For Her Sister by Lara Sleath

For Her Sister by Lara Sleath
YA Paranormal Suspense
Evernight Teen Publishing / 61,000 words

Eighteen-year-old Bresha blames herself for her younger sister's death. She knew that Arlene was gullible and fragile. Yet she still let her tone-deaf sister meet with Saul Sanderstorm, a record company mogul whose charisma is as big as his temper.
When Arlene is found floating in Camden Lock canal, the police call it suicide. But Bresha knows different. She knows that sleazy Saul is somehow to blame. And so does Arlene's ghost. Why else would she fog up mirrors and trace the letter S for Saul through the condensation on the glass? Now, Bresha has to find a way to prove that Saul's guilty.
When Bresha discovers that Saul is getting a kick out of mentally breaking singers, she wonders if this happened to Arlene. The truth has to be ugly and shocking. Because why else would Saul be prepared to do anything to conceal it?
Bresha faces a choice. Risk her life to unearth the facts. Or drop the case and be forever tormented by her sister's ghost.
Evernight Teen Amazon ARe

Excerpt

Someone was screaming. She realized that it was her. She found herself on her feet. She took off down the path, her breath jagged, her shoes pounding over the gravel. Fire flashed against her legs, as the nettles stung her.
She ran a few more steps. She had to be faster than him. Surely, she was faster. He was paunchy old man. Her feet hit a boulder and she stumbled. She felt his hands on her back. Slam. He pushed her down. A burning pain shot across her cheek, as her face smashed into the gravel.
She scrambled up and ran on. He sprang on her from behind. Again, he brought her down. She twisted around. He threw himself on top of her, his weight crushing her. She reached up and tried to claw his face, but he caught her hands and pinned them down by her sides onto the path.
“You will not to do this to me,” he snarled. “You will not ruin me.”
Bresha tried to speak, but her tongue was frozen. She gazed into his eyes, hoping to reason with him on an unspoken level, human to human. She’d read somewhere that eyes were supposed to be the view point into people’s souls. Now she saw his soul. It looked like the photograph of a cancerous organ on the side of a cigarette packet, black and festering.
He brought his head toward her lips. Was he going to kiss her like he might have been trying to do that day on the couch? She turned her head away, pushing one side of her face into the grit. He’d never kiss her. She’d die before he kissed her.
She felt him bite into her neck. He was giving her a love bite, the sick pig. She screamed as he drew blood.
***

About the author

British born Lara Sleath has been writing stories - on paper and in her head - for as long as she can remember. But gave up on the idea of becoming a writer because she believed that the idea was too far-fetched. Instead she took the only slightly more sensible option of working in the music industry.
But even that proved too dull for Lara. In her mid-twenties, she set off from London with her boyfriend in a battered VW van. Their aim was to drive to India. They arrived a quarter of a year after adventures with warlords and after having seen many mind-blowing sights.
Today, the boyfriend in the beaten-up VW van is Lara's husband. She lives with him and their two children in Vancouver, Canada close to the ocean and the mountains. Lara writes every day surrounded by an army of cats. For Her Sister is her debut novel.
***

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Battered not broken by Charity West

Contemporary/Romance/Young Adult
40K, Evernight Teen Publishing

Who knew falling for a man in Khaki could cause so much trouble?
Battered and bruised, Wren has taken a lot from her father over the years, but when he throws her out of the house, she sees it as a blessing in disguise. She has no job, no home, and never finished high school, but what’s all that compared to a life without abuse? When she starts over in a new town, under a new identity, she makes it her goal to fly under the radar.
New town, new life. Only, there’s a corrupt deputy intent on stealing Deputy Gray Frampton’s family fortune, a slight case of aggravated identity fraud, and a night in the local jail. It’s enough to make any girl’s head spin. Wren Michaels has to find a way not to spend the next three years in jail, warn Gray that Deputy Pritchard is after him, and somehow hold onto the happily-ever-after that is finally within her grasp—assuming Gray wants a felon as his girlfriend. Who knew falling for a man in khaki could cause so much trouble?
Evernight Teen Amazon ARe

14+ due to violence and adult situations

Excerpt

The shadows crept closer as a deep cold settled into my bones. I cowered on the floor of my closet, hidden behind shoes and clothes, as I listened to the slap of flesh against flesh. He’d come home drunk again, even more so than usual, and he’d barely cleared the door before landing the first blow. It was cowardly of me to hide. I should stand up and fight—do something to make him stop. My phone was still clutched in my hand, and my heart pounded in my chest, the thump-thump loud in my ears. I knew I should call 9-1-1 and get help for Mom, but I also knew that even if they arrested him, they’d never keep him. Mom would give the cops some bullshit excuse as to why he was beating her, or say she fell, and then she’d refuse to press charges. If I thought things were bad now, they’d be even worse if he went to jail for the night. We’d lived through that horror once already, and once was more than enough. No one had to tell me my dad was an abusive asshole who thrived on being a bully. I’d experienced it firsthand.
My palms grew slick as I heard my mother’s whimpers and then booted steps coming down the hall. Was I going to be next? The footsteps grew louder, and I heard my bedroom door slam into the wall. I bit my lip to stifle my cry, hoping he wouldn’t find me. He shuffled around my room, his boots clomping and scraping the wood floor as he searched for me. When the closet doors were flung open, I squeezed myself as far into the corner as I could, but I knew it wouldn’t be enough.
An iron grip closed around my arm, his fingers biting into my skin, as he jerked me out of the closet. I stumbled and fell to my knees at his feet, bracing myself for what would happen next. My head was wrenched back, tears stinging in my eyes as he fisted my hair. There was such hatred in his gaze, such contempt, as if he couldn’t even stand to look at me. I’d always done everything he’d ever asked, and still it wasn’t enough. As far as my dad was concerned, I’d ruined his life, and he was going to make me pay for it until I was able to leave this place behind.
“Thought you could hide from me?” he slurred. “Stupid little bitch.”
The slap across my cheek made tears spill down my face, but I ground my teeth together so I wouldn’t make a sound. When he knew he was causing me pain, he seemed to enjoy it more, and I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. He pulled hard until I was standing upright, my hair still clutched in his fist, and then he punched me in the stomach. I folded at the waist, gasping for breath as stars danced in my vision and bile rose in my throat.
“Worthless. That’s what you are.” He kicked out and knocked me to my knees again. “You should be groveling, thanking me for your life. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even be here, you ungrateful shit.”
Yes, because thanking him for the abuse he heaped on me day after day, thanking him for all the hurtful names I’d been called, thanking him for the days I’d had to skip school because I couldn’t hide the bruises—that was exactly what I wanted to do. One day, he would get what was coming to him. I didn’t know how or who would do it, but I knew someday he’d piss off the wrong person and they’d beat his ass until he cried like a baby. And I hoped like hell I was there to see it. I’d kick back with some popcorn and enjoy the show. I hated him. Hated him.
“You think I don’t see the way you look at me?” he demanded. “Well, I’m tired of it. I’m finished with you. My life was better before your mother got knocked up. Ever since she popped you out, you’ve been nothing but a financial drain. Not anymore. You have five minutes to pack your shit and get the fuck out of my house. And if I ever see you again, I’ll make you wish you were never born.”
Like I didn’t already wish that every day of my life. I should thank him for offering me freedom, even if I had nowhere to go. Anything was better than staying here. Plenty of people lived on the streets, so there wasn’t any reason I couldn’t do it, too. It just meant I’d have to find a way to get my GED sooner rather than later. Dropping out of high school hadn’t been the best decision in the world, but when Dad had broken my arm, Mom had thought it would be better than facing questions we couldn’t answer.
He stomped out of the room, and I heard his bedroom door slam. After grabbing a bag out of my closet, I shoved several outfits, underthings, and socks into it. I snatched my toothbrush and hairbrush out of the bathroom and crammed them in there, too. As an afterthought, I grabbed the travel pouch from under the sink that had shampoo, soap, and a razor tucked inside. I didn’t know where I would go to shower, or where I was going to sleep tonight, but I would figure it out. Maybe Mom would let me come home to bathe while Dad was at work a few times a week. Plus, it would give me a chance to check on her.
I zipped up my bag and then grabbed my backpack and purse off the bed. With my keys clutched tight, I walked out of the only home I’d ever known. Mom didn’t say a word as I passed her, and she didn’t try to stop me. Maybe she figured I was better off living anywhere but at home, and she may have been right.

Charity West is a young adult romance author who has always had her head in the clouds. She had her first crush when she was four, and it lasted for six years. Then she quickly fell head over heels for another boy, until she had to move away and leave him behind. Jumping from one boy to another, she finally found a keeper when she was twenty, and she’s been married to him ever since.
By the time Charity was twelve, she was sneaking her mother’s Harlequin romances and reading them in secret when she was supposed to be asleep. Teased throughout middle school and high school for the bodice ripper covers on the books she openly read in class, she knew that one day she wanted to write her own happily-ever-afters.
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Inked by Chris Ledbetter

Inked by: Chris Ledbetter
Series: Terra Sempre Saga, Book 2
Genre: YA contemporary/ fantasy romance
Evernight Teen Publishing / 65k
Release Date: July 1, 2016
You're Not Truly Alive Until You Know What You Would Die For...

Cameron Shade and Farrah Spangled survived a near-death experience together. Now, their us-against-the-world relationship thrives despite pressure from their families, as well as cultural and social obstacles. That is, until Farrah’s father ships her off to private boarding school in Virginia.
Driven by unbearable aches of absence and longing, Cameron and Farrah are lured back inside the cursed sketchbook and the perilous Terra Sempre that siphoned their souls and almost cost them their lives.
Undeterred by a gathering storm of threats and complications, Cameron and Farrah find unlikely allies in both realms, but what Cameron discovers in Terra Sempre might make him want to stay there forever.
Amazon US / Amazon UK / Amazon CA
Evernight Teen / ARe

Teaser

“You actually running?” Farrah asks, biting into an orange. Juice runs down the side of her mouth. If there weren’t so many people out here, I’d help her out with that. She catches me looking and licks her lips.
“I have something for you later,” I whisper.
She mouths back, “I bet you do.” A wicked grin creases her cheeks.
“Back to your question … before you distracted me. No, I hadn’t planned on running. I was just helping Jamison out. You?”
“Show me what you’re made of. Let’s go.”
“Oh, you’re challenging me?”
She props her hands on her hips and arches her perfect brows. “Scared?”
“Oh, girl, you are on.” I grab her hand and drag her playfully over to where J’s classmates are handing out tags. I pick up two. She pins mine on the back of my shirt. The sensation of her fingers working against my upper back sends shivers down my spine. The good kind.
Then she strips out of her hoodie to reveal a navy blue racer-back tank top. She pats her torso to indicate where she’d rather have the tag placed. I gaze into her eyes before sinking past her chest to her taut stomach. I pull the stretchy fabric away from her skin so I don’t poke her with the pins. My fingers graze her fluttering stomach and her breath catches. She bites her lip and closes her eyes, turns her head and smiles. Like she can hide it. When I’m done, I give her a slight tickle.
She wrinkles her nose at me. “Don’t be trying to distract me, mister Cameron. I intend to beat you.”
“Everyone line up!” Jamison calls out on the megaphone.
We arrange ourselves in the middle of the pack. Farrah tips her chin up to me while smoothing her red mane back. The starting gun fires, and the cluster of runners takes off. The path winds among tall pines that stand against the sky like sentinels. Through the first quarter of a mile, Farrah and I hang on to a steady pace. My breathing is good. The second half mile, she increases her pace a bit, but I’m right on her heels. During the second mile, though, she begins to pull away. I rationalize this by convincing myself that I’m saving energy for the kick at the end, except the pace I’m running now is pretty dang fast, even for me. And she’s still five feet or so ahead. She has a mighty sweet running stride. Her hamstrings are the sexiest things known to mankind.
With a mile or so left to go, she glances over her shoulder and kicks into the next gear, crossing the bridge spanning the pond where ducks are fed by passersby. At the half mile to go mark, I launch into as much kick as I have left in the tank. But it’s not enough. My legs are heavy as logs. I simply can’t pick them up and put them down fast enough.
She got me.
I cross the finish line and catch my breath while walking over to the snack table. By the time I get there, Farrah’s waiting for me with an orange wedge in her mouth turned outward. She crooks her finger to beckon me to her. Then she points toward the orange. I can barely contain the giddy level of sensual excitement that wells up. I dart furtive glances all around.
We’re surrounded by school mates, some I recognize, some she knows. A girl catches my gaze and raises her eyebrows. Great. I fidget with the bottom of my shirt, and then clear my throat.
Farrah tips her head to the side and bats her eyelashes. I turn quick peeks over both shoulders, and then I dive in and suck on the orange that’s in her mouth. She leans into me and moans a little. When I’m done, I must have the biggest grin on my face.
“Get a room!” Jamison yells.
OMG! I can’t believe he put me on blast like that. Everyone within ten feet turns toward us. Inside, I’m still grinning like I won a million dollars. On the outside, not so much. I curl my toes up in my shoes and cover my head with a towel to dry off.
Farrah whispers, “God, I probably shouldn’t have done that.”
I turn to her. “At least everyone here is an ally. Or at the least, a marketing nerd.”
She laughs. “Or an art nerd.”
“Yeah, ‘cause there are no glasses-wearing, journalism editors here either.”
Her lips stifle a smile. “You watch your mouth, buddy.”
“You watch it for me.”
“Cheeky.” She nudges my hip and bites into another orange. “By the way, what took you so long back there?”
“Shut up.”

Praise for DRAWN

"Ledbetter successfully makes his fantastic premise very believable... Farrah is a good foil for Cameron, and Ledbetter does a fine job developing their friendship and romantic connection... Because this is not a graphic novel, descriptions are important, and Ledbetter’s finely detailed descriptions serve as effective illustrations for Cameron’s journey.
Inventive, fast-paced fantasy with imaginative settings and engaging characters." ~ Kirkus Reviews

"From the start, I was intrigued with the rare sighting of a young adult male action hero... then, with a quick flip of the switch... Ledbetter takes an innovative turn, with the right amount of creative risk, to amp the story with action-driven, suspenseful, mysterious and romantic elements.
The twist and turns, once started, didn't stop until the end. Lives must be saved. Time is running out. My last wish is that this fantasy adventure hasn't ended." ~Michelle Monkou, USATODAY HEA Blog

"Stunning! Each word was vividly woven together, creating a brilliant read... Art is a huge theme throughout, and the way the author clearly weaves fantasy and real-life scenarios is simply amazing. I couldn't stop reading this once I picked it up. Filled with tender moments, hard decisions Cameron has to make. Drawn was original every step of the way!" BTS Book Reviews

Chris Ledbetter grew up in Durham, NC before moving to Charlottesville, VA in 11th grade. After high school, he attended Hampton University where he promptly "walked-on" to the best drum line in the CIAA. He's worked in various managerial and marketing capacities throughout his life. While teaching high school for six years in Culpeper, VA, he taught business management, business law, marketing, and sports marketing, and also coached football.
He's a proud member of SCBWI (Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators) and a strong supporter of the Need for Diverse Books. As a self-described, young reluctant reader, he writes young adult stories specifically to reach other reluctant readers.
He now lives in Wilmington, NC with his family, including three cats.
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Black Wings by Iryna K Combs

Roane Publishing, 226 pages
M/F fantasy, mystery, romance, sci-fi, drama
Rated 2 flames

A new time. A new planet. A new world. New technologies. Two new humanoid species. A new war.
The two species separate, but in the removal, some of the best are left behind among the worst. Captured and held as slaves, they are treated cruelly for entertainment. Torture. Pain.
Annabel, endures a year of such cruelty, kept alive only by way of syringes which, while healing, cause a greater agony. She discovers a secret held by their leader, and decides to help her own kind by escaping–even if it means a final death, preferable to the life she has endured.
Her escape succeeds, and she joins her own kind at the other end of the planet. Among her new friends she meets many who help her adjust to their happier life. Will Annabel find romance? Or will another war break her down?

Available now in ebook, only at Amazon for 99¢ for a limited time!
Price goes up to $2.99 on March 23rd, then $2.99 on March 25th
RoanePublishing
Goodreads

Excerpt
Annabel stopped at the end of the pier, and covered her face with her hands as tears rolled down her cheeks. That emotional moment had triggered memories from the Old Land and the Varkins. She remembered Kate, and how she had promised her freedom but was not able to keep that promise. She remembered her family she had lost, and her boyfriend who’d betrayed her. She wished the Big Change had never happened and she was still a human, with her family and friends. She thought she missed the Old Land, even the Varkins. She would never have thought she would think again about that dark place. Annabel stood at the pier and cried as the wind was blowing her tears away. She heard footsteps approaching her from behind.
"Excuse me?" One of the fishermen was talking to her, a crying stranger. "Something happened? Do you need help?"
"No...Nothing," Annabel replied and turned away.
"I know we don’t know each other," he continued, "but I have never seen an Anlight with black wings crying on the pier, so I wanted to make sure you were okay."
Annabel couldn’t say anything to him as she knew she was not okay.
"My name’s Robin," he introduced himself. "I come here sometimes when I feel sad too. I very well know this..."
"Why would you feel sad?" Annabel whispered, not looking at him. "Isn’t this a paradise here?"
"It is what you make it to be," he replied. "But I have my sad days too...I lost my son before we Anlights came to the New Land and I didn’t know what happened to him. He just disappeared right before we had to leave the Old Land."
Annabel opened her eyes and her heart jumped as she turned to look at the Anlight who was talking to her. He was tall, wearing dark pants and a brown shirt, holding his fishing pole in his right hand. Annabel looked at him for a moment and her eyes widened when the moon appeared from behind scudding clouds and she saw his face in its light. He looked so familiar she was...she knew the reason for his son's disappearance. She turned away from him hiding her emotions.
"What was his name?" she asked quietly, predicting the answer.
"Markus!" he said. "I called him Mark. He looked a lot like me."
Annabel closed her eyes and took a deep breath, knowing exactly what had happened to him. She bit her bottom lip, trying to hold tears from washing out of her eyes.
"He was about your age..." the fisherman continued, happily talking about his son, "Very brave young Anlight. Sometimes even too brave for his own good."
Annabel stood quietly, trying to calm down. She took another deep breath. She knew his son was that brave Anlight who had been doing most of the talking when they were first captured by Varkins.
"I know what happened to him," she whispered, wondering if she should even tell him the truth. Her voice began to shake.
"Oh, you do?" The fisherman sounded curious—after all, how she could possibly know?
"I was there too...I was with him...and others..." Annabel spoke while catching her breath, trying her best to talk normally without giving in to her emotions. "Nobody lived..." she finished as more tears quietly ran down her face.
"Nobody?" he questioned, needing to be sure.
"Only me..." She finally could not take it anymore and burst into tears, sniffing and catching her breath.
The fisherman sighed and put his head down, in sadness for his son—even though he had already accepted his disappearance and possible death. He came close to Annabel.
"I knew one day I would know the truth.” He spoke calmly, and with sorrow. “Thank you for coming here tonight."
"I am sorry about your loss," Annabel sobbed harder with every word said. "He and others were in a lot of pain...and those who died…were the lucky ones. They are in peace now and will not feel any pain again."
The fisherman took a step closer and put his hand on her shoulder. He smiled slightly.
"Sometimes it’s hard to accept what happens to us. Sometimes the reality seems too much for us to take. But we would not appreciate the good if we did not know the bad. We are writers of our own lives, and we decide when to close a chapter, and when to start the new one."
Annabel wiped cold tears from her cheeks as she looked at him.
"Cheer up," he continued. "You’re the lucky one! You can continue writing your life." He paused for a moment. "And I need to get back to my wife...fish for dinner!" He laughed, picking up a small bucket full of fresh catch. He walked slowly back along the empty pier, disappearing in the darkness.
Annabel stood on the pier for a while longer, thinking about what he had said. She calmed down, as the wind picked up and she began to get cold. She returned to the car and drove back to her house. When she pulled up, nobody seemed to be there. She looked around as she walked to the porch door, hoping nobody was waiting for her. Annabel entered her house and locked the door behind her. She was just going to call her cousin about her visit when, again, someone knocked on the porch door. Annabel recalled what had happened before, and was not in the mood to continue talking about her own or Dexter's relations. She crossed to the door and moved the blinds to see who was knocking. However, as soon as she saw it was Dexter outside, she slid the door open.

Originally from the Ukraine, I am still considered a new face to America. Speaking three languages including English, that became just as natural to me as my native Russian.
I grew up in a town on the south of Ukraine doing the same things that other kids my age did. Dreaming, hoping and wishing. Growing up, I spoke absolutely no English and never even saw myself somewhere abroad. Nevertheless writing a novel in another language!
I went to the local school that brought mostly negative experience in my life. But it shaped me throughout the years. My college life was much better. I was known to study well and to go out partying as much as it was possible.
In my first year of college I began to work in the marriage agency and met my future husband. We dated and traveled to most of the Europe along with Egypt.
When I finally got my fiancée visa, we both moved to the states, where soon after, got married. In the first few years I did some modeling and acting. Photo-shoots, run-way and photo in the magazine fulfilled my childhood's dream.
A few years later I became a mother of a wonderful and most handsome little boy. Along with learning and experiencing motherhood, I began to make hand-made jewelry and organic soaps. This hobby turned into my small business and became bigger than I thought it would.
In the last year I discovered: an author lives inside me. Never did I think that I would write an English book and that I would love doing it. But I did! And I loved it!
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