Hotblood Book Tour: Excerpt and Guest Post
Hotblood
A House of Slide Novel
By Juliann Whicker
Genre: Paranormal Upper YA
A House of Slide Novel
By Juliann Whicker
Genre: Paranormal Upper YA
Format: paperback (298 pages) and ebook
Publisher: CreateSpace
Blurb: He stole a kiss from the wrong girl…
Left without a soul, 17-year-old Dariana Sanders waited to die. There was nothing left to live for, nothing to feel besides the aching cold that never stopped.
Her parent’s marriage was in shambles, and her brother, the only one who understood, the only one who knew how to make the cold go away, was gone forever.
The only thing Dariana knew with absolute certainty was that nothing could possibly be right again.
Enter Lewis Axel Nialls. Luckily for her, impossible is right up his alley.
He can save her from the forces that wish to destroy her. Of course who’s going to save him, from her?
Purchase links: Smashwords | Amazon
Guest Post:
Why did you choose YA paranormal? What is it about the genre you find appealing?
Hi! Thanks for the topic. I'm a YA paranormal/urban fantasy writer, which seems like where all the cool people are right now. I didn't mean to write YA, it's the story that sucked me in.
Like most writers, I've started a million stories, finished a few, but this one I kept coming back to, over and over again, trying to get it right, to have the characters blossom into the people in my head. It's so awesome to read a line and have it resonate because it's so right.
My writing style is actually more James Joyce than Stephanie Meyer, so I have to be really careful to clarify what is happening and people are sometimes still confused. I was encouraged to go the literary route but I don't really read literary stuff very often. I'm stuck on the first romance, the adventure, the growing up and finding yourself that YA has. It's such an important time of life with so many options spread out in front of you and you have the ultimate power to choose what your life is going to look like. I like that, the novelty, the fresh power and accompanying responsibility, it's intense.
So why I like paranormal is because I think that everyone has a superpower that we have to find. On the other hand I think that sometimes being normal is the biggest power you can have. In my book, House of Slide, Hotblood, not everyone has superpowers, but that doesn't mean that they're weak or incapable.
One of my favorite paranormal series is the Awakening trilogy by Armstrong. It's about a necromancer but she seems so normal to me, everyone seems like they're people who would be real and alive without their superpowers. One of my favorite indie books is Clarity, about a boy who can see the future, but it doesn't make his life easy, in fact it makes things more complicated. Superpowers never make things simpler, which is one of the best things about them because what about being a teenager is simple?
Thanks for letting me stop by on your blog!
An excerpt from Hotblood:
I didn’t think; I moved following the ghost of song, a melody that played out the ache inside of my chest. I ran down the stairs and through the hall and stopped at the door across from the room filled with jars. When I stepped through the door, I could make out the contours of a piano in the corner. It was beautiful— the black reflecting the light from the moon shining through the window, the white keys punctuated with sharps and flats. I was still for a moment feeling the cold that had wrapped around my heart for so long. Devlin had taken away music.
I stepped forward and knocked the bench over with my knees. The rattle as it hit the floor startled me and I reached for a leg to pick it up. Instead the leg came off in my hand, like pulling the leg off of a spider, I thought as I gripped the carved leg in my hand. Devlin had taken away dancing. My hand seemed to rise on its own volition, the leg above my head. I closed my eyes and for a second felt a flicker of the stillness and control I’d caught the first day of knitting, but the thought of Devlin taking away the beauty of music shattered the calm.
There was a crack as I brought the bench leg down on the keyboard. Devlin had taken away color. There was an anguished screech, a sharp crack as the keyboard buckled in the middle. Devlin had taken away my mother, crash, my father, smash, and myself. I kept hitting the piano, the splintered wood flying all around me. I felt the sting as slivers found my skin, my cheek, arm, but I kept smashing, until the leg I’d used was a splintered mess. I grabbed what I could of the former beauty and shoved it with all my strength. The crunch and tinkling as it struck the wall wasn’t enough.
I stood panting needing something else to destroy, grabbing fistfuls of my hair, wanting something to hurt, but I already hurt. The pain inside of me was more than any pain I could ever inflict on anyone or anything. I crumpled to the floor feeling like I’d been beaten up. In the end Devlin hadn’t just taken apart my life, he’d taken himself too. He’d taken the brother I loved and turned him into a monster. Thinking of Devlin as a monster was more than I could bear. I buried my head in my arms and cried until I thought my body was going to shake apart.
Blurb: He stole a kiss from the wrong girl…
Left without a soul, 17-year-old Dariana Sanders waited to die. There was nothing left to live for, nothing to feel besides the aching cold that never stopped.
Her parent’s marriage was in shambles, and her brother, the only one who understood, the only one who knew how to make the cold go away, was gone forever.
The only thing Dariana knew with absolute certainty was that nothing could possibly be right again.
Enter Lewis Axel Nialls. Luckily for her, impossible is right up his alley.
He can save her from the forces that wish to destroy her. Of course who’s going to save him, from her?
Purchase links: Smashwords | Amazon
Book Trailer:
Guest Post:
Why did you choose YA paranormal? What is it about the genre you find appealing?
Hi! Thanks for the topic. I'm a YA paranormal/urban fantasy writer, which seems like where all the cool people are right now. I didn't mean to write YA, it's the story that sucked me in.
Like most writers, I've started a million stories, finished a few, but this one I kept coming back to, over and over again, trying to get it right, to have the characters blossom into the people in my head. It's so awesome to read a line and have it resonate because it's so right.
My writing style is actually more James Joyce than Stephanie Meyer, so I have to be really careful to clarify what is happening and people are sometimes still confused. I was encouraged to go the literary route but I don't really read literary stuff very often. I'm stuck on the first romance, the adventure, the growing up and finding yourself that YA has. It's such an important time of life with so many options spread out in front of you and you have the ultimate power to choose what your life is going to look like. I like that, the novelty, the fresh power and accompanying responsibility, it's intense.
So why I like paranormal is because I think that everyone has a superpower that we have to find. On the other hand I think that sometimes being normal is the biggest power you can have. In my book, House of Slide, Hotblood, not everyone has superpowers, but that doesn't mean that they're weak or incapable.
One of my favorite paranormal series is the Awakening trilogy by Armstrong. It's about a necromancer but she seems so normal to me, everyone seems like they're people who would be real and alive without their superpowers. One of my favorite indie books is Clarity, about a boy who can see the future, but it doesn't make his life easy, in fact it makes things more complicated. Superpowers never make things simpler, which is one of the best things about them because what about being a teenager is simple?
Thanks for letting me stop by on your blog!
An excerpt from Hotblood:
I didn’t think; I moved following the ghost of song, a melody that played out the ache inside of my chest. I ran down the stairs and through the hall and stopped at the door across from the room filled with jars. When I stepped through the door, I could make out the contours of a piano in the corner. It was beautiful— the black reflecting the light from the moon shining through the window, the white keys punctuated with sharps and flats. I was still for a moment feeling the cold that had wrapped around my heart for so long. Devlin had taken away music.
I stepped forward and knocked the bench over with my knees. The rattle as it hit the floor startled me and I reached for a leg to pick it up. Instead the leg came off in my hand, like pulling the leg off of a spider, I thought as I gripped the carved leg in my hand. Devlin had taken away dancing. My hand seemed to rise on its own volition, the leg above my head. I closed my eyes and for a second felt a flicker of the stillness and control I’d caught the first day of knitting, but the thought of Devlin taking away the beauty of music shattered the calm.
There was a crack as I brought the bench leg down on the keyboard. Devlin had taken away color. There was an anguished screech, a sharp crack as the keyboard buckled in the middle. Devlin had taken away my mother, crash, my father, smash, and myself. I kept hitting the piano, the splintered wood flying all around me. I felt the sting as slivers found my skin, my cheek, arm, but I kept smashing, until the leg I’d used was a splintered mess. I grabbed what I could of the former beauty and shoved it with all my strength. The crunch and tinkling as it struck the wall wasn’t enough.
I stood panting needing something else to destroy, grabbing fistfuls of my hair, wanting something to hurt, but I already hurt. The pain inside of me was more than any pain I could ever inflict on anyone or anything. I crumpled to the floor feeling like I’d been beaten up. In the end Devlin hadn’t just taken apart my life, he’d taken himself too. He’d taken the brother I loved and turned him into a monster. Thinking of Devlin as a monster was more than I could bear. I buried my head in my arms and cried until I thought my body was going to shake apart.
About the Author: Juliann C. Whicker was raised with chickens, goats, and a cow named Mrs. Mooley who everyone (neighbors included) chased down the street in a small college town. She now lives in Southeastern Ohio with her four children, husband, and all the ticks and poison ivy a soul could crave.
Author links: Website | Twitter
This tour is presented by Bewitching Book Tours
Author links: Website | Twitter
This tour is presented by Bewitching Book Tours
That sounds delightful. I think I'll read it.
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