Yesterday, my friend and fellow author Matthew Aaron Browning wrote a blog post discussing how, for him, Writing is Like Building a House. He talks about how his writing process is a lot like seeing the end picture and knowing how a story will end, but not knowing the details that got him there.
"I begin by outlining the major plot points of the book (the blueprints) and then write toward them, moving my characters from scene to scene, sequence to sequence and chapter to chapter in pursuit of that next plot point. With Blades of Grass, I knew where I needed these two people to end up, so I wrote until they got there."
This is also how I write. Kind of. I write the end first, then the beginning, and I finish the middle last. It's easier for me to know where I'm going, figure out where I want to begin, and find the journey connecting both last. Like Matthew, I outline major plot points and understand a lot of the major details of the story, but it's not until I'm finished with a draft when I often realize how much details are missing. I did this for Light of the Moon and the stories within Shades of the Stars.
I'm working on this story. For now, let's just call it code name Bad Ass. Because it's crazy and different and romantic and weird and sensitive and strong. And you have to be a bad ass to be all those things at once. Right? Right. Anyway, Bad Ass is about a girl and a guy. It's about a different world with very different creatures and rules. I started Bad Ass like I do many of my stories, with the end finished before the middle happened. And, of course, I wrote a kissing scene first. Because I have to. That's just how I work. As it is now, I have the first draft of Bad Ass nearly completed, but as I am reading over chapters to send to early readers, I'm realizing how many things still need to get added. Creating a new world is difficult, and it's because of details that they can seem so real. I have to figure out the story behind these two characters kissing, this end scene that is as vivid as a photograph in my mind.
"It isn’t until I reach the end of a novel that I realize I tend to gloss over the details – the internal motivations and emotions that propel my characters through these scenes. While these things are in my head, I neglect to ensure they’re getting onto the page. I build a solid foundation, put up walls, throw in some windows, maybe even slap on a little paint and a shiny new roof... The house isn’t move-in ready because it hasn’t been decorated yet."
So, to me, writing is a lot like a photograph. Like a house that needs to be filled with a story. In Bad Ass, I have taken a picture and I know how it will end and what I want it to look like, but I have to create a detailed story to accompany the end photograph. Writing is like seeing a picture of a place you've never visited before and wondering what it would be like to go there. Writing is like holding a picture of a kissing couple and wondering what happened to get them there. Writing is like seeing a burned war photograph and living the final battle of that soldier, and then imagining their life before and after. The mind creates stories for pictures, for pieces of art without words, and that's what I must do for Bad Ass. I know exactly how it must end. I can see the photograph. I just need to words that make that photograph true.
You guys. I've read Secret. And I loved it. A lot. Brigid Kemmerer was kind enough (after my constant twittering) to send me an ARC of the book, and I promise it was everything I wanted it to be AND MORE. In Secret, there is more romance and elemental powers on every page.
Keep his grades sky-high or he’ll never escape his
Keep his brother’s business going or the Merricks will be
out on the street.
Keep the secret of where he’s going in the evenings from
his own twin—or he’ll lose his family.
Keep his mind off the hot, self-assured dancer who’s
supposed to be his “girlfriend’s” partner.
Of course there’s also the homicidal freak Quinn has
taken to hanging around, and the Elemental Guide counting the hours until he
can try again to kill the Merrick brothers. There’s a storm coming. From all
sides. And then some.
Nick Merrick, can you keep it together?
Brigid Kemmerer is the author of The Elemental Series, about
a family of four brothers who control the elements, and their battle with those
who want them dead. Storm, Spark, and Spirit
are available now wherever books are sold.
To read the novella introducing Nick’s story, be sure to check out Breathless
available as an
e-book only from major e-book retailers. You can learn
more about Brigid and the Elemental boys at www.brigidkemmerer.com.
'It's going to take a fight, I know that. But it's more than just a fight for my life. It's a fight for my soul and my soul mate.'
Jazzy Williams is not your average coffee-loving teen. She's struggling with her grief, her famous uncle’s fans, an overprotective big brother, and a depressed mother, all while trying to make friends at her new school. In the first week, she meets a gorgeous green-eyed hottie who turns out to be more than just some high school crush - he's more than human. And she unknowingly enrages a very dangerous breed of immortal who wants her soul or life as payment. With the help of supernatural friends and protectors, Jazzy thinks she's safe until what remains of her family is put in danger. Does Jazzy have what it takes to save her family, life, soul and soul mate, or will all be lost?
*Warning* Mature Content. This contains some profanity, mild sexual situations, innuendoes, and violence. Recommended for ages 17 and up, depending on maturity level.
“Do you really want to talk or are you just using this as an excuse to get me to go on a date with you?”
“I do have some fairly important things to discuss with you, but if you’d like, we can save it for another day and make this a date,” he answers, while not taking his eyes from the road.
“Fine, talk first. If you’re lucky, I might give you my number.” I laugh.
“I don’t need your number,” he says quietly.
I’m confused. He didn’t say want. He said need.
He glances my way. “Get that frown off your face. Just because I don’t need your number, doesn’t mean I don’t want it.” He reaches over and pats my hand before going back to the gear shifter.
His touch was warm and left a tingling sensation on my skin. For all of two seconds I felt whole again and now I feel like I’m aching. I pinch my thigh through my jeans.
What kind of girly little crush do I have?
“Why wouldn’t you need my number?” I ask, trying to shake off the strange ache.
“I’ll explain that when we get to the lake. I think I’m going to start this conversation where you can’t run away from me.”
“I can’t run anywhere now,” I point out.
He sighs. “This is going to be difficult for me to tell you, like it was difficult for you to tell Skeeter and me yesterday.” He glances my way and then looks back to the road. “It has several consequences and outcomes. In fact, I had to travel to get permission to tell you to begin with.” He turns the radio on, leaving me with my thoughts.
Now I’m starting to worry on top of being nervous as hell.
Why do I need to be on a boat in the middle of a large lake before he sheds any light on this? Who did he need permission from and why did he need it?
God, I hope he’s not a serial killer.
Maybe his mom was abducted by aliens or his dad kidnapped some king’s son. Maybe I should’ve insisted we stay closer to home, closer to Henry. Maybe he…
I’m going to give myself a migraine by the time we get to the damn lake! Then he’ll have to take me back home, and I’ll never find out what’s going on in his head.
I glare over at Seth, and he’s chuckling. I turn down the radio and ask him what’s so funny.
“Just a random thought, that’s all.” He turns the radio back up.
Fine then, no talking.
I watch him as he drives. Seeing the veins in his arm pop out as he turns the wheel and the muscles ripple when he shifts a gear, I wonder what those arms would feel like wrapped around… Stop it!
Every damn time I’m around him, I think like a pervert! I inwardly growl and press my head back onto the headrest. I’ll just look out the window then.
Trees are in no way erotic, or sensual, or perverted.
Focusing on the trees is easy, but I can still smell him. His amazing smelling cologne mixed with his clean, spicy scent assaults my nose and begs me to lean in close. This car ride is taking forever.
The longer it takes, the more nervous I get. I shift in my seat, cross and uncross my legs, and bite my lip as I stare at endless trees.
‘The way she bites her lip makes me want to pull the car over and…’
I gasp, and choke on my breath or saliva.
What was that?!
Who was that?
Rachellives in Central Pennsylvania, is a stay at home mom, has a wonderful husband, total of 4 kids, 3 of which are step kids. She’s a true Pittsburgh Penguins and Steelers fan. She’s an insomniac that loves coffee, Johnny Depp movies and bonfires, dislikes driving on the interstate, bugs of any kind, and a too quiet house. When she’s not playing with the people inside her head, making her family think she belongs in the loony bin or writing, she enjoys spending time with her family, finding new music, new books, helping someone or plotting something equally crazy with her Critique Partners.
The Witch's Curse and The Warrior's Code are FREE right now for Kindle download. Check them out, download and review them, and feel free to share with all your friends. The more the better.
These stunning and lyrical introductions to the Legend of the Dreamer series are perfect novellas for fans of Lauren Oliver's Delirium Stories.
Before Kate met Calum in Light of the Moon, Magda met Samuel.
Magda cannot stop her heart from running rampant with the beating drum of love. Whenever her eyes find Samuel, she can feel the pull of strings so vividly alive against her heart. But for Magda, love goes against fate; her destiny as a witch forbids her to need anything but the dark binds of magic. Soon, the witch's curse begins to call to Magda. To deny her love for Samuel would be unthinkable, but to defy her destiny would be impossible. Before the curse can consume her, Magda must decide between Samuel and destiny, and her heart may beat too savagely for anyone to stop.
The Witch's Curse can be read before or after Light of the Moon.
In the magical world of the Order, Warriors fight for justice, freedom, and peace. They live by the Code. They die by the Code. Becoming a Warrior is an honor given to few, and twelve-year-olds Zackery Solts and Kate Black will do anything to have a place among the elite. Zack and Kate must compete against eighteen others and pass three deadly tests of courage and skill. Above all, they must be strong because while the dangers of the tests are unknown, one thing is clear: not everyone will survive.
The Warrior's Code can be read before or after Light of the Moon.
Dreamscape is the first book in the Netherworld series by Christie Rich!
Here's the blurb: Every night before Amelia falls asleep she makes a wish to dream of him – the man who calls her to their beautiful private oasis, her sanctuary where she is free of her greedy landlord’s threats. But tonight, he will not call Amelia to him. Tonight, another man will step into her world to claim her. Tonight, Amelia’s shattering reality will crumble - and disappear into the Dreamscape…along with her freedom. When Amelia dreams tonight, her nightmare becomes her new world where Seth is her captor and anything is possible…except escape. Seth needs Amelia to break the curse that binds him to the Dreamscape. He must convince her that she was made to free him, that she was made to join him. For if he fails, he will never escape his prison, and he will lose Earth to the Netherworld where the evil Erobos wait to consume the human realm and everything in it. If he fails, Seth will lose the one thing that matters to him: Amelia. How about an excerpt?
Varner’s voice cuts through the front door
just before three juddering bangs reach me. “I know you’re in there, Amelia. If
you’re not gone by eight, I’m coming in.” His voice lowers, probably to avoid
wandering ears. My spine stiffens more with each word. “You’d better be ready
for me if you decide to stay.”
I’ve already packed my stuff. Pitiful as it
is, one beat-up suitcase sits by the door.
I turn up the volume on my MP3 player until
it won’t go any higher, clutching Justine’s picture to my chest. “Yeah!” I
yell, my voice tight with anger. Hot tears cut a path down my cheeks. I scrub
them away before they can slide any farther. To take my mind off the pit in my
stomach, I grit my teeth until my jaw hurts. I need more time, but I’m not
about to give Varner what he wants for it. “I got it. Go! Away!” I pull one bud
out of my ear to make sure he’s leaving.
He says something about not signing leases
with old ladies before his voice fades into nothing. The lecher thinks he’s got
Ha. No one has me, especially not him. And
to think I used to consider him cute.
When I told Varner ‘no’ earlier, he didn’t
exactly take me at my word, until I landed a good hit to his jugular. He shoved
me down, and I let him go. On his way out he made no pretense about eyeing
what’s left of Justine’s china doll collection. The minute he was through the
door, I smashed the majority of them rather than have him get his hands on
them. I really don’t have room, but I couldn’t destroy her favorite. She said
it looked just like me.
I sold everything else to make last month’s
rent, but I ran out of time with the dolls. I was hoping for a collector.
It doesn’t matter now.
Even though I’ve tried to pick up extra
shifts at the diner, tips have been awful. I have two hundred bucks in my
account, which Varner is not getting a penny of. I need everything I have to
find a place to live. The reality of the moment sets in. This is my final night
in Justine’s apartment.
The shabby place shouldn’t mean anything to
me, but it still smells like her. She had this sweet perfume that she liked to
slather on. I got used to it after a while. She wasn’t exactly old, either.
Varner’s just too strung out to know the difference. He doesn’t even own the
place, but he’s way better to deal with than his psychotic uncle, who likes to
call me his chipmunk when nobody else is looking. One way or another, I’ll be
out of here by six.
Justine used to say, “Stay sharp, kid. No
one knows when their time’s up.” Well, she sure didn’t. Justine was my grandma.
She died last month at only fifty-eight. She didn’t even get a lousy funeral.
They stuck her in a furnace and handed me her remains. I took her up Provo
canyon to Sundance and watched her float away on the wind. The cremation was
expensive enough that I couldn’t afford a separate plot for her. I couldn’t
have brought myself to visit the cemetery anyway. Besides, we all crumble to
dust one way or another. She is better off flying.
No matter what my life becomes, Justine
saved me from tumbling around the foster system. I had a few years of stable,
and I’ll never forget what she did for me. She helped me to see there are other
ways of living. Although we didn’t have much to live on, we were never short on
I miss her fiercely. If she were here, she’d
tell me to get over it, so I’m trying.
Thank my lucky stars she waited until I got
my diploma to ditch me; although, I’m not quite sure how it’ll help me now. I’m
alone in this world.
My mom only made it to twenty-one before she
overdosed on crack. My dad lasted to a ripe old age of thirty. He got killed in
some weird accident when I was twelve. I never saw him anyway, so my life
hasn’t been much different since he bit it. As far as I know, he was short on
family too. If he does have family stashed somewhere on this planet, I probably
wouldn’t want to know them. He never did a thing for me, so why would they?
Justine was my ticket to normal, and she
left me with no money, no prospects—unless you count the hazy offer I got from
I hang out with him when I have nothing else
to do. When I told him the news he graciously asked me to share his pad under
the viaduct. I gave him a swift ‘no thank you’ even though I should have told
him not even if I weren’t half his age and he had most of his teeth. I couldn’t
hurt his feelings like that. One day, once I’m settled and he’s still around,
I’m going to do something to help him.
If I hadn’t just turned eighteen I might
have found somewhere to camp in the foster system for a while. As horrible of a
thought as it is, being homeless is probably better than wading through
families until one stuck or I got kicked out again.
With nothing else to do, I try to sleep. Try
is the operative word. Ever since my grandma went, I can’t seem to stay in slumberland.
It doesn’t help that I haven’t seen Jason, either.
Although Jason is a figment of my
imagination, he’s helped me through some rough times. I’ve dreamt of him every
night for nearly four years now, at least I used to. I haven’t had that particular
dream in two weeks, and as stupid as it is, I miss him. After Justine died, he
held me on the grass while I cried, listening to the beat of his heart and the
thrum of the waterfall behind us. I’ve wished him alive or that I could join
him in that place for good so many times. I cry every time I wake up without
Maybe it’s for the best that he’s gone.
Dreams aren’t real, and a dream boyfriend can’t help me find a new place to
I shift onto my side, adjusting my pillow,
trying not to think about the dingy beige carpet under my arms. It prickles my
skin, but everything else is gone. Even if I hadn’t already packed the one I
kept, it’s too hot for a blanket.
Focusing on the beat of the music, I sway,
Justine’s picture lying beside me, and will myself to sleep. Somewhere between
my thoughts about tomorrow and dawn I drift away.
My dreams shift and whirl until my mind
rests in the familiar oasis I’ve sought out for years. Finally.
The afternoon sun warms my moistened skin as
I take in the jagged cliffs in front of me and the thick jungle that surrounds
the pool, trying to locate him. The breeze brings an intoxicating aroma of
tropical blooms. Every time I come here, I’m wet, yet I don’t know how I got
that way. “Jason?” I call.
Where is he?
My teeth clamp onto the inside of my upper
lip. I’ve never been away from the water, but I need to find him. He has to be
If nothing else, I’d like to tell him
goodbye…thank you. I have no idea if I’ll see him again, and his absence
presses in on me. This world is not right without him.
The cool grass bends under my bare feet
while a breeze blows wet tendrils into my eyes. I glance up at the falls. Last
time I was here, Jason dared me to dive from the top of the waterfall. Here, I
can do anything. Fear is meaningless, or is it? Strangely, tension prickles my
A foreign tremor rushes along my skin,
leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake. I scan every inch of the landscape
until my eyes meet someone else’s gaze.
It is not Jason.
The man is tall with dark hair like Jason,
but everything else about him is wrong. He’s standing twenty feet away from me
at the edge of the jungle. The wind picks up, blowing his brown locks around
his chiseled features.
As he steps closer, I glance behind me to
the pool, judging the distance. I should be able to get away from him if I need
When I face him again, he’s standing
directly in front of me. My heart explodes and my body coils to run.
He doesn’t move to touch me, but his eyes
hold a warning his lips confirm. “We have no time. He’s coming for you. Learn
all you can then find me. Prepare yourself!”
I jolt upright, my fingers digging into the
carpet. I’m breathing so hard I have to wait a minute to stand up. What the
hell kind of dream was that?
Somehow, I always thought the oasis was mine
and Jason’s, as if no one else existed but us. That guy violated our sanctuary.
A gusty laugh comes out of me from the thought. A dream man violated my dream.
His warning still echoes in my throbbing veins.
A bit unsteady, I make my way into the
kitchen. My fingers fumble for the light switch, but nothing happens when I
flip it. Yeah, I forgot. The power was shut off yesterday. At least the water
Clutching my cup, I fiddle with the sink
until I finally get the knob to twist. The tepid water eases my dry throat, but
it does nothing for my nerves, or my belly. It groans at me again. I’m going to
have to eat soon, even if I have to check the dumpsters behind Fred’s Bakery.
There’s no point in checking the fridge. I found the final remnants of food the
day before last. For not the first time, I wonder what I’m going to do when
tomorrow comes. Two hundred dollars aren’t enough for anything. Even if I use
it only for food, it will disappear before I get paid again, and that’s
assuming I don’t get canned for not having a mailing address.
Even though it’s three AM, I’m gonna head
out. I have a lot to do today, and since I can’t sleep, I might as well get
started. When I find the faucet again and shut it off, my ears prickle with an
A door creeks open and I stiffen where I
All I’ve got to defend myself are my fists,
my feet and my plastic cup. My knife is in my bag. Light from the living room
filters through the doorway. He probably thinks he’s gonna blind me with his
flashlight so he can get his greedy hands on me. Not in this lifetime.
I inch my way to the doorway and peek around
it. What meets my gaze doesn’t make any sense.
A man stands opposite me, framed by the
closet. His big body could never be mistaken for that of Varner Walsh.
The light behind him comes from a roaring
fire that somehow spans forever. Orange flames dance and flicker, casting his
face in shadow while haloing him in gold.
I’m dreaming. I have to be.
I’ve had some weird ones lately, but nothing
has been as real as this. When I dig my nails into my palms, the dream theory
disintegrates with the pain.
Maybe he’s a fireman, but where’s the smoke?
Why aren’t the flames burning anything? Where’s his gear? He’s wearing a suit
for hell’s sake.
His face turns as if he’s scanning the room,
so I take the opportunity to scurry to the opposite wall.
My pulse pounds in my ears and sweat drips
down my back. From here, the front door is four, maybe five lunges away. If he
goes into the bedroom, I might be able to—
“Amelia?” he calls, his deep voice somehow
That’s impossible. I don’t know him, but
even if I did I wouldn’t stick around. Who told this guy I was here? He can’t
be with Child Protective Services. I no longer qualify. My mind flits back to
the weird fire. I’m not sticking around to figure out his magic act.
I make my move, jetting through the
near-empty living room. My fingers fumble with the bolt before I move for the
lock on the knob. I’m taking too long. He’s going to—
Arms clamp around me, hauling me up against
a wall of muscle. The shock nearly makes me pee myself. My mouth opens on a
scream, but he whirls me around and tosses me over his shoulder, cutting off my
I kick and punch and bite into cloth. He twists
around, making my head spin on delirium.
I scream for help, but my throat thickens
immediately. I struggle to breathe. I can’t think.
He bends until my face is right over his
rear end, but he stands up before I can sink my teeth into anything substantial.
As if he’s getting comfortable, he jostles me around. My pulse quickens while
my head hurts from the rush of blood and fear. When he moves toward the closet,
I find my voice.
“Help!” I scream, kicking and punching
against his hard muscles.
No one answers as he plunges us into the
I expect death, but what I get is deposited
on my rear end in a spacious room with a wall of fire at my back. My eyes sweep
the perimeter of what looks like an upscale apartment with a bed tucked in one
corner and a living area in front of me. The dark paneled walls lend an old
world feel that is only mirrored by the heavy furnishings. There are rich
velvets and leather. Even the air is different. Instead of Justine’s sweet
scent, a dark musk fills the space.
How is this possible? We were just in my
The man steps away from me. His chest lifts
with each sharp breath he takes.
The flames should have fried me, but I’m
here. I have to be dreaming. The only thing is, I don’t quite think I am. It’s
absurd to think that, but the heat from the fire wall has intensified now that
the guy is standing away from me. Sweat drips down my scalp and my shirt clings
to my back. I’m going to have to move soon.
The only thing is I don’t know what this guy
will do. I turn my head and look through the flames, but all I see is a huge
pendulum, like from a clock, swinging back and forth.
All of the sudden the flames disappear and
all that remains is a crevice that runs the length of what should be a wall.
The pendulum is easier to see now, at least the lower half. The upper part of
it is cut off by the ceiling. Only darkness lies beyond the fire pit, like it
opens into a cavern.
This has got to be the strangest place I’ve
“I know you must be frightened,” says the
man. “I’m sorry about that. I have much to explain to you. Would you please
join me on the sofa?”
“As if,” I tell him. Even though I’m still
thinking this has to be a dream, I ask, “Who are you? What is this place? Why
am I here?”
His voice comes out low, guttural. “You
don’t remember me?”
“I’ve never seen you in my life.”
Intense blue eyes latch onto mine. “Things
are not always what they appear, Amelia.”
This is a dream. He’s a figment of my
A smile stretches on his full lips. “In
time, all will be revealed.”
He takes a step toward me and I jump to my
feet. I move back and back until my feet are near the pit. Even this close, I
can’t see what’s beyond it.
“Stay away from me,” I tell him.
He spreads his hands, but his eyes are wild.
Veins on his forearms bulge as he puts his hands in his pockets. “Please. Let
I nod, taking a seat on the floor again.
There is no way I’m getting anywhere near him, dream or not.
About the Author
I grew up daydreaming about
fairytales, and my love for discovering new worlds has never died. I am not one
of those writers who always knew I would write. I thought that was what other
people did until one day a few years ago, I took a challenge from a friend and
typed my first words. My journey has been wonderful, and I cannot imagine a day
where I would ever give up writing. My love for reading is what fueled my
imagination in the first place and still does. When I am not writing or
reading, I am enjoying family time with my husband and two children. My family
and I live in a quiet community in Northern Utah, and I am so thankful for the
rich life I have been blessed with.
Thank you to all the book bloggers, authors, and readers who participated in the Shades of the Stars blog tour. The free promotion was a success, the interviews wonderfully written, and everything else better than I could have hoped for. A very, very special thanks to Dani Morales of Crazy Book Chicks for organizing the tour. Dani, you have my highest recommendation. Amazing work.
Blogging is hard work, and I'm not sure how you all manage it so often and do it so well. On top of reading so many books, being included in so many tours, and conducting so many interviews as well as having personal lives, creating actual posts seems like the easy part. But it's not (I struggle with them all the time), and I am always blown away by the wonderful posts you all come up with. Bloggers are very impressive people. So, color me impressed and very, very thankful. I love your support, and those of you (and there are a lot) who strive to write positive and well-written reviews even more so. Positive language is very important to me. Especially in this outstanding literature community, I think it's incredibly important that we use positive language to discuss the good and the bad. So, thank you. And seriously, I feel like a broken record, but thank you again. Bloggers and readers, you are awesome. Blog tours could not exist without you.
This Legend of the Dreamer anthology features playlists, essays on the magical world of the Order, deleted scenes from Light of the Moon (Book 1), an author interview, and a special look at the sequel, Shadow of the Sun (Book 2). The pulse-pounding short stories The Witch's Curse, The Warrior's Code, and an exclusive story called The Enchanter's Fire are included for the first time together in this edition.
Shades of the Stars is available on Amazon in paperback and Kindle edition formats, and will be
"Light of the Moon is beautifully poetic in its writing. David James has crafted a tale that is completely mesmerizing with the blending of two worlds. His artful merging of two strong characters will leave youdyingfor more." (Helen Boswell, author of Mythology)
This Legend of the Dreamer anthology features playlists, essays on the magical world of the Order, deleted scenes from Light of the Moon (Book 1), an author interview, and a special look at the sequel, Shadow of the Sun (Book 2). The pulse-pounding short stories The Witch's Curse, The Warrior's Code, and an exclusive story called The Enchanter's Fire are included for the first time in print.
In The Witch's Curse, Magda cannot stop her heart from running rampant with the beating drum of love. Whenever her eyes find Samuel, she can feel the pull of strings so vividly alive against her heart. But for Magda, love goes against fate; her destiny as a witch forbids her to need anything but the dark binds of magic. Soon, the witch's curse begins to call to Magda. To deny her love for Samuel would be unthinkable, but to defy her destiny would be impossible. Before the curse can consume her, Magda must decide between Samuel and destiny, and her heart may beat too savagely for anyone to stop.
In The Warrior's Code, Warriors fight for justice, freedom, and peace. Becoming a Warrior is an honor given to few, and twelve-year-olds Zackery Solts and Kate Black will do anything to have a place among the elite. Zack and Kate must compete against eighteen others and pass three deadly tests of courage and skill. Above all, they must be strong because while the dangers of the tests are unknown, one thing is clear: not everyone will survive.
In The Enchanter's Fire, Lily Woods is a girl on fire. Literally. Her element burns as fierce as her heart, and very few enchanters want to get close to a girl with such radiant power. None except for Shane Spencer, a boy as calm and cool as his icy element. But fire and ice don't mix, and the element Lily burns inside her is growing stronger. Unstoppable. Soon, Lily's fire may be the end of them all. Taking place during the final, pulse-pounding moments of Light of the Moon, The Enchanter's Fire burns with action and romance.
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"Light of the Moon is beautifully poetic in its writing. David James has crafted a tale that is completely mesmerizing with the blending of two worlds. His artful merging of two strong characters will leave youdyingfor more." (Helen Boswell, author of Mythology)
"Every emotion and feeling in The Witch's Curse is so real and tangible I could almost reach out and touch them with my own hands, and I certainly felt each emotion like it was my own." (Emma Hart, New York Times Bestselling author of The Love Game)
"James has done it again. With haunting prose and crystal-clear imagery, The Warrior's Code packs one heck of a punch in a small but perfect package. Fans of Light of the Moon are gonna eat this one up!" (Jamie Manning, author of Blood Born and Blood Awakening)