(The Grim Trilogy #1)
Publication date: May 30th 2016
Genres: Paranormal Romance, Young Adult
The truck should have turned Libbi Piper into a Libbi pancake, but a mysterious boy named Aaron saved her life. The problem? Aaron’s the local Grim Reaper. The bigger problem? He saved Libbi’s life so she can take over his job.
Libbi has just days to choose between dying like she was supposed to or living a lonely life as Death Incarnate. The choice only gets harder when she learns Aaron’s reasons for wanting out of the whole morbid business. Basically, his job sucks.
Still, when Aaron looks at her, there’s something more in his eyes. Something dark and secret. Something he’s hiding. Libbi will be damned if she’ll die without figuring it out. And she’ll be damned if she lets him go.
The creep is back.I may not be able to see him, but I know he’s here, somewhere. Call it intuition. Or maybe it’s just the eerie memory of when the guy stared me down last night. I don’t know, but I’m not taking any chances.
I hunch over my history final and release my thick hair from behind my ears. It swings forward like a dark-brown curtain and hides my face.
Show’s over, buddy.
I can’t look around, not with Mr. Winkler on “cheater duty.” Hopefully, the guy will get bored and go wherever the hell he went last night when he took off.
The final is what’s important. I need to focus on this test.
I read the next question on the page, but the loser’s gaze bores through my dark shield of hair and my arms erupt in gooseflesh. Before I can skim the multiple choice answers, my eyes betray me and shoot up to scan the classroom.
Mr. Winkler sits at his desk scratching at some poor schlub’s paper with his red pen of doom. His bald head gleams in the harsh fluorescent light. God, I hope it’s not my paper he’s destroying. I can’t afford another bad grade in this class.
I quickly scan the rest of the classroom through the part in my hair, but everyone is working. Eerie feeling or not, nobody’s looking at me.
But I know someone is watching. Just like last night, I can feel his stalker stare.
This is ridiculous. I shake my head and rub my arms to dispel the goose bumps. This guy has freaked me out so much I’m imagining his eyes on me now. I don’t have time for this. I have an exam to finish.
The tip of my pencil hovers over the letter C, and something in my peripheral vision shifts. I snap my head up and finally see him.
The guy I caught staring at me at the art show last night, the guy who warned me something bad was going to happen to me today, stands at the tiny rectangular window in the door. He tilts his head and his ice-blue eyes lock on mine, sending a shiver through my body.
Shake it off, Libbi, I tell myself. He’s just a crazy boy with a crush.
Actually, with his tousled black hair and his nose pressed against the glass like that, he looks a little like a lost puppy. If he wasn’t so creepy, I’d almost feel sorry for him. But couldn’t he choose a better time than the middle of my history final to eyeball me? Plus, he said he wanted to talk to me alone, and this is most certainly not alone.
I point to my partially finished test and mouth, “Final exam.”
He nods. A half-smile lifts the corners of his lips.
“Bye.” I wave my hand.
“I need to talk to you,” he mouths.
“No,” I reply, but he continues to stand at the door.
Dude, catch a clue already. I spin away from the door, sneak a peek at Mr. Winkler, and shove the eraser of my pencil between my teeth. I yank the eraser out of its metal holder and flick it at the back of Haley’s head. Her chair squeaks as she jumps and whips around to glare at me.
“What?” she whispers.
“Look.” I point over my shoulder with my pencil to the classroom door. “That crazy guy I told you about is at the window.”
We turn to the door together, but the window’s empty. He must be a shy creeper.
“Where?” Haley says.
“Never mind. He’s gone.” I slump back in my chair. At least I can finish my test in peace.
Elizabeth Holloway is a writer of young adult fiction living in Southern Pennsylvania with her two teen children and their growing number of pets.
In addition to writing, she is a registered nurse, an avid reader, an out-of-practice artist, a karaoke singer, and a music lover. She is still trying to decide what she wants to be when she grows up.
The Burning Star
Jessie Lane, M.L. Pahl
Genres: Paranormal, Young Adult
Seventeen-year-old Kay’s journey of a lifetime started in the woods where she met a beautiful man … along with a monster. The chance encounter led her to an unbelievable world that shouldn’t have existed, a place where myths and fairytales were real and, in some cases, deadly.
Kay knew she would have to brave this new world if she hoped to find a cure for her terminal cancer.
With a strange yet beautiful cast of characters, Kay uncovered truths that would change her life forever. However, before it was all over, she discovered she wasn’t the only one with problems.
Yet another seventeen-year-old young woman was fighting for her life.
Kira had grown up in a magical world. Despite this, her life had not been filled with many good things. She considered her empty, emotional solitude the only positive aspect of her life and fought daily battles to escape abuse and torture.
Trained to be an expert assassin, she was charged with kidnapping Kay and delivering her to Kira’s master, Lord Donovan.
As the two young women set forth on their journeys, their paths would cross in unimaginable ways. There was only one question that remained: who would come out alive?
The Frozen Star
Jessie Lane, M.L. Pahl
Genres: Paranormal, Young Adult
The journey continues …
Kay discovered secrets, lies, shocking truths, and even love in a strange new world hidden from humans. Everything she thought she knew was turned upside down when she found out three things: she wasn’t human; she had a power she couldn’t control; and there was a possibility she might have found a way to cure her deadly cancer by using that very same power.
Just when she was on the precipice of gaining everything she wanted and saving her own life, tragedy struck. Would she be able to fight her way back to Ryan and save herself in the process?
Kira had lived a terrifying life of servitude and abuse under Lord Donovan and his son, Cole. It was an existence that had stripped away her emotions and reasons to keep fighting.
Just when she thought freedom was within reach, Lord Donovan struck again, ruining her plans and almost killing her. When she awoke from her injuries, it was to stunning revelations that would change her life forever, changes she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted.
Persistent individuals, such as Prince Kane, refused to let her walk away, though. Would she embrace all of her sudden fortune? Or would she walk away from those who needed her most, forsaking their acceptance and love?
WARNING: This is a upper ya/young adult/new adult fictional story that includes some explicit language, graphic violence, and mild sexual situations. Recommended for ages sixteen and up.
*This book is a re-release and revision from the original book published in 2012. Please be aware that some things have been added, deleted or changed.*
THE BURNING STAR SNEAK PEEK:I stood there frozen, knowing that I would probably die because of this wretched creature, when all of a sudden I saw the quick movement of an arm bringing down the point of the knife, slicing towards the large creature’s skull. The animal’s enraged screams ripped through the woods surrounding us.
My brain tried to analyze what was happening before me as I stood still as a statue and watched as the monster started to crumble away like something that had been burnt from the inside out and then fell apart.
This can’t be real.
I looked up from the ashes into the face of an angel.
He’s not an angel; he’s just a guy. Right?
He was staring at me as if he had just seen me sprout a second head. I was staring back at him like he was somehow related to those alien birds outside my window. My mouth flapped open to scream again, but before a sound could escape, the world faded to black, and I fainted.
At least I didn’t scream again.
When I opened my eyes, two ethereal blue eyes were staring back at me. My head was throbbing like a bass drum in a marching band, and it felt like my head might split in two from the pounding headache.
“Are you okay?” he asked me, his voice strong but sweet.
Before I could stop my mouth from saying anything ridiculous, I replied, “Are you an angel? Did I finally die and go to Heaven?”
He bellowed a laugh while I blushed a shade that was more than likely lobster red. I smacked myself in the forehead and tried to hide my face behind my hand. What a brilliant way to make a first impression on an extremely hot guy. That’s when it hit me.
The past few moments of events flooded my brain again and I started to panic.
“Wait a minute! What was that thing and how in the world did it just, just—”
“The dog? I had to cut it with my knife to scare it away. It wasn’t a mortal wound though. He took off through the woods to escape. Sorry if you’re one of those animal lovers, but I was afraid it might kill one of us.”
I shook my head to try to clear it. “No, no, no, no. That was no dog. Well, it was at first, but then it became something else. It was black and huge and had those red eyes…”
Before I finished my sentence, I looked up at him to see complete shock and amazement on his face. I had never seen anyone look so bewildered.
“Don’t look at me like that! I know what I saw! Now what was that thing and what happened to it? It didn’t run off; I saw you kill it. And I would point to the body to prove it, but it, well, it fell apart or something.”
In a split second, the shock had disappeared from his handsome face, replaced by something more masked and calculating. “I’m sorry, but you’re quite mistaken. I didn’t kill it. I only wounded it. And it was a dog. Are you sure you didn’t hit your head or something? I’m afraid you might be having some kind of hallucination.” Somehow, when he said it, it didn’t seem as scary or grotesque as it did when I played what I saw back in my head.
Jessie Lane is a best-selling author of Paranormal and Contemporary Romance, as well as, Upper YA Paranormal Romance/Fantasy. She lives in Kentucky with her two little Rock Chicks in-the-making and her over protective alpha husband that she’s pretty sure is a latent grizzly bear shifter. She has a passionate love for reading and writing naughty romance, cliff hanging suspense, and out-of-this-world characters that demand your attention, or threaten to slap you around until you do pay attention to them. She’s also a proud member of the Romance Writer’s of America (RWA).
(The PSS Chronicles #4)
Publication date: June 15th 2016
Genres: Paranormal, Thriller, Young Adult
Olivia Black does not feel safe. Nightmares plague her sleep and haunt her days. If she has to endure one more minute stuck in a safe house in rainy Portland, she’s going to lose it. When Mike Palmer sneaks off to find her sister Kaylee without her, it’s the last straw. She has to do something.
Then Palmer’s hackers find the Dome on a satellite feed: dark, abandoned and smack in the middle of the Oregon desert three hundred miles from where it started. If they can reach it before anyone else, they can crack the computer systems and access every piece of information on PSS the CAMFers and The Hold have ever collected.
But in order to do that, Olivia must return to the origin of her fears in a race against all the forces that have ever pitted themselves against her. She must unravel decades of deceit to reveal the true origins of Psyche Sans Soma to the world at last.
**Grab Ghost Hand (book 1) for FREE! Plus, book 2 & 3 are on sale for 99cents – until the end of June only!**
“Olivia!” My mother’s voice jolted me awake.I sat up in the rental van’s passenger seat, wiping drool from my cheek. Chase and T-dog’s Westfalia had stopped in front of us at a massive gate rising out of the darkness, topped with barbed wire and sporting several Danger: High Voltage and No Trespassing on Federal Land signs.
We had arrived at Umatilla, and I’d fallen asleep, like I always did in a moving vehicle, before I’d explained to my mother that I’d lied about our destination. We were not on a scenic over-nighter up the Columbia River Gorge. That had just been a cover story.
“Olivia Anne Black,” she said, pointing at the gate. “What is that?”
“Um—I don’t know,” I stammered. “We must have taken a wrong turn.”
“Is this the motel?” Grant asked groggily from the back. It sounded like I wasn’t the only one who’d taken a nap.
“No, it’s not,” my mother answered testily. “What the hell is he doing?”
She was referring to T-Dog, who had gotten out of their van carrying something bulky under his arm. When he set it down and started fiddling with a controller in his hands, I realized it was one of those personal drones. Suddenly, the little thing lit up and went whirling into the air, kicking up dust and flying over the gate. On the other side, it dipped down and stopped, a green light flashing on its undercarriage as it hovered over some kind of control panel. As I watched, a green light began flashing on the panel too, like they were communicating with one another. Because they were. T-dog was hacking into Umatilla. He was breaking into a federally-owned chemical depot.
I could feel my mother turning toward me, a question in her eyes, her lips parting to ask it.
Headlights, high and wide, flashed in the rearview mirror, blinding me. They were barreling down on us, but I only heard the rev of the engine just before the crunch of impact.
The whole van jerked forward, shoving us toward the back of the Westfalia and stopping only inches from its rear bumper.
“What the—?” Grant yelled, and I heard cries of alarm from Passion and Samantha.
My seatbelt dug into my waist and my shoulder, but the airbags hadn’t deployed, so that was good.
In front of us, T-Dog scrambled back into their van and slammed his door. The gate started to open, the drone hovering on the other side, still blinking green.
There was another crunching sound and a slight tug backwards. Then, more revving.
“Hold on. They’re coming again,” my mother said, jamming the van into drive and laying on the horn like a mad woman. We couldn’t go anywhere. The Westfalia was right in front of us and some lunatic was behind us, gearing up to rear-end us a second time.
“We have to go through,” I told my mom, gesturing at the gate.
“I know,” she said, glaring out at the windshield and revving our engine now. “Get out of my way, you two. What are you waiting for?” she mumbled under her breath, laying on the horn again and not letting up.
The vehicle behind was almost upon us. I could hear it coming.
Up ahead, T-dog glanced at me in his side view mirror, but it was too dark to read his expression. Had he and Chase set us up? Was this their doing?
The gate was open wider now, maybe wide enough for the Westfalia, but would it be enough for our bigger van?
“Hold on,” my mom said, glancing in the rearview mirror and slamming her foot on the gas.
I braced myself, this time for impact from the back and front, but it didn’t come.
We surged forward, gently kissing the back bumper of the Westfalia, both of us racing through the still opening gate. I heard a horrible sound, metal screeching against metal, and sparks flew in a shower away from us as the huge closures of the gate scraped down both sides of our van.
As soon as we were free and clear, Chase veered off to the right and pulled to a stop. As we drove past, I could see T-Dog holding the drone remote out his window, working it frantically, trying to close the gate before our attackers made it in. But he wasn’t fast enough. The pick-up truck that had rear-ended us roared forward, squeezing through just like we had. For a moment, I thought it had a really weird hood ornament, but then I realized it was the drone, flying low and toward us in front of the truck.
“Get higher,” I murmured to the little thing. As if hearing me, it did, rising above the front of the truck only to plummet a second later just as the vehicle overtook it.
And then it was gone, sucked under the huge wheel of the big truck with a soft crunch and a shower of shrapnel spraying from its undercarriage.
“Stop the van,” I told my mother, but she’d already turned and was pulling up alongside the guys.
“Who is that?” I shouted out my window at Chase, pointing at the truck as it pulled up, headlights blinding us all, the gate clanging shut behind it.
“I have no idea,” he shouted back. “But I think we’re about to find out.”
A truck door slammed.
A dark form moved, crossing the dusty swathe of its high beams, and a man emerged, tall, wrinkled, and tan, a long rifle dangling from his right hand.
Ripley Patton lives in Portland, Oregon with one cat, two teenagers, and a man who wants to live on a boat. She doesn't smoke, or drink, or cuss as much as her characters. Her only real vices are writing, eating M&Ms, and watching reality television.
Ripley is an award-winning short story writer and author of The PSS Chronicles, a young adult paranormal thriller series. The first book in the series, GHOST HAND, was a semi-finalist for The Kindle Book Review 2013 Best Indie Book Awards and a Cybil Award Nominee.
The second book in the series, GHOST HOLD, was released in September 2013.
The third book in the series, GHOST HEART, was released in October 2014.
And GHOST HOPE, the final book of the series will be released in the Spring 2016.
You can find out more about Ripley and her fiction on her website at ripleypatton.com.