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❤ INDIE BOOK FEST 2017 ❤ September 28 th – October 1st

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Over eighty fabulous authors, panels and workshops for both authors and readers . . . two
amazing parties and a huge signing . . . where in the world can you find all of this awesomeness
in one event?

Indie BookFest, of course!

This premier author-reader event, in its fifth year in central Florida, takes place September 28 th
through October 1 st at the Westin Lake Mary.

Indie BookFest is the only non-organization- affiliated author event to offer a dedicated Industry
Day, with representatives from a variety of service companies presenting workshops,
participating in panels and meeting with authors. This year, industry reps include those from
Written Word Media, Draft2Digital, Robin Reads, Bublish and more.

But IBF isn’t simply an author education conference. We also offer an entire evening and day of
Reader Appreciation panels and presentations—PLUS FanFare, an evening where the authors
entertain the readers.

And if that wasn’t enough, there’s also a three-hour signing that is free and open to the public, on
Saturday from three to six.

Tickets to Indie BookFest 2017 are available now. There are several options for readers and for
attending authors:

–INDUSTRY DAY Ticket: This option provides admittance to and participation in all the
panels and workshops offered on Friday, September 29 th . Topics will apply to both new and
established authors, as well as to others in the publishing field. This ticket allows attending
authors and those interested in exploring the possibility of authorhood to participate in the entire
weekend; it also includes FanFare, Reader Appreciation Day participation, the signing and
Saturday night party. Thursday night’s Dinner with the Authors is not included.

–VIP TICKET: This option provides admittance to and participation in all aspects of Indie
BookFest, including access to the entire weekend EXCEPT the Thursday night dinner (available
at an additional charge), including the Green Room, all panels, workshops, parties and signings.
VIP ticket holders also receive a special VIP swag bag.

–GENERAL ADMISSION TICKET: This option includes access to FanFare on Friday night,
reader workshops and panels on Saturday, the three-hour signing on Saturday, and the Saturday
night party, as well as access to the Swag Tables.

–YOUNG AUTHOR EVENT: The Young Author session will take place Saturday, September
30, from 9:30-11 AM. Attendees must be under 18 to attend. A panel of authors will lead the
workshop, which will explore all nuances of writing and publishing a book. Very Important:
This is an add-on ticket to the main event. You must purchase either a general admission/VIP
or Industry Day ticket to add this event.

— THURSDAY NIGHT DINNER WITH THE AUTHORS: Join authors from Indie BookFest
2017 as we kick off the event with a lovely buffet meal in a beautiful setting.

For more information and to purchase tickets, visit our website and Eventbrite page.

Historical Saturday New Release: “A Hundred Tiny Threads” by Judith Barrow

“Chains do not hold a marriage together. It is threads, hundreds
of tiny threads, which sew people together through the years.”
Simone Signoret.

Source: Historical Saturday New Release: “A Hundred Tiny Threads” by Judith Barrow

The Slant Six by Christopher F. Cobb

Sci-fi / space opera thriller

Date Published: March 31, 2017

Publisher: Darkwater Syndicate, Inc.

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The year is 2252 and Loman Phin is in trouble. A washed-up channelship racer turned freelancer, he hits pay dirt with his latest mission: a fortune is on the line if he can transport forty-three kilograms of human skin to a remote villa on Pluto’s moon, Nix. Little does he know his very life is at stake when he gets caught up in an ancient feud, chased by a space vampire, and forced into a death-race by the king of Ceres. Meanwhile, danger is always hot on his heels in the form of a massive space freighter out for Loman’s blood. With just his wits, his friends, and his beat-up cruiser, the Slant Six, Loman sets out on the most dangerous adventure of his life.

Excerpt

Loman squeezed the control stick, his knuckles turning white. The Slant Six blasted from the tunnel directly into traffic, crisscrossing the expanse of Island Earth Grand Central Station. The little channelship was a mere speck of dust inside a giant tumbling drum of organized chaos.

“Twelve o’clock!” Portia pointed to a great lumbering whale of a black Bentley that sailed across their trajectory, blithely unaware that both ships were on the verge of becoming unrecognizable husks of burning scrap.

Loman jerked the stick to the left and pushed it downward. With an abrupt drop they angled sharply underneath the leviathan. As she lifted off the seat, Portia felt her stomach clench into a knot. She clapped her hands to her mouth to keep from vomiting and kept them there until the feeling passed.

The Slant Six shuddered as its roof scraped the Bentley’s hull; the shrill noise curled her toes. No sooner had they cleared the Bentley than another vessel, with the image of a blazing comet stenciled on its side, cut into their flight path.

“Comet!” Loman snapped the stick back and to the right. They shot upward with a starboard roll, just missing the Comet as it barreled past.

Loman leveled them out in time to avoid a row of cruising channelships awaiting their turn to launch. The Slant Six weaved in and out of the slow moving ships so quickly that the line appeared to be standing still. Loman continued to navigate the quickly eroding pattern of traffic inside the station.

The mouth of the main tunnel came into view, with open space beyond it.

“There she blows!” he said. “Our egress to free space.”

Portia gave a weak nod. Whatever flaws the man had as a human being, she was thankful he more than made up for these with his piloting skills.

Island Earth Grand Central was utter bedlam as the other pilots reacted to the rogue channelship. Several ships spun in directionless circles while others bumped each other like a flock of feeble-minded geese in flight. Sirens from the station patrol blared, but it was already far too late for anyone to catch the Slant Six sprinting toward the exit.

The colossal dexelized head of the Abacus materialized to block their departure from the interchange. You’d think her gently drooping face would look a hundred times sweeter on such a titanic scale, but nothing could be further from the truth. At fifty meters across, those normally soft wrinkles became deep, dark chasms; her rubicund cheeks expanded into twin reproductions of the planet Mars—acrid and inhospitable.

“Now hold on there, sugah,” the trembling speech of the Abacus boomed throughout the station, filling it full of saccharine and horse sense. “If you don’t change direction, you may end up where you’re heading. Slow down and land at the nearest pulpit. What do you say, sweetie?”

“How does she know it’s me?” Portia asked aloud without having meant to. She leveled an angry glare at Loman. “You idiot, why didn’t you cloud our i-dents?”

“Don’t sweat it, Little Miss Moonbeam,” Loman chuckled. “It’s a canned warning. She doesn’t know us from Adam.”

Loman rocketed the Slant Six up the left nostril of the monstrous Abacus. He’d gotten them safely into the tunnel, and so all they had to do now was survive these last couple kilometers of intermittent darkness as they blasted down the flashing passageway.

Punishing vibrations shook the Slant Six, rattling her from stem to stern. Sitting on her hands, Portia gripped the bench seat even tighter. The shaking grew worse by the millisecond, threatening to tear them apart.

“Damn,” Loman growled through the noise. “Not again.”

“What is it?”

“Ah, the vibration damper ring tends to slip when using emergency propulsion for too long… it happens.”

“It happens?” Portia was aghast. “That’s all you can say? It happens?”

“Don’t worry, she can take it.”

A sizeable chunk of outer skin plating tore off the nose of the channelship. The twisted section of hull slammed into the forward transom and proceeded to bounce along the length of the Slant Six, banging and clanging as it went flying off into the blackness. Portia and Loman looked at each other, she with worry and he with what had to be feigned confidence.

“Not an essential piece, not really.” He smiled weakly. “Nothing I can’t handle.” Loman begin furiously adjusting his rheostats. “All it takes is some extra pressure to compensate for the weakened hull segment and bingo! We’re good to go.”

The Slant Six was still shuddering as she shot out of the open crater beyond the domes of Island Earth. Portia felt the g’s push against her chest as they broke from the weak gravity of the moon. At last, they catapulted into the cosmos, free from the constraints of artificial atmosphere and away from confined spaces.

Loman wasn’t smiling as he made a few more corrections on a console glowing cool blue from the hot ice beneath its surface.

The vibrations instantly stopped and the roar of the ship’s emergency thrusters was silenced. All went quiet as sanity finally returned to their encapsulated world. The absence of sound was pure manna for Portia’s ears.

“We’re using her magneto-static drive now,” said Phin as he let go of the control stick. It retracted back into the floor panel.

The Slant Six settled in and drifted silently into the expanse of stars.

“That’s better.” Portia smoothed down her hair and flattened out the wrinkles on her disheveled gown. “You will intersect with the channel and head to the Kuiper Pass near Triton. You’ll get more instruction once we’re there.”

“Whatever you say… whoever you are,” he muttered.

About the Author

Born and raised in West Palm Beach, Florida, Christopher Cobb ventured off to the wilds of New York City for several years to experience the world of acting. Finding it a cruel and inhospitable world, he hid high in the Appalachian Mountains of North Georgia for a time. Having grown weary of snow and perilous black ice, his life path took him back home to south Florida where he earned college degrees at Florida Atlantic University. He now lives in Jupiter—the city, not the planet—with his true love and talented artist, Alicia, their two weird cats, Simon and Weezy, and his amazingly wonderful daughter, Emma. He is a member of the Bloody Pens Writers Group, as well as the Florida Writer’s Association and intends on writing more exciting books for publication. All this makes Christopher a very happy man indeed. Visit him at www.chrisfcobb.com.

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From Ferguson to Charlottesville to Bratislava: Hopes for the State of Our Union

Source: From Ferguson to Charlottesville to Bratislava: Hopes for the State of Our Union

Resisting the Heartbreaker by Christine Glover

Contemporary Romance

Date Published: August 17, 2017

He’s breaking down her resistance one sexy moment at a time…

Director Trevor Maguire is determined to protect a secret that could destroy his family. The only person he trusts to help him is his sexy helicopter pilot, Samantha Bennett. She’s got troubles of her own and desperately needs cash so her company won’t go belly up. Trevor saves her business so he can use her company to do research for a movie while also conducting his investigation with her assistance.

Samantha’s got a non-fraternization rule in place for a reason. No way will she get involved with a client. Sure, she’s attracted to Trevor, but he’s only with her temporarily and she’s not to into casual flings, even if the hottest man in Hollywood wants her. They try to resist each other, but they can’t deny the heat flaring between them and their sizzling chemistry spirals into an intense connection.

When Trevor unearths the truth about his past, he’s ready to move forward, but he’s got a difficult choice to make—will he go it alone or will he bring the woman he loves with him?

About the Author

Christine Glover is the author of tantalizing, sensual, emotional contemporary romances. She enjoys finding the silly in the serious, making wine out of sour grapes, and giving people giggle fits along with heartfelt hugs. When she’s not writing, you can find her traveling the world, cooking gourmet food, and desperately seeking a corkscrew.

Contact Links

Purchase Links

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INDIE BOOKFEST 2017

IBFbanner1

Indie BookFest, of course!

This premier author-reader event, in its fifth year in central Florida, takes place September 28 th
through October 1 st at the Westin Lake Mary.

5thanniversary

And if that wasn’t enough, there’s also a three-hour signing that is free and open to the public, on
Saturday from three to six.

Tickets to Indie BookFest 2017 are available now. There are several options for readers and for
attending authors:

— THURSDAY NIGHT DINNER WITH THE AUTHORS: Join authors from Indie BookFest
2017 as we kick off the event with a lovely buffet meal in a beautiful setting.

Indiebookfestpjparty
For more information and to purchase tickets, visit our website and Eventbrite page.

Holy by Abbie Krupnick

Horror /contemporary dark fantasy

Date Published: April 15, 2017

Publisher: Darkwater Syndicate, Inc.

Gus Stevens has the worst of both worlds. By night, he resides in the Dream World, a place steeped in magic and exotic dangers. By day, a giant snow-lizard stalks him in the Real World, looking to make Gus its next meal. In order to regain control of his life, young Gus must undergo a psychoanalytic exorcism. But this comes with a high price—he must break away from everything he has ever thought was real. Author Abbie Krupnick blends the magical and the mundane in this avant-garde dark fantasy where nothing is as it seems.

Excerpt

The high-pitched scream of a predatory bird echoed from the direction of the Valley. The eagle was approaching at break-neck speed, a maroon streak under the stars. Then it braked and circled lazily overhead a few times before alighting opposite Gus, talons gripping the edge. Gus heard the volcano groan, its anger filling him. The mountain shuddered, its sides growing warm. He slipped out of his cocoon of heat, felt naked without it in front of the bird.

“Hello,” the Magician said, examining him with green eyes. “Why don’t you come down and we’ll talk about things in the grove.”

Gus wondered how much he had overheard.

The mountain was heating up by the second. In a few minutes the smooth stone would scald his feet. A pale orange glow flashed briefly at the bottom of the vent, then colored to yellows and reds too fast, too soon.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Language whispered.

“Don’t listen to him, Gus,” the Magician said. So the Magician could hear, too. What an unsurprising comfort that was.

“Boy, in a few moments, I’m going to flood the whole World with molten rock. Make your choice quickly, because this is the only chance you’ll get.”

“Gus Stevens, you get down from the volcano this instant!” the Magician ordered sternly. Gus couldn’t help snickering at that.

“What are you going to choose, a lifetime of pain here, pretending you’re happy when you can’t even talk about your sham of happiness?”

“I’ll give you a nice, relaxed ride down to the grove. Your Mothers will make your favorite foods. I’ll even make Spear Mother take off her helmet for you.” The last offer disgusted him.

“Gus, he’s a monster.”

“This renegade spirit is crazy.”

“He’s whoring out Spear Mother.”

“I would do no such thing. I’m simply explaining to my son—”

“Boy, friend, vessel, host, house, my stronghold, listen to me: Which do you want? The misery this poor excuse for a Person offers you or freedom?”

I don’t know! I don’t know! I don’t know! I don’t know!

“Easy, Gus, easy,” the Magician murmured. Gus shot him a poisonous look, took several deep breaths while staring at the rising column of magma. A despairing question anchored him.

I’m going to suffer whether or not I’m free, right? he asked the rock illuminated like a burning mineshaft. The magma rose higher. The Dream World will go under and I’ll be the same?

The magma’s rise halted as Language stopped to think.

“Well,” it replied. “You’ll have me.”

What difference will that make?

“Do you promise not to be angry if I tell you?”

Sure.

“The truth is, I don’t know,” it said, and the magma resumed its journey upwards. It had to be less than seventy feet away. Sixty-five. Sixty. It stopped again. “I don’t know what the Waking World is like except through what I’ve overheard you say.”

So how do you know you’re important there? You don’t even know if it exists.

“I don’t. But I trust Mathis. You do, too, don’t you?”

Dumbstruck, Gus replied, I guess.

“And he told you the mountain would explain everything?”

Yes. He didn’t tell me that the mountain was possessed by a crazy spirit calling itself Language incarnate.

“Exactly, Gus! Well done!” the Magician wheedled, “Don’t trust it. Trust ME. I’ll give you all the knowledge you’ve ever wanted from me if you return to the grove.”

The magma hadn’t started to rise again but its heat was baking his face.

Please, Language begged, now inside his head. Please.

You don’t care what happens to me. So what if I kill myself, right? You lose your chains. I’m still screwed.

I’ll be trapped in your soul again, but YOU will be free to use me. Which is how it should be.

Then you’re exchanging one prison for another.

If you were in my place, you’d be right, but the rules are different for me. Please, Gus. Let me go.

He had nothing to say to it.

Please, Gus. Please. PLEASE.

It was hysterical, its voice rising higher and higher with the magma. His ears were ringing again.

PLEASE. PLEASE. Let me go. Let me go. Let me go. LET ME GO.

Its hysteria was getting to him. He couldn’t stop his own tears from leaking.

Please, Gus. Please let me out. LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT!

It was screaming bloody murder. He covered his ears as though this would muffle the sound inside his head. He was ready to smash the sound out of his skull on the vent but Language stopped him with a whimpering, Please.

“Please please please please please!” the Magician mocked, voice muffled. He kept chanting “please please please” as he cleaned his feathers. Gus tuned him out, waited until the bird had finished so he could see the hate on Gus’s face. Long-hidden vows to repay the suffering his mentor had caused him boiled to the surface. He chewed them all into a simple order to Language.

Now.

About the Author