FEED YOUR READER Giveaway Hop!

That's right! It's another wicked giveaway hop! This one is rather straightforward. An ebook only giveaway meant to give all those with Kindles, Nooks, iPads, etc. a chance to catch some awesome ebooks for reading! Umm, sounds delicious to me.

So here's the giveaway items! Yes, ITEMS. I'm spreading the love further than butter across hot toast. 

One (1) of you peeps will win a digital copy of ILLUMINE

One (1) of you peeps will win a digital copy of OBUMBRATE

And don't forget- there's a whole bunch of us on this hop! So, make like a bunny and hop about and enter the rest! 


a Rafflecopter giveaway

#WhoIsLilix?

Do you think you know who Lilix is? 

So earlier today while I was slumming it out at work, you know doing the usual chew-on-pen-caps and sell stuff routine, I had a little thought bubble visit me. Yet again, it’s about Lilix. My mind cannot stop infatuating about writing her story. I can’t take down enough notes, scribble on enough paper, graphically design enough kick ass promo material to satisfy what I am officially calling Lilix Disease. I even said OML (Oh My Lilix) at work today, for crying out loud. 

WOMAN, GET OUT OF MY HEAD. I HAVE OTHER THINGS TO WRITE. 

It’s so weird, it’s like this freaky love-hate relationship thing with her. I’m in love at the fact that I can still after roughly 6-7+ years pull her out of my brain like pulling my phone out of my back pocket, and almost physically hear her talk to me, tell me her stories. 

But then it sort of dawned on me that no one else really knows what the hell I’m talking about. Kind of like putting a Chinese native and French native in the same room and letting them figure out how to give each other directions to Pizza Hut. It’s just one big clusterchunk of whaaaaaaat?

So in light of my dawning knowledge that yes, no one knows who the heck this girl is and all she can do, I’m tasking you with a challenge. Either on Tumblr or Twitter, post your thoughts on what, or who, you think Lilix is. Maybe she’s an alien, and I’m totally writing a Mars sci-fi story. Maybe she’s a siren and freezes water and that’s why the first book is called A Shard of Ice. Or maybe I’m just tossing you these bizarre red herrings to get your minds moving on the idea. Either way, share your thoughts with me, and don’t forget to use #whoislilix with them so I can find/see them! 

A Sneak Peek of RIVEN!

Are you ready for a taste of Riven? A bunch of Facebookers sure were the other night, and it sort of occurred to me that I've been leaving the cool kids who have been creeping on me from the start (aka blogger followers) the little juicy piece I've been sharing. Soooo, without another moment to waste, check out the snippet of Riven!

____________________

"You came back," she said, a hint of surprise in her tone. Her red lips spread into a small, yet bright smile. "I knew you'd see me again."

"Where are we?" I waved a hand through the water, keeping my eyes on my carbon copy. "Is this all a dream?"

Her smile widened. "Not exactly."

"Then what i

s it?" A shock ran through my body. "Am I... am I dead?"

A flash of something, sorrow perhaps, ran through her eyes. She placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "That's your choice."

"Oh, so there's a choice now if I die? Not sure if Death will like me messing up his collections roster," I muttered sarcastically. A heaviness was beginning to seep into my body, the all too familiar sensations of life blossoming on my skin. Bruises I hadn't even realized I was missing rapidly pooled in patches over my body, each one like a bee sting.

The lovelier version of me remained unharmed, hand still on my shoulder. Either she had one hell of an iron stomach, or she was used to seeing bruises spawn on people in record time. Then again, if this was all my imagination, maybe I made her up to be stronger than me.

"Essallie, look below," she told me. Turning my gaze below the both of us, all I saw was an endless stretch of black. A mystery, hiding secrets far beyond my reach. "What do you see?"

"Am I supposed to be looking for something specific?" I asked. "You know, Atlantis, the remains of the Titanic..."

"No, you idiot." The prettier version of me snapped, eyes blazing to a deep red. "Look harder."

I took a second look at the black expanse below. At first, nothing but darkness stared back at me, and I had half the nerve to call out my copy on messing with my head. But a closer look brought out shapes, features of a person, chained to the ocean floor.

Without words, I knew who it was. How could I not know that hair, the set of those shoulders?

I looked up at my copy in horror. "What is he doing here?"

"You have a choice," she whispered, a grin of pure malice spreading across her face, her enjoyment barely containable. She raised a hand and pointed above, then pointed back to the very thing ripping my heart in two. "Swim upward and save yourself, or swim down and save him."

"And if I choose none?"

"Then you are more foolish than I took you for."