Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Bewitching Hannah by Leigh Goff


Being a witch is the last thing she wants…


Bewitching Hannah
Leigh Goff

Publisher: Mirror World Publishing

Publish Date: September 17, 2017

Genre: YA, Fantasy, Romance


About Bewitching Hannah:

Sixteen-year-old Hannah Fitzgerald has always known she is descended from a troubled legacy of magic. Although a stranger to her coven in Annapolis, she is no stranger to grief and denial. However, when an ancient prophecy reveals the rise of a young, powerful Chesapeake witch and the impending death of another, she realizes she can no longer afford to suppress the magic that has taken away so much. She seeks out the frighteningly scarred, yet mysterious W, a Calvert descendant who is destined to change her life, but even he cannot prepare her for the danger that lies ahead. Engaged in a deadly game without knowing who her true rival is, Hannah isn’t certain she will survive, and if she loses she may lose everything, including the ones she loves.

Read an Excerpt:

Lightning flashed, followed by a rumble of thunder, jolting me alert. A tempest churned over the Chesapeake Bay and was rolling toward town. I stared at the clouds, ready to calculate how much time we had before the rain hit. Another bright flash of white-hot lightning forked across the purplish-black sky. One, two…twenty.

Boom.

The storm was at least four miles away. I pressed a hand over my chest, feeling the thumping slow.

I glanced at Aunt J, who was no longer bopping her head to the bad music. Instead, she blinked over and over, and rubbed her eyes with one hand.

“If you’re tired, I can drive.” Who needed a license when I’d already mastered a moped along with the Green Briar golf carts?

Her slender fingers searched for me as if I were a ghost she could only hear. She grasped my arm tightly.

“Hannah?” Panic drenched her voice.

My eyes widened. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t see. I mean, I see something, but it’s not the road. What’s wrong with me?”

I peered out the windshield. A distant telephone pole grew bigger as her foot stuck to the accelerator.

A frightening swell of adrenaline flooded my veins, sending my heart into a frenzy. “Stop!” I yelled, but she was frozen with fright. I grabbed the steering wheel and threw my leg over to jam on the brake pedal.

It was too late. Absolute silence fell over us in the grim second before we plowed into the pole. My lower body slammed into the dashboard while the seatbelt squeezed hard against my ribs. Metal groaned. White bubbles deployed. Glass shattered with a scream. Or maybe the scream was mine. The car groaned to a halt with a hiss and clank.

Stillness settled over us. My head was reeling as I checked myself for injuries. Bursts of pain sparked from my chest and leg.

“Hannah?” Aunt J’s quivering voice reached out.

I pried my eyes open. She had escaped her seatbelt. Her lips and hands were trembling, but I saw no blood or broken skin. Inwardly, I sighed with relief.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

I sucked in a shallow breath. “Me? Fine,” I managed, not wanting to stress her out, but I struggled to breathe and my left leg was wedged under the intruding dashboard.

She reached over, wiping her hands across my cheeks and forehead, dusting away crumbs of glass. She touched her trembling fingers to the seatbelt release and pressed on it, over and over. “Come on, dammit. Let go.”

I pushed her hand away, restraining a whimper. “It’s okay. Go get help.”

She nodded and with a hard push, shoved her door open. “I’ll be right back.”

A heavy silence fell over the car’s interior until a hiss sounded from the engine. Within seconds, the smell of burning oil seeped in through the vents.

One toxic breath went deeper than I meant it to. “Ow!” I coughed and writhed beneath the unyielding seatbelt like a five-year-old having a tantrum. Panic swept over me as I struggled for freedom.

Stress vibrated deep in my gut. Self-soothe, self-soothe, I reminded myself. The air grew thicker with burning oil and a starburst of pain wracked my body. I was going to die. Unless…

No. How could I even think it? There had to be another way because what if I couldn’t send it back? What if it took me to the same terrible place it had taken them?

I peered out the windows, searching. There was no one. I turned my focus on the glove box. Maybe Aunt J kept a knife in there or a pair of floral scissors. I pushed the button hard, again and again. Jammed. My heart raced.

A burst of smoke puffed into the car’s interior. I coughed and closed my eyes. The pressure on my leg intensified and the sickening fumes filled me with dread. Eff it. I balled my hands into fists.

I recalled the spell I’d overheard my dad utter once. I recited it in my head before casting, making sure I had it right. “By the power of fire, I do summon and churn, and call thee forth to blaze and burn.”

I stopped breathing, trying to sense any changes. I felt no different. And then it filled my core like a warm sphere of energy. Quickly, the power expanded into a blazing inferno. My back arched, pressing me harder into the seatbelt as my internal fire surged. Every cell jolted awake. My heart pounded out of control as I imagined channeling the smoldering energy. Suddenly, my hands tingled with intense power. I swallowed hard and aimed my fingers at the strap. The fiery threads trickled out in a wiggly pattern until I steadied my hand. The seatbelt burned orange, then cooled to black before separating.




Amazon      Kobo     BN 

Meet the Author:

Writing Enchanting Ever-Afters ♥


Leigh Goff grew up in Maryland where she resides today. Her writing is inspired by an eclectic childhood, a vivid imagination, and compelling historical events. After taking several writing courses in college and attending professional writing workshops after she graduated from the University of Maryland, she joined the Maryland Writers' Association and Romance Writers of America. 

Connect with the Author:

Facebook:

Twitter:

Amazon US: 

Goodreads Author Page: 

Blog: 

Pinterest:

Publisher Website: 

Author Website: 

Follow the tour to read reviews, exclusive excerpts, guest posts, and book spotlights:

Halloween Flash Fiction with Aubrie Nixon - Secret of Souls Haunted Halloween Spooktacular




          The feeling the Iter gives me is unique. I have tried other drugs, of course, but the Iter is specific with its high. I see things that are unexplainable, things that any sane person would call disgusting. But since I am not sane, I continue to crave the dark and disturbing visions that the Iter gives me.
          Some of us don’t survive the Iter. You die flying on a cloud of pure bliss as you fade into oblivion. Those of us who survive our first encounter are treated like kings and queens. We are rich beyond measure and could have anything we could ever dream of. Riches, cars, clothes, mansions, fame–anything we want, it is ours. It is the least they can offer us. But, after having the Iter, we want nothing but to feel the release and music it brings. We are the Iter’s muses, and we need it as much as it needs us. We are one.
          I lie there with black leather pants and a dark lacy bra on. My hair is done in an elegant bun, and I have been painted with enough makeup that I might rival them for their beauty. I cannot feel anything from the neck down. All of the feeling in my body is gone. But for the time being, I can see things as they do. The world is brighter. The colors I can see are vast–more than any human brain can even begin to fathom. The first time I tried the Iter I wanted to cry at the beauty that surrounded me. But of course I couldn’t. I have no control of my body. I can do nothing but stare at the lovely room, and them.
          The room is a garden in a large greenhouse near campus. The grassy ground is the most lovely shade of pure emerald green. I can see dew drops on the flower petals that surround me. I lie on a bed of fresh, blood-red roses on a table in the middle of the garden. The trees are of varying heights and colors. Pinks and reds, shades that I dream about when I am not here. The night sky is a dark purple, and the stars shine brighter than even the sun.
          The mirror on the ceiling shows me the scars on my pale skin. They are of varying colors and age. The ones that mark my stomach are many sizes for different organs. I watch as they place plates and trays around my body, filled with bloodied meats and liquids. I am the main event tonight, the center of everyone’s attention. Therefore, my table is the most exquisite. I watch as the masked ones bring in the guests. They are the Elite, the powerful ones. They have paid more money than I could ever accumulate in a lifetime to be here. They are here to see me, to be able to be next to me. It is the highest honor to be the main event.
          The music starts as the Iter takes hold, and I become its puppet. I am surrounded by a dozen of them. They are dressed in finery and expensive jewels. They whisper excitedly as they take in the spread on of the table, and their eyes rake over me hungrily. The chef welcomes them and introduces me: Elana Arravey, 20, of Norse descent. Diet: Sparkling water, strawberries, pineapples, and low protein. The crowd applauds excitedly. The chef murmurs a few words in their language, and then she cuts into me. Blood trickles down my chest as she cuts open my skin. Servants catch my blood in champagne flutes, and pass it out to the ravenous crowd. I feel the chef’s hand inside of my chest, as she reaches inside me, through my sternum, and grabs my heart. I watch as she pulls it from my chest. It pulses with life, blood squirting from the valves, painting the chef’s pale, white hand like fondue. It’s beautiful. She places my heart in a bowl.
          The bidding starts at 1 million. I watch in the mirror as the heart is bid on by the room. The pulsing never stops, filling the bowl with my blood. The crowd grows frenzied as the bidding war continues. 2 million, 3, 4, 5 million. We are down to three guests left bidding. 6, 7, 8 million. Two guests. 9, 9.5, 10 million. Going once, twice, three times, sold!
          My heart, sold for 10 million dollars. A hush goes over the room. It is rare that a heart goes for 10 million dollars, but it is the first time this organ has been touched. It is a trophy to take someone’s heart for the first time. The one that gets to taste my heart comes to claim his prize. I wish I could see him. I hear the crowd murmur their excitement as the chef takes the bowl from the servers and places my heart on a silver platter. I can hear him lick his lips as he reaches for my heart. I smile as he licks it, the blood dripping from his mouth. Just a taste.
          It is over in mere seconds, as the chef whispers words in their language again and places my heart back into my chest. She positions her fingers over my wound, and my flesh magically closes. She motions for the servers to carry me away, into the kitchens. I want to cry out because I know my time on the Iter is coming to an end. My legs start to tingle as it wears off, and before I can ask for more, my world goes dark.
          I awake in my bedroom, the alarm blaring like a foghorn. I open my eyes, everything around me blurry from the sleep in my eyes. I sigh as I sit up slowly and place my feet on the cold floor. My body is numb except for the dull ache in my chest. I smile at the pain, and start the shower.




Secret of Souls
Age of Endings
Book 1
Aubrie Nixon

Genre: New Adult fantasy

Publisher: Winterwolf Press

Date of Publication: November 24, 2017

ISBN: 978-0988585157

Number of pages: 250
Word Count: 79,000

Cover Artist: Laura C. Cantu
and Andreea Vraciu

Book Description:

The Empire of Lucent has stood for centuries as a beacon of strength and light. But now an otherworldly realm has unleashed an army of nightmarish creatures upon the peaceful empire, spreading a lethal plague called The Decay which consumes its victims mercilessly from the inside out.

The king of the Empire of Lucent calls upon “Lady of Death” Zephera Travelle—an infamous assassin with a weakness for braided cinnamon bread and a striking aptitude for murder and mayhem. He sends her on an impossible quest to find the one person who can concoct a cure and save the realm from total annihilation.

Together with her best friend Zadkiel, mage extraordinaire Brenner, girly city-guard Oriana, and broody warrior Daegan, she embarks on a journey that will test her wits, will, and sanity. Along the way, she discovers that no one—and nothing—is as it seems, including herself.

About the Author:

Aubrie plays mom to the cutest demon topside. When she isn’t writing she is daydreaming about hot brooding anti-heroes and sassy heroines. She loves Dragon Age, Game of Thrones and reading all things fantasy. She runs a local YA/NA bookclub with 3 chapters, and over 200 members. If she could have dinner with anyone living or dead it would be Alan Rickman because his voice is the sexiest sound on earth. He could read the dictionary and she would be enthralled. Her current mission in life is to collect creepy taxidermy animals because she finds them cute and hilarious. She resides just outside of Washington DC.

Monday, September 18, 2017

Betwixters: Once Upon A Time by Laura C. Cantu- Haunted Halloween Spooktacular






Betwixters:
Once Upon A Time
Betwixters Book One
Laura C. Cantu

Genre: Middle-grade fantasy

Publisher: Winterwolfpress.com

Date of Publication: July 1, 2017

ISBN: 978-0-9885851-9-5
ASIN: B071F5M61D

Number of pages: 288
Word Count: 85,189

Cover Artist: Laura C. Cantu

Tagline: When you believe, magic awakens.

Book Description:

A mysterious forest near the cozy town of Herogate, England is more than what it seems. The gnarled trees appear to breathe, gloomy storms follow you around, and prowling shadows come to life before your very eyes. Referred to as The Dark Wood by the townsfolk, the forest is guarded by a strange old man and creatures not of this world. Even the locals never set foot in the bewitched woodlands, and trespassers have a way of turning up dead.

When Noah Walters moves to town with his parents, his father—a contractor working on a top secret project for a private security firm—makes Noah promise to never enter those woods; but he doesn’t know that Fate has other plans.

Noah and his new best friends, Ethan and Skye, are chased into The Dark Wood by Grucker, a schoolyard bully, and their lives are changed forever. They are forced into the heart of the forest, where they discover a lost fairy who needs their help to find her way back home before it's too late.

Join Noah and his friends on a magical adventure as they race against time and plunge headfirst into the unknown. They are challenged with secrets to keep, a dangerous mission to accomplish, and a test of courage that will bring them face-to-face with magical creatures they thought only existed in fairy tales.

This is more than a tale of discovery, mystery, and excitement; it’s an epic adventure that will usher you into a world where magic is in the air, in the trees, and in every heart.



Excerpt:

“The old man’s breath came out in puffs of white clouds as he raced through the frigid night air. Wind snaked through rustling branches and caused the forest canopy to sway as if the trees were made of rubber. His muscles burned, but that didn’t slow him down. A portal had opened somewhere nearby, he could feel it in his bones. All he had to do was find it and kill whatever had traveled through it. He hoped it was that faerie he had met in his dreams. What was her name again? Neb? Neev? No, that wasn’t it. He stopped running and plunged his hand into his pocket. “Neevya,” he whispered. “That were her name.” Somehow, he knew she was the cause of all the trouble he sensed coming his way. He had felt it approaching for months—a huge black, storm-like premonition that roiled with deception and danger. It was a storm he was set on thwarting, even if it meant unleashing the chondour he had trapped in his dungeon. He pulled his hand out of his pocket and inspected a small iron trap.  “If she comes through these here parts, this ought take care of ‘er.” He stooped, placed the trap on the ground, and covered it with a dry, dead leaf.
An ominous howl echoed in the distance. It was a cry that made him cringe. He’d heard it before, about eight years ago, and he knew death was sure to follow. As much as he had tried, he’d never figured out where it came from or what manner of creature had made it. But there was one thing he did know for sure; a common wolf didn’t make that kind of sound. He started to run toward the howl to investigate, but abruptly stopped to cast a faerie attracting spell over his snare and to make sure his trap was set just right.
The howl came again, this time louder. He glanced over his shoulder and rushed toward it.”


About the Author:

Laura C. Cantu is a multitalented artist, visionary, and humanitarian. Throughout her life, she has felt an overwhelming desire explore the mysteries of the unknown and to expand her awareness and experiences. By allowing her perspective to shift and change, Laura has learned to unleashed her imagination and use it to guide her through creative processes. She passionately follows her dreams and has achieved high levels of success in her various careers. As a professional dancer, Laura won six national titles and placed fourth in the Professional Argentine Tango World Championships. She also stretched her creative muscles as a visual artist with drawings that toured across the globe. Adding to her diverse accomplishments, Laura earned her master’s degree in Oriental Medicine in 2012, which has afforded her opportunities to assist many along their journeys to realizing wellness.

Despite her already jeweled career, there is another passion Laura delights in—the art of storytelling. Her first young adult fantasy novel, Xandria Drake: Ancient Rising, earned rave reviews and a Goodreads' book of the month award. Currently working on The Vathylite Realms, Laura is harnessing and focusing her energies to craft engaging stories that are meant to bring joy, inspiration, and awareness to all who read them.

Laura is on a mission to live a life of inspiration, truth, and empowerment. With future books pending release, she continues to dance as a hobby, study energetics and wellness, and explore her imagination. Laura also enjoys drawing and creating 3D art and animations, hiking, meditation, playing guitar, and spending time with her family, friends, and pets.









a Rafflecopter giveaway

Deep in the Hollow by Brandy Nacole - Haunted Halloween Spooktacular


Willow’s Rest

Katie held her nose against the stench of Seth’s vomit filling the car.
“Dammit Seth, put your face farther out of the car,” Josh said, while rolling all the windows down.
Once Seth was able to stop dry-heaving, he sat up and leaned his head against the seat. “Shut up ass, you’re the one who picked that poison factory of a truck stop to eat at.” He closed the door, causing the stench to waft through the air again.
“We’re going to have to find somewhere to stop,” Seth grumbled.
Katie looked at the clock and sighed. Two weeks ago the three of them had applied for a job working on pipelines in Montana. Being from a small town of five hundred and fifty people had given them few options and leaving the dead-end town seemed like a dream come true, not to mention no one would be there to miss any of them. Seth and Katie had lost both their parents five years ago in an accident, and hadn’t seen the rest of the family since. Josh’s family didn’t give a shit about him. They cared more about their meth lab and the losers that frequented their home. So yeah, leaving was the best thing that could happen to the three of them.
The problem now was getting there. They’d left yesterday morning bright and early, excited for the journey, but so far, things were not looking good. They’d only gone eight hundred miles out of a twenty two hundred mile trip, all thanks to the flat tire incident yesterday, and now this.
“Come on Seth. You sure you can’t suck it up?” Katie asked.
“Are you freaking kidding me? How about I just start puking in the car, or better yet, in your lap?”
“God Seth, don’t get your panties in a wad.” Katie shook her head and gave Josh a pointed look. As much as she loved her brother, he could be a real tit bag.
Josh intertwined his fingers with Katie’s and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
“We will be fine,” he reassured her. “We still have three days to get there. That’s plenty of time.”





Deep in the Hollow
Chindi Series
Brandy Nacole

Genre: Paranormal

Publisher: Brandy Nacole

Date of Publication: September 15, 2016

ASIN: B014U7BMU0

Number of pages: 232
Word Count: 80,000

Cover Artist: The Book Cover Machine

Tagline: Greed has a price, and the dead do not always rest.

Book Description:

Let me share some wisdom with you. There is evil in this world we cannot see, not because it is hidden from us, but because our minds refuse to accept its existence. But once we are able to get past what everyone says should not be, it becomes our responsibility to stop the evil we now see.

This insight wasn’t given to me until a year after I lost the most important person in my life: Bryce Rowan. Now, after another death at the same spot where he died—the overlook, where the mysterious lights dance amongst the trees—I begin to wonder if they were accidents after all.

Lucky for me, I’m not the only curious one in town. Cooper, a ghost hunter (aka chaser), and his sister Jada have moved to town and are starting to ask questions.

But the more we find out about this town and the people who live here, people who I have known my whole life, the more I begin to think there are those who would rather keep the evil secret, even if it means we will never be safe, and that more will die.


Amazon     BN     Kobo



Excerpt:

Prologue
July 11, 1972 

Once again I’ve fallen prey to MaryAnn’s pleading, and I follow her out the window, my stomach churning with dread, a contrast to her excitement. I don’t know why I let her talk me into these things. She’s always getting us into trouble, has been since we were little. Yet, here I am, still following her after seven years of mistake after mistake. There’s something about her I can’t say no to. I’ve always thought of her as my sister, not my cousin, and considering we were born only two days apart, we are more like sisters—look like it too. But still, even sisters tell each other no every once in a while. Not me. This time though, I should have.
Our tiny flashlights give off little light in the dark forest, mine unsteady as it shakes in my hand. Thorns scrape at my skin and I look back, hoping to see a light in the cabin on and my grandfather coming out to see where us girls have run off to. No such luck. The small, two-bedroom cedar cabin is dark, its frame nothing but an outline against the trees around it.
“I think we should go back,” I whisper, my voice trembling.
“Will you quit whining, Ester? This is no different than walking through the woods during the daylight.”
I beg to differ. During the day, the green leaves look welcoming, not over-powering and creepy like now. I don’t feel trapped and afraid when walking these familiar woods when the sun is shining bright, but now I do.
“But, MaryAnn, grandpa said—”
“He was just trying to scare you,” she hisses, as she shines her light on a raccoon scavenging for food. It rushes off to hide from what he perceives as danger and we continue on through the thicket.
No matter what MaryAnn says, I know she’s wrong. I saw the fear in our grandfather’s eyes as he told us the story of the thing that haunts these woods. MaryAnn had been enthralled as she sat by the fire, her eyes bright, her body unmoving as she absorbed every word. I had been terrified. Our grandfather has never been a skeptical man, always saying rumors and legends are nonsense. “What you don’t see with your eyes, don’t witness with your mouth.” So to see the fear in his eyes as he witnessed the story he told us tonight is enough to convince me he was telling the truth, and not just some tale to scare his grandchildren.
An owl hoots overhead and a chill slowly creeps up my back, making me shiver.
“I think we should wait. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
MaryAnn ignores my pleas, knowing I won’t go back alone.
The leaves rustle as a slight wind picks up. I can no longer see the outline of the cabin. I don’t know if it’s from my fear, but our lights seem to grow dimmer, making the darkness feel as if it is weighing down on us.
A small clearing comes into view, with timber laying hazardously along the ground.  
“We are almost there,” MaryAnn whispers. “This is where grandpa and his workers have been logging close to the overlook.”
Good. Once we reach the overlook and she sees it is the same during the night as it is during the day, we can go back to the safety of the cabin. I can already feel the relief of being back under my blankets, eagerly waiting for morning, with the fresh smell of biscuits baking in the oven and bacon frying in the pan filling the air.
Whoosh.
“What was that?” I ask, panicked, and spin around in a circle, my flashlight shaking with more force.
“Ester, please stop this nonsense. I’m sure it was nothing.”
Once on the other side of the clearing, we start the mile hike up the incline and once again I wish we had stuck to the main road instead of taking the shorter path through the woods. The ground is slick from the rain we had yesterday, and with every step I take, I lose two as I slide back down.
MaryAnn grabs my hand, steadying me, as we both use our weight to climb the impossible hill.
Whoosh.
“Did you hear that?” she asks, her voice a bit higher than before.
I close my eyes, my stomach tensing. She better not be playing any games with me. I will rat her out in a heartbeat if she is.
“Yes. What do you think it is?”
Before she can answer, a strange mist builds in front of us. I examine it closely and point it out to MaryAnn, but before it takes on a shape, it’s gone.
Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.
A strong wind spins around us, and not caring about what MaryAnn thinks, I let go of her hand and tumble back down the hill, scared for my life. My feet are unsteady as the land levels out again and I fall over a log. Seconds later, MaryAnn lands on top of me.
“Come on!” she screams, terror in her voice. “We have to get back to the cabin.”
“What did you see?” I demand, as I race after her, dodging fallen limbs. But she doesn’t answer. She keeps running, looking back to make sure that I am close behind her.
A strong force comes from behind me and I’m shoved into MaryAnn’s back, making us both lose our footing.
Whoosh.
Tears pour down my face as we scramble to our feet, our flashlights lost in the darkness. We try our hardest to run through the darkness with no light to guide our way. MaryAnn grabs my hand, our sweaty fingers clinging as tightly as they can while we try to make out where we are.
When MaryAnn screams, her body jerked away from me, I feel as if I can’t breathe. Something is trying to take her from me. My grip on her hand tightens, my small twelve year old frame pulling as hard as possible against whatever is trying to tug her away.
A movement behind her catches my eye as we struggle, but I can’t make out who or what it is. It’s shrouded in a black cloak, practically invisible under the blanket of night. I do make out the grey mist behind it, as if it’s drifting and waiting for its prey.
My heart thrums, feeling as if it’s trying to escape out of my chest, and my throat grows tight as I choke on my tears. MaryAnn screams, begging me not to let go of her, as our fingers begin to slip.
Why can no one hear us? We have to be close to the cabin.
A sharp pain explodes in the back of my head, and I pitch forward, disoriented. My legs slip out from beneath me, and I can feel myself losing consciousness. MaryAnn’s fingers slip out of mine as I land against the damp leaves on the ground. The last thing I hear is her pleading for me to save her.



About the Author:

Gemini Brandy Nacole is a writer of urban fantasy and paranormal books published by Ponahakeola Press. A reader from a young age, Brandy has always loved folklore and stories of beings that go bump in the night.

Whenever she’s not reading or writing, Brandy is spending time with her family and friends, throwing around crazy ideas, teaching, and singing like a rock star at a concert for no one else but herself.  She loves plants, but unfortunately is a killer of anything that requires water but can’t voice (scream) their needs. 






a Rafflecopter giveaway

Death: Awakening to Life by Christine Contini - Haunted Halloween Spooktacular



Death: Awakening to Life
Book 1
Christine Contini

Genre: Nonfiction/Spirituality

Publisher: Winterwolfpress.com

Date of Publication: October 31, 2017

ISBN: 978-0-9885851-2-6 paperback

Number of pages: 196
Word Count: 80,849

Cover Artist:  Andreea Vraciu
and Laura C. Cantu

Tagline:  Peek through the veils to the other side.

Book Description:

What happens after we die' has been a question that has haunted humanity since the dawn of abstract thought. Many theories have been offered, but finding evidence has seemed impossible.

In Death: Awakening to Life, Christine Contini takes us on a journey through life, death, healing, and rebirth. At thirty-one years old, Christine was diagnosed with Relapsing Remitting Multiple Sclerosis.

A newfound spirituality gave her the power to overcome the habitual belief systems that had sanctioned her body to become so unwell. Through a daily practice of meditation, she began learning how to change her habits and thought patterns, but it wasn't until seven years later when she experienced a sudden cardiac death that the real changes began to occur.

The contact she had with the recently deceased led to her concept called 'energetics' - a system that could be used to bring balance and health to the living. Without her experiences in working alongside the deceased, her concept would not have been fully developed.

In Death: Awakening to Life, the journey Christine will lead you through is one you will never forget; hopefully, the accounts will inspire you to start asking questions about your own views of the world and your place in it. The proof we've all been seeking for what really exists after death is here in this book. Once it's realized, the possibilities for healing and living can also be fully grasped. Christine reminds us that we have a responsibility to live our lives to their fullest potentials, and she presents the wisdom that can help us do it.

This book is a gift that we've all been waiting for. Go on, don't wait any longer. Find yourself, find your health, and find your truth.






Stolen from Sleep, A True Story

That spring night in Las Vegas had only a slight chill and require a light cover to sleep. As my husband, Joseph, crawled into bed and woke me up in the middle of the night, I felt unusually hot. I shoved the covers off and pushed them into the middle of the bed so he could use them. It left me sleeping with no protection other than my slip of a nightgown.
I woke just enough to notice a thin layer of sweat misting my body and wondered if I was getting sick. My husband mumbled something I couldn’t understand, which would usually wake me completely because I am a light sleeper, but this nigh was different. My head felt heavy and groggy—like I had been drugged.
I felt the bed move.
Instead of opening my eyes, I indolently rolled to my stomach, falling immediately back to sleep.
Later, the bed moved again.
My head shifted, but this time the movement was so jarring that I easily woke. My pillow slid out from under my cheek. I assumed Joseph must have taken my pillow by mistake, so I reached to grab it back. I raised my head to see Joseph on his stomach sound asleep, his head facing the wall away from me.
Interesting.
I was just about to fall back to sleep when I realized it wasn’t the pillow moving at all. It was me! I was sliding towards the end of the bed. Someone had a hold of my left ankle and was pulling me!
Oh, this has to be a prank, I thought. Maybe one of my teenagers or their friends were trying to pull some kind of prank. I jerked my foot up to see who had a hold of me. It wasn’t a who at all. It was a what!
Gripping my ankle was an oversized hand. The fingers were twice as long as the fingers on a human hand. The very thin finger bones were joined together by enlarged, bulbous joints. In the dim light of night, the entire hand was covered with tightly pulled dark, green and black, charred skin. I struggled to get a better look at my attacker, but it jerked me, making it impossible to look over my shoulder. My legs rose off the bed, into the air.
My throat suddenly seized. I gasped for air, but it was impossible to inhale even a single breath.
Desperate, I panicked and fought against the strength of the creature, my attempts to call out for help reminding me of the useless calls I made in my most tragic, blood curdling dreams—the kind when I would scream with all my might, yet no sound would come out.
The creature continued to pull as I was being moved against my will. I reached for my sleeping husband, clawing at the sheets and frantic to wake him. When my hands passed over his legs, I couldn’t find my grasp. It was as if my fingers were forbidden to close around his form. I flailed my arms and kicked my legs, still attempting to scream or even take a breath. If I could just break free, I could wake Joseph, and he could help me. He was the brave one. He was the protector.
My panic had reached a state of being manic as my attacker held me by one ankle in the air over my bed. Its super human strength seemed impossible and added to my terror. Knowing I was being abducted, and there was nothing I could do to stop it, made me feel so frightened, I wondered if my heart might explode.
The creature suddenly lifted me through the roof of my house.
Yep, right out the roof.
I saw the attic as I passed through the insulation and the air ducts, and then the roofing tiles passed before I could comprehend I was out in the open air.
Wait, if I passed through the roof without feeling it . . . then I am okay. This is just an out of body experience. Aw, heck!
I had been out of my body many times before, so this realization put an immediate halt to my terror. There I was, dangling, arms flailing, my ankle in the grasp of this being, rising over the roof of my house and into the air.
Now able to relax and no longer afraid, I could actually enjoy the view. I was pleased to be gliding through the sky on a grand adventure.
The event took a sudden anti climactic turn when the being put me down on the ground. I was down the street about 15 houses from mine. I had to squint as the brightness of the morning sun proved to be too much of a sudden assault on my eyes.
The clarity I had experienced while first gliding in the air was gone and the heavy drugged feeling was back again. It seemed as time had passed, but I didn’t know how—pieces of my memory were missing. On top of that, I had no idea how to get back to my house. Eventually, I passed out and woke to my alarm which signaled it was time to get the kids ready for school.
Under some sort of fascination, I animatedly recounted the entire event for Joseph when he awoke. It was amazing to me that he was completely unaware of my entire experience having happened right next to him. The experience was so extreme and true to life, I checked his legs to make sure there weren’t any claw marks on them.
“Surprisingly, this was one of the better night’s sleeps I have had in a long time. How do you feel?” Joseph asked. “Any feelings of drugs left in your system?” Fortunately for me, it was never an issue whether he would believe me or not, thank God. He went on to share his own information about sleep paralysis and other paranormal things he had watched on television. He often stayed up after I went to sleep, and late night shows about the paranormal and the unusual were in abundance.
I was relieved that my entire tale had made sense to him.
That would have been the end of my story if I had felt safe. However, even though my experience had ended peacefully enough, it took me two days to shake my extreme fears of being kidnapped.
I found myself afraid to have the curtains open, certain that someone was watching me. I stayed in without running any errands. When out of the house, a feeling of unmanageable vulnerability overcame me, and drove me back indoors. My ability to concentrate was gone and I feared someone could, at any moment, take me against my will.
Loud sounds gave me flashbacks to unclear memories, which led to feelings of unexplainable fears. I had to consider that I had actually been abducted, held against my will.
I hadn’t had any reference to indicate how long I had been gone other than the rising sun that illuminated the sky when I had been released blocks from my home. That meant I hadn’t been set back down immediately. It had to have been hours later. The only way I was able to cope with these uneasy feelings was to ‘switched off’ emotionally. Every seeming predatory behavior by anyone around me evoked deep sensations of anger and injustice.
Just when I was finally starting to feel okay, I got an odd call from a friend named Alita. (Her name has been changed to protect her identity.)
She seemed excited and confused when she said, “Christine, I just heard you were taken from your bed the other night to face the ancestral council. They didn’t even return you to your bed!” She paused, “That’s not like them. Are you okay?”
Alita was not any ordinary friend; she claimed to be from a “special” and ancient bloodline. When she started speaking about her people, her ancestors, I had always left the conversation, not out of disinterest, but I intuitively felt the need to safeguard her privacy, and I didn’t want to go snooping around in something that wasn’t my business.
This time was different. I wanted to know everything, but couldn’t bring myself to ask a single question.
I stood with my mouth open, not knowing what to say. The only other person who knew about the incident and the trauma I experienced was Joseph, and he hadn’t shared my story with a single soul! How could Alita know all of this unless . . .
Alita spoke to fill the silence. “Look, I know it’s scary. I told them not to take you because you are intuitive and would know, but they didn’t listen. They just wanted to make sure you were genuine. They’re just trying to protect my brother and me from other humans. I am so sorry. I made them promise it would never happen again.”
I was frozen in disbelief. How could all of this be real?
But then again, how was she able to describe the creature’s hands to me as if she had seen them with her own eyes? She even knew that the grasp felt like dry ice on my body, something I hadn’t even told Joseph.

I had to make myself forget. I had to push this from my mind or I might never feel safe again. After all, I had been kidnapped, taken right out of my bed in the middle of the night.

About the Author:

Diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis age 30. – GONE!

Heart attack, age 37. No oxygen flowing through the body for 45 minutes. – DIED!

Revived, but professionals declared she would live in a vegetative state. NO WAY!

Christine Contini is a living miracle. After a massive heart attack left her without hope of recovery, the doctors informed her family that she would live the remainder of her life in a vegetative state.

The medical professionals are still baffled as to how Christine not only defied death, but came back to full consciousness and was able to work her own way back to her divine health. Through her own pursuit of studies, she also completely freed herself from multiple sclerosis.

Christine was raised Catholic and had no previous knowledge of the esoteric world. However, during the heart attack, Christine had a Near-Death Experience (NDE) which gave her access to the understanding of how energy works. The knowledge she received was unparalleled in her daily existence. As a result, her ability to assist others in healing both the energetic patterns and physical ailments that had often challenged them for years was first born.

Christine is a healer, a speaker, a teacher, and the author of Death – Awakening to Life (the first of three books) in which she shares her amazing story and the knowledge she received after returning from beyond the veil. She leads “The STUDY”– groups for people who want to take their understanding of how to heal themselves far beyond the book; and she offers 5-day, 2-week, and 30-day programs for people who want to go deeper in their own personal process to create real and lasting change.





a Rafflecopter giveaway
 
BLOG DESIGN FOR FANG-TASTIC BOOKS BY BARBARA.
RED CORSET © HALAQUINN ARCADIAS. GOTHIC NIGHT © ASHEN SHARROW.