J.A.Mes Press Accepting Flash Fiction Submissions For Halloween Anthology

marissaames:

There’s less than a month left to submit, and this goes toward an amazing charity.

Originally posted on Blue Harvest Creative:

If you love thrills and chills, J.A.Mes Press invites you to submit your creepy creations for its 2014 Halloween flash fiction anthology entitled In Creeps The Night. All proceeds will benefit Mothers Without Borders. Deadline for submissions is August 14, 2014.

JP

J.A.Mes Press is a publishing company dedicated to finding and promoting new and up-and-coming authors with a focus on anthologies. J.A.Mes Press is a non-profit endeavor conceived to enhance writers’ careers and outreach through professionally published works. All royalties benefit the charities individually chosen for each anthology. Writers who contribute to our publications experience the benefits of getting their work out to readers. In 2013, we produced the anthology Tales by the Tree, which is available on Amazon.com and BarnesandNoble.com.

We are proud to collaborate with the professional design team of Blue Harvest Creative to produce books that writers can proudly include on resumes without incurring any out-of-pocket…

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Call for Artists

troubadours

The day is fast approaching. Vassal: the Second Book of Tir Athair will be available in two more months! If you live in Reno, you can buy the print version on September 20th at Grassroots Books, Reno’s best independent bookstore!

To celebrate the release, I am teaming up with Grassroots to coordinate a medieval street faire for the enjoyment of all Tir Athair fans and Grassroots customers. Join us September 20th for entertainment, demonstrations, and books from me and other local authors Jean Booth and Kurt Winans. We’ll have storytellers to entertain the kids while parents shop, and even food vendors to help you through your midday hunger.

We invite you to a lineup that already includes Old World Spinning by Beck, storytelling by emerging author David Nightingale, acrobatics by marital artist Nancy Bouffiou, Renaissance-inspired music by Jaidyn MacDonald, and singing by the Nielson Princesses. The schedule is almost full, but we have a few spots left.

I’m looking for demonstrators. I need:

  • actors
  • artists
  • singers
  • dancers
  • musicians
  • educators
  • craftsmen
  • anyone who can represent medieval, Renaissance or Old World skills for the enjoyment of others.

We intend to publicize this event with press releases, sign twirlers in medieval garb, Facebook and Twitter announcements, and professional posters designed by Blue Harvest Creative and placed in local independent stores and coffee shops. We even hope to attract media coverage. If you participate in this event, your organization will be noticed!

This is an outreach gig, not a paid gig. You may hand out information for your venues or sales endeavors. We’ll provide a large bowl labeled “Ye Olde Tips” to help you out. Per Grassroots’ needs, we cannot offer you space to sell your own products. We also cannot involve the public in any demonstrations which may be dangerous, such as combat or acrobatics. You may involve the public in the more innocuous arts and crafts. We will ask all demonstrators to sign waivers.

If you would like to take part in this fun opportunity for artistic outreach, please message me at marissaames4@gmail.com or on my Facebook author page! Let me know what demonstration you wish to offer, and we will see if we can add you to our lineup.

But hurry! This schedule must be finalized by July 31, 2014!

If you are a Tir Athair or Grassroots fan, watch this blog or my Facebook page, or sign up for Grassroots’ newsletters to get updates on the street faire. We hope to see you there!

Book Signings and Renaissance Faires

Who says Reno doesn’t have culture?

This Sunday, I’ll be signing books at the Nevada Opera Renaissance Faire, alongside local authors Jean Booth and Kurt Winans. Also available are books from award winning authors who write with a fantasy edge: A.D. Trosper, Hannah Steenbock, Katie Jennings, LaDonna ColeNatalie Gibson, and Sophie Moss.

Would you like free signed books? Read on to find the secret buzzwords!

Nevada Opera’s Renaissance Faire

An Artown Event

  • Sunday, July 6, 2014
  • 10am to 9pm
  • Wingfield Park (on the river)
Ren faire color

Banner by Blue Harvest Creative

An excerpt from Vassal, available September 20th, 2014:

Aislin marched arrow-first into the hall. The sun, now peeking full into the window, danced along the high points of the men’s faces. They reacted the same as all men did when facing Aislin’s bow. Their somber expressions became dubious, and they retreated a step.

Darrion demanded, “What do you want?”

The same husky voice rasped, “We seek wheat and rye.”

Immediately Darrion replied, “We have stores to share, if you are needy.”

Aislin’s arrow sagged. She didn’t often feed beggars, for she rarely had ample food for her own fief. “What do you—No, we don’t. We have to plant.”

“I’ll take care of this,” Darrion said.

“But we don’t—”

“I said—” He set a hand on her bare shoulder. “—I’ll take care of this.”

Shrugging his hand away, she lowered her bow.

The men stood patiently. One, blond with long hair tied back in a tail at the base of his neck, carried an axe slung on his belt. The other, with a mane of dark, scrubby wool on his face and his chin, carried a one-handed arming sword. They watched Aislin’s bow, but they did not approach.

“The grain is in the barn,” Darrion said. “Allow me to retrieve my boots, and I’ll fill a sack for your journey.” Passing by Aislin on his way back to the room, he whispered to her, “Try not to shoot them.”

Her mouth fell open, and her head turned to watch him leave. One of the intruders shuffled his feet. Aislin aimed her arrow at him and cocked her elbow back. “Don’t move,” she snarled.

Did you catch the buzz word? In case you didn’t:

I’ll be giving a swag bag to the first person who approaches our booth and proclaims, “I seek wheat and rye.” Within Vassal, those words promise trust within a secret and illegal organization. On Sunday, they might win you a signed copy of Minstrel, swords and tiaras for up to 5 children in your group, and a tote bag courtesy of Blue Harvest Creative.

Author Jean Booth is also offering a swag bag. Visit her website for her buzz words:

Please drop by the Renaissance Faire. Listen to amazing music. Visit vendors for some tantalizing food and unique wares. And come see us! We’re offering a free sword or tiara for every two books you purchase, and have many stories to suit your personal tastes.

“What do you like to read?”

Cover Reveal: The Ter’roc

Cover Reveal: The Ter’roc

We’re revealing the new beautiful cover designed by Blue Harvest Creative for The Ter’roc: Evolution, an epic science fiction novel about an ancient race of aliens that created the human species thousands of years ago. Steeped in science, historical fiction, philosophy and biology, this book introduces an intriguing new dimension to our own world and worlds beyond.

 

And now…the reveal

 

In 3,

 

2,

 

1…

 

turroc

 

ABOUT THE BOOK

This novel is a continuance of the most popular story from Ruins of the Mind, the science fiction anthology of short stories written by Jason P. Stadtlander and published in June of 2012.  The Ter’roc: Evolution is the first in a three-part series which contains references to ancient structures such as the pyramids of Giza, Stonehenge and more, but reveals the larger purpose behind these structures steeped in mystery—purposes often wondered about but never before revealed.

When a teenage tomboy named Shawn ventures into a storm drain near the railroad tracks in Swampscott, Massachusetts, she stumbles upon more than a few blue glass pieces she is foraging. She comes face to face with Sam’loc of the alien ter’roc species, the initial link to discovering ancient hidden truths and a key revelation concerning humanity’s past. This initial face-to-face with Sam’loc draws Shawn unexpectedly into a world never before encountered—knowingly at least—by others. In the process, she is called upon to challenge more than she ever thought possible and rises to the occasion in ways she never expected.

The ter’roc and ishkan are ancient alien species which seeded the Earth with humans tens of thousands of years ago. These two species have remained hidden, however, watching over and guiding us unobtrusively when needed. Only now are they making themselves known to help defend Earth against a threat too powerful for humans to fight alone.

Along the way, we will find that there is much more to humanity than simply being human.

Dead Leaves

This was written for the Fall Flash Festival, hosted/judged by Eric Martell and Daniel Swensen. As we self-published authors can do, I’ve also submitted it for consideration for J.A.Mes Press’ Halloween Anthology.

Click Image for Photo Credit

Click Image for Photo Credit

Dead Leaves, 1000 words, by Marissa Ames

Trees rustled overhead, and dry, papery leaves tumbled over Angie’s face. White-gold sunlight angled beneath the canopy. A chill afternoon wind brought the aroma of dust and impending frost.

Angie rolled her head to the side, collecting autumn leaves in the congealed blood where the bullet had grazed her temple. She groaned at her crippling headache.

Something groaned in response.

Motionless beneath the autumn carpet, Angie glanced around. Heavy feet moved through the leaves with a rhythmic step-shuffle. Her fingers flexed, longing for her Glock. A half-decayed man, with scalp and hair hanging from the right side of his skull, ambled among the twice-dead.

The wind blew through the grove, stripping leaves from her inert body.

The zombie whirled around. Milky eyes fixed on her. Twisting its body until it faced her, it shuffled between leaf-covered mounds of rotting flesh.

Angie held her breath as the zombie swayed above her. It opened its mouth and groaned. Flecks of rotten lip fell off and skittered down the channel between her nose and cheek. Angie gagged and coughed. The zombie flinched, tilted its head, and bent down to observe her. They stared, her blue gaze to his milky white, as she tried to keep from blinking. The zombie stood up straight with a creaking of shrunken tendons. Groaning softly through the hole in its throat, it turned away.

She closed her eyes against the nauseating sunlight as the walking corpse explored the killing field. Shivering within her M65 field jacket, she slowly lifted an arm. In response to the rustle of leaves, the zombie turned again. It groaned in acknowledgement. Angie wiggled her fingers, but the corpse ignored her and continued its exploration.

With her eyes on the zombie, she sat up and pushed the leaves away. It did not respond as she stood, staggering from a sudden rush of vertigo. Angie widened her stance and cupped her hands over her eyes, smearing sticky blood over her face. She pulled her hands back and cursed at the gash across her palm.

She pressed her palm to her mouth, licking the salty, coppery blood away. The flavor soothed her, calmed her headache.

With her lips sealed over the wound, she shuffled between zombie bodies, toward the sunset.

This morning the unit had traveled east from the barn, following the old country road beside the broken-down white slat fence, keeping their guns trained before them. The old maple groves had been a refuge during the summer, unpopulated before the outbreak and free of zombies after. Now the old groves were no safer than the rest of Vermont. Angie’s unit, determined to defend their home, had used the most agile of them as bait. He had ducked between rotting hands before the rest of the unit opened fire on the herd of undead.

Sweat beaded on her forehead and she shivered beneath her jacket. The sun winked between maple trunks as she trudged down the abandoned road. Her old black combat boots plowed through mounds of red and orange, shoving the leaves aside. She pulled her hand away to cough then pressed her lips back against the freshly bleeding gash.

Gray against the flame of autumn, the barn rose higher on the other side of the little hill. She blinked her blurry eyes, watching the wooden shingles bob up, then down, then up higher in rhythm to her rough gait.

Piles of blackened wood lay around the barn, where the unit had burned the twice-dead to avoid contamination. An old Dutch oven sat on a rock beside the dedicated cooking fire. Nobody roamed the yard.

Angie coughed as she pressed on the latch. She rolled her neck back and forth, shivering when the wind dipped its chill fingers into her coat and down her back. Grabbing the handle with two sticky hands, she pulled the barn door open.

Sleeping bags carpeted the middle of the barn, well away from the walls. Angie found Todd’s bag, right beside the 4×4 support beam where he liked to hang his .357. She shrugged out of her jacket and sank to her knees. Pulling back the ripped and patched flap, she slid into the bag and buried her face in the quilting. It smelled like him. Angie shoved the fabric against her nose and inhaled deeply.

The door creaked open, and the last of the day’s light peeked in. Ten living bodies shadowed the entrance. Angie listened for the slick sound of cowboy boots along the barn floor. Todd led the unit into the barn, sliding his .357 from his shoulder as the door creaked shut.

The wooden stock of the gun tapped against the 4×4. Todd’s big, callused hand shifted on the beam as he kicked his boots off. Sliding against the beam, Angie made room for the man had promised to love her forever.

Who had promised to never hurt her.

Todd knelt down, and his hand landed on her feverish arm. He froze. Inhaling a slow, cautious breath, he slid his rough palm against her sweaty skin, stopping at her paracord bracelet he had given her months ago.

He traced the bite mark just below the bracelet, his fingers glancing over the edges of dying flesh. Todd’s hand trembled.

It trembled just as it had this morning, when he had witnessed the bite. When the zombie had grabbed her wrist and sank its teeth into her flesh. His hands trembled so much that the barrel of the .357 jerked wildly as he took aim. Todd’s eyes clenched shut. He pulled the trigger.

The bullet had only grazed her.

Todd now yelled and jerked back, but Angie grabbed his wrist. She held tight with newfound strength and vigor, with muscles not yet decayed, in the most dangerous phase of the transformation. The phase Todd had tried to avoid by shooting her when she was first bitten.

Todd twisted and fought as the unit scrambled about in the darkness.

Gunpowder flashed as her teeth sank into his skin.

Read other stories from this contest here:

Selkie_Spell_Audio_Banner

The Selkie Spell
by Sophie Moss
Seal Island Trilogy #1
Publication Date: November 6, 2011
Genres: Contemporary, Fantasy, Romance
Purchase from: • AmazonNook
Add to Goodreads.

Winner of the gold medal for Best Romance/Fantasy, 2013 Readers’ Favorite International Book Awards.

Synopsis

American doctor Tara Moore wants to disappear. On the run from an abusive husband, she seeks shelter on a windswept Irish island and dismisses the villagers’ speculation that she is descended from a selkie–a magical creature who is bewitching the island. But when a ghostly woman appears to her with a warning, Tara realizes it was more than chance that brought her to this island. Desperate to escape a dark and dangerous past, she struggles against a passionate attraction to handsome islander, Dominic O’Sullivan. But the enchantment of the island soon overpowers her and she falls helpless under its spell.

Caught between magic and reality, Tara must find a way to wield both when a dangerous stranger from her past arrives, threatening to destroy the lives of everyone on the island.

01_Selkie_Spell

My Review:

I read all three Seal Island Trilogy books, devouring each one. The audiobook completely lived up to the expectations. Ms. Moss chose a narrator with a soothing voice and a talent for portraying individual characters. I downloaded The Selkie Spell onto my smartphone and listened to excerpts during long walks to and from work. A two-hour walk felt like two minutes as I got caught up in the story all over again.

Whenever I recommend the Seal Island Trilogy books to readers, I always emphasize this: Sophie Moss has managed to do something that many romance writers haven’t yet figured out. She creates male protagonists who don’t push their women around or dominate them, yet the men retain all their masculinity. None of the women are “saved by a man,” but that doesn’t neutralize the potency of the male character. In fact, this is a non-issue. There are no smothering and overly feminist ideals here; it simply is what it is, portraying strong women and strong men within their own story. I wish more writers could figure this out.

Everything about this series is beautiful. From the flowing prose and engaging characters, to the vivid imagery, and even the front-to-back formatting done for Ms. Moss by Blue Harvest Creative. Both print and eBook are stunning and complement the superb writing style that Sophie continues with Wind Chime series.

 

The Seal Island Trilogy

01_Selkie_Spell-(LG-2500-x-1563) The Selkie Enchantress (Seal Island Trilogy #2) The Selkie Sorceress (Seal Island Trilogy #3)

Author: Sophie Moss

Sophie Moss (Color)

Sophie Moss is an award-winning author of four full-length romance novels. Her stories are featured consistently on Amazon Kindle Bestseller Lists. Known for her captivating Irish fantasy romances and heartwarming contemporary romances with realistic characters and unique island settings, her books have appeared twice in USA Today. As a former journalist, Sophie has been writing professionally for over ten years. She has a B.A. in English from the University of Vermont and she is a long-standing member of Romance Writers of America. Sophie currently lives in San Diego, California, where she is writing her next novel. When she’s not writing, she’s walking the beach, volunteering at the local Humane Society, or working in her garden. Visit Sophie at her website at http://www.sophiemossauthor.com.

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Turkey Legs? I Don’t Think So

marissaames:

Short, succinct, and totally awesome insight by author A.D. Trosper regarding medieval reinactments and the true food of the middle ages.

Originally posted on A.D.Trosper:

As you all know I recently attended the Great Plains Renaissance Festival. As per the usual ren fest food offerings, there were turkey legs which people carried around as they munched on them. And I wondered, why turkey legs?

medieval-feast-01

Well sure we all have the image of the pompous lord or king chowing down on a large hunk of meat while throwing bones behind him for the dogs to fight over.  And sure there is a painting of Henry VIII holding a drumstick of some sort. And of course because its a large drumstick it must be a turkey, right? It couldn’t possibly be from a larger European game bird.

Well, it wasn’t turkey and nobody in Europe was dining on turkey in medieval times. How do I know this? Because turkeys are indigenous to the Americas. The only people eating turkey during those times were the native peoples of…

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