Listing Category
About
Check out her website where Elaina unlocks the mysteries and beautiful parts of life, mostly related to writing. She talks about pop music, books, friendship, support, rejection, Earth, and being Italian. Pre-1987 Fleetwood Mac live performances is one way I dig for ideas. Really, it works with any live music performance, but let’s take baby steps and start with Gold Dust Woman. Am I going to write about the performance like a journalist? Heck no. Am I going to document every movement by Stevie and Lindsey? No. I am just going to watch and think about what the story is.
Website
Search Tags
Name
Listing Category
About
Justine Manzano is a YA author and freelance editor living in Bronx, NY with her husband, son, and a cacophony of cats. Her novel, The Order of the Key will be available from Black Rose Writing in July 2020. She can normally be found at her website, www.justinemanzano.com,and she’s on all the usual social media haunts. If you’ve looked in all these places and can’t find her, she’s probably off reading fanfiction. She’ll be back soon.
Excerpt or Current Works
From The Order of the Key:
In my dreams, I ran with my father.
Or at least I thought it was my father. I never had the chance to meet him before he took off and kept on running, right away from Mom, from me, from kissing away boo-boos, and sneaking me cookies from the cupboard when Mom wasn’t looking. Or whatever it was people did with their dads. I wouldn’t know.
But in the dream, we were together. His voice light and teasing, an Irish brogue, an accent unlike anyone else’s in my life. He prodded me to hurry, to run faster, to keep up with him.
The air was clear and we didn’t run on a track. Our feet snagged on fallen tree limbs and slick patches of wet leaves, through the clearing in a forest I didn’t recognize. We would take off, so fast it was like flying.
It wasn’t real. For one thing, nobody moved that way. I wasn’t The Flash, though that would be awesome. For another, I’d lived in Bronx, New York my entire life, and the only stretch of open green space like that in the Boogie Down was the Botanical Garden or the Zoo. They didn’t just let you blast through the trees there.
In The Bronx, there were track meets on asphalt schoolyards, or wood gym floors with bad polish jobs. Which was where I pressed my fingertips, my heels resting on the starting blocks, waiting impatiently for the whistle to blow.
Maybe that dream was why I loved this so much.
If I won this eight-hundred-meter race, I’d get the sweet spot in the first city-wide competition of the school year. I rocked up onto my toes and back down.
I could do this.
In my dreams, I ran with my father.
Or at least I thought it was my father. I never had the chance to meet him before he took off and kept on running, right away from Mom, from me, from kissing away boo-boos, and sneaking me cookies from the cupboard when Mom wasn’t looking. Or whatever it was people did with their dads. I wouldn’t know.
But in the dream, we were together. His voice light and teasing, an Irish brogue, an accent unlike anyone else’s in my life. He prodded me to hurry, to run faster, to keep up with him.
The air was clear and we didn’t run on a track. Our feet snagged on fallen tree limbs and slick patches of wet leaves, through the clearing in a forest I didn’t recognize. We would take off, so fast it was like flying.
It wasn’t real. For one thing, nobody moved that way. I wasn’t The Flash, though that would be awesome. For another, I’d lived in Bronx, New York my entire life, and the only stretch of open green space like that in the Boogie Down was the Botanical Garden or the Zoo. They didn’t just let you blast through the trees there.
In The Bronx, there were track meets on asphalt schoolyards, or wood gym floors with bad polish jobs. Which was where I pressed my fingertips, my heels resting on the starting blocks, waiting impatiently for the whistle to blow.
Maybe that dream was why I loved this so much.
If I won this eight-hundred-meter race, I’d get the sweet spot in the first city-wide competition of the school year. I rocked up onto my toes and back down.
I could do this.
Website
Price Range
.006 cents per word for proofreading to .010 for a developmental edit
Search Tags
Name
Listing Category
About
Mallory Kelly is an independent author specializing in thriller and horror. Her first series, Clown Conspiracy, is four 90-minute serial killer thrillers described as a "nightmare come to life." Keep reading below for an excerpt from her first book!
Excerpt or Current Works
(Excerpt from “Dead End” – Clown Conspiracy Book 1)
It rained for three solid days before the murder. Maybe what the murderer wanted was an icy canvas—corn stalks frozen into thick clay where blood spreads far and pools slow.
Maybe he pictured it, saw the security guard slip in the frozen blood. Thirsty, summertime dirt would have sucked the blood into the cracks—not where he wanted to lay out his first body. Wet clay, icy clay—that’d be the place.
Maybe, if it hadn’t rained, the victim would have settled into an Autumn evening of studying instead of a silent thaw in the county morgue.
Or maybe the murderer just had his heart set on ripping someone open October 28th and would have done so in rain, snow, or the clear light of a cold moon.
Whatever his desire, the 28th dawned with wind, clouds, and ice, and ended with a laughter more cold than any of these.
Maybe that was all he wanted, at first—a laugh. One night of blood-soaked earth for one really great chuckle. One thing was, without a doubt, not a “maybe”: after that first day, that first great laugh, someone was going to have to stop him.
It was just too good a joke to stop telling.
It rained for three solid days before the murder. Maybe what the murderer wanted was an icy canvas—corn stalks frozen into thick clay where blood spreads far and pools slow.
Maybe he pictured it, saw the security guard slip in the frozen blood. Thirsty, summertime dirt would have sucked the blood into the cracks—not where he wanted to lay out his first body. Wet clay, icy clay—that’d be the place.
Maybe, if it hadn’t rained, the victim would have settled into an Autumn evening of studying instead of a silent thaw in the county morgue.
Or maybe the murderer just had his heart set on ripping someone open October 28th and would have done so in rain, snow, or the clear light of a cold moon.
Whatever his desire, the 28th dawned with wind, clouds, and ice, and ended with a laughter more cold than any of these.
Maybe that was all he wanted, at first—a laugh. One night of blood-soaked earth for one really great chuckle. One thing was, without a doubt, not a “maybe”: after that first day, that first great laugh, someone was going to have to stop him.
It was just too good a joke to stop telling.
Website
Search Tags
Amazon Link
Name
Listing Category
About
Mark blogs about typographical errors and homophone errors that create invisible spelling errors in books. Mark also collect links for blogs that authors find useful. He also promotes books and authors with the only live interview for authors on the internet.
As a Proofreader, Mark finds the spelling errors others miss, including computer spellcheckers. Reading over 50 books a year, Mark has found, on average, one book a year without spelling errors.
As a Proofreader, Mark finds the spelling errors others miss, including computer spellcheckers. Reading over 50 books a year, Mark has found, on average, one book a year without spelling errors.
Website
Search Tags
Name
Listing Category
About
Matthew is the author of the Novels Sands of the Fire God
Excerpt or Current Works
Refugees of an intergalactic war find asylum on the ancient home world system of the Amalakoori, race long retired from from Galactic affairs and long considered extinct.
Forced to forge new lives, civilisations and theologies, without the aid of high technology or magic, for millennia, lost in a remote corner of the Galaxy the refugee's fight and war upon each other, reverting to Feudal states and the politics of Empires.
The prohibition against technology and magic, along with the protection offered by giant warded cities left by the Amalakoori, the peoples of these new Empires are safe from discovery by the Demons of the Cataclysm.
The old worlds are soon forgotten, left only as legends and myths. But a new force has emerged in the galaxy, a savage iron age race with mastery of the ancient World gate system and stolen magic is bent on revenge and galactic hegemony. Building a bloody Federation of colonised planets from the shattered remnants of a thousand lost and broken civilisations, the Tular overlords lust for expansion and an relentless genetic drive for revenge against the Demons that devastated their world, eventually leads them to the Obsidian Gate, the only link to the Amalakoori worlds, and as the Tular believe, the original source of the Demons.
But the refugee worlds are not like the other worlds, ten thousand years of war and empire building have prepared an enemy unlike the Tular, or their enslaved beast of war, have previously faced. New races, monsters, species and worlds.
Forced to forge new lives, civilisations and theologies, without the aid of high technology or magic, for millennia, lost in a remote corner of the Galaxy the refugee's fight and war upon each other, reverting to Feudal states and the politics of Empires.
The prohibition against technology and magic, along with the protection offered by giant warded cities left by the Amalakoori, the peoples of these new Empires are safe from discovery by the Demons of the Cataclysm.
The old worlds are soon forgotten, left only as legends and myths. But a new force has emerged in the galaxy, a savage iron age race with mastery of the ancient World gate system and stolen magic is bent on revenge and galactic hegemony. Building a bloody Federation of colonised planets from the shattered remnants of a thousand lost and broken civilisations, the Tular overlords lust for expansion and an relentless genetic drive for revenge against the Demons that devastated their world, eventually leads them to the Obsidian Gate, the only link to the Amalakoori worlds, and as the Tular believe, the original source of the Demons.
But the refugee worlds are not like the other worlds, ten thousand years of war and empire building have prepared an enemy unlike the Tular, or their enslaved beast of war, have previously faced. New races, monsters, species and worlds.
Search Tags
Name
Listing Category
About
Suzanne Miller is a debut author with Inked in Gray Press. Tattooed Daughter is where I house my creative work and recommendations.
Excerpt or Current Works
"TALKS ( A poem)
I talk to you.
most mornings when I’m walking alone
with my dog in the woods.
I feel your hand on my cheek
in the sun’s rays beaming down.
And I say things I’m not sure you heard
while you were alive.
That I love you, that I understand,
that I know, mostly that I know.
I know life is not easy, not for you
not for me, not for anyone and in this
I’m grateful you’d even embark on giving life
to someone else, even consider sharing a world
that had been so harsh to you in hopes
it could be better for us.
This is what a mother does:
sends their hope out in the form of their baby.
I like these talks we have, mom.
In the mornings with the feel of my feet touching ground,
and my heart touching eternity.
I like your replies.
Always ” I love you.”
Never anything more"
I talk to you.
most mornings when I’m walking alone
with my dog in the woods.
I feel your hand on my cheek
in the sun’s rays beaming down.
And I say things I’m not sure you heard
while you were alive.
That I love you, that I understand,
that I know, mostly that I know.
I know life is not easy, not for you
not for me, not for anyone and in this
I’m grateful you’d even embark on giving life
to someone else, even consider sharing a world
that had been so harsh to you in hopes
it could be better for us.
This is what a mother does:
sends their hope out in the form of their baby.
I like these talks we have, mom.
In the mornings with the feel of my feet touching ground,
and my heart touching eternity.
I like your replies.
Always ” I love you.”
Never anything more"
Search Tags
Name
About
Hi, I'm Taryn from Cape Town, South Africa.
I am a Blogger. Author. Photographer. Doer of many things. I have a dedicated section for book reviews (no non-fiction, politics, or religion), but am currently taking a break from doing reviews.
I am a Blogger. Author. Photographer. Doer of many things. I have a dedicated section for book reviews (no non-fiction, politics, or religion), but am currently taking a break from doing reviews.
Search Tags
Name
About
I am a full-time busy body and part-time imagination conjurer. I live on the amazing Eyre Peninsula in South Australia, having moved here from my hometown in New Zealand. My family consists of my adorable and patient husband, two rampant boys and too many pets to mention.
I have a wonderful set of amazing writers who support me in the form of Eyre Writers, and in return, I offer crowd control services for the Youth section who are the future best-selling authors.
I have a wonderful set of amazing writers who support me in the form of Eyre Writers, and in return, I offer crowd control services for the Youth section who are the future best-selling authors.
Excerpt or Current Works
The Secret Life of Sarah Meads – "Fans of Bridget Jones are in for a treat with this story of a stale marriage that goes painfully–and hilariously–awry. Sarah Meads is married, working mum, but life hasn't been as well, happy as what it should be. Enter the meddling Antonio who wants to give Sarah a push for his own reasons and what follows is a journey of self-discovery and letting go." – Kathryn White, Author/Blogger
Coming soon!
Vital Impetus – a fantasy romance novella – written as part of a box-set with other Inkspell Authors
The Risky Business of Romance – October 2020 – Romantic suspense set in rural Australia about a woman trying to escape from her past and the man who tries to save her.
Trade Secrets – December 2020 – Hilarious rom-com about the difficulties of office romance and espionage
Coming soon!
Vital Impetus – a fantasy romance novella – written as part of a box-set with other Inkspell Authors
The Risky Business of Romance – October 2020 – Romantic suspense set in rural Australia about a woman trying to escape from her past and the man who tries to save her.
Trade Secrets – December 2020 – Hilarious rom-com about the difficulties of office romance and espionage
Website
Price Range
0.99-Up
Search Tags
You May Also Find My Work Here
Amazon Link