Okay guys…by now you should know that I am a passionate paranormal fan and author, so it is with pleasure that I present this book blast for Karen Faignes. Sexy vampire? Check! Intrigue? Check! And romance? Check! Happy reading!!
Shaytonian Chronicles – Book 1: Destiny Sets
Karen Fainges
Author Bio: http://shayton.net/Author.htm
Karen Fainges works as a trainer in business and computing. A wife and mother, she started thinking up sci-fi stories at the age of 10. Editor of the K-tips business and computing ezine, she longed to present her fiction to the world. So she took those long ago stories, a love of the absurd and wrote about beings that were not humans. Sometimes you see a lot more about humanity and yourself when you are looking at someone else.
Author Links – The link for any or all of the following…
Website | http://shayton.net/
Facebook Author page | https://www.facebook.com/pages/Karen-Fainges/83671225033
Facebook Series page | https://www.facebook.com/pages/Shaytonian-Vampire-Fiction/88608175544
Twitter | https://twitter.com/annalisamara
Linkedin | http://au.linkedin.com/pub/karen-fainges/a/b99/424/
Goodreads | https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/10612018
Amazon| http://www.amazon.com/Karen-Fainges/e/B0050KEU3S/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_3?qid=1382177091&sr=8-3
Giveaway – details for your giveaway, be specific. You may pick one prize of more than one.
Ebooks, paperbacks, Swag or gift cards
3 pack of ebooks Shaytonian Chronicles Book 1-3
3 pack of Paperback Shaytonian Chronicles Book 1-3 Signed if willing to wait for post from Australia or from Amazons if not.
Hosting Incentive: 3 pack of ebooks Shaytonian Chronicles Book 1-3
3 pack of Paperback Shaytonian Chronicles Book 1-3 Signed if willing to wait for post from Australia or from Amazons if not.
Pit Crew: 3 pack of ebooks Shaytonian Chronicles Book 1-3
3 pack of Paperback Shaytonian Chronicles Book 1-3 Signed if willing to wait for post from Australia or from Amazons if not.
About The Book
Book Genre: Scifi/Fantasy Vampire
Publisher: Writers Exchange
Release Date:
Buy Link(s): http://astore.amazon.com/shaytonchroni-20
Book Description:
Destiny Sets is the first novel in the Shaytonian Chronicles.
Lightning sears a scene against the eye. Trapped between reality and death, every scrap of life is fighting for existence. To stop fighting is to die.
Some precious moments of peace can be stolen from small pockets of calm. Life can take a breath and wonder at the harsh beauty. But only for a moment, then struggle resumes. And others watch.
The Shayton Chronicles begins in Destiny Sets, the story of one man. He is that drop of chaos that can spell success or failure.
Born from a vampiric race of slaves, genetically moulded to provide comfort for their masters, he alone decides to be truly free. Irreverent humour and a fierce need to know ‘why’, war within him and entire worlds are changed.
“The Stainless Steel Rat with fangs.”
Excerpt One:
Painting the mythic vampire
The deep royal blue sky of the Italian Riviera provided the perfect backdrop to the posed woman. She was an otherworldly figure set amongst the ancient columns. Her softly accented voice broke the stillness. “Are you sure about this?”
She watched as he added a daub more paint, “I am sure. You said it yourself, the best way to deny something it is to say it is true.”
“And what if the Council finds out?”
Alfredo dabbed on a different colour. Going by the look on his face, he still did not have the skin colour the exactly right colour of purple. It had been frustrating him all evening. There was a timeline that neither one of them had mentioned, but it loomed in their thoughts. He was getting older, and no one lived forever. His words dragged her out of the wave of sadness that swept through her. “This mythical Council of yours, what if they do notice the paintings? They are just paintings.”
“The Council is no myth. They rule our world.”
“I thought the King ruled your homeworld?”
Lisa started to shrug but remembered in time not to move from the pose. “His rule is absolute, so long as he leaves all the day to day decisions, like whether to exile his daughter to Earth, to the Council.”
“And you, as this poor exiled waif are concerned that one of those ‘day to day’ decisions may be objecting to this painting?”
Lisa snorted at the sarcasm in his voice, knowing it was meant more to chide her out of the doldrums than anything else. “They defend of the safety of Shayton. They hold dear her anonymity. It keeps her from being destroyed by those that fear the different, which, my dear, you must agree describes most humans remarkably well.”
Alfredo nodded, “And trust me, the picture of a masked dancer with obviously fake wings…” Lisa snorted again at this description of her body, “will ensure that any little slip ups like the one in Venice, will be seen as a publicity stunt and nothing else. Your Council will thank us.”
Excerpt two:
They had made it to the bed before falling asleep in each other’s arms. Talkar woke to a cry from downstairs.
“Molly!”
He was half way down the stairs when he saw a staggering shape in the darkness. Talkar growled. He knew that smell. It was her father. And blood. Molly’s blood.
“What have you done?”
“The slut, she was laughing at me. All these fine new clothes and friends. She belongs to me. I…I was just taking her back.”
Talkar pushed past him. Molly lay in the shadows, her chair lying on its side beside her. She had obviously come downstairs, unable to resist checking on the cafe.
“Talkar.”
Talkar caught up her hand. “Molly.”
“He will never leave us alone. Kill him.”
Talkar looked at her for a moment. “Are you sure?”
“This was my perfect night. He tried to take it. I want him dead.” The last words came out in a sob of pain, hatred and fear.
Talkar let her see his fangs grow. “As you wish.” He turned slowly. Molly’s father seemed to be shaking from the shock of her words. Talkar walked up to him. With one hand, he dragged him to his feet. Pulling him close, Talkar whispered in his ear, “Run.”
“You can’t,” the man cowered, trying to drop out of Talkar’s grasp.
“I warned you once. Molly is mine now. You will never hurt her again. Because you are about to die.”
Talkar felt the need hit him. “Run!”
The man ran, stumbling into the darkness, whimpering in fear. Talkar watched him go. And then, calling to the darkness, he flew off after him. Talkar felt the Hunger course through him. It had never been this strong.
The smell of the man’s fear filled his senses, there was nothing left but the chase. Still Talkar hung back, taunting him. For long moments, he would let the man think he had escaped, then hunt him again. The man’s heartbeats filled his ears. He could taste his whimpered tears. Finally, he could bear it no longer. Tearing into the man’s throat, he ripped the terror out, drinking it down in great draughts. The heartbeats faltered, sped, then stopped.
Talkar felt his own hearts falter. He fell to his knees. The man’s blood was tainted. Not just alcohol, but other drugs burned through every cell in Talkar’s body. He screamed his pain to the sky.
He felt himself change, fill with power. A noise made him turn. He grabbed for the corpse. It was his now. This feeling was his. The Other would have to leave. Or he would fight them for it. At the back of his mind, a voice began to call. He ignored it. The flood of heat washed it away. He was in Hell again. Heat and power everywhere.
“Talkar!”
The heat dimmed. Her voice was like a cool cloth.
“Mother?”
“Fight it, son. Do not let it claim you like it claimed him. Do not lose yourself.”
“Mother, help me…it is too strong.”
“No, it is not. You are stronger. Fight it because you must.”
Talkar held on to her words and dragged himself towards them. At last, he came to his senses. He was kneeling on the grass. Underneath him was the mangled corpse of Molly’s father.
Melinski drew close and Talkar felt himself snap at her. The beast was still there. She drew closer, soothing noises calming him. “Remember this, my son, remember what it is like for the others. Remember the beast and cage him inside you. You will need him. But do not let him loose until then or he will destroy everything.”
Talkar collapsed into her arms. She tenderly kissed the top of his head. “It hurts, mother,” he whimpered as he had never done as a child.
“I know.”
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It took me six years to write the first two chapters of my first novel; The Heart of India. It took six months to write the next 14 chapters. I often ask myself why it took so long to finish those two chapters and I realized it boiled down to a few things. The first reason? I wasn’t focused. Wow. A writer not focused. (No shit, Sherlock). I have found, in my few years as a writer, that writers are the most easily distracted people on the planet. We can wake up with an entire series in our heads, but damn, anything, can cause us to lose it. Just. Like. That. And then it is gone. We blame writer’s block, we blame significant others, the cat, dog, aliens from outer space or whatever, but the truth is, to be a writer takes time and focus.
Vampires, Werewolves and Demons. Oh My! 