELEASE DAY: Andy Lewter "Gifted - A Valens Series"

  

Blurb:
The last thing Abigail Everett thought would happen over spring break was having her world shift into an entirely new perspective.

Unfortunately for her, that’s exactly what happened.

Between struggling to master her newly-formed abilities, coming face-to-face with dark, deceiving mind tricks by those that seek her leadership, and learning of a mythical world that she never deemed possible, Abigail risks everything with the future of mankind and the safety of its’ people in her hands.

About the Author:

Andy is a stay-home mom with two beautiful children. Between homework, playing, cooking and cleaning, she writes on the side. Most of her inspiration comes from life experiences that have brought her both pain and happiness - both of which have helped her grow. She also gets inspiration from the wonderful people that have touched her life, accompanied with crazy dreams she has nightly.

She is so excited to have finally touched the edges of her dream as an author. She grew a fond passion for writing when she was young, and this story has given her determination that she can indeed fulfill her childhood dream.

 

Now available on

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 Excerpt:

Chapter 1

I walked through a familiar door — the same door I had walked through every day for as long as I could remember. It was a door I recalled with a painful longing, yet I had no desire to relive the monstrous memories that were once behind it. I stepped past a stairway and turned towards the living room, ignoring the laundry basket strewn on its side and the scattered articles of clothing that lay across the floor — all looking as if they had been tripped over. I squinted through the beaming sunlight coming from the window, swiftly walked past the neglected, dust-covered piano, and finally entered the doorway to the kitchen.

I turned, and as expected, there he stood — just as he always did.

Beads of sweat dripped off his chin and onto his shirt. The familiar smell of aged whiskey mixed with sweat made my nose scrunch. It would always take him a minute to realize I was standing there.

He slowly turned his face up, his lazy blood-red eyes following — and finally he looked at me.

"Hi, dad," I choked out and forced a smile, because that's all I ever seemed to manage.

"Abby, you came home," he said, bewildered and confused.

 

I opened my eyes and pressed my face into my pillow as hard as I could. I'm not sure where this dream came from or how it started, but it's been recurring every night for the past year and a half.

My father passed away three summers ago, and I'd be lying if I said it was a surprise. I don't think my sister or I ever knew him sober, but he had enormous potential had it not been for the alcohol. He adored his wife and children, had a wonderful sense of humor and always found ways to pull a prank and catch someone off guard. We all knew what kind of person he could have been.

But his addiction took over and robbed us all.

My mother has always been a hard worker and tries to set the best example she can for my twin sister Olivia and me. After my father's passing, we moved away from Palmdale, California to the small town of Newton, Kansas. I got over the devastation of the population size about six months after living here and now find it predictable and boring. My sister on the other hand, has yet to be satisfied.

Olivia has always been the pretty, popular girl at our high school with too many friends to count. She's constantly talking about the small selection of boys at our school, then raves on and on about having to drive twenty miles south to Wichita just to buy a decent pair of jeans. Cheerleading and her social life always seem to be more important than her academic requirements. Frequently, she needs me to tutor her.

My twin sister and I are exact opposites of each other.

 From what my mom says, I supposedly inherited my father's intelligence. I have a straight-'A' average and it doesn't seem too difficult for me to keep up. Well, except for trigonometry.

I have hazel eyes, thick, long, dark brown hair, and quite often seem to be the one with a smart remark in a crowd. While I have plenty of acquaintances at school, I'm pretty sure these people only like me because I'm Olivia's sister. But I don't care. The only person I truly connect with at school is my best friend, Miles Kavin.

This was our third year living in Newton and our senior year was going by very quickly.

I drew in a deep breath and peeked over at the clock, hoping it was later than I thought it was.

"Ugh, five o'clock in the morning," I said groggily as I rubbed my eyes.

I rose out of my warm bed and threw on a light robe over my pajamas. Whatever happened to wanting to sleep in like a normal teenager? Instead, I am the one that always wakes up before dawn and gets ready for school like it's something I look forward to.

I glanced over to my window, predicting it had snowed or rained overnight. Even though it was the beginning of March, we were in Kansas and anything could happen when it came to the weather.