Showing posts with label Virtual Book Tour Cafe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Virtual Book Tour Cafe. Show all posts

Thursday, February 27, 2014

Guest Post and Book Feature with YA Author Barbara Kloss- Breath of Dragons




Barbara Kloss studied biochemistry at California Polytechnic State University, and after she began working in a clinical lab, found herself daydreaming about far off lands and slightly deranged wizards. She, her husband, baby boy, and Lhasa currently live in Arizona, where she escapes the summer heat by writing about lush vegetation and moderate to cold climates. Author of the Pandoran Novels, a YA fantasy series.

Author Links - 



Book Genre: Young adult fantasy
Publisher: Self - published
Release Date: January 21, 2014
Buy Link(s):



Book Description:


After Prince Alaric's death, Daria and Alex set off in search of the legendary box of the Pandors'. The box is famed to hold a secret of power—one strong enough to overcome Lord Eris and the shield of power he stole from Valdon. Daria doesn't know where the box is hidden, but she can't ignore the silent urging, beckoning her to the land of Pendel—the land her mother, Aurora Pandor, was from.

Time is running out. Lord Eris's army of shadowguard vastly outnumber Valdon's forces, and if Daria doesn't find the box in time, Valdon will need reinforcements from the other territories to survive. But those territories will not hand over their armies willingly, not without Daria's hand in marriage.

And there is another, older power rising, one that hasn't been seen in centuries—one thought lost since the days of Galahad: the dragons.


Excerpt

Danton's eyes bore into mine. "My father is not a traitor, nor has he refused you. He asks only for your sister. It is a small request after a lifetime of servitude to King Darius, who has only used and exploited his service. He will not spare any more of his men, otherwise. He's spared more than his share over the years—you know he has."
I leveled my gaze with his. "I am not my grandfather, Danton. I am grateful for everything your father has given to this realm, but I cannot and will not grant your request. If the proposal is accepted, it will be because she has accepted it."
Danton's eyes slid back to the river. His expression remained cool, though the rigidity in his posture professed that an inferno blazed inside of him.
"I should inform you that Lord Vega has offered me the hand of his niece, Lady Isla Justine," he said evenly.
I had heard of this offer and I knew very well what it meant. If Danton accepted, Orindor would be united with Campagna and we would get no help from either side. Valdon would be completely and utterly isolated. "Will you accept?" I asked, careful not to give away my growing despair.
Danton's lips tightened. A gust of wind blew and ruffled his hair.
Seconds passed in heavy silence, and then Danton said, "Your sister would love me." His voice was quiet. "She may not at first, but I would be good to her. You know that I am a lot of things, but I would be good to her."
I inhaled, staring absently at the river. "I know."
After another few, quiet moments, Danton looked back at me. His expression was distant, his gaze resolved. "Your decision is final, then?"
"Danton, it was never my decision in the first place."



Book 2:

 Winter has fallen upon Valdon.

 It's been five months since Daria Regius arrived at the castle, and her grandfather, the king, has stripped her of all freedoms, building even more barriers around her lonely life.

 But darkness moves. Rumors abound about a dark rider, sending ancient and unspeakable horrors to the territories, and the citizens of Gaia are filled with fear. And fear blurs the lines of loyalty and trust, honor and allegiance, and cultivates dissonance throughout the kingdom. The people are anxious for this year's games, because this year, according to prophecy, selecting a champion means a true king can be chosen, and only once that true king is chosen can the people have any hopes of defeating the evil amassing around them.

 Propelled by fear for those she loves, unexpected friendships, and harrowing betrayal, Daria must gain the courage to escape the barriers set around her life and confront the evil that threatens to destroy Gaia—before it finds her and takes her life first.




Book 1:


For centuries, the people of Gaia have kept their magical world a secret to protect Earth from themselves. But magic can't save them from the evil they face within. The key to their salvation lies with eighteen-year old Daria Jones, a young girl from Earth with no magical ability at all.

Or so she thought.

Her father's mysterious disappearance from their Fresno, California home sets a whirlwind of events in motion, and Daria soon learns where to find him. The only problem is that she's learned this information from Alex—the guy she grew up with. The guy that was her very best friend until three years ago when he left without a trace. But now he's back (and devastatingly handsome. Unfortunately.) And he's claiming that her father has been taken to a magical world—a magical world Alex has been all this time. The same magical world she must go to in order to save her father.

Now Daria has to decide whether to stay away from the guy that betrayed her, or to trust him with helping her find her father. But if this evil finds her first, she won't even get the choice.




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Guest Post: Fantasy World Building


Worldbuilding, especially in fantasy, is an extremely elaborate and excessive process. You are building an entire world. It has it's own topography, it's own climate, cultures, religion, politics, foods, trade, species—you name it. And even though it's fantasy, you still want an element of believability to it. Something readers can identify with and connect to emotionally, and to help them do that, you really need to develop every aspect of your fantasy world. Immerse them in it. Of course, some stories don't require you delve into every single, minute detail, but still. There's a lot of thoughtful building involved.
I remember daydreaming about these things as I'd been brainstorming my first book in this series. Of course, sometimes you don't know exactly what you're going to do in the story until you get there, because your plot is tied directly to this world you've created. How will your world propel your characters to act? How will your world drive conflict?
I've had to go about world building much as I go about novel writing—in layers. If I'd stood there and mapped out everything from the most costly spice to the average lifespan of a duråt (a creature from Breath of Dragons), I probably would've fallen over dead. No, I just got the basics down, and discovered the world with my main character, letting the plot and world building grow together in a sort of symbiotic relationship. Of course, this is only my process. Some of you may prefer to know every single aspect of your world before you begin writing the story.
Then each time I go back through a draft, I force myself to dig deeper. To stop taking things for granted, and see if I can create my own spin on an "every day object" that might better reflect the world I've created and further immerse the reader into this fantastical place. I really have to thank Ms. Rowling and Harry Potter for this, because in everything she created, nothing was what it seemed to be, and I've tried applying that rule to my own stories. Take food, for instance. You've made up an entirely different planet, with different landmasses and different creatures. Why assume the people there eat turkey—or even have turkey, for that matter? Why not think up some other kind of meat? Or maybe they don't even eat meat. If not, is there some reason why?
And take language, for instance. What kinds of sayings do they have and where did those sayings come from? You'll find the more questions you ask yourself about one of those "every day objects," the more questions you'll discover that beg answering. I always feel like a toddler when I'm focused on world building, because I sit there always asking "Why? Why? Why?"
It can be extremely overwhelming but it is also so much fun, and the more you challenge yourself, the more you'll be surprised by how rich and complex of a world you can create. I learn so much just by reading, seeing what other author's have done well, and there are so many great resources out there for helping you to consider all the attributes of a world that may not have even crossed your mind. Because the deeper you dig into your world, the more you'll immerse your reader, and the more believable and real it will become.
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Thursday, August 22, 2013

Tour Stop and Excerpt for "Sapphire" by Bryan Alaspa




Jimmy Parker is a typical high school student. Unpopular with the girls and picked on by the boys, he’s just trying to survive long enough to escape the tiny Pennsylvanian town of Knorr. With Jimmy and his friend, George, heading to the school dance, they expect nothing but the usual ritual humiliation from their peers. But when a girl in a brilliant blue dress enters their lives at the side of a lonely old bridge…everything changes.

Her name is Sapphire, and she is the most alluring girl that Jimmy has ever met. Yet, there is something strange about her; something different. Why has he never seen her at school? Why does she only want to meet up near the bridge? And why does everybody keep warning Jimmy to stay away from her?

Before long, Jimmy is plunged into a decades-old mystery. The town of Knorr has many secrets; some held by powerful men. Men that would do anything to keep them from getting out. Something dark happened one night in Knorr, and now Jimmy is a part of it whether he likes it or not.

And Sapphire holds the key to understanding it all.

Jimmy discovers that his bond with the mysterious girl creates a unique power between them. A power that bridges time, space, and even dimensions. It is the one thing that could save them both.

Because sometimes the most powerful force on Earth is love.



Praise for Sapphire:

“A superb, well written story with a 50 year timeline. Initially a ghost story that turns into a mystery that becomes adventure and investigation turns again into a whodunit.” ~Robert Drake, Amazon Reviewer

“I was drawn to this book for the cover and it had been recommended to me by friend who knows my love of Western PA. I thought this book really captured the rural feel of a teenager's life and just as I was feeling a little complacent about it, Jimmy and George meet up with Sapphire on the river bank and the story really takes off.” ~Mary H., Amazon Reviewer

“A story of mystery and murder. A chilling, ghostly tale. An account of the pains and joys of youth, a romance, a love story like no other.” ~Daniel Cheely, Amazon Reviewer



 Bryan W. Alaspa is a freelance writer and professional author of both fiction and non-fiction. Having lived in Chicago almost his entire life, he spent a few years living in St. Louis. Bryan's writing first began when he sat down and wrote a three -page story on his mom’s electric typewriter in the third grade.  It’s been all up-hill since then!

With over 20 books in both fiction and non-fiction genres available,  you can find most of them at Amazon.com with few books just for your Kindle and iPad users.  Be sure to check them out.

A blogger for some time, you can learn about upcoming books as well as various author events Bryan is involved in.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon


had given him as a kid when he wanted a toy that was just too expensive.  It was the same look she had given him when he begged her for a cell phone.  And he saw the exact same look from her whenever he talked about needing a car.

Sapphire (excerpt)

by

Bryan W. Alaspa


1

Jimmy stood in front of the full-length mirror and did not like what he saw.  The sleeves were too short.  The white cuffs of his shirt stuck out from the sleeves of his jacket.  Any dork could see that. Unfortunately, most of the student body at Knorr High School already thought of him as a dork.  The last thing he wanted was feeling that way during his senior prom.  However, here he was, looking at an image that could only be described as “dork.” 
“No one will notice,” said his mother from behind him.  She was hovering over his shoulder like a specter.  She was smiling and proud.  “You can take it off once you get there, and no one will even be paying any attention.  Everyone will be too busy having a good time to care what you’re wearing.”
Jimmy sighed and tugged uselessly at the jacket’s sleeve.  “Mom, you just have no clue.”
She came forward and hugged him.  Then she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.  Jimmy felt even more like a geek. 
“I’m not supposed to,” she said.  “Mothers are not supposed to have a clue.”
“Why couldn’t I have rented one?”  Jimmy asked for the nine-hundredth time that afternoon.
“You know why,” she said, turning her back and fussing with something out of his sightline.  “We can’t afford it.  Your uncle had this perfectly serviceable tuxedo and it’s a shame not to use it.”
She reappeared beside him in the mirror, her hand on her hip.  Her mouth was a tight line.  Jimmy knew that poking at the nerve that they were not a family of means was a low blow.  He had seen that look before.  This was the same look she
“I spent a lot of time getting the shirt and pants to fit you,” she said.  “I did the best I could with the jacket.  If you want, you can spend the night at home with me instead of going at all.  So, either deal with this situation the best you can or don’t go.  I really don’t care.”
She cared.  Jimmy knew she cared.  She and his father had worked their fingers to the bone to provide for Jimmy.  The family had never gone hungry.  They had never been without clothes.  They may have shopped for their new school wardrobe at Goodwill, but they had clothes.  They may have eaten more macaroni and cheese than others, but they were never hungry.  Their car may have been rusted through and coughed out oily blue smoke, but they always got where they needed to go.  The house may have been run down and it may have been in the part of town most of the other kids avoided, but they always had a roof over their heads.  Then his father had died, suddenly, a few years ago.  The pain was always there, behind Jimmy’s eyes, lurking around every corner.  His dad had done what he could to make sure his family was cared for, but it had not been easy.  His mother worked very hard.
Jimmy smiled his crooked smile. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly.  “I appreciate it, Mom.  Come on, it wouldn’t be a weekend if I didn’t complain about something.”
His mother’s face softened and then her smile returned.  Jimmy managed to turn away, searching for the bow tie, before she could plant another kiss on him.  He was only willing to be gracious up to a certain point.  He found the tie and fiddled with it for a moment.  When he turned back toward the mirror his mother was fiddling with something behind him again.  He affixed the tie and straightened it.  He took another look.  His image still said “dork,” but he had lived with that image for a long time. 
Before too long he would be elsewhere, and all of the things he had gone through in high school would be over.  He could live with looking like a dork for another night.  Besides, he was going with his best friend George, anyway, so things couldn’t get too bad.
“When is George getting here?” his mother asked.
“About five more minutes,” Jimmy said.
“I wish you two had managed to find some nice girls to ask,” his mother said.
“Mom, there isn’t a girl in Knorr High School that would be caught dead attending the senior prom with Jimmy Parker or George Howell,” he said as he adjusted his tie one more time.  It immediately went crooked again, and he decided that the tie really didn’t matter.
“I’m sure that’s not true,” his mother said.
Jimmy turned to face her.  “Mom, trust me on this one.  George and I are not the most popular kids in school.  In fact, we are far from it.”

She reached out and pinched his cheeks.  This was the one thing worse than the kiss on the cheek.  One thing was certain: his mother had some kind of cheek fetish.
“But you’re such a smart, nice kid,” she said.
Jimmy snorted.  “Mom, even in your day the smart and nice kids were not the popular ones in school, were they?”
She put her hands on his shoulders.  “I found your father in high school.  He was smart and nice.”
“He also played football,” Jimmy said.
“He was the kicker,” she said.  “You know, back in the old days when dinosaurs walked the Earth, and your father and I were young.”
“Kickers still wear uniforms,” Jimmy said.  He paused to make sure his hair looked OK one more time.  The cowlick towards the back of his head was still there despite the industrial strength hair gel he had put in there.
Just then, the phone rang.  Jimmy’s mother vanished into the kitchen and Jimmy turned back to the mirror and adjusted his tie for the millionth time.  He also tried to plaster his hair down, but to no avail.  He sighed.  He was always going to look this way, right?
“Jimmy,” his mother said, returning to the bedroom.  “It’s Jesse.”
Jimmy smiled.  Jesse was the town’s librarian.  The library was small, but filled with wonder, as far as Jimmy was concerned.  It overlooked a river and was surrounded by touristy attractions, but inside it was all books and musty smells.  Jimmy had buried himself there when his father died and Jesse had taken a kind of liking to him.  It may have been a stretch to say that Jesse was a father figure, but their relationship was pretty close.  Jimmy ran to the phone.
“Hey, Jimmy! Are you looking sharp in your suit?” Jesse asked.
Jimmy laughed.  “Jesse, I would not look sharp wearing a suit full of razor blades.”
“Come on, you know that isn’t true,” Jesse said.  “I’m sure you and George will have a good time.  Maybe try to get up the nerve to ask a girl to dance.”
“I wouldn’t put money on that,” Jimmy said.  “I’m betting most of the girls there arrive with dates.”
“You just never know,” Jesse said.  “I had a pretty amazing time the night of the big dance when I was your age.  And I ended up going with a beautiful girl, to boot.  You need to be a bit more positive.”
A honk came from outside.  This was followed shortly by a sound that was only slightly quieter than a Howitzer shell going off in the living room.  George had arrived with his car.  The engine settled into a low rattle as the car set about trying to shake itself to pieces again.  
“Yo, Jimmy!” came the bellow from the car. That could only have been George leaning out the driver’s side window.  George was not known for being subtle.
“That sounds like George,” Jesse said.
“Yeah, that’s him,” Jimmy said.
There was a pause.  It seemed like there was more to say, but anything else would have crossed some line between them and that line was still held by Jimmy’s father, even though he was gone. 
“You be careful tonight, Jimmy,” Jesse said.  “Come by the library when you can and tell me all about it or give me a call tomorrow.”
“I will,” Jimmy said, and paused, then added. “Thanks for calling.”
“You bet,” Jesse said.    
Then he was gone, and Jimmy ran back to the bedroom.  His mother was there with her hands to her throat in an unconscious anxious gesture she often did, looking as if maybe she had been crying.  His mom appreciated how Jesse looked after him, but the pain of losing his father was still there.  Jimmy smiled and gave her a kiss on the cheek.  Another honk came from outside, so Jimmy had to move.
Jimmy tried to move past his mother, but she grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him back and looking him full in the face again.  She smiled, and, much to Jimmy’s consternation, he saw tears swimming in her eyes.  She was about to give him some sort of speech about how proud she was of him.  It would be similar to one she had given him when he had first gotten the scholarship to attend Clark University.
“Be careful,” she said instead, her voice quavering.  “And have fun.”
Jimmy smiled.  This time, he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.  He left quickly just because he did not want to see her cry.  He ran down the hall and through the living room. 
Jimmy bolted through the door and heard it bang shut behind him. George was hanging out the window of his car, his tuxedo jacket already tossed in the backseat.  He had a huge grin on his face, his hair already wild and windblown from driving with the window down. 
“Come on, the party awaits!” he yelled in the rather odd way of speaking that George had and that so marked him as an outsider, and leaned back into the car, reaching over the passenger’s seat to unlock the door.
“What’s it waiting for?” Jimmy asked as he opened the large, rusty door with a loud screeching sound.
“Us, my man,” George said as Jimmy planted his ass on the passenger seat and slammed the door.  “It is waiting for us.”
Jimmy laughed.  “You do live in an amazing fantasy world.”
George leaned around the passenger seat to peer out the back window as he shifted into reverse.  “You should move into my world, my friend,” he said.  “Plenty of room, and the fun never stops.”
Jimmy laughed again.  He thought that maybe it would be a night to remember, after all. Once Jimmy was situated in the passenger seat, as often happened when he was with George, Jimmy’s own form of speech slipped into the oddly formal way that George spoke.
   “Then lead on, sir,” he said. “Lead on!”

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