Dear Reader,
Diana Rubino, author and Acquisitions Editor of Moongypsy Press stops by to give you the insider’s look of how she sees the process, giving you helpful hits on the do’s and don’t’s when it comes to submission:
I'd love to see submissions in my favourite genres: Paranormals, especially anything to do with ghosts or communicating with the spirit world; Historicals set any time in U.S. history or Medieval or Renaissance Europe, a page-turning whodunit, any genre with comedy in it, or non-fiction dealing with any New Age subjects such as meditation, spirituality, the law of attraction theme, or reincarnation.
My pet peeves are authors who send in manuscript that aren't proofread, with typos, prose that hasn't been tightened, too much back story in the first few chapters, endless internal monologue, and too much head-hopping between characters within a scene.
I advise ALL writers to join a critique group, and have your book critiqued by your partners before sending it to a publisher. Critique partners should be authors who also read/write in your genres. Every book needs at least another pair of eyes -- I know all mine do!
Thank you,
Diana Rubino
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Brian L Porter Presents: Purple Death
Purple Death
By: Brian L. Porter
Coming Soon, By Moongypsy Press
SUMMARY
Tranquil suburban Richmond-on-Thames, home to such landmarks as Hampton Court Palace and Kew Gardens becomes the setting for a series of shocking and particularly gruesome murders that leads Detective Inspector Sean Connor and his team into a labyrinthine investigation in which all roads lead towards a thirty year old unsolved murder. The victims, all apparently unconnected to each other, are being despatched by the use of a singularly unique poison, previously more closely associated with the notorious medieval Borgia family.
As the murders begin to multiply at an alarming rate Connor finds clues hard to come by, and every lead takes him down yet another blind alley as the killer seems to be one step ahead of the police at every turn. Together, he and his assistant Sergeant Lucy Clay must piece together the shreds of evidence that will lead them to the mysterious "Chocolate Woman" and in turn to the brain behind the horrific murders that soon come to be known as "The Purple Death."
As the murders begin to multiply at an alarming rate Connor finds clues hard to come by, and every lead takes him down yet another blind alley as the killer seems to be one step ahead of the police at every turn. Together, he and his assistant Sergeant Lucy Clay must piece together the shreds of evidence that will lead them to the mysterious "Chocolate Woman" and in turn to the brain behind the horrific murders that soon come to be known as "The Purple Death."
EXCERPT
Prologue
The man pulled the grey cardboard box file from its place in the bottom of the well- worn metal filing cabinet that stood in the darkest corner of his office. The heavy box file bulged from the bulk of its contents. It bore no file name or label in the space that had been provided for the purpose. Placing it on his desk the man removed the pink ribbon that held it closed and slowly began to remove the contents. Old newspaper cuttings, yellow with age, were soon joined on his desk by photographs of a diverse collection of men and women, of streets that betrayed their history by the collection of motor cars of a previous generation, notebooks with discoloured, crumpled pages and a single, leather bound album that contained yet more photographs, this time of a more personal nature.
He spent a good ten minutes perusing the contents of the file before slowly replacing each item in the reverse of the order in which he’d removed it. Finally he spent a few minutes looking at the photos in the personal album, tenderly fingering the face of the central character in each and every one of the pictures that the well preserved photograph album contained. A smile played across his lips and he appeared lost in thoughts of a happier time, but eventually he added the album to the other items back in the box file which he soon replaced in its place in the filing cabinet. He pushed the protruding pop-out auto-lock on the cabinet. His secrets were safe until the next time he decided to delve into his own personal museum of what his life had been, and what, under other circumstances, it might have been.
Unlocking a drawer in his desk, he next took out a polished wooden box. Hand-made from the finest quality oak, it bore a distinctly aged and old-fashioned appearance. He knew it had once belonged to a retired sea-captain who’d sailed the world long ago on one of the old clipper ships, carrying tea and other treasures from one corner of the empire to another. He’d acquired it at an antiques auction, and had put it to good use.
Opening it with a key he kept on a chain around his neck he surveyed the contents with a look of satisfaction. Five small glass tubes, rather like test tubes from a chemical laboratory lay in a bed of green velvet within the box. Each was securely topped off with a closely fitting cork top, and sealed around the edges with strong corrosive resistant black tape. Only the sharpest of syringes would serve to pry the contents of those vials from within their glass homes. He touched each of the vials in turn, his gaze lingering upon the clear, innocent looking liquid that each one contained and then, with a smile of satisfaction on his face, he slowly closed the box, turned the key in the lock and returned the box to its allotted place in the drawer.
The man pulled the grey cardboard box file from its place in the bottom of the well- worn metal filing cabinet that stood in the darkest corner of his office. The heavy box file bulged from the bulk of its contents. It bore no file name or label in the space that had been provided for the purpose. Placing it on his desk the man removed the pink ribbon that held it closed and slowly began to remove the contents. Old newspaper cuttings, yellow with age, were soon joined on his desk by photographs of a diverse collection of men and women, of streets that betrayed their history by the collection of motor cars of a previous generation, notebooks with discoloured, crumpled pages and a single, leather bound album that contained yet more photographs, this time of a more personal nature.
He spent a good ten minutes perusing the contents of the file before slowly replacing each item in the reverse of the order in which he’d removed it. Finally he spent a few minutes looking at the photos in the personal album, tenderly fingering the face of the central character in each and every one of the pictures that the well preserved photograph album contained. A smile played across his lips and he appeared lost in thoughts of a happier time, but eventually he added the album to the other items back in the box file which he soon replaced in its place in the filing cabinet. He pushed the protruding pop-out auto-lock on the cabinet. His secrets were safe until the next time he decided to delve into his own personal museum of what his life had been, and what, under other circumstances, it might have been.
Unlocking a drawer in his desk, he next took out a polished wooden box. Hand-made from the finest quality oak, it bore a distinctly aged and old-fashioned appearance. He knew it had once belonged to a retired sea-captain who’d sailed the world long ago on one of the old clipper ships, carrying tea and other treasures from one corner of the empire to another. He’d acquired it at an antiques auction, and had put it to good use.
Opening it with a key he kept on a chain around his neck he surveyed the contents with a look of satisfaction. Five small glass tubes, rather like test tubes from a chemical laboratory lay in a bed of green velvet within the box. Each was securely topped off with a closely fitting cork top, and sealed around the edges with strong corrosive resistant black tape. Only the sharpest of syringes would serve to pry the contents of those vials from within their glass homes. He touched each of the vials in turn, his gaze lingering upon the clear, innocent looking liquid that each one contained and then, with a smile of satisfaction on his face, he slowly closed the box, turned the key in the lock and returned the box to its allotted place in the drawer.
Picking up the telephone, the man prepared to make a call, checking the number on a pad on his desk. He smiled again as he began to dial. The game was about to begin!
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Foery MacDonell Presents: Laird Of The Mist
Laird Of The MistBy: Foery MacDonell
Time Travel
To Buy Kindle E-Book: CLICK HERE
EXCERPT: ***In The Past***
“‘Tis time then, Laird Carrick. Ye may enter the circle. Hold the locket in yer right hand—ye do ken yer right hand d’ye not?”
“Get on wi’ it ye witch,” he bellowed through the chilling fog. He could no longer see her. “I’m no a bloody idiot. I want to be on my way. No more of yer teases and twitches.”
“Aye, aye,” she chuckled, walking the rim of the circle. “Close yer eyes then, Carrick, and dinna open them. See yer Jenny as ye saw her in the pool and think only of her as ye hold the locket tight. I will speak the spell the now.”
Carrick stood rock still, the mist enveloping him to the bone as Morag circled him round and round, chanting in ancient Gaelic; words he could not understand, words which had no meaning for him.
Carrick did as he was bid, holding the locket tightly in his hand for fear of it being lost in whatever should happen. What would happen? Silly old woman; probably nothing and best just to humor her. But what if this did work, what if he was truly about to travel some 260 years into the future and actually be with Jenny? The possibility raised insecurities foreign to him. She had looked exactly the same in the seeing pool; hair, eyes, her smile, even the sound of her voice. But there was little hope she would recognize him and he must prepare himself for that.
EXCERPT: ***Present***
“Aye!” laughed Carrick. “I’m a bit much for ye. But then I always was, aye, Jenny? “nd ye look exactly the same as when I saw ye last. I would ha’ kent ye anywhere.”
“Jenny?” Cat grew serious, recognizing the name from her dreams. It made her cautious, yet curious. “Who is this Jenny you are talking about? My name is Caitriona and you somehow got yourself here to my house.” She looked him up and down carefully now that he was standing-somewhat wobbly-but standing nevertheless.
She noticed his kilt, done in the old style, wrapped about the waist, belted, and the rest thrown over his shoulder. She noticed he wore no clan badge, and his tartan looked a bit weary at that.
Good Lord, he was the most stunning man she had ever seen. In fact, he was breathtaking. From his long dark auburn hair tied with leather in a que at the back of his neck, to his massively broad shoulders and chest - a well-muscled chest that she could get a peek of through his loosely fitted shirt. Just looking at him made her dizzy. And he had an uncanny resemblance to the man in her mysterious, recurring dreams.
Wonder what he kisses like. Damn, random thoughts. Stop this. This man is a complete stranger. He could be dangerous. And anyway, he clearly needs assistance.
Showcasing Moongypsy: A Note From Kayden...
Dear Readers,
This month we’re showcasing the paranormal side of the brand new publishing-house, Moongypsy Press. I’m so thrilled to present our talent to you, and not just the authors either, but the behind-the-scene wizards that allow us to give you perfection in pages.
We’ve already gotten started, but aren’t nearly finished yet…
Books Coming Soon From Moongypsy Press, Tentative Launch: January 25th 2010
The Book Of Absolute Truths, By Trent Kinsey
Who’s To Blame, By Trent Kinsey
Witch’s Fire, By Tabitha Shay
Darkness I Weep, By Julie A D’Arcy
Deep Water Legends, By Kayden McLeod
As well, we have a gallery of Dawné Dominique’s Cover Art for MP, and Trent Kinsey posts about his desire to know about your paranormal experiences…
And also coming this month, our very own Marketing-Manager, Tina will be stopping by to tell you about what’s up and coming with us, and the owner of MP, Foery will be giving us an excerpt from Laird of the Mist, and coming to say hello! In addition, a have a few more authors lined up.
We’re all so excited for Launch…none of us can really sit still! Tehe. So come on, and join us for a ride of a lifetime!
BE SURE TO JOIN OUR READERS GROUP, OPEN NOW:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/mpreaders/?yguid=404012103
Happy Reading…
Kayden McLeod
Dawné Dominique Presents: Moongypsy Cover Art
Dear Readers,
She is also the author of a fabulous Vampire Series!!! To find out more about the artist, and her books:
http://kaydenmcleod.blogspot.com/2009/10/writing-world-of-dawne-dominique.html
Other Works Dawné Dominique has done for me:
Friday, January 8, 2010
The things that can't be explained
I'd like to believe that all of us have experienced some type of paranormal occurrence at some point or another in our lives. The mysterious ghost that turns on your radio to that strange guy down the street you'd put money on is a vampire or werewolf… There are things we witness in some of our lives that just can't be explained. For some reason, we reach an age and the belief that there are strange things that can't be explained don't exist anymore. The veil between our world and it thickens and makes it harder to see.
And yet, we suspend our disbelief when we go to the movies or read a story of the paranormal by one of our favorite authors…But, deep inside we think about that one experience…That one moment in time when we were the main character in our own paranormal adventure. We think of that radio, or freak occurrence and something inside us wants us to believe again.
And then comes that day. The day you know you put the fork on the table and as you turn to get your drink from the refrigerator, you hear the utensil hit the floor. You play it off, telling yourself you just placed it to close to the edge, but in the deep recesses of your mind, you know it was nowhere near the edge. But do you believe?
So I pose this question: What do you believe in? Have you seen a ghost? Been bitten by a sexy vamp? What about a demon that became fascinated with you?
And yet, we suspend our disbelief when we go to the movies or read a story of the paranormal by one of our favorite authors…But, deep inside we think about that one experience…That one moment in time when we were the main character in our own paranormal adventure. We think of that radio, or freak occurrence and something inside us wants us to believe again.
And then comes that day. The day you know you put the fork on the table and as you turn to get your drink from the refrigerator, you hear the utensil hit the floor. You play it off, telling yourself you just placed it to close to the edge, but in the deep recesses of your mind, you know it was nowhere near the edge. But do you believe?
So I pose this question: What do you believe in? Have you seen a ghost? Been bitten by a sexy vamp? What about a demon that became fascinated with you?
Julie A D'Arcy Presents: Darkness I Weep
Darkness I WeepBy: Julie A D'Arcy
Coming Soon, By Moongypsy Press
SUMMARY:
Vincent D’Armano, cursed by a Cheyenne Shaman with the ability to feel emotion, finds himself drawn to the very woman who could destroy him—in more ways than one.
Detective Elara Gale hates vampires after her childhood boyfriend is murdered by one and she sees him fleeing from the scene. So when she discovers the dark stranger she is already more than half in love with is none other than the vampire she is hunting, her loyalties are torn between her desire for Vincent’s touch and her duty to the law.
Can Vincent and Elara, after finding a way back in time fight to stop Epatha, his Sire, and the creature that threatens his every move, from making Vincent a vampire again, and save his mortal soul. Or will his struggle once more be in vain.
Trent Kinsey Presents: The Book Of Absolute Truths
The Book Of Absolute TruthsBy: Trent Kinsey
Coming Soon, From Moongypsy Press
SUMMARY:
If someone wrote you life’s story, would you read it?
When a vagrant enters Randy Moreland’s used book store and thrusts an ancient book into Randy’s possession, Randy finds out his life story is not what he expected.
The vagrant insists that Randy get rid of the book by any means necessary, not to even read the cursed tome. But Randy is unable to help himself as he finds the book is writing his life; his life as it is happening. The book even tells Randy of his wife’s current affair that occurs while he is at work.
Unable to catch his wife in the act and not knowing if he wants to learn more secrets about his life, Randy tries discarding the book in the river only to find there is more to The Book of Absolute Truths than its title suggests. Truths that could cause a man to kill himself or the ones he loves.
Trent Kinsey Presents: Who's To Blame
Who's To Blame
By: Trent Kinsey
Coming Soon, By Moongypsy Press
To Buy Kindle E-Book: CLICK HERE
SUMMARY:
When John Williams' daughter dies of cancer, he closes his heart to everyone, including his wife. No longer feeling like he can write children’s stories, he squanders his retirement money sitting on the couch engulfed in his loss. After John’s investment portfolio crumbles with the stock market, he takes his agent’s offer to write the biography of the reclusive author Mark Edwards. The problem is Mark does not want a book written about him.
John’s wife, Lisa, leaves him because of their constant fighting, and John learns from Mark how much blame plays a role in a person’s life. As John learns more about Mark and the author’s own personal loss, a viral outbreak occurs causing the infected to become aggressive, deadly and extremely hungry. John finds himself torn between wanting to make sure his wife is alive and the fear of becoming one of the infected.
The infection spreads and no one knows how to fight it, what caused it or who to blame.
When John Williams' daughter dies of cancer, he closes his heart to everyone, including his wife. No longer feeling like he can write children’s stories, he squanders his retirement money sitting on the couch engulfed in his loss. After John’s investment portfolio crumbles with the stock market, he takes his agent’s offer to write the biography of the reclusive author Mark Edwards. The problem is Mark does not want a book written about him.
John’s wife, Lisa, leaves him because of their constant fighting, and John learns from Mark how much blame plays a role in a person’s life. As John learns more about Mark and the author’s own personal loss, a viral outbreak occurs causing the infected to become aggressive, deadly and extremely hungry. John finds himself torn between wanting to make sure his wife is alive and the fear of becoming one of the infected.
The infection spreads and no one knows how to fight it, what caused it or who to blame.
Tabitha Shay Presents: Witches's Fire
---TAG---
IN A WORLD WHERE MAGIC IS DYING
TWO STRANGERS COLLIDE…
BLURB FOR WITCH’S FIRE
In a world where magic is dying―two people meet under unusual circumstances…
Realm of light―New to this witchy stuff, Kirrah Walker crashes her broom into a stranger and knocks him unconscious. Feeling guilty, she takes him home with her and nurses him back to health. However, she soon discovers a terrible secret―the stranger is on a mission to assassinate a witch. Now Kirrah must decide if she’ll set him free or keep him tied to the headboard of her bed…
World of darkness―Prince Stry, future King of Ru-Noc awakens to find he’s not only a captive, but captivated by the charming witch who flutters around him like a nervous butterfly. Her magick is wild and so out of control, he knows in his heart he must steal her soul, but kissing Kirrah is habit-forming.
Kirrah and Stry―magical beings who must face the fear of their past, acknowledge their future and trust in destiny in a world gone mad…
EXCERPT--Slowly, she drew her fingertip down the length. Up. Down. Up. Down. Her finger marched like a little soldier. Up. Down. Her eyes widened as ‘it’ lengthened even more. “Holy, dunghill!” Her fingertip stilled, right in the center of the now very firm bulge.
Abruptly strong fingers locked around her wrist. “You keep licking your lips and stroking, button, and I’m gonna want to do a little licking and stroking of my own. Only―it won’t be up and down. I’ll do my own sweet dance to the sound of a different rhythm. And believe me, buttercup, I know how to put every inch of it to good use.”
Kayden McLeod Presents: Deep Water Legends
Genre: Paranormal Science Fiction
Length (Word Count): 18K
PUBLICATION DATE: January 2010
E-PUBLISHER: Moongyspy Press
To Buy Kindle E-Book: CLICK HERE
Tagline:
Even a fairytale nightmare can come true, but will anyone believe it?
Synopsis:
The ruling body of vampires have let loose their top Hunters to get back an artefact. Their mission: retrieve the Dragon Stone, exterminate the Rogue and rescue the innocent human witch. Once a mission has been sanctioned, there isn’t a way to go back. Fernando was a Council employee and researcher, who stumbled upon a document suggesting a whole other race existed out there somewhere. He was tired of getting laughed at for what he sincerely believed in. No matter what risk lay ahead of him, he would prove his findings real. For his time on earth was ticking. Daphne is a human witch, kidnapped by an eccentric vampire. Scared, trapped in the wilds of Mount Robson, knowing there is danger afoot, Daphne was at centre of it.
Excerpt:
Fernando stopped too suddenly for Daphne to avoid tumbling into him. He winced when she rebounded off a tree. Great, another bruise he’d inflicted. When would this madness stop?
He jerked her around to push her against a tree, careful not to hurt her, no matter what she thought. And he could read every petrified thought tumbling around in her too human brain. This singular fact among many upset his certainty.
Was there a mistake? No, it couldn’t be that. She had thebirthmark. Tthe one in the old Native drawings and legends Fernando had found among the fairytales. They’d been buried among so much his fellow councilmen kept in the underground chambers where he worked continuously.
Her heart pounded in his ears, though severely weakened because of his feeding. The labouring hurt to hear.
Intellectually, he knew aside from his bloodlust, the primary reason why Daphne feared him was because he kept himself apart from her in every way—explaining nothing. It had to be this way. There was no choice.
How many were there before me? Are there many women buried in these woods around us?
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