Excerpt: Thirst Blood of my Blood by RP Channing

 

Thirst by R P Channing Cover

Thirst Blood of my Blood by RP Channing

240+ Pages
WITH BEAUTIFUL PHOTOGRAPHS

~ Kira Sutherland ~

After a near fatal accident (and getting cheated on by her ‘boyfriend’), and beating up the lead cheerleader (with whom the boyfriend cheated…), and being labeled as having ‘issues’ in her school because she, uhm, sees ghosts, Kira is left with two choices:

1. Continue her ‘therapy’ (where she’s told the ghost is a hallucination and also gets her legs ogled too often…)

Or

2. Go to Starkfield Academy, a boarding school for “Crazies and Convicts” (as the social media sites call them.)

She chooses the latter…

~ Cory Rand ~

Cory Rand has not had an easy life. His mother died in a car accident when he was twelve, and so did his mother’s best friend…sort of. You see, Janice made a promise to take care of Cory just before she died, and so she lingers. Undead. A ghost that watches out for him.

Brought up in an abusive home, Cory quickly falls into a life of disreputable behavior. After his third offense (which was prompted by a girl, as usual – he has a weakness) he’s left with two choices:

1. Be tried as an adult and share a cell with a guy named Bubba (he thinks…)

Or

2. Go to Starkfield Academy, which Cory is pretty sure is run by vampires. But, hey, at least he’ll get an education.

He chooses the latter…

It’s at Starkfield that Kira meets Cory Rand, a boy with an insatiable Rage who sees ghosts, too. As well as other things, other things from his past, things that confuse him, things like fire and witches and demons.

Things he’s always ignored.

Until now.

 

  Thirst by R P Channing Banner

Excerpt

 

PROLOGUE

-1-

The Puppy Eyes

My life was perfect.

I had the perfect shoes and the perfect friends and I lived in the perfect house.

My nails were perfect and my hair was perfect (except on Sundays, it was always

windy on Sundays) and I had the perfect clothes. My lips were a perfect red and my

hair perfectly straight. My eyeshadow was perfect, my hips were…okay, and my

waist…well…also okay. Nothing was wrong in my life.

But then there was Jack.

Jack was a problem.

He needed to go. I mean, when you’re dead, you’re dead! I had told him this

endlessly. Somehow, Jack didn’t get it. I mean, I felt sorry for the guy. Sure. Being

stuck between this life and the next. But just because I found him, does that mean I

needed to keep him?

I think not!

Sadly, when Jack got that look in his eyes, that weary, almost teary (if his tear-

ducts worked) look, I melted. I just couldn’t send him away. Not even Jack knew

where he would go after he died.

Would he, like, die? As in — dead, nada, kaput, finito, gone, no more? Bye bye,

sayonara, ciao, hasta la vista baby and all that?

I couldn’t have that on my conscience. No way.

I lay on my bed, wondering what to do about him. “Jaaaaaaack,” I hollered.

“Jaaaaaaack!”

Still no answer.

“Jack!”

Jack…materialized.

His eyes rolled down to the ground. He was making those puppy eyes again.

“Jack, I told you not to do that. I told you not to play on my sympathies.”

His puppy eyes became worse.

His skin was gray and, well, dead.

“Oh, brother,” I said. “I have to do something about you. If mom finds out I have

another ‘imaginary friend’ — at my age — well, I’d die of embarrassment. But, like,

really die. Not like you.” I wondered about this. Would I die? Was Jack a freak

accident, or did all people live on like him? Think of the cemeteries…

The idea excited me somewhat.

“What would you have me do, Miss Kira?”

“Knock off the Miss Kira crap. I told you it’s just Kira.”

“Yes, Miss Kira.”

The dead. There’s just no reasoning.

“Fine, Miss Kira it is then.” Rover barked like a lunatic in the garden. No one

else might be able to see Jack, but I was sure my dog could.

“I have to do something about this,” I mumbled.

-2-

The Rat

Mike knocked on the door before I had time to leave the house. Mike was the

guy I thought (at the time) was perfect.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, baby.”

Baby, urgh — I wasn’t his baby. I dated Mike because he was the quarterback,

because girls are supposed to like the quarterback, because it’s just so darn perfect to

be seen with the quarterback, like we’re brainwashed into thinking these things from

the first romantic doll set mom buys us.

This was my previous life.

“Mike.”

“Uh-huh. Gonna let me in?”

So you can try rub me up and then complain when I don’t let you? This, dear

reader, was the big problem with Mike. The second we first kissed, his hand went way

too far south for me to be comfortable — and I pulled back.

Mike suddenly wasn’t so perfect.

“Uhm, I was just on my way out,” I said.

“Kira? C’mon, open the door.” He sounded upset. “Is there someone in there

with you?”

Boys. As if.

I didn’t know much about love (nothing, actually) but I knew this wasn’t it.

“Uhm, now’s not the time, Mike.”

“C’mon, Kira, what’s going on?” He banged harder.

When in doubt…lie. I opened the door a crack. “There’s a dead rat in the house,

Mike. Been here for days. I gotta go get some detergent and stuff to handle the

stench.”

Mike stepped back. He peered through the crack of the door.

“It’s really bad,” I said.

“I’ll drive you.”

“I’m afraid the smell” — I stuck my armpit to my nose — “has found its way all

over me. I’ll drive myself.”

“O — okay. Fine.” And then he grinned like he wanted something. “Later? My

place?”

Urgh. “Uhm, sure…er…later. Not sure when though.”

“Six.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. According to girls at school, he was apparently

so damn good looking — theoretically. But for me personally, he did nothing. Moved

nothing. Twisted nothing. “Look, I gotta go, Mike. I gotta — ”

“Kira.” His eyes grew stern. “You’ve been avoiding me…”

Bingo! Well done contestant number one! And what have you won? A brain!

I tilted my head. “Mike, look, this…rat — I need to deal with it. We’ll talk later,

okay? Bye.” I closed the door, not waiting for an answer, and peered out the peep

hole. Mike hung around for a second, shoulders wide and eyes glaring straight at me

through the door. Could he see me? Did he know I was looking at him?

He kicked something off the ground, and I had the distinct impression he

mouthed the word Bitch before leaving. But I wasn’t sure…

-3-

The Mack

“Roll down the window, Jack.” Jack was recently dead, so he still had a smell

about him. (Which only I could smell…)

I had purposely skipped breakfast. Maybe Jack would help me lose weight. I was

(still am) a little wide, although it had never stopped guys flirting with me. I know

how to dress.

But I could be skinnier.

Lucy Rogers was skinny. All bones and no boobs.

Charlene Carverton was a babe. Cheerleader. Big chest (which she pushed out

generously with a push-up — if only guys knew). Toned thighs. Charlene only dated

college boys (back then), which I still think is pretty gross for a girl her age.

“He’s not for you,” Jack said out the blue.

“Hmm?”

“This…Mike — he’s wrong for you, Miss Kira.” For all Jack’s faults (mainly,

being dead), he has a good heart. Factually, probably it’s why I kept him around at

first.

“You think I don’t know that?”

“Then why don’t you dump him?”

I braked at a stop sign. Looked left and right. “Because I’d look like an idiot. I

flirted with him and showed interest, and one kiss later I can’t stand the sight of him.”

“So dump him.”

“It’s not that simple. Kids at school — they can be vicious. I have to let it fade

slowly. If I drop the bomb on him, I’ll never hear the end of it through senior year.”

“And you care?”

Yes, I did. Forget Guantanamo, schools are rough. “You don’t understand, Jack.

Maybe school was different in your day. But in mine, well, we walk through metal

detectors.”

“Schools weren’t too different in my day.” I noted the sadness in his voice.

“You okay?”

“I’m dead.”

Right. “You miss…your life?”

Jack shrugged. “I like being with you, Miss Kira. And I don’t remember much of

my life. I think I’m in limbo.”

“Limbo?”

“Yes, like I have some unfinished business. If only I could remember…what…it

is…” He scratched his head.

“Any ideas?”

“Well, it can’t be love. If it were love, I’d be a vampire. That’s who teenage girls

fall in love with these days.”

“A vampire? That’s just what I need — two undead beings stalking me.”

“I feel I have something to do around you, Miss Kira. I don’t know what, but

something. Something important.”

I looked over at him. “Me?”

I was still looking at him when I missed the stop sign.

The Mack truck drove straight into us.

 

Book Title - Thirst Blood of my Blood

Genres:

Young Adult Romance

Paranormal Romance

High School

Vampires, Demons, Witches

Dark Fantasy

Horror

Buy Links

Amazon US
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B018M5GTLI
Amazon UK
http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B018M5GTLI

Kindle Unlimited

$20 Amazon Gift Voucher Giveaway

At the back of the book there is a giveaway link. Once the book hits fifty reviews on Amazon, one of those reviewers will win a $20 (US Dollars) Amazon Gift Voucher!

Author Bio

R P Channing started writing three years ago, but never published anything even after churning out over a million words of fiction. Thirst: Blood of my Blood is the first book he dared to publish. When asked why, he said, “Because it’s the first thing I wrote that my wife actually enjoyed reading.” When not hammering away (most literally) at his keyboard, he can be found buried in a book, reading anything from romance to horror to young adult to non-fiction to comedy.

Author Links

Website
http://blog.rpchanning.com

Twitter

@rpchanning

Amazon

http://amazon.com/author/rpchanning

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Giveaway: Reprieve by Celeste Hollister

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Title:   Reprieve
Author:   Celeste Hollister
Published:  December 8th, 2015
Publisher:  Elsekind Publishing
Genre:  Literary Fiction
Content Warning:  Graphic, non-gratuitous sex scenes
Recommended Age:  17+
Synopsis: “Don’t you think someone might miss him—that man we found?” Meredith asked. “He must have a family, someone who wonders day after day where he is and whether he’s safe and why he left. I know what that’s like to wait and wait for someone who never comes home.”
Gale gaped at her.
Meredith said, “Someone needs to know he’s never coming home.”
***
In the summer of 92, Gale and Meredith find the body of a dead black man in the river of their all-white hometown. They go for help, but when the search doesn’t turn up a body, Meredith’s father, the police chief, accuses them of making it all up. That night, Gale runs away from home, turning Meredith’s whole world inside out.
Thirteen years later, Meredith finds Gale’s picture in a magazine. Desperate to make sense of her life, she tracks him down and invokes a childhood promise that will lead them back home.
 
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | GoodReads
 
 
Excerpt from Reprieve by Celeste Hollister:
“It took all of twelve hours from the time I found your picture in GQ to getting your address from Ceravolo’s assistant,” she said.
        “Your point?” Gale asked.
        She bit down her frustration. “Okay, so maybe you just had to leave Levine because your life sucked beyond belief. I didn’t search for you after you left, not like your Dad did—”
        Gale’s eyes flicked to hers.
        “—And he did,” she said. “Until it left him dry. But I found you. I don’t usually believe in such things, but I think there’s a reason—”
        “—Ah, God—”
        “—Not like that.” She tightened her fists until the gash on her palm twinged. “Don’t you think someone might miss him—that man we found? He must have a family, someone who wonders day after day where he is, and whether he’s safe, and why he left. I know what that’s like to wait and wait for someone who never comes home.”
        He stared at her.
        “Someone needs to know he’s never coming home.”
        “Mer,” he said.
        “So I’m going back.”
        “No—”
        “—Yes. I’m going back,” she said.
        “Meredith, no.”
        A laugh broke from her, a low, bitter sound. “And you’re coming with me.”
        Gale was up again. He shoved the table. “Why?” he said. “Why would I do that? Why would I go back to the Bible-Thumping, Proud-to-Be-Confederacy Capital of Texas. Why?”
        “Because you were there—”
        “—Oh, I know what this is,” he said, stabbing a finger at her. “Miss Barbie Princess fell down and cracked her head. Found out you’re not so impenetrable in your Malibu Dream House?”
        She sputtered, speechless.
        “That’s right, I know,” he said. “I read it all on Yahoo! News. Live-in girlfriend of Jerome fucking Snow.”
        She pressed cold fingertips to her eyelids. “Oh no.”
        Gale said, “He know you’re here?”
        “No. He doesn’t.” She opened her eyes and re-focused. “This isn’t about him.”
        Gale took the empty chair beside her. “Hey, if you’re running, I’ll run, too. Got nothing tying me here.”
        “I’m not running.”
        “Really?” He traced the bandage on her forehead. “Mr. Playboy Billionaire do this?”
        “I’m not running,” she said again. “Not from him.”
        Gale looked as though he still had his doubts.
        “You remember that summer?” she said. “All the stunts we pulled, all the trouble?”
        His lips pulled into a lop-sided smile. “Spray-painting the trestle bridge—”
        “—Getting caught sneaking out of my bedroom window—”
        “—Lest we forget ramping my Dad’s Harley into the Levine Middle School Marquee,” Gale said. He rolled his shoulder at the memory. “Broke my arm—”
        “—You’re lucky it wasn’t your neck.”
        “And the shoplifting,” he said, grinning now. “From Two Sisters Christian Books. Guess I’m going to Hell for that one.”
        “You remember what you took?”
        A muscle in his neck twitched. “Yeah, I remember.”
        “You remember what you said when you gave it to me?”
        He lowered his eyes. “I said so long as you wore it, I’d be with you,” he said. “I promised.”
        Meredith pulled the platinum chain from under her camisole. The nautilus pendant swung between her face and his. “You promised.”
      
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About the Author:
Celeste Hollister is a novelist, a mom, a travel writer, and a teacher. She writes characters who struggle with racial identity and LGBT+ representation. She graduated from Texas State with a degree in writing, taught in the public school system for a decade, and lived in Korea for a year. She loves wine, cats, cookies, and traveling by train. She currently lives in San Marcos with her daughter and their friendly feline overlord.
Giveaway Details:
There is a tour wide giveaway. Prizes include the following:
  • $20 Amazon gift card
Giveaway is International. 
Ends February 4th at 11:59 PM

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Giveaway: Elementals: The Prophecy of Shadows by Michelle Madow

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Giveaway: Curses & Ash by Tiffany Daune

 
Curses & Ash (Book Two)
Release Date:  January 2016
Jester Ink Press
 
Summary from Goodreads:
Discover the spellbinding sequel to Coral & Bone…
 
A demented twin sister, a demon hijacking her powers, and a mysterious journal filled with more questions than answers—Halen needs her Guardian Dax more than ever. But if she confides in Dax, she fears he will never forgive her, not after all he sacrificed to help her vanquish Asair.Halen drowned Asair in a tornado of wings—at least, she thought she killed him. Why then does his mocking voice snake through her thoughts, enticing her to surrender her power?
 
Maybe she screwed up—big time—but she will never allow Asair to control her magick. And when Etils’ fires threaten the Earth, suspicions surrounding Asair’s death rise, igniting restlessness within the realms. Her life in balance, Halen must race time, purge the demon’s soul before flames consume the Earth or the Tari strike first.

Buy Links:

Book One:
(linked to Goodreads)

About the Author

I write stories about magick, love and dark creatures lurking in the shadows. When I’m not lost in Editland you can find me reading a book from my towering TBR pile or at the movie theater nibbling licorice. I don’t have a lucky number, but my favorite time is 11:11. I completely believe that the fortunes found inside cookies will come true and that you must be careful when wishing on stars. I live on an island, so if you want to visit you’ll need a boat, and if you want to survive the passage, be sure to bring candy for the mermaids.
 

Author Links:

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Giveaway: Clean by Mia Kerick

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Excerpt: The Boy Who Wields Thunder by Gibson Morales

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Check it out: Pistol Fanny’s – Hank & Delilah by Annie Rose Welch

 
Pistol Fanny’s – Hank & Delilah
 
By
 
Annie Rose Welch
 
Genre: Romantic Suspense
 
FREE!
 
January 21 – 25


 
 
 
 
Never fall in love with a bank robber.

Especially if she’s the one who robbed your bank, took you hostage, and dumped you unconscious at the local convenience store. And definitely not if you are the assistant district attorney of Tupelo, Mississippi.

This is the advice Hank Huckleberry Rivers would have given himself, back when he was a man who vowed to always walk on the right side of the law. The same law that had seemed sacrosanct ever since the day he and his friends watched as two men were murdered right below their tree house.

Falling in love with a dangerous criminal can have life-altering consequences, though. And when the past and the present meet head-on, Hank finds himself in more trouble than he ever bargained for. He must run to save his life, daring to find answers to the questions threatening his safety and his heart, as the killer below the tree house comes after Hank—and his pistol-wielding bank robber.


 

It’s a simple case of love in the first degree.

 
 
 

Available on All Amazon Outlets.
 
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1CNqNGE
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Even so, these mystical women in heels who were robbing and donating continued to make headlines, and banks across the states had never been busier. Men were lining up, never taking such an interest in where their money was stashed, all in hopes of catching a glimpse of them.
 
  Posters were made, memes popped up like mushrooms in a wet field online, and a comic strip was dedicated to these women.  Pistollette was bigger than life, her legs spread apart, a pistol in each hand, looking down on the world. That exaggerated smile on her face, those brown blinking eyes.
 
  Her sisters were right beside her, blowing things up, winking and playing the boom box, tap dancing by a door, flipping on counters. Close to their hairlines, a zipper, and a clear thin line that separated their two sides. The good and the bad. The zipper was the key to their true identity. And below them all were men, amplified cartoon hearts floating from their chests, stars in their eyes, and lust in their smiles.
 
  The slogan for these women—not only do they steal your money, they collect interest on your heart.
 
  The entire world knew who they were. Headlines read: Maybe coming to a bank near you.
 
  Propaganda hung in alleys, on fences, above urinals, and below in underground train stations. They were up in pool halls, in dive bars, and on the walls of the swankiest clubs in New York. They had become art. Modern day sophisticate meets old lawless ruggedness. A huge billboard hung in Hollywood, showing the girls appearing out of smoke: Stealing the hearts of the rich guys, giving to the poor ones. Pistollette and her Sirens will take you by storm! They were for the good guys of the world who cared enough to figure it out.
 
  They were elusive and mysterious, and there was a reward for any man who would dare remove any of their masks. The world was sure underneath the masquerades were the most beautiful faces any man had ever seen. No one ever tried. They were too stupefied in their presence. They were truck drivers’ and bikers’ dreams, doctors’ and lawyers’ fantasies.
 
The hoopla went on and on.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Born and raised in New Orleans, Annie has a habit of shortening her words and telling long stories. She speaks with a southern flair and cooks with it too. At the tender age of twenty- one, she hitched up her wagons (took her first plane ride) and moved out west to the big shake (California).

Her writing career began one sleepless night when she imagined a gorgeous woman and a man with maniacal hair floating above her like lightening bugs falling from the sky. Curious about them, their story, and why they were floating around in her head, she sat down and penned (typed) her first novel, Marigny Street. A dream come true for her, she hasn’t stopped writing since. She loves a damn good love story, always has, no matter what the genre. She is particularly moved by imperfect love that in its own unique way is perfect, the notion of love at first sight, soul mates, and things that are generally out of the norm.

When she’s not writing she enjoys dabbling in photography and finding new, inspirational music to add to her collection. Deciding on a whim to hitch up those same wagons, Annie currently resides in Texas (where everything is bigger) with her husband, daughter, and their two peculiar dogs, Boudreaux and Tabasco (who, call her crazy, bark with an accent).

For lagniappe (a little extra), a virtual cup of café au lait and beignets, please visit Annie’s website: 

www.annierosewelch.com

She can also be found on Facebook & Twitter.
Facebook Page:  https://www.facebook.com/AuthorAnnieRoseWelch
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7159582.Annie_Rose_Welch
 


 
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