Tag Archives: paranormal

Summoned by Rainy Kaye: Giveaway and Blog Tour


Author Interview

What preconceived notions do people have about being an author?

Some people seem to think coming up with concepts is the hard part. Telling me I should write about a guy who does this one thing is not, in fact, “half the work done already”. Now I just say “Great idea!” and bust out with the plotting charts, scene outlines, and character development papers. That usually stops the little hamster in its wheel mid-spin, and I can go back to eating unhealthy amounts of chocolate and making weird faces at the monitor.

What is one piece of advice for aspiring authors?

Don’t mistake terrible writing with “voice.” I would like to elaborate on this, but that pretty much covers it. If nine of out ten people in the critique group say they have no idea what’s going on in your story, and the tenth person is fascinated with their fingernail dirt, chances are you need to pop open an energy drink and get back to work.

What process do you go through before writing?

Step 1. Do the dishes because that won’t happen again for a while.
Step 2. Stock up on caffeine like beer for a frat party.
Step 3. Apologize to the significant other that for the next few weeks, he will be known as Person Who Doesn’t Let Me Starve.
Step 4. Say farewell to the sweet bliss of sleep.
Step 5. Make an awesome playlist.

Did a character or plot in Summoned take an unexpected twist?

Silvia Walker. She started out as just a logical piece of the world building—of course the master would have an heir—but once she stepped into her first scene, it was on. He role became so fundamental to the story, I can’t believe she wasn’t part of the original outline.

How did you decide on the cover?

Ha, the cover. That’s a topic all on its own. I actually wrote a post about it, and it turned out two pages long. The short version: I tracked down the model for the concept photo, then drove my graphic designer insane until the cover was perfect. Hey, that was less than 140 characters! I knew all that Tweeting would pay off.

Cover Design: Kris Wagner https://www.facebook.com/digitalgunman
Model: Adam Jakubowski https://www.facebook.com/LadyJakubowsky
Photographer: Marcin Rychły https://www.facebook.com/karrdepl

More About Summoned

Twenty-three year old Dimitri has to do what he is told—literally. Controlled by a paranormal bond, he is forced to use his wits to fulfill unlimited deadly wishes made by multimillionaire Karl Walker.

Dimitri has no idea how his family line became trapped in the genie bond. He just knows resisting has never ended well. When he meets Syd—assertive, sexy, intelligent Syd—he becomes determined to make her his own. Except Karl has ensured Dimitri can’t tell anyone about the bond, and Syd isn’t the type to tolerate secrets.Then Karl starts sending him away on back-to-back wishes. Unable to balance love and lies, Dimitri sets out to uncover Karl’s ultimate plan and put it to an end. But doing so forces him to confront the one wish he never saw coming—the wish that will destroy him.

Summoned is represented by Rossano Trentin of TZLA.

Find out more at http://www.summonedtheseries.com



I halt in the doorway, taking in Syd’s body. Unbelievably, she is back for round two. More unbelievably, I let the little crook into my house again. I still have no idea what I would tell Karl about a hotel charge, though. I will just have to keep an eye on her this time.

“You’re lying.” She turns to face me. “There’s no downstairs. Is your mom that type who shows up every week to do the cooking and cleaning?

“Can you stop asking stupid questions?”

She blows air through her teeth. “You suck.”

“Oh, be quiet.” I bat my hair out of my eyes. “Want some wine?”

She drops her purse on the floor next to my bed. “That’s more like it.”

“Red or white?”

“Didn’t realize I was in the presence of Dionysus.” She perches on the edge of the mattress. “Red, please.”

I consider skipping the drinks altogether and just taking her right there. So many beautiful things await under those clothes, ready to be explored all over again.

Instead, I turn around and cross the house to the kitchen. A half bottle of Malbec waits in the fridge. I pour a glass, think better of it, and pour one for myself too. Then I return to the bedroom.

She has her shoes off, sitting cross-legged on the bed, but hasn’t removed anything else. Thankfully. That’s part of the fun.

I knock the door shut with my foot and hand her a glass.

She sips her wine, looking oddly sophisticated for someone with Ozzy Osbourne eye makeup and enough silver in her ears to take down a werewolf.

She peers up at me. “Is it a celebrity?”

I stare at her, dumbly.

“The person you protect, is it a celebrity?” Her eyes light up. “Oh! Is it Stevie Nicks?”

“What? No.”

“Linda Ronstadt?”


She bounces a little on the mattress. “Is it Jenna Jameson?”

“Good god, Syd.” I move forward and take her glass, then place it with mine on the nightstand.

She says, “You didn’t drink any of your wine. Did you—”

I interrupt the chatter mouth with a kiss.

Author Bio

Rainy Kaye is an aspiring overlord. In the mean time, she blogs at http://www.rainyofthedark.com>RainyoftheDark.com and writes paranormal novels from her lair somewhere in Phoenix, Arizona. When not plotting world domination, she enjoys getting lost around the globe, studying music so she can sing along with symphonic metal bands, and becoming distracted by Twitter (@RainyoftheDark). She is represented by Rossano Trentin of TZLA.

Suddenly Sorceress Giveaway: Dragon Meets Witch… and a Skunk?

Suddenly Sorceress

Today Erica Lucke Dean is visiting my blog with her witch, Ivie, from her latest paranormal release Suddenly Sorceress. I’ve brought along my dragon, Rhypez, to meet Ivie. Hey, Rhypez, our visitors are here!

‘Ivie is my name, magic is my game. It’s lovely to meet you, Mr.Rhypez. Though, truth be told, I’m new at this whole ‘magic’ thing. Up until very recently I didn’t believe in such things. Then one day, poof, my ex is a skunk. Speaking of stinky… your breath is a little off putting. Is that brimstone and virgin bones I smell?’

Rhypez yawned, revealing a veritable array of yellowing teeth. With one claw, he dislodged something from between two and flicked it away. ‘Brimstone keeps the teeth clean, but virgins are so passé… Witches, on the other hand, witches are interesting. Magic’s an old friend of mine, but how are you and your new friend getting along, Miss Witch?’ He exhaled in a huge gust, and tongues of flame played across the floor. 

‘When you say interesting, you don’t mean delicious do you?  Because I’m fairly certain I don’t have enough meat on my bones for a big strong dragon like you. In fact… stop growling I’m trying to concentrate here… huh… still a dragon. Didn’t you feel anything just then? Maybe the urge to bark? Guess I need more practice.’

‘That was a laugh, not a growl. Would you like to hear a growl? But you should know, Miss Witch, dragons are immune to most forms of magic – something it might be wise to know about someone before you try to turn them into a dog. Come closer, and we can… discuss… why witches are interesting.’

‘I’m not surprised to find out dragons are immune to magic… that seems to happen to me a lot. When I turned my jerk of an ex fiancé into a skunk it was an accident.  And don’t even ask about turning him back. I couldn’t do that if I tried. I did turn him into a snake once… dragons are really just snakes with feet and spicy breath, right? Hey, keep those paws to yourself. Anyone ever tell you you need a manicure? Or is that a dragicure? Ah, I slay myself.’ 

‘Did you just call me a snake?’ In the act of poking Ivie again, Rhypez withdrew his claw and rattled his wings. He huffed out a hot, gusty breath, eyes glittering. ‘How about we agree you don’t call me a snake again. But tell me about this skunk. I maydeign to be amused.’

‘You do have those same snakey eyes…but fine. Stow your fire breath. As for my ex… I knew the guy was a stinker long before he was a…you know…a stinker. And seriously, he had it coming. He came home drunk and proceeded to break up with me, asking for my engagement ring back so he could give it to someone else! Who does this? A skunk. That’s who. Well, that’s how I found out I was a witch.’ Ivie gave the dragon a one shoulder shrug. ‘One minute he was a dude with bad decision making skills and the next he was Pepe Le Pew.’ 

Rhypez’s flanks heaved with suppressed laughter, and a tongue of flame escaped his jaws. ‘A skunk! I love it. You should practice turning yourself into a dragon. Then think of all the nasty things you can do to men who deserve it…’

Ivie suppressed a shudder. A dragon? The goat was suddenly looking positively civilized. ‘What exactly do dragons do?’ Her mother’s words came back to her…what if her face froze like that? ‘Never mind. I think I’ll pass. I’m not even doing that great of a job as a witch.’

‘Do? Well… whatever we want. Who’s going to tell us no? But really, we’re not all that bad. Well, most of us. No eating people, not even virgins or witches. No randomly flaming people. I mean, we can, but why would you want to? No piles of gold – ugh, do you know how uncomfortable it is to sleep on a great, ugly heap of gold? And you can’t eat it, neither. But you can fly. And – aren’t I beautiful?’ He struck a pose, head high and wings upraised, revealing a glittering gold underside.

‘That isn’t real gold is it?’ Ivie gaped at the dragon’s shiny underside. ‘I could conjure up my own gold if I wanted it. I mean, not that I do, because I don’t. I’m not the materialistic sort.’ She fidgeted where she stood. ‘But what I would like to do is fly. I have this pesky little fear of heights, you see. I’m not sure if witches really fly around on broomsticks, but if they do, I’m not sure I’m cut out for that. But you have lovely wings. So I assume you can fly. I don’t suppose you could… maybe… teach me?’

Rhypez preened. ‘No, no, not gold, how ghastly uncomfortable would that be. Just my own hide. As for flying… well. You seem a nice enough sort, for a witch. Although I suppose being a witch still puts you a cut above the average human. I could maybe… take you for a spin? If you fancy?’ He proffered a leg, almost shy. 

‘Hmm.’ Ivie scratched her head. ‘I’ve ridden a magician before, but never a dragon. Is there anything I should know before I…um…mount you?’ She giggled. ‘Do I need a helmet? Or a jacket? I’ve noticed your heat all blows out the front. And what about those scales? Are they slippery? I won’t fall off will I. You do have seat belts, right? And what about gas…I hope you have enough gas to get us to where we’re going.’ Ivie giggled again, thinking about dragon gas. What if he licked his…errr…dragon balls and burped. Would he set his own ass on fire? ‘You know, as much as I’d love to fly around the town on the back of a sexy dragon such as yourself. I think I’ll pass. My magician is probably waiting up for me. And I have a whole list of people to turn into woodland creatures. And I’m sure you have a donkey to woo. So I’m going to thank you for a lovely evening and bid you goodnight. Don’t be a stranger.’ Ivie held out a hand and waited for the dragon to shake it.

‘Hmph.’ Rhypez stared at her hand. ‘Gas. Scales. Seat belts! Donkeys?’ His scaly brow wrinkled in perplexity. ‘ Perhaps it’s for the best, then.’ He extended one great claw and allowed Ivie to take hold of the tip. With great care, he shook. ‘Oops, sorry.’ He caught her and righted her before she fell. ‘Come visit when you figure out how to make that broomstick fly.’ 

Thanks so much to Erica and Ivie for dropping by to visit us! If you’d like to know more about Ivie and Suddenly Sorceress, check out the excerpt below or otherwise buy the book! Don’t forget to enter the giveaway too.
Suddenly Sorceress is available from:

Also check out the book and Erica at:

Author page on Red Adept Publishing:  http://redadeptpublishing.com/erica-lucke-dean/

Rafflecopter code: a Rafflecopter giveaway

Excerpt  from Suddenly Sorceress


“You’re too sexy, my ass!” I tried to tune out the Right Said Fred ringtone as I fished my fiancé’s cell phone from the pocket of his discarded Dockers. I glared at the flashing caller ID. “You just don’t give up, do you?”
That was lucky number thirteen. Thirteen missed calls in the span of an hour. Thirteen calls he was unable to answer.
Because of me.
After pressing ignore onemore time, I shoved the phone back into the pocket where it belonged, hoping it would muffle the sound somewhat. I didn’t know why I didn’t just turn off the damn thing. I’d endured his ridiculous ring tone more times than anyone should have to, obviously determined to punish myself. Between the maddening song and the horrible smell, I certainly felt punished. Even if it wasn’t nearly enough.
Way down deep in my bones, I knew my life had been forever changed. Even if I could somehow fix things—put them back to normal—nothing would be the same again. Not ever.
Swallowing against the crystal ball-sized lump in my throat, I dropped Matt’s pants where I’d found them, along with his shirt, his boxers, and his shoes, and I collapsed onto the rumpled blankets on the bed.
That sort of thing didn’t happen in the real world. Only small children or crazy people believed in… no, I refused to even think the word, let alone say it. It’s impossible. But I’d seen it with my own eyes, and whatever it was, it definitely wasn’t normal.
My scruffy housecat made another frantic orbit around my feet as the phone sounded again, the self-centered lyrics looping, making me cringe. Apparently, he’d also grown weary of the tune.
If only I could say the choice of ring tone was ironic, a product of his wry sense of humor. But he didn’t have much of a sense of humor. Matthew Green was exactlythat arrogant. Despite every despicable thing he’d done to me, every insult, lie, and betrayal that had led us there, I truly wished Matt could answer his stupid phone himself. Unfortunately, wishing didn’t seem to be on my side that morning.
Stifling a groan, I pulled myself from the warmth of the bed to dig the phone out of Matt’s pocket again. Geez, persistent much? With a deep, cleansing breath, I mashed down the button to accept the call.
“Matt! Where are you?” Matt’s receptionist, Ginger, snapped before I had a chance to say hello. “Friday’s your busiest day. Do you have any idea what time it is? You’ve already missed two appointments.”
Even without caller ID, I would have recognized her breathy Betty Boop voice. She sounded as though she’d been sucking helium all morning. I didn’t know her well, but I suspected she was banging my fiancé.
“We’ll be lucky if there’s enough time for a quickie before the next patient arrives,” she continued in a whisper.
Yep… definitely banging him.
“And another thing.” Her sweet baby voice morphed into a feral growl. “Candy’s been standing outside your office all morning. I thought you said you were done with her? I’m not kidding, Matt, if I find out you’re still screwing her, I’m going to cut off your balls.”
Apparently, I was engaged to a pathological cheater. Of course, I hadn’t known that when I agreed to marry him. There were a lot of things I didn’t know about Matt. Then again, there was a lot I didn’t know about me.
“Well? Aren’t you going to say anything?”
 “Uh… hi, Ginger.” I cleared my throat and resisted the urge to “say anything.” “This is Ivie. Matt can’t come to the phone. I… uh… don’t think he’s going to be able to… uh… make it into work today.” I managed to stammer through the basics without my voice cracking.
“Oh, hi, Ivie.” Her voice changed again; she sounded as if she’d been sucking lemons. She didn’t even have the decency to be embarrassed. “What’s wrong with Matt? He hasn’t missed a day in… Actually, I don’t think he’s ever called in sick.”
My eyes darted to the closed bathroom door, and I shuddered. “He’s really not feeling like himself today.” Understatement of the century.
“Is he sick?”
“Um… I definitely don’t think anyone wants what he has.” I tiptoed around the answer. I wasn’t good at coy, but I gave it my best shot.
“Oh… Well, in that case, maybe it’s best if he stays home.” I could almost see her coiling a lock of her thick red hair around her finger as she spoke. “Just tell him I hope he feels better, and not to worry. I’ll reschedule his appointments for him. Do you think he’ll be well enough to come in Monday?”
I tamped down a flicker of panic. “I really hope so.” But I seriously doubt it.
After listening to Ginger rant for a minute about missed appointments and the difficult task of rescheduling, I ended the call, staring at the bathroom door as if I expected a silent command to open it. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine the door swinging wide and my fiancé sauntering out. I popped open one eye. The door hadn’t moved—not even a crack.
For far too long, I’d avoided that room. With three tentative steps, I closed the distance between myself and the master bathroom, covering my mouth and nose with one hand as I cracked the door. I’d almost gotten used to the foul odor in the bedroom. It was bad but not unbearable. The stench in the bathroom was overwhelming. The fumes poured out, bringing tears to my eyes. The small space reeked worse than when I’d locked him in there last night. It smelled as if someone had cooked up a potion of burning tires and rotten eggs in a boiling vat of sour ammonia, and even that comparison wasn’t quite bad enough.
Blinking back the sting of tears, I scanned the room. I didn’t see him anywhere, just a puddle that looked suspiciously like urine in one corner and in the other, a makeshift bed fashioned out of—were those my good bath towels?
No Matt.
A quick rush of adrenaline kick-started my heart. What’s happened to him now? This is bad. Very, very bad. As if things weren’t bad enough already. What sort of person was I? What I’d done was unspeakable, so horrible even I didn’t know what I’d done.
Just as I was about to have a full-blown panic attack, he slinked out from behind the hamper. I should have been relieved he was still alive, but I wasn’t sure if his current state was much better. He stared up at me—his beady little black eyes blinking in the harsh fluorescent light—so much smaller than he used to be and covered in a thick pelt of black and white fur. My fiancé.
The skunk.

The Rook: Book Review

I picked The Rook up free at GenreCon in Sydney, Australia – part of the free goodie bag every conference attendee receives. Though it was outside my main reading tastes (i.e. not epic fantasy), the blurb intrigued me, and it certainly contained enough elements of the supernatural for me to say ‘close enough is good enough’. 

Myfanwy Thomas (pronounced Miffany, to rhyme with Tiffany, rather than the correct Welsh pronunciation – ugh) opens her eyes in a park, surrounded by a ring of dead men, with a letter addressed to ‘You’ from ‘Me’ – the former occupant of the body. 

Intriguing, but I must confess the initial chapters had me most confused as to whether this was a case of body-switching (my first impression) or amnesia. By about a quarter of the book, I’d settled comfortably on amnesia, but a quarter is too much to be confused and I was disappointed because I’d misunderstood, and the body-switching sounded far more interesting than garden variety amnesia. 

Guided by the letters, Myfanwy must decide whether to find out who is trying to kill her (the former ‘her’) or escape to a life of comfortable anonymity. Having chosen to flee her unknown assassins, she is thwarted in the attempt by an attack at the bank where she is to retrieve instructions on how to make a clean escape. When she mysteriously leaves her assailants unconscious, she instead elects to resume her former life and hunt down the person trying to kill her. 

Myfanwy discovers she is a ‘Rook’ in the Checquy, UK government department tasked with controlling the supernatural – one of the eight powerful leaders of the organisation, and possessed of supernatural powers of her own. Using comprehensive notes left by her predecessor, who knew she was to lose her memory, she bluffs her way through her first few days of fumbling ignorance to secure her position in the organisation. Once established, she sets out to find the traitor in their midst, and stave off an ancient, powerful enemy from the Checquy’s past.  

While the plot was intriguing and enjoyable, and by the end I was completely enthralled and found myself compelled to finish, desperate to know the identity of the traitor, I found the book suffered from a number of problems that on a pickier day would have led me to drop the book like a hot potato. As it was, I was at least halfway in before I felt fully invested, and that is far too late.

Myfanwy. What kind of person would take someone whose name is pronounced ‘Miffany’ seriously? Worse, someone called her ‘Miffy’. My toddler watches a cartoon with a rabbit called Miffy. I cannot abide it. I have no idea what purpose this incorrect pronunciation of the name was intended to serve. When Myfanwy’s long lost sister turned up, it appeared Myfanwy had been mispronouncing her own name (not that revelation change anything). Given she was old enough to know how to pronounce her own name when she was taken into government training, I’ve no idea how this happened, or why it happened, except to annoy the reader. 

Also, the reappearance of the sister seemed gratuitous and served no purpose, except to conveniently offer a villain leverage over Myfanwy – despite the fact neither the current Myfanwy, nor her predecessor, knew or had any emotional connection to the sister. 

Myfanwy made a number of huge errors in her impersonation of herself in the early days, and didn’t appear to make much attempt at all to behave consistent with what she did know about her predecessor (granted, not much). I concede I’d probably have wanted to shake things up since it seems the old Myfanwy was a bit of a wet dishrag, but she did it accidentally, in a fumbling, ignorant kind of way. 

Amazingly, only one person figured out what had happened, and that person kept their mouth shut. Perhaps I’m wrong, but I’d expect a senior member of a covert operation to be interrogated if there was even a suspicion they were being impersonated, and even more so in a covert supernatural organisation where perhaps the idea of someone being replaced isn’t so completely far-fetched. But despite noticing she was behaving differently, no one said a thing. This was largely attributed to the power Myfanwy wielded as Rook, but at the same time it was apparent other staff treated her as a laughing-stock. This stretched my credulity. 

The letters from Myfanwy’s predecessor (and there were a few) provided the author with a convenient excuse to infodump backstory in large chunks. Convenient, but unnecessary and annoying. Some of the information so provided was interesting and relevant, while others appeared to have been included for humour only. Mostly I found these annoying as they took me away from the actual interesting story. The so-called humour left me flat in most cases. When a huge fungus swallows a series of strike teams, I’m not inclined to be amused by its colouration. The book was supposed to be humorous, I understand, but it never really struck the right tone to achieve it.    

In some instances (only occasionally) the author did a substantial amount of work building tension, made a huge and important revelation, and then did nothing with it. For instance, Myfanwy made an important discovery while interrogating a prisoner. It was implied, not spelled out (i.e. the reader had to do some basic math to work it out), and it was huge. I expected Myfanwy to report this to her superiors or, if she daren’t trust them with it, I expected her to act on it herself, or at least think about what it meant. Instead, at the opening of the next chapter – nothing. It was ignored so completely, I began to think I had misunderstood what I’d read. It was important enough it should have rated a mention, and if she had thought about it, probably she would have figured out who the traitor was earlier.

Myfanwy also appeared to have experienced a significant increase in her powers post-amnesia, and this was never satisfactorily explained. 

The editing could have used some work, too, with unnecessary instances of passive language and repetition which, while not quite enough to put me off, were more noticeable in light of some of the larger plot issues identified above, and only served to annoy me more. 

I did enjoy the story, enough that I will probably check out the author’s next work, but if you are one of those people who is exceptionally picky about the quality of the books you read (which usually I am these days) or otherwise have a huge TBR list, you might not want to take the time. 

I’d give this three stars – solid effort, but could have done with more polish and refinement. 

If you enjoyed this post, please feel free to check out my previous posts if you haven’t already. If you’re finding yourself here often, you might as well join as a member, sign up to the blog through RSS or email, or sign up for the newsletter.

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New “Club Fantasci’ Speculative Fiction Video Book Club

I’m co-hosting a video book club. Me. Wow. 
The book reviewers are David Lowry, author Dionne Lister, entertainment personality and model Shannon Million, and of course myself! 

Club Fantasci launched August 1, 2012, and is designed to help bring great books and great authors more exposure to the world at large. We are taking the stigma out of speculative fiction!

The book club will select a book each month for review, and the reviewers will then meet via G+ Hangout once a month to discuss the literary merits of the book – and we’ll be doing more than just telling you we liked or didn’t like the book. In an entertaining way, of course. So it’s just like an offline book club… except online… with wine… and stuff.

The first G+ hangout is scheduled for August 31st 7:00pm EST./CST For those of you in the southern hemisphere, that’s 1 September 10am AEST. So if you fancy joining us, go pick up this month’s book, The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern, and we look forward to seeing you there. 

You can learn more about us by:

Joining our group on Goodreads
Liking our Page on Facebook
Checking out our Website

And here’s a little more about Club Fantasci and what we hope to achieve:

We want to expose you to the full gamut of the speculative fiction genre, including science fiction, hard SF, militaristic SF, high/epic fantasy, dark fantasy, dystopian, cyberpunk, steampunk, space opera, paranormal, urban fantasy, SFF romance and erotica, and everything in between.

We want to educate readers on good writing in speculative fiction, entertain with witty banter, and above all have a fantastic time. Fiction need not be literary to be well written, and good writing need not be boring or mundane! We promise you we’ll do our best to bring you a good book every month, and if not, we’ll tell you why it’s not! For a bit of light fun, we’ll also be featuring a wine of the month and picking a song that best fits the book.

Club Fantasci will introduce the “Wine of the Month” and each of the reviewers will pick music they feel best represents the current “Book of the Month.” So bring your book, keep that wineglass topped up, and don’t forget your iPod!

The “Wine of the Month” for August is a 2011 “Suited Muscat” from Sort This Out Cellars Winery in Las Vegas, NV.

Alternatively, you can connect with the reviewers
The Lowry Agency:
Dionne Lister

Shannon Million

Ciara Ballintyne

You can read the official press release for the launch of Club Fantasci here

If you missed it, check out my guest post on POV Rules and when it’s OK to break them here

If you enjoyed this post, please feel free to check out my previous posts if you haven’t already. If you’re finding yourself here often, you might as well join as a member, sign up to the blog through RSS or email, or sign up for the newsletter.

Don’t forget to share the love and spread the word on Twitter, Facebook or StumbleUpon (or other social networking site of your choice) if you know other people who might also enjoy this.

Thanks for stopping by and visiting with us!

Supernatural Freak by Louisa Klein – Cover Reveal

The Lost in Fiction* team proudly announces its first fiction project: Supernatural Freak, to be released on the 8th August 2012 in Ebook format.

The first of a four-book series, Supernatural Freak is written by 25 years old Louisa Klein who is Lost in Fiction’s Editorial Manager and a freelance book publicist and editor. The book is set in London and it’s an urban fantasy for readers of all ages, but especially aimed at a young audience. It tells the adventures of Robyn Wise, a girl in her twenties who has a number of inborn supernatural abilities no one can explain, not even the most powerful wizards living in England. Below, the amazing cover and the blurb:

“When paranormal expert Robyn Wise is offered an outrageous sum  of money to cure a boy who is turning into a dead tree, she’s very sceptical. A politician ready to pay that much to make his son stop growing branches instead of hair? Come on! She’s more likely to be  abducted by aliens. This is a trap. Or much worse. And, of course, it’s much worse.

The child is turning into a dark portal, created by a powerful entity determined to absorb Fairyland’s power. This means that not only queen Titania and her court are in danger, but the very balance of the magic fluxes.

Robyn’d rather stick a pencil in her own eye but, to learn how to  destroy the portal, she has to sneak into the Wizardry Council, a place full of wizards who are hiding something—though it’s certainly not their
dislike of her.

There, she discovers a terrible secret that could help to overthrow Fairyland’s enemies for good, but puts her in the midst of an ancient and deadly war, and not as a bystander, but as the main target.”

Supernatural Freak stars a cover created by Harper and Collins digital artist Regina Wamba, who recently  joined the Lost in Fiction team, bringing to the table her amazing talent and over ten years of experience.

“I came up with the story, but the rest was a lot of team work,” Louisa Klein explains. “My colleague, national journalist and development editor Paul Antony Harvison, gave me priceless advices on how to improve the plot, while our proofreader Ceiron Hughes made sure there were no typos (he has laser eyes, I swear!). I have planned the book campaign with Bruce Clark, who currently works as a freelance marketing consultant for BMW in Germany. We all know what we are doing: for example, I’m only 25, but got my first internship in a publishing house when I was only 15, so I can well say I have a bit of experience! It was a lot of work but we all had a great time, since we are a bunch of professional geeks enthusiastic about fiction and fantasy!”

“When Louisa came up with the idea for her first novel, we were all thrilled and excited,” adds Lost in Fiction Marketing Manager Bruce Clark . “Brainstorming with her about her campaign was hard work but also good fun! I pointed out from the start that a good, even an excellent marketing plan is useless if the product doesn’t meet the market’s expectations, so the editorial guys worked like crazy to deliver the best possible product and I think they’ve succeeded, our output being comparable to the one of a small, yet serious and solid, indie publisher.”

To get copies for review, interview the author or simply to know more, please contact Bruce Clarke at:  info@lostinfiction.co.uk putting “Supernatural Freak” as the subject of the email. 

* Lost in Fiction is a British online magazine run by a team of young, enthusiastic freelancers. It counts over 20000 unique visitors per month, reaching peaks of 100000 during particular online events such as “Lost in Romance” or “Lost in Young Adults”