*A Halloween Scare at My House* by Eric James Spotlight with Giveaway!

A Halloween Scare at My House Series

By Eric James

Illustrated by Marina Le Ray

9781492606123Series Info:

Title: A Halloween Scare at My House

Author: Eric James

Illustrator: Marina Le Ray

Publisher: Sourcebooks Jabberwocky

 

Description:

The perfect gift for every child or kid-at-heart who also loves celebrating the most eerie and thrilling night of the year, theHalloween Scare regional series offers a jaunty tale with a humorous bent—sure to ward off any creature who goes bump in the night in cities and states across the country!

 

Now with 78 titles highlighting different cities, states, and regions in the U.S. and Canada, each book in the Halloween Scare series features art and text created especially for a specific state or city. Fun Halloween creatures and critters haunt your favorite landmarks, including famous sites like the Statue of Liberty in New York, California’s Hollywood sign, the Mackinac Bridge in Michigan, Georgia’s Okefenokee Swamp, Churchill Downs in Kentucky, the San Jacinto Monument in Texas and the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse in North Carolina.

 

With its bouncing rhyme, colorful illustrations, and funny story, the Halloween Scare series is a delightful Halloween adventure for everyone who loves a silly, spooky tale.  It’s perfect for younger readers who can explore their state or city and little learn more about the places and landmarks that make their homes unique.

 

Prepare, if you dare, for a Halloween scare,

A night of pure terror to whiten your hair.

A tale full of sights that are best left unseen. You ready? You sure?

This was my Halloween.

 

About the Author and Illustrator:

 

Eric James is a children’s book author, word tickler, and champion asparagus thrower. You can find him online atwww.ericjames.co.uk. He lives in Bath, England, with his family.

 

Marina Le Ray has had success both as a children’s book illustrator as well as a greeting card designer. She lives and works in Nantes, France.

 

Buy Links:

Available at all major booksellers

 

Rafflecopter Giveaway Link for A Halloween Scare Regional Book of Winner’s Choice:

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/54ca7af7218/

Advertisements

*The Sister Pact by Stacie Ramey* Spotlight with Giveaway!

The Sister Pact

By Stacie Ramey

November 3, 2015; Tradepaper, ISBN 9781492620976

9781492620976-PRBook Info:

Title: The Sister Pact

Author: Stacie Ramey

Release Date: November 3, 2015

Publishers: Sourcebooks Fire

 

Summary:

 

Who holds your secrets?

 

Allie is devastated when her older sister commits suicide- and it’s not just because she missed her. Allie feels betrayed. The two made a pact that they’d always be together, in life and in death, but Leah broke her promise and Allie needs to know why.

 

Her parents hover. Her friends try to support her. And Nick, sweet Nick, keeps calling and flirting. Their sympathy only intensifies her grief.

 

But the more she clings to Leah, the more secrets surface. Allie’s not sur which is more distressing: discovering the truth behind her sister’s death or facing her new reality without her.

 

Goodreads Link:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23510106-the-sister-pact?from_search=true&search_version=service

 

Buy Links:

 

Amazon: http://ow.ly/SqJ3B

Apple: http://ow.ly/SqJnB

Barnes&Noble: http://ow.ly/SqJ6T

BooksAMillion: http://ow.ly/SqJ8P

!ndigo:  http://ow.ly/SqJaB

IndieBound: http://ow.ly/SqJcC

Stacie RamieAbout the Author:

 

Stacie Ramey learned to read at a very early age to escape the endless tormenting from her older siblings. She attended the University of Florida where she majored in communication sciences and Penn State where she received a Master of Science in Speech Pathology. When she’s not writing, she engages in Netflix wars with her children or beats her husband in Scrabble. She lives in Florida with her husband, three children, and two rescue dogs

 

Social Networking Links:

 

Website

Twitter

 

Excerpt from The Sister Pact:

 

Liquid inspiration from the Nyquil bottle makes me feel like I should paint something for Leah. Let her know I get it now. Maybe I didn’t always when she was alive. Maybe I didn’t listen when she tried to tell me things.

I open the door and look out into the hallway. Lights off, TV on downstairs. Mom’s check-out gives me the clear shot I need. In the garage I find the white paint from the trim in my room and the tools and brushes. Everything seems really clear right now. And brilliant. I feel sort of brilliant. Like every part of my brain is working.

Back in my room I shake the can of paint and open it with a screwdriver and hammer, trying hard not to spill it on my hardwood floors. Too late.

My curtains are in the way, so I rip them off the rod. I have to stand on my window bench to reach as high as I need. I start to paint, not knowing what I’m doing until the image forms on the wall, like magic. By the time I’ve painted the point of convergence on my window where the pink diamond goes, I recognize it. I painted it like it was burned into my brain. But I guess I knew all the time even as it materialized. I’ve made Leah’s ring.

I sit back and admire my work. I hope wherever she is, she sees this and knows I’m sorry. A shooting pain goes through my head and my eyes try to adjust to the blinding light the sun throws as it sets. Spiky rays of light come from the sunburst that flashes through my painting, making it seem like it’s alive.

I blink away the brightness and try to let my eyes settle. When I open them again I’m confused. Because I see Leah standing there. Really standing there. I steady my gaze and look again. I’m not imagining it. She’s there, surrounded by light, kind of outlined in it. Like one of my rendering sketches.

I want to reach for her, ask her if she’s really here, but when I blink again, her image disappears and I know it’s just my guilt and my need that’s bringing her to me. Even if she can’t stay.

I close up the paint cans and take them and the medicine bottle downstairs. The paint and tools go back into the garage and the brush gets washed in the sink and left to dry on a bottom shelf of the garage. I turn the water on in the sink and run my hand over its stainless steel surface, careful to wash all the remnants of my painting party down the drain. Finally I wrap the medicine bottle in newspaper and push it to the bottom of the trashcan, making certain that it’s completely covered. One thing Leah taught me was how to hide your party.

When I’m done, I walk back up to my bathroom, and brush my teeth, trying not to look in the mirror too long. As if my crazy would show somehow. I crawl into bed, setting my alarm for the morning. First day of school. I put my hands together in the prayer position and put them under my cheek.

I think about what I just did and try not to worry about what it means. It’s too much allows the headache to creep back in, crouching and ready to spring. I’ll close my eyes and go to sleep, and hope that tomorrow will be okay. I know it’s not what I should be doing. I know I’m copping out, but I can’t help it.

I’m living my life in tiny squares. Checker board moves. I go forward. I go backward. I jump. Each play means something. Each turn matters. The most important thing is to keep moving. To not get jumped. Sometimes a little Nyquil helps that. They don’t call it medicine for nothing.

 

Rafflecopter Giveaway Link (Runs 10/1-11/30 US and Canada only):

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/54ca7af7203/

The Storm by Virginia Bergin Spotlight & Survival Kit Giveaway!!

9781492629795-PRTitle: The Storm

Author: Virginia Bergin

Publisher: Sourcebooks Fire

Synopsis:

Three months after the killer rain first fell, Ruby is beginning to realize that her father might be dead… and that she can’t survive on her own much longer.

But safety comes at a price when Ruby finds herself back in the army camp where she left Darius Spratt, her geeky ex-companion. If Ruby wants to stay, she must keep her eyes- and her mouth- shut. When she uncovers the horrifying truth about the camp she thought was an oasis of safety, she fights back and makes a shocking discovery. One that could mark the end, or the beginning, for them all…

About the Author:

Virginia Bergin works as a writer for TV, eLearning, and corporate projects. Most recently, she has been working in online education, creating interactive courses for The Open University. She lives in Bristol, England.

Finding Virginia online:

http://virginiabergin.com/

https://twitter.com/VeeBergin

**Excerpt**

From Chapter 16 of The Storm by Virginia Bergin

We pull up at a gate. There are no crowds of the useless here. It is just a gate in the middle of nowhere. I will my guts not to lurch, but they ignore me.

“All right, mate?” grins the driver, rolling down his window.

“All right?!” A soldier at the gate grins back. “What you got in there, then?”

“Drunk guy and a kid.”

The gate soldier speaks into his walkie-­talkie: “Exit confirmed.”

“Confirming exit,” a walkie-­talkie voice says back.

“On you go,” says the gate soldier as he steps back and swings open the gate.

“Cards later?” the driver yells.

“Lamb to the slaughter!” the gate soldier yells back.

“We’ll see about that,” the driver laughs to me as we bump out into the night.

It is such a starry, moonlit night—­so bright I can see exactly what the sky is thinking. It is happy to light our way for now, but it is cooking up other plans; a fat slice of sky is already missing, smothered by nimbostratus, a cloud so thick with rain not a single star shines through it. That’s pretty much how my brain feels: dark and deadly. Erm, and dense and dim. Obviously, the plan is to escape… It’s just that the precise details of how I’m going to do that are not known to me.

“He took me to the cleaners last night,” my driver is saying. “Totally skinned me.”

I do not respond. On the track ahead of us, puddles glisten.

“You want in?” the driver asks me.

I glance at him, wishing he’d just shut up so I can think. The driver hates the puddles, swears at them a lot as he tries to weave slowly around them.

“C’mon,” he says, in between a bout of swearing, “you want in on the game? I could get you in.”

A random star in my brain twinkles feebly in the gloom: My enemy’s enemy is my friend. (That’s what my history teacher said when she was trying to explain some of the jaw-­droppingly “as if!” pacts that got made in World War Two.) My enemy’s enemy is my friend.

“High stakes, though,” the driver is saying. “You need serious—­and I do mean serious—­stuff to put on the table. You got that?”

I nod. I am just looking out of the windshield, desperately trying—­trying to think.

“I’m not talking cash, mind. It’s gotta be jewelry—­good stuff—­maybe a nice piece of art. None of that modern nonsense—­”

He swears, then shuts up for a moment as he maneuvers slowly around some more puddles. My enemy’s enemy. I take a deep plasticky-­rubbery breath and then remove my helmet. I am almost certainly going to need to shout, and it will only get in the way.

“Proper paintings, that’s what people like,” he says, and glances at me—­does a shocked double take when he sees that I am just a kid. “I’m a Turner man, myself…” he says, but I can see his brain has moved on to a different subject: me.

No going back now.

I fling open the door and jump out.

“q!” he shouts, braking. “What the q hell do you think you’re doing?!”

What I am doing is scooping up a double handful of puddle water, and I am back at the door in a flash.

“Get out!” I tell him, my gloved hands dripping.

Shaking, they’re also shaking, and my voice has found its natural frightened squeak.

He stares at my hands in horror for 0.1 micrometers of a nanosecond—­then he’s out of the ambulance.

What’s supposed to happen next is I get in and drive off.

What actually happens is the soldier gets out before I can do that, gun waving between me and the driver because he can’t work out what the problem is, only that there is one.

Buy Links:

http://www.amazon.com/Storm-Virginia-Bergin/dp/1492629790/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1443462489&sr=1-1

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-storm-virginia-bergin/1120258801?ean=9781492629795

http://www.indiebound.org/book/9781492629795

http://www.booksamillion.com/p/Storm/Virginia-Bergin/9781492629795?id=6422605348436

    


 **The Ultimate Survival Kit Giveaway**

TheStorm_giftbasket

Giveaway Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/54ca7af7209/