Showing posts with label YA SciFi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label YA SciFi. Show all posts

Monday, January 22, 2018

Excerpt Reveal: First Life

Title: First Life
Author: Rose Garcia
Genre: YA Sci-Fi/Paranormal
Hosted by: Lady Amber's PR
Dominique has survived the final attempt on her life only to discover that someone connected to her future will suffer her same fate. Determined to spare this innocent loved one from being hunted for lifetimes, Dominique and her remaining allies travel to first life with a mission to alter destiny. When Dominique and her companions arrive in the past, they are confronted with a reality they didn’t expect, and are shocked by a turn of events that threaten to change everything they know.

A prequel that starts where Final Death leaves off, First Life delivers heart-stopping action and gut-wrenching emotional turmoil. Be sure to read Final Life, Final Stand, and Final Death before delving into the unpredictable world of First Life.

Rose Garcia is a lawyer turned writer who’s always been fascinated by science fiction and fantasy. From a very young age, she often had her nose buried in books about other-worlds, fantastical creatures, and life and death situations. More recently she’s been intrigued by a blend of science fiction and reality, and the idea that some supernatural events are, indeed, very real. Fueled by her imagination, she created The Final Life Series—a Young Adult science fiction/fantasy series about people who have the ability to control the energy in and around them. Rose is known for bringing richly diverse characters to life as she draws from her own cultural experiences. Rose lives in Houston, Texas with her awesome husband and two amazing kids. You can visit Rose at

Author Links: Facebook Author Page:
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YouTube Channel:

Buy Links for Final Life Series:
Final Life: (FREE)
- Amazon UK:
Final Stand:
Final Death:
First Life Pre-Order Link: 


Infiniti chewed her ghostly bottom lip as I stomped to the center of the room, barking orders. “Dominique, get to the back of the room. Trent, come with me.” Trent and Dominique stayed close, neither one wanting to break from the other.
“Oh my God, Fleet, they’re gearing up,” Infiniti said, her translucent form alternating between being in the house and looking outside. “They’re putting on vests and things.”
“We gotta move,” I urged Trent and Dominique. “Now.”
“Yeah,” Infiniti echoed. “Like, right the hell now.”
Trent planted a kiss on Dominique. “I’ll be right back, I promise.” Letting go of her, he came over to me.
With no time to focus on anything but our mission, I gripped his hands. “Concentrate on your energy. Think of the Boardman, think of the year 1868.” Standing with Trent, a Supreme Transhuman with incredible yet unharnessed abilities, I had to believe he could help me get to 1868. He kept glancing at Dominique. I gave his hands a death-grip squeeze. “Listen, man, I need you to be right here with me, got it?”
He blew out, his stare fixed on me. “Got it.”
“Good. Help me get there, and I’ll get the job done. Okay?”
“Okay,” he answered. “And I’ll break our connection right before you time jump.”
“Exactly,” I said. 
“Okay,” Trent muttered. “I can do that.”
I had no idea if he could do it or not, but it didn’t matter. We needed to act. With my face cast down, I closed my eyes and pictured the Boardman River area in my mind. Back in 1868 we lived in small, simple cabins—Stone and Caris, Dominique’s parents, were in one cabin with Dominique. My brother Farrell, our friend Jake, and myself were in another. There was also a third cabin for visitors. Traveling to a time and space I inhabited would merge my current self to my other self. All I needed to do when I arrived was find Tavion and kill him. 
“They’re coming to the door!” Infiniti cried out in a panic.
Commanding my power to flow from me, I kept the cabins, the woods, and the river clear in my mind. “Go there,” I whispered.
My skin warmed. My insides tingled. My body lifted off the ground. Opening my eyes, I saw shades of gray and blue energy swirling about the room. The vapors crackled with sparks. Heat started filling my airways. It was working.
“They’re ready to kick the door down!” Infiniti screamed.
Dominique held up her hands, protecting herself from the tornadic-like activity in the house, her hair whipping wildly about her face. Infiniti dodged from inside to outside, giving a play-by-play account of how the police were about to bust in. Trent’s body shone as bright as a blue-bathed sun. I could barely look at him.
“1868! The Boardman!” I hollered to Trent. A surge of weightlessness took over me. Seconds away from the time jump, I yanked my hands from Trent’s, but couldn’t break away. His hold was iron-clad. If he had any chance of staying in this time, he needed to release me before it was too late.
“Trent! Let go!” 
In flashes of energy-filled chaos, a host of cops charged into the house. Trent turned to face them. “Get back,” he said in an eerily calm voice.
The cops slammed up against the ceiling and stuck there, like rubberized toy figures with sticky-glue on them. Their weapons clunked to the ground. Infiniti shrieked. Dominique lunged for Trent. Everything went black.

Monday, April 25, 2016

Blog Tour: The Separation

The Separation
Stormy Corrin Russell

Evernight Teen, 83k words
Distopian, Sci-Fi, Romance

In a world where men and women live on separate sides of a massive wall, seventeen year old misfit Eroyn Fairchild has always been too busy with her broken family to wonder why they live the way they do. When a man from the other side breaks through, Ero holds him hostage, hoping for a ransom large enough to pay for her Elder Grace’s treatment. Things get more complicated as the man is followed by two others who make Ero question everything she’s ever known about her life. As Ero searches for the truth, the lines between right and wrong blur, leaving her to choose between saving her city and saving herself.

Buy Links:    Evernight Teen    Amazon    ARe


One of the things I love about Grace is that she is the heaviest sleeper I know. So heavy, in fact, she doesn’t hear me dragging a thrashing body through the front door at two in the morning. For the first time in my life, I consider it lucky that we live on the outskirts of the north side. If we didn’t, I would never have been able to get it this far without attracting attention. A loud, confused sound starts to come from the net, so I kick it firmly.
        “Shut up,” I hiss, looking around nervously. I’m not worried about Grace rousing, but I don’t want the neighbors waking up and noticing my noisy cargo. I kick twice more, as hard as I can. Silence, finally. With a sigh, I wipe my arm across my forehead, getting rid of the sweat beading there. I sink down on the couch, staring at the large lump inside the net on my living room floor unblinkingly. Little red flowers are blooming all over the heavy white plastic, and they grow quickly. It’s blood, I realize with a sick feeling. It’s seeping through from the inside and leaking onto the clean white carpet of our house. It can’t be real. It just can’t be.
I see Almond cut across the room and sniff at the lump with caution. With one movement, I scoop him up and press him to my chest in horror. For the first time, I realize the danger of what I've just done. I’ve invited a monster into my house.
        I’ve made a horrible, horrible mistake.
It takes Luna ten minutes to get here five minutes faster than usual but it feels like hours. She lets herself in the back door quietly, but I rush into the kitchen to meet her.
        “Where’s Grace?” she asks with urgency, dropping her medical bag on the kitchen table.
        “What? No, I … this isn’t about Grace,” I stutter. I open my mouth once, then again, but it’s no use. Nothing is coming out, so I turn on my heel and tiptoe into the living room. Luna wordlessly follows, eyeing the netted form. I kneel next to it, holding my breath. With shaking hands, I slide the knife into the plastic and pull it upwards slowly. I know what it’s going to reveal when I pull the plastic away, but it still makes my breath leave my lungs in an audible whoosh. I can’t seem to inhale again once it’s gone. I hear Luna do the same next to me.
        “Is it a…?” She leaves her sentence unfinished, and I nod. The small slit I cut in the plastic shows a thick arm under a rolled-up shirt, far too thin for our recently nasty winter. At the very end of the slit, I glimpse a swollen throat and a jaw covered in a dark shadow of hair. A chill runs down my spine and my stomach turns.
        “Is he alive?” Luna asks, her voice small.
        “I … I think so.” I stare at the floor guiltily. “I kicked him pretty hard to shut him up.” She scoots closer and with trembling fingers folds back the plastic to see his side, where most of the blood is coming from.
        “Cut the rest of it off him,” she tells me quietly. I stare at her in shock.
        “But, he––” She cuts me off with a look.
        “He isn’t dead yet, but he will be if I don’t stop the blood loss.”

        I swallow hard, and comply. 

About the author:

Stormy Corrin Russell is from Orwell, Pennsylvania where she first started writing from the moment she could hold a pencil. She still loves to write there and nearly everywhere else. She loves her family, the outdoors, laughing, eating, and her kitten/writing partner, Maya.

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Tuesday, April 5, 2016

Release Day Blitz: Outbreak

Title: Outbreak
Author: Christine Fonseca
Genre: YA Sci-Fi/Action-Adventure
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Dakota never thought she’d crave her old life in Boresville. Not until the Creator’s assassins came and took everything, everyone, she cared about—all except for David. He’s the only thing she has left, and he wants her to reclaim her so-called gifts once and for all, something that will force her into the very life she’s trying to avoid. 

When a new secret reveals both hope and betrayal, Dakota is forced to face a destiny she no longer wants. Now she must learn how to trust her instincts without becoming the thing she fears most—a killer. 

Award-winning and critically-acclaimed author of fiction and non-fiction. Lover of books, lattes, and family. Passionate about humanity. Recent titles include Transcend, The Solomon Experiment series, and Emotional Intensity in Gifted Students, second edition.

When Christine isn’t writing a book, she can be found sipping too many skinny vanilla lattes next to a beach with a book in her hand.

For more information, visit her website –
Author Links:
Author Amazon:
Buy Links: Amazon:
**Collide, Book One is on sale for #99cents til 4/15**

Seven padded across the room, watchful and silent. He’d learned a few things since the Architect’s death, lessons that included never making yourself too known to others and never becoming too confident of your position within the Order or with the Creator. Both would get you killed. Seven knew he had to play things cool if he was going to survive whatever the Creator had planned.

The floor was cold beneath his bare feet. “Be in touch with the ground whenever you can. You will sense more of the life around you,” the Creator said. “And that will fuel your abilities.” He drilled this into Seven constantly, so much so that he almost never wore shoes at the compound.

But this wasn’t his compound now. That had been destroyed by the very people he was meant to capture. This was something new, some place foreign.

Are you ready for your next assignment? The Creator’s voice soothed Seven’s restlessness.

Yes, Master. Always.

Come to my office. This is something we must discuss first. In person.

Yes, Master. Seven didn’t like feeling summoned by anyone, not even the Creator. Not that he could do anything about it. He was the subordinate, at least for now. One day he would have enough strength to be considered an equal. But not yet. For now, Seven was nothing more than an apprentice.

Seven glanced around his new room, smaller than his quarters in the compound. This place was more like a warehouse, and his room more like a prison cell.

All of the survivors, the few that were left after the vicious attack at the lab, had settled here a few days after the events. Considered nothing more than temporary housing, the facility still looked like the abandoned warehouse it was when they found it over a month ago. Nothing felt like home to any of them, least of all Seven.

He walked to the small mirror that lined the back of his door. His eyes still held the fire, the passion, from before the attack. But there was less naiveté now. Less hubris. Or superiority.
Memories of the attack filled Seven’s mind. The girl that caused the chaos and took the Architect’s life. The boy that fought like a samurai and threatened Seven’s world. The fire that spread through every room, killing many of the recruits, his friends. Seven was not as prepared as he thought; not as strong. He should have been able to stop the two from escaping. If he had—

Seven couldn’t finish the thought. It bothered him to think that his failures were directly responsible for the destruction of the compound. The Creator never blamed Seven, nor had any members of the Order. They didn’t have to—Seven carried the guilt anyway. It powered his motivation, gave him focus.

He noted the scar that stretched across his forehead, over his brow line. It hadn’t existed before that night. Now it served as a reminder, something his guilt could cling to whenever he began to release it.

Why are you still in your quarters?

The Creator’s impatience pulled Seven from his thoughts. Sorry, Master. I’m coming. He closed his eyes and refocused. There was no time for him to wallow, no time to wonder about the past. There was only now, and his need to prove to the Order—to himself—that he was a worthy heir to the Creator.

The walk to his Master’s office seemed longer than usual. Seven’s heavy footfalls on the hard concrete ground sent tremors up his legs, which settled in his torso. Each step brought a new trepidation. Seven again refocused. He couldn’t be in the presence of the Creator in this state. He had to settle his fears and be the disciplined warrior once more.

Voices emanated from behind the closed doors of the office. The Creator’s and more. Seven stopped and stared. Centering his mind, he pushed his thoughts through the heavy, metal door. The Creator’s office came into view. Sterile, stern, unyielding—just like the Creator himself. On the wall projected five pictures, each with one filled with a different member of the Order. Seven looked at his Master, noting the concern etched on his face. As quickly as he’d seen his Master’s emotions, Seven was thrown from the room and back into his own thoughts. He tried again to push into the space but was blocked. Whatever was happening, it was clear the Creator wasn’t about to allow Seven into his inner sanctum. Seven would have to be content to simply listen through the door.

Seven leaned in closer, struggling to make out the muffled sounds. He closed his eyes and focused hard.

“You have failed us for the last time, LeMercier.” The voice was deep, male. And clearly angry.

“What do you mean, failed? Nothing is lost. The experiments can continue.” The Creator spoke in measured tones. “We have everything we need.”

“And what of the Assassin,” a new voice questioned. “You promised she wouldn’t be a problem. She was supposed to have joined you, completed the mission. Instead she is on the loose, out there somewhere.”

Seven had heard this voice before. She had visited the lab once. The Creator had been agitated when she left.

Just like now.

“I am well aware of the Assassin’s whereabouts,” the Creator said. “She poses no threat. When the time is right, she will return to me of her own choice.”

“Can you be sure? Were you not just as certain last time?”

Seven pictured the same frustration on the Creator’s face. “Last time, I—”

The voices quieted, blurred. Seven pressed hard against the door, unable to hear another word. The harder he tried, the less he was able to make out. Only a few strangled words:

“Apprentice . . .”

“. . . will not fail . . .”

“. . . destiny . . . success . . .”

The voices faded completely and Seven edged back from the heavy door, his mind deep in thought.

“Come,” the Creator said, both aloud and through Seven’s thoughts.

Seven straightened, settling his mind before facing the Creator. “Yes, Master. What is my next assignment?” he asked, pretending he’d heard none of his Master’s concerns with the Order.

“You have questions,” the Creator asked. Clearly Seven needed to practice his blocking skills.

“No, Master.”

“You wonder why I am concerned, wonder if you should be concerned as well.”

Yes, Seven needed a lot more practice. “No, Master.”

The Creator scrutinized Seven, touching his thoughts. Seven stilled his body, his mind, everything. He waited until he could feel the Creator withdraw.

The Creator smiled. “Return to your quarters. We will talk tomorrow. This is not the time.”

Before Seven could object, the Creator turned his back, sealing his feelings and thoughts away from the young apprentice.

“Tomorrow,” the Creator said with finality.

“Yes, Master.” Seven returned to his room, a mixture of confusion and apprehension dripping from every pour. Whatever was happening, Seven knew he had to align himself cautiously, had to choose the right side of the impending storm. His survival likely depended on it.

But which side was the right side?

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