Monday, March 11, 2013

Gabrielle Bissett - Sons of Navarus Series & Interview

Thanks for having me here at Page Flipperz today! Since I'm busy getting ready to release the 4th novel in the Sons of Navarus series, Blood Prophecy, I thought I'd answer a few reader questions I've been getting in addition to your questions, Kat. So here goes!
How many books do you plan to have for your Sons of Navarus series?
Well, there are eight Sons, but I'm adding a new character to the group in Blood Prophecy and the story is getting much bigger, so it might be more than just eight.
What inspired you to write this series ?
I wanted to write a vampire series that was different than the very common human vs vampire idea. After readers fell in love with Vasilije in Vampire Dreams, I began to think about what kind of world he'd live in and what kind of hero he'd be, and the Sons of Navarus came from that. The series is a mix of some of my favorite things: vampires, romance, fantasy, and mythology.
Your favourite man lol... (( snickers ))
If you mean my favorite Son, it's got to be Vasilije.
And why !
I think it's because he came first. But I have to admit I fall in love with every hero I write.
Who did your hot covers!
Talina Perkins is the wonderful designer who does my covers. I love them!
And if you had to choose between night and day what would you choose and why?
Night. That's when the vampires come out. ;)
Who will Sasa end up with?
Ah, I can't tell. She loves Vasilije for everything he is, but Thane is a sweetheart and women can fall for that kind of man. To say she's torn would be an understatement.
You've mentioned that there will be other paranormal beings introduced in Blood Prophecy. Can you give us a clue about them?
I want it to be a surprise, but think fire and fangs.
Will every Son make it through to the final ending of the final book in the series?
No. However, that doesn't mean that they won't be an important part of the finale. (Sounds cryptic, doesn't it?)
Do you plan to write more short stories for the Sons series?
I already have two out—Longing and The Deepest Cut—and there will be another two included at the end of the Blood Prophecy ebook. Right now, I don't have any firm plans to write more, but that doesn't mean that can't change. I've had a number of people request a short about Terek, so that could happen.
Do you have trouble writing Marc Verrater and the Archons? They seem so vicious.
They are bad guys. I actually enjoy writing Marc and his mentor, Magistrate Consera. They are pure evil, with Marc being more of a brute and Consera being far more diabolical than even Marc. Marc has some of the funniest lines in the books because he's literally a character without a conscience. That's quite freeing for an author to write.
Can you give us a hint as to what's going to happen in Blood Prophecy?
Well, just a hint. Love, romance, fighting, Archon hunters, battles, new paranormal characters, problems within the Sons, and a turning point in the series.
Thanks for having me here today, Kat! If anyone has any other questions for me, ask away! If I can answer them, I will.
Thanks for stopping by Gabrielle ;) Im sure the ladies will have alot more questions regarding your hot men ;) lol.
For more information on the Sons of Navarus series, readers can visit my website at for excerpts, buy links, character profiles, swag (romance trading cards), and free desktop wallpapers to bring those delicious Sons to your computer. And look for Blood Prophecy coming soon!
Series Order:
Vampire Dreams Revamped (Sons of Navarus Prequel)
Blood Avenged (Sons of Navarus #1)
Blood Betrayed (Sons of Navarus #2)
Longing (A Sons of Navarus Short Story)
Blood Spirit (Sons of Navarus #3)
The Deepest Cut (A Sons of Navarus Short Story)
Blood Prophecy (Sons of Navarus #4) COMING THIS SPRING!

Phantom Harvest - C R Richards Spotlight

Title: Phantom Harvest

          Author: C.R. Richards

            Publisher:  Whiskey Creek Press

            Length:  368 pages

            Sub-Genres:   science fiction/fantasy


      Blurb: Gideon, a half-breed mutant with a surly temper and rotten luck, struggles to scrape a living as a tracker in the desolate territory near the gateway to the human world. Business seems to be picking up when Gideon is approached by a powerful dark elf with deep pockets and a serious problem. Human miners at the dark elf's plant are being taken by an elusive predator. Gideon is pressured to find the killer before word of the disappearances reaches the human world, endangering the tense relationship between their two races. But, nothing is simple this close to the conduit between worlds. Archangel, a ruthless mercenary operating in the secret sectors of mutant society, has set his own deadly game in motion. Surrounded by savage wilderness and cut off from contact with civilization, Gideon must find a way to protect his friends and survive to collect his bounty.



Excerpt 1
Cheap cologne clumsily masking rotting flesh and stale earth crept closer. Gideon swallowed the last gulp of beer and took a deep breath through his mouth. There was no mistaking the stench. It was a calling card, a sensory
announcement for the Graves Brothers. They were ghouls who’d tired of the rotting corpses and drained blood they could steal from their local mortuary. Crime paid well and sometimes it paid in fresh blood.

            Gideon gripped his spoon until it bent under the pressure of his thumb. The Graves Brothers typically didn’t stray far from their territory in the south side of New Athens. Something had dragged them out of their catacombs, onto the transport train and through the Outskirts Territory to land here in Hawthorne.

            Bandaged covered fingers gripped the chair across from Gideon and pulled it slowly away from the table. Doug Graves, head of the family and creep-in-charge, sat down carefully in the chair. His rotting body was covered head to toe in a gray trench coat topped with a fedora. He looked like a Humphrey Bogart movie gone wrong.

            “Gideon, you’re looking good enough to eat.” Doug’s voice grated across the table like dead wood running through a shredder.


Excerpt Two:


Maialen knelt before the flimsy lock on the front door. Its surface was a tarnished brass. Inside its workings, tiny metal sticks fit loosely into place. Pins, Maialen grinned. They might as well have put tape on the door. Her expert finger implants manipulated the old fashioned lock and in moments the door clicked open.

Stale booze and thunderous snoring assaulted her senses the moment she set foot inside. Gideon was stretched across the bed, wearing only his boxers and a worn out under-shirt. In his fist was an empty bottle marked “tequila.”

“Mr. Gideon?” She poked his naked calf with her finger. No response. Maialen moved to the other side of the bed, hoping for a better look at her unusual and reluctant new ally. Black hair fell in unruly strands across his face, hiding his eyes or any reaction to her voice. He was a big man, tall and broad, but his body remained lean despite his recreational drinking. Maialen wouldn’t label him as classically handsome, but his features were appealing.

She was beginning to fear she’d found his dead body until a loud snore vibrated the bed. Maialen stumbled away from his head and back to her original position at his feet. He didn’t stir. Mustering her courage, Maialen pushed at his calf harder. Her incessant tapping finally paid off. Gideon stirred. His eyes blinked open and he looked over his shoulder, giving her a blurry glare.

“Norm didn’t come back to the inn last night.” Maialen folded her arms and took a step back.

“How did you get out of your hotel room? And how the hell did you get in here?” He grumbled.

Camille told me where you were staying, so I came to find you. The lock on your cottage door isn’t a very good one.” She lifted her chin and gave him the most intense, disapproving glare she could muster this early in the morning. “Did you understand me?  NORM IS MISSING.”


Excerpt Three:

This interrogation room wasn’t like a Hollywood set, containing the nice one-way mirrored conference room with the table separating the police from their prisoner. This interrogation room was more like a torture chamber with special tools to encourage mutant prisoners to talk. By the time a skilled human interrogator was finished, he’d know every detail, every piece of information there was to know from his subject. Whether or not the subjects survived wasn’t a priority.

One chair stood in the middle of the blood-stained floor. Nylon straps hung from the surgical steel arm rests and chair back at head level. Ankle braces lay on the floor beside the chair, ready for their next victim.

“Care for a seat?” Peaches asked.

“Not fucking likely,” Gideon said, slowly maneuvering his back to the wall. He’d been through their interrogation sessions before and survived, barely. Nothing was going to get him back in that chair again. They’d have to kill him first.

“Suit yourself.” Peaches shrugged and leaned on the back of the chair. His fingers played with the strap and he smiled. “You don’t like humans very much, do you, Gideon?”

“Now, why would you say that? We’ve spent such quality time together. I remember all those times when Cream tortured me while you asked me questions…that I refused to answer. What’s not to like?”

“I’m hearing a little bitterness on your part. Maybe you’re so angry with my partner and I that you decided to take it out on other humans. A powerful guy like you would have no problems snatching humans and dragging them off somewhere to have a little fun at their expense.”

The accusing eyes lifted from the nylon straps and moved to Gideon’s gaze. There was triumph in his look and a self-satisfied grin on his face. Peaches knew something Gideon didn’t. Something that would wrap up the case and top it with a great big bow.

Buy Links:
Whiskey Creek




About The Author:

Cynthia's literary career began when she interned as a part-time columnist for a small entertainment newspaper. She wore several hats: food critic, entertainment reviewer and cranky editor. A co-author of horror and urban fantasy novels, her first solo fiction project - The Mutant Casebook Series - was published by Whiskey Creek Press in 2013. Cynthia is an active member of Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers and lives in Colorado.


Social Media Links:

FB: authorcrrichards

Twitter: CR_Richards

Author Website:

Publisher Website:




Author post - Sarah Ballance The Last Call & Excerpt

I'd like to welcome Sarah Ballance to Page Flipperz today , to give us a little insight into her Book Last Call. I have had the pleasure of reading many of Sarah's books and have loved them all.
Thanks so much for allowing me a moment to introduce my new release, LAST CALL which is available now for just 99 cents. I’d love to tell you about the story, but it’s an even greater honor to show you what my readers have to say, after which we’ll dig in with the blurb and an excerpt. Thanks so very much for looking in!

“At no point during the story does Sarah back off. She tortures her characters from the very first page to the very last.” – Jess on Amazon

“I enjoy it when a book keeps you guessing right until the end and this one sure does that!” – Rebecca on Amazon

LAST CALL by SARAH BALLANCE is a romantic suspense that will have you clutching your Kindle tighter and tighter as you read. The suspense in this book starts out at the very beginning and propels the reader forward throughout the book. The action is so exciting, you won't be able to sit still when you're reading. If that's not enough to convince you to read this book, how about sexual tension between Rhys Clark and her ex-partner, Nick Massey, that is so well written, you as a reader will be begging for them to come together? BEGGING!” – Sandy on Goodreads

LAST CALL by Sarah Ballance

In a perilous game of trust, a shocking betrayal deals a dangerous hand.

An accidental witness to a murder-for-hire, ex-cop Rhys Clark becomes the target of ruthless killer—one determined to silence her at any cost. Playing dead seems to be the most likely way to stay alive, but when her protection comes in the form of mega-sexy former adversary Nick Massey, Rhys can think of  a few fates worse than death.

Nick Massey may have walked away from his troubles, but he never got past wanting Rhys. Once paired undercover, they’d been nothing but fireworks until a botched assignment ended her career, sending his into a tailspin. Now a mysterious client threatens Nick’s life if he doesn’t keep Rhys safe, but it isn’t until fate takes a critical turn that he realizes the devastating truth: he’s been her greatest threat all along.


Author: Sarah Ballance

Genre: Romantic Suspense

Publisher: For the Muse Publishing, 2013

ISBN 13: 978-0-9889995-0-3

LAST CALL is available from: For the Muse PublishingAmazonBarnes & Noble, and Smashwords (formats: .mobi, .epub, HTML, PDF, RTF, LRF, PalmDoc, and Plain Text). Click here to add to Goodreads or here for reviews.

Cover art by For the Muse Design


Last Call | Excerpt

Rhys Clark swore and jerked her foot from the murky puddle that had just claimed one of her new running shoes. Perfect. The day was now officially perfect.

She blamed Nick Massey.

Blaming him was easy enough. She didn’t know which required more nerve on his part—leaving town or crawling back—but both events left her bitter and raw. And wet, she grumbled inwardly. With the sky spitting rain and the occasional pellet of sleet smacking her face, she should have skipped her evening jog. The street was little more than a concrete alley of shuttered businesses, and the bleak weather amplified the emptiness. But tonight, with Nick hot on her mind, running through the cold was her last ditch effort to return to her senses.

It hadn’t worked.

Another blast of icy air howled through the narrow street. If she hadn’t been standing still, she probably wouldn’t have heard the shouting that followed.

A few months ago, an altercation wouldn’t have been unusual in this part of town. But the whole area was under reconstruction. Local crime dissipated to nothing with the razing of several apartment buildings, and until now Rhys had long found her route to be a place of solace. She glanced around as the voices drew closer and more intense. Rapid footsteps smacked the wet pavement. Then the echo of a gunshot cracked the night.

Where fear left her paralyzed, instinct insisted she get out of sight. She looked around and found an unbroken expanse of concrete wall offering few options. Heart pounding, Rhys ducked into the recessed doorway of a vacant storefront and hoped the deep shadows would keep her concealed.

Terrifying seconds passed. The sound of her own suppressed breath roared in her ears.

Voices came, clearer this time. Close.

“If we screw this up…” The words, terse and hushed, were encapsulated in panic.

“Shut up,” demanded a second voice. “No one messed up. He’s as good as dead.”

“You think you’re going to sell that without a body? We didn’t get paid to lose him.”

“He took one to the gut. He won’t get far. We’ll find him.”

“He’s leaving a
Grunts erupted nearby, followed by the sound of sneakers scuffling on concrete. Then two shots fired, and all sounds of struggle gave way to profane celebration.

In the same instant, a man fell to the sidewalk in front of Rhys. His eyes, sightless and familiar, bore into her.

She cfocus.

She knew him. From where? She couldn’t think.

She glanced to the dead man, and her vision wavered. Panic shifted her world into a screen of jarred pixels, the flashback jagged and severe.

Rhys! Stay with me, Rhys. Do you hear me? Rhys!”

Blood. So much blood.

“Nick.”She touched his face, feeling stubble beneath her fingertips. Then the weight of her arm was too much; as gravity won he slipped away. The world twisted into a sickening spiral until all that was left was his voice, the desperation in his tone bringing warmth to the darkness.


Motion jarred her to the present.

The gunman gestured. “Our witness here is about to have an unfortunate accident.”He raised the weapon, aiming for the kill.
It was a short view down the barrel at point blank range. She expected that.

What she didn’t anticipate was the speed with which hoked a gasp.

A man stepped into her line of sight, his weapon at the ready. Before she could stop herself, she locked eyes with him. Big mistake. The decision threw her into a cloud of emotional shrapnel, the past flying at her in shards. She’d been shot once before.

It hadn’t ended well.

The gunman opened his mouth and formed an ugly grin, his breath coming in visible puffs through yellowed teeth. “Looks like a double header tonight, T,” he said, never taking his gaze off Rhys.

“Whaddya mean?” came the reply. The voice . . . she blinked until the second ma
trail. Blood. We got the big bucks for a clean—”

Shut up.”

A hit? Rhys shuddered, fear scaling her spine. A professional hit would have been silent—something not accomplished by the gunshot or the ensuing conversation—but in this game, experience wasn’t always a prerequisite for willingness to pull the trigger. Two years of undercover work had taught her as much.

So had a bullet.

Rhys froze, waiting for the voices to pass. But luck was not on her side. Rather than drawing away, the footsteps ceased.

“Well, well, well,” said the confident one. “Looks like our little game of hide and seek is over.”

Hope crumbled. The voice was far too close. Had they seen her?

She dared not move. Through her lashes, she saw nothing in her narrow view of the dimly lit street but dirty puddles and the occasional bit of trash plastered to wet pavement. She prayed they didn’t look her way should they walked past.
n shifted into
he pulled the trigger.

Or how quickly the pain hit.

LAST CALL is available from: For the Muse PublishingAmazonBarnes & Noble, and Smashwords (formats: .mobi, .epub, HTML, PDF, RTF, LRF, PalmDoc, and Plain Text). Click here to add to Goodreads or here for reviews.


About Sarah Ballance

Sarah and her husband of what he calls “many long, long years” live on the mid-Atlantic coast with their six young children, all of whom are perfectly adorable when they’re asleep. She never dreamed of becoming an author, but as a homeschooling mom, she often jokes she writes fiction because if she wants anyone to listen to her, she has to make them up. (As it turns out, her characters aren’t much better than the kids). When not buried under piles of laundry, she may be found adrift in the Atlantic (preferably on a boat) or seeking that ever-elusive perfect writing spot where not even the kids can find her.

She loves creating unforgettable stories while putting her characters through an unkind amount of torture—a hobby that has nothing to do with living with six children. (Really.) Though she adores nail-biting mystery and edge-of-your-seat thrillers, Sarah writes in many genres including contemporary and ghostly paranormal romance. Her ever-growing roster of releases may be found on her website.