Saturday, October 13, 2018

Clay and Blood Blog Tour: An interview with Author Rebekah Jonesy

Introduction by Jennifer Zamboni-

Hello friends, new and old! I signed up to help my fellow author, Rebekah Jonesy, launch her new book with a blog tour! 

If you're unfamiliar with me, I'm an urban fantasy author with a soon-to-be published book of my own. I write mostly about werewolves, vampires, and the fae, and I love sarcasm. Feel free to look around my blog and my other pages AFTER you read the interview. (& perhaps after you preorder Clay and Blood and buy the 1st book, Moss and Clay!) 

Now, without further ado, I give you: Interview with the Author!

Q: Who is your favorite supporting character in your upcoming release & why?

A: Pitch, without a doubt. He plays a big role in this book, mostly as a friend and teacher. My main character is a new formed, like a newborn but she wasn't birthed, she was created instead. As young as she is, about three months old, she still has a lot to learn. Pitch is old, older than he will admit. (That's another story) In Clay and Blood he finds himself in a role he is quite good at, taking care of and teaching the young. Which is a lot different than his normal prankish, slap-stick ways. He's still a goofball, but he's a dependable, generous, and understanding goofball.

Q: What’s your writing ritual? (What gets you in ‘the zone’?)

A: Try to fall asleep, be woken up by the voices in my head.
Ok that's just the start of it. I actually have a terrible ritual. I wait until the story has finished percolating in my head, then I wait till the house is quiet. I sit down at my desk, hunch over the keyboard, light a cigarette, and start typing away. Within a few minutes, usually without noticing, I will cross my legs and sit in a bizarre lotus position. I stay like that until my inspiration is used up. (This usually happens about the 18th time I realize I am trying to drink from an empty cup) Then I untangle myself and walk on feet that are half asleep to get more coffee. It's terrible on my back, legs, feet, arms, and eyes, but I can't seem to make myself stop.

Q: Tell me about your journey to your best cup of coffee? Coffee roasting, tell me all about it!
A: I get my beans single source, that means from one farm. I tend to buy different types from around the world as they come in season which lowers the cost. I get the green beans in a burlap sack and store them in a plastic container with no lid. Green coffee beans need to breathe, but my cat is obsessed with burlap sacks so I have to get them out of that ASAP. Depending on the type of bean I will roast it, in my small counter top roaster, for 5.1-6.1 minutes. The longer you roast the darker the flavor, but you also burn off the caffeine and some just taste better with different roast times. After that it goes into the hopper, loosely covered. Roasted coffee beans off gas for at least 24 hours, so you can't put it in an air tight container yet. Every time I make a pot (45 cup urn, whichever) I grind the beans right before adding them in.
I am currently drinking a wonderful Brazilian coffee. It is slightly sweet on its own, low acid, and has a wonderful floral scent when you first pour it. I've found that this is amplified when I make it in my percolator but diminishes when I use a french press.

Q: If you could live in your fantasy world would you and would you be some sort of magical being? 

A: I probably would. It is very much like ours. But I wouldn't want to be a fae of any kind. They cannot tell a lie. So I wouldn't be able to be a writer, since I write fiction.

Q: What is your favorite thing about being a writer?

A: Having other authors send me their work to read over. I am a rabid reader and devour books faster than I can afford. So free books is a definite plus. I also get to read my own books, which is fun. I usually don't know precisely what is going to happen in a story until I have written it.

Q:  Tell me a secret!

A: I once accidentally staked myself through the chest, narrowly missing my heart. I tripped and fell on a random piece of rebar that was buried with four inches sticking out above ground. We didn't know it was there till I landed on it. I also hit my throat and bit off a piece of my tongue in the fall, so I couldn't speak. I had to pry myself up off of the rebar all on my own.

Q: What’s in your main character’s pocket/bag?

A: Oh lots of stuff. A shell, a piece of driftwood, a few changes of clothes, several books, a mirrored journal (the twin of which is on it's way to the Shadow Court for Mab to use), a pair of shoes, passport, ID, credit cards, money, legal papers, a siren corpse cut in half, a plastic container with screw on plastic lid, silver knives, an empty glass jar that once contained sage, and a bar of soap.

Q: What would you do if you were given 3 million untaxable dollars?

A: Pay off my house, buy a new car, hire an assistant and publicist, and get one of those super cool 360 desks. After that I would pay for a week long retreat with the board member of OWS.

Q: What are your ultimate goals as an author? 

A: Earn a million dollars so I can pay off my house, buy a new car, hire an assistant and publicist, get one of those super cool 360 desks, and take solo writing retreats twice a year.

Bonus question: Any tidbits you want us to know about Clay and Blood? (Blurbs, preorder links, cover, about you, etc)

Book Blurb:
Book 2 of Mab’s Doll

Gillian Gilchrist has no time to rest after completing her first missions for Queen Mab and the goddess Danu. There is still the cleanup to do, and that’s how she finds herself following the trail of devastation left by a rogue fae.

Somehow this one moves through the trees without leaving any trace of its passing, except for the tattered and bloody clothing of its victims.

In the dark woods Gillian can’t tell if the culprit she is tracking is insane, sick, or simply acting out its true nature, but she knows that the only way to find out is to track it, capture it, and question it.
Unfortunately, that means following the scent of the victim’s blood soaked into the soil.

Buy Links:

About The Author:
Rebekah Jonesy knows stuff about things and isn't afraid to talk and write about it. Outside of the literary world, she is a mad scientist cook, gardener, Jill of all trades, and military spouse. Inside the literary world she is a devourer of books, publisher, and mentor.
“Rebekah has the best kind of rabies”- JD Estrada
You can follow author Rebekah Jonesy at TwitterFacebook, join her reader’s group, or her blog Heart Strong.

Blog stops:

10/10: Author Interview:
10/13: Author Interview:
10/19: Guest Post:
10/23: Guest Post:
10/24: Book Review:
10/25: Author Interview:
10/26: Book Review:
11/2: Guest Post:
11/9: Book Review:

Wednesday, July 18, 2018

Where the heck am I?

Haha, hi! Yeah, I still exist. I'm still writing. And editing. And momming. Oh, and reading!

I'm getting down to business. Beauty is the Beast, the first book in my Beasts Among Us series, is currently with my editor. She's almost done with her first run through! She's given me lots of great feedback . . . and corrected lots of grammar. (I really love/hate commas). I can't wait for everyone to read it! (Psst there's a sneak peek at chapter one in my private Facebook group)

I've also hired a cover artist, and guys, she's amazingly talented. Check out Mirella Santana's work here:  Especially check out the section services: book covers! Seriously. When I was thinking about publishing years ago, I was browsing DeviantArt, looking for book covers when I stumbled on her little corner of the internet. I fell in love with her stuff, and then I started finding the covers of books I've read and loved! I can't say enough. I can't wait to see what she comes  up with! I especially can't wait to see Gretchen! 

Other than that, my family has been slowly been renovating our house. I now have a bedroom. With a door! And a closet! For the last 3 years my bed has been in the dining room. My husband is now building my kiddos bunk bed. A bright pink bunk bed. The tiny tornadoes are over the moon about it.

So that's where the heck I am, and were I've been. What the heck have you been up to?

Sunday, May 21, 2017

The Blackstar Gambit

Genre: Science fiction thrilling adventure 

Book Description
The Blackstar Gambit, book 7 in the thrilling Col Sec series will see Kurt Stryder and Zara Hardy face their most challenging threat to date as they are faced with choices that place millions of lives in the balance. From one side of the galaxy to the other they race to find the truth behind an ancient cult that has spawned an evil so deadly it threatens to destroy the entire Confederation starting with planet Earth. Kurt and Zara learn that the good guys don’t always win and that bad things do happen as they stand by helplessly to watch the Blackstar Gambit play out. 


“What have you got for me?” the stocky man asked as he entered the room.
It was a small room, an office really, with a desk at one end behind which the other occupant sat. On the desk was a monitor screen, which held an image frozen in time.
The other occupant, a taller, thinner man pointed to the seat before him on the opposite side of the desk.
“Sit, if you will, and watch,” he offered.
The stocky man did as instructed, the man he had come to see knew he was not a man to trifle with and was aware he was more than a little afraid of him.
Goran Visjic, the stocky man, turned the screen fully so he could see it better.
Thomas Patten sat back and watched as the image on the screen began to play. He had seen the footage several times but was still amazed by it.
The footage was of a fight that had been captured in a nightclub. Not just any fight, this was different, for it was between one man against three much larger men while another stood by watching. The fight didn’t last long, the larger men attacked and quickly overpowered the smaller one, as expected, but then the situation changed and the smaller one took charge. In a display of savage, raw strength, he took the three men out as fast as the eye could see. The most remarkable aspect of the fight though, was something that had only been picked up briefly by whoever took the footage. They clearly did not know what they had witnessed but Patten most certainly did. He had the footage cleaned up and enhanced so that when the final version was shown him his heart almost stopped with excitement. This was what his visitor was now seeing.
The image clearly showed the person who had been attacked in close up just as he reared up from the floor after being pummelled there by the three larger men. The image zoomed in on his face and the cuts and scratches from the earlier skirmish miraculously healed as the footage unfolded. Before the man had flattened the other three, his face was as good as new, it had completely regenerated new skin over the damaged tissue.
“What’s this? Are you trying to pull something over on me here?” Visjic snarled, his lip curling up.
“What you see is actual footage of an incident that was witnessed by clientele of a nightclub. Someone watching this fight thought I would be interested so I acquired it from them,” Patten stated, a smile crossing his thin lips.
“This can be verified?” Visjic asked.
“It can, I have located the person in question and everything is in place for the next phase.”
“What are you offering?”
“I propose to obtain a viable sample of his DNA from which we will extract the means of duplicating this amazing ability.”
Visjic looked at Patten, his eyes narrowing as he contemplated his next move and what it would cost. The super soldier syndrome was the Holy Grail for every military in the galaxy. If Patten had it, he could name his price from anyone. He had to lock this down to him and him alone.
“Is this offer open to me alone?” he asked.
“If you meet my price, if not it might well become an auction.”
“You do not want to make an enemy of me, that would be most unwise,” Visjic threatened.
“You are in no position to make threats Visjic,” Patten said sounding much braver than he felt.
“And you have not even verified this serum yet either. When you have a sample let me know your price and we will negotiate further,” Visjic goaded, sensing the man was not as confident as he sounded.
“I’m sorry, did I say this was open to negotiation, no I did not. You will meet my price or I will go elsewhere. Do you really want your competitors to have this, think of the lives lost if they do?”
Visjic was furious but he knew what Patten said was true. He was entirely at this man’s mercy for the moment, which was something he could not allow to continue. For now though he would have to admit defeat. The battle was not lost, just postponed.
He rose from his seat, took a calming breath and said, “You have three days. If you fail then I’ll go after this myself.”
With a scowl, he turned and left the room.
Patten sat back and relaxed.
Visjic was someone he should not antagonise, for he had a way of exacting revenge for the smallest of slights and he had just been dealt a huge one. Still, if he pulled this off, Visjic would be more than pleased and he would be off his back for good. He was not too happy about the time constraints he had given him but he was sure he could deliver.
He reached forward and turned the monitor towards him. He watched the footage one last time stopping it at a close-up of the man in question.
He looked at the blond hair, the chiselled cheekbones and the cobalt blue eyes that shone with an intense vibrancy he envied.
“Okay, Kurt Stryder, let’s see what you’re made of,” he said at the screen.

Where to buy the book

About the Author

I was born in Staffordshire to a working-class family, my father worked down the local mines whilst my mother worked in one of the local Pottery manufacturing factories.
At school, I discovered the joys of reading. I was a big fan of sci fi books but I would read almost anything I could get my hands on. My mother took me to join the local library as soon as I could read and from that day on, if it had words on it, I’d read it.
In the early 70’s there wasn’t much choice where I worked so I ended up in an apprenticeship in screen printing for the ceramic industry. 
I’m still in the same trade after a forty -year career but my passion is and has always been writing. After several abortive attempts, I started the Col Sec series around seven years ago, it’s an action adventure series set in the twenty fifth century.

Books by Jan

Books in this Col Sec series
The Blackstar Gambit.
And many more to come…

How to find Jan Domagala

Friday, March 31, 2017

The Caging at Deadwater Manor


Author Sandie Will has released her debut novel, The Caging at Deadwater Manor. Set along the Florida Gulf Coast, this young adult psychological thriller is a heart-wrenching, edge-of-your-seat story about eighteen-year-old Jeannie Kynde who is locked away in Deadwater Manor, a psychiatric hospital with an unscrupulous past. In her words, she shares what it’s like to endure psychiatric treatments, mentally unstable patients, a sadistic nurse and a tempting attendant. Can she find the strength to survive the nightmare that is now her world?

Buy on Amazon

Book Trailer

Book Blurb

On a cold, January evening, fourteen-year-old Jeannie Kynde is told that her beloved mother drowned in the murky waters along Florida's Gulf Coast. Her distraught father turns on Jeannie, no longer the caring father she once knew.

Four years later, Jeannie is finally old enough to escape her father's clutches, but he has different plans. He imprisons her at Deadwater Manor, a psychiatric hospital with an unscrupulous past. 

Will she be locked away forever? Or can she fight against the nightmare that has now become her world?


So, what was the inspiration for this story?

As the cover states, Deadwater Manor was inspired by true events, so I wanted to share what this means.

About eight years ago, I wanted to see if I could write dark. I had already written a historical time travel,which was more on the adventurous side (this will be released later this year). At first I thought I'd write a ghost story, and I remembered that my dad worked at psychiatric hospitals during short spurts of his life, both state and private. He rarely talked about his time there. My mom had said it was because he was upset over things he saw.

So, I finally asked him. There were no ghosts, but he mentioned how he felt bad for the young girls because sometimes they were admitted against their will by families who didn’t understand depression or other milder psychiatric conditions. He also shared patient routines and how the hospital rooms were set up. And as he continued, he remembered a discovery he made in the attic. It gives me chills just thinking about it, even now, and it became the central part of the story.
So, though the story and hospital are completely fictional, it is based on a girl admitted against her will, my dad’s discovery and some of the patient routines, outbursts, clothing and treatments he mentioned. The rest is based on research.

Sadly, my dad has since passed away from Alzheimers. He was a wonderful man, unlike the father in the story (which he always reminded me to make clear!). Before he became too confused, I let him know I dedicated the book to him. I knew he understood when he became weepy. I'll be thinking of him on March 31. 

About the Author:

Sandie Will was born in Poughkeepsie, New York and moved to Florida during the 1970s. She earned her Bachelor of Science in Geology degree from the University of South Florida and Master of Science in Environment al Engineering Sciences degree from the University of Florida. She is currently working as a hydrogeologist and manager at a state agency that protects water supplies and natural systems. She primarily manages well construction and aquifer testing operations.  During her career, she has written numerous technical reports and articles for various science-related publications. Now, she is adding fiction to her writing repertoire with her debut novel, The Caging at Deadwater Manor. Sandie currently lives in Florida with her husband, Charlie. They have two grown sons, a lovable lab-mix and a pesky cat.  Her website and blog can be found at

Thank you for the support! I truly appreciate everyone who has helped me during this long journey.

Take care, Sandie

Saturday, March 11, 2017

The Rite of Wands

Genre: YA magical fantasy 

Book Description: THE RITE OF WANDS  by Mackenzie Flohr

One boy…one Rite… And a world of deadly secrets that could change the course of history—forever

And so begins the tale of Mierta McKinnon. When a horrible fate reveals itself during his Rite of Wands ceremony, he must find a way to change not only his destiny but also the land of Iverna’s.

Forbidden from revealing the future he foresees to anyone, he is granted a wand and his magical powers, but still must master the realm of magic in order to save himself and those he loves.

But Mierta is not the only one with secrets…especially when it’s impossible to know who to trust.


Mierta!” Mortain shouted at the top of the stairs, hearing nothing but his own voice echo. Watching smoke drifting out of the open doorway, Mortain took in a deep breath and tried to slow down his heart. The aroma of acrid chemicals and burning flesh filled his nose. 
Mierta!” he shouted again. “Son, you all right?” He listened, hearing nothing more than what sounded like gasping breaths.
“Father,” Mierta mouthed in response to Mortain’scalls, unable to produce any sounds as he dropped to one knee. His heart was pounding. Each pulse matched the ache he felt in his temples. A deep burning pain seared through his chest every time he took a breath. It was like he was slowly being strangled and there was nothing he could do to stop it. The inside of his nose felt charred and his throat felt like he was swallowing tacks. He blinked, his eyesight blurring, the pain beginning to overwhelm him. Nausea built in his throat and droplets of sweat slid down the side of his face. He wished he could do anything to end the torture. He could not imagine dying would be much worse. 
Mierta attempted to stand and tried to get away from the workbench. He managed a few staggering steps before his body was drained of all energy. He watched puffy white circling clouds fill his vision before everything was replaced by darkness.
Mortain felt his stomach drop at the sound of something breaking. “Mierta!” he screamed, racing down the stairs. “Mierta, answer me!”
When he reached the bottom, Mortain abruptly stopped, taking in the horrific scene before him. His son was unconscious; lying sprawled out on his back. What remained of a small culture tube lay shattered next to him, and chemicals dripping from a workbench bubbled and fizzled as they made contact with the hardwood floor. 
Acidum salis, he thought, his eyes widening.
Mortain raised his arm to his mouth, careful to not inhale any of the smoke that was filling the room. He trembled as he came closer, observing the damage that had been done to the left side of his son’s face. 
The skin was mostly raw red with patches of peeling burned black skin hanging off his face. Blood was seeping from some of the deep crevasses caused by the acid. Most of the damage was confined to the cheek and jaw area. His eye was spared any damage.  
“Oh, my dear Lord,” he uttered, fear filling his heart. “My poor boy! What have I done?”

About the Author

Mackenzie Flohr grew up in the heartland of America, chasing leprechauns and rainbows and dreaming of angels. Her parents nurtured a love of fantasy and make-believe by introducing her at a very young age to the artistic and cultural opportunities that the city of Cleveland had to offer.

From the time she could hold a pencil, Mackenzie was already creating pictorial interpretations of classic stories, and by the age of nine, she and a childhood friend were authors and reviewers of their own picture books.

While following her love of adventure, Mackenzie found a second home, the Beck Center for the Arts Children's and Teen Theater School. It was there that a world of wonder was only a script and a performance away.

Yet it wasn't until she was on a trip to Indiana, viewing a Lord of the Rings exhibit, that the innermost desire of her heart became clear to her. She wanted to write a fantasy of her own, one that could inspire imagination in others and lead them into a magical world of their own making. She hopes The Rite Of Wands will do just that.

How to find Mackenzie Flohr

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