Release: Song Magick by Elisabeth Hamill

Song Magick Release and Giveaway

$5 Amazon Gift Card and ebook copy.

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/01288e11/

 

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Title: Song Magick
Author: Elisabeth Hamill
Publisher: Fire and Ice, an imprint of Mélange – http://www.fireandiceya.com/
Cover Artist: Caroline Andrus

In a realm where magic was thought to be lostyoung bard Telyn Songmaker is able to cast powerful spells with her music. Exiled from home in the violent aftermath of her song magic gone awry, Telyn endures a solitary freedom…unaware of the price on her head.  Bound to the Wood by blood and by oath, Mithrais is dispatched to protect her by the dying sylvan gods he serves. Only Telyn can perform the dangerous counterspell that may save them. But love may be the most unpredictable magic of all…

 

Buy Links:

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00JW4OSA8

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/431772

http://www.fireandiceya.com/authors/elisabethhamill/songmagick.html

http://www.lulu.com/shop/view-cart.ep;jsessionid=1ADB5FA58A798638043F5907AA758B8F

 

Excerpt:

“Is it true that there was a murder in the Sildan court last year?” a calm, male voice called from the end of the room furthest from the dais. Telyn felt herself grow cold, her fingers stilling on the harp strings, and forced her voice to remain neutral.

“There was an unfortunate incident involving the son of Vuldur, Lord of the East. He was killed, but it was not murder. Lord Vuldur seems to have gone mad with grief and views it as such.”

“That is understandable,” the voice continued mildly. “After all, it was his only son. Isn’t that right?”

Telyn could not see who was asking the questions, and indeed, the voice now seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. She took a deep breath and answered, “Yes, it was his only son.”

Mercifully, the voice did not come again, and Telyn let her fingers move on the strings of her harp in the beginnings of the interrupted song, forcing herself to calm and concentrate on her music. Her heart was racing. It was entirely possible that the question was an innocent product of rumors filtering west of the Sildan capital, but even Riordan hadn’t heard anything about the incident until this afternoon. She played the song with single-minded focus, rigidly employing her disciplines until her breathing was normal and her heart slowed. It seemed that none of the guests had noticed her discomfiture and were smiling with pleasure at the music. It was just a rumor repeated, she told herself. It had to be that.

“I promised Lord Riordan a love song for his lady,” Telyn said, disciplining her voice to carry nothing but cheer. She glanced at the head table. Riordan smiled at her encouragingly with a reassuring nod, and Lady Ciara beamed at her. Mithrais, although he appeared relaxed, looked ready to fly to her side at an instant’s notice.

She closed her eyes and began to play one of the oldest Sildan love songs she knew, letting the haunting and beautiful music carry her song magic to the audience, enhancing an atmosphere of romantic anticipation. She had just taken a breath in preparation to sing the first verse when the sting of pain, a jangling discord of strings and the crunch of wood startled her eyes open.

Telyn looked down and saw the feathered end of a small crossbow bolt. The point was buried in the shattered soundboard of her harp, directly over her heart. A warm trickle of blood welled from a shallow cut on the back of her hand where the bolt had grazed.

Several women screamed; in the sudden confusion, Telyn sat frozen with the harp in her lap. Mithrais was suddenly there, appearing out of thin air to pull her to the floor and shield her with his own body, while Riordan protected Ciara, bellowing orders to his guards to find the person who had fired the bolt.

Ciara was pointing toward the rafters. Telyn clawed her mask off and tried to look up, but between Mithrais crouching over her and the guests running to and fro she could see only the floor, Mithrais’ discarded mask, and the shattered remains of her harp on the stones beside her. The dark iron crossbow bolt stood out in stark relief against the pale wood.

“This way!” Riordan beckoned Mithrais, who lifted Telyn up to her feet, still shielding her from the unseen marksman, and hurried to where Riordan was pointing. Behind the tapestry on the dais was a hidden hallway, and Riordan and Ciara followed them in. “It leads to my library. Go!”

 

 

About the Author

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Elisabeth Hamill is a nurse by day, fantasy novelist by night. In seventh grade, she had “Famous Author” inscribed under her name on her yearbook cover – an aspiration that, while delayed, was never forgotten! Her first published work, SONG MAGICK, saw its first draft finished during recuperation from cancer treatment and surgery, and is the fulfillment of that lifelong dream of being an author. She lives in eastern Kansas with her family, where they fend off flying monkey attacks and prep for the zombie apocalypse.

Keep in Touch with Elisabeth:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ElisabethHamillWrites
Twitter: https://twitter.com/songmagick
Blog: http://elisabethhamill.blogspot.com
Website: www.elisabethhamill.com
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/risu21/song-magick-by-elisabeth-hamill/
Manic Readers: http://www.manicreaders.com/ElisabethHamill/
 

Blogging from A to Z Challenge: Q is for Quotes on Creativity

These are some of the best quotes I have read in a long time. I thank Linda Covella for posting them and having the stamina for the A-Z blogging challenge.

Spotlight: Amy Peterson's Something Furry Underfoot

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“Want to know what it’s like living with a houseful of pets while still holding onto your sanity? You’ve got to read Amy Peterson’s warm and funny book about her experiences coping with all manner of animals.  Not only will you get a lot of laughs but you’ll also pick up some valuable tips about co-existing with your own critters!” – Bob Tarte, author of Enslaved by Ducks, Kitty Cornered and Fowl Weather.

 

This excerpt is from Chapter 7, Bumpkin, of Something Furry Underfoot. Nicole is a student co-worker, Mark is the author’s husband. Preceding this is Tip #37: A domestic duck can have as much personality as a dog.

On April 17, 2007, at around 3:00 p.m., Nicole approached me at work with a large shoebox, the contents of which was peeping. Word had gotten out that I was taking possession of a duckling, so with my new charge in hand and a half dozen co-workers gathered `round, I lifted one corner of the lid. Before I could see inside, the creature pushed upward on the lid of the box, and within seconds, we were face to face with a bright yellow duckling with orange feet and an orange bill. I heard several people say, “Oh, how cute.” One person asked, “What are you going to do with it?” but all I could do is wonder, “What kind of duck is this?” My next thought was that the little duckling would jump out of the box, so I had no choice but to replace the lid and carry my peeping charge out of the building and to my car.

Because the height of the box was only half the height of the duckling, I couldn’t bear to keep the duckling inside the box if I didn’t have to. Once I was seated inside my car and the door closed, I lifted the lid, took the duckling in my left hand and held it against my chest. It blinked, looked around, but made no attempt to wiggle or get away. So, using one hand to hold my duckling and the other to drive, we made our way the 10 miles home. The duckling never did wiggle; it was as if sitting on my chest was his or her preferred method of travel.

As we drove through the streets of Lansing, East Lansing and into Haslett, I was amazed by the heat coming off its little feet. Duck feet look rubbery, so I wasn’t expecting them to warm my chest. And when we took the turn into my neighborhood and I held the duckling close to my face, I wasn’t expecting its beak to be warm, too.

Once safely home, I carried the duckling inside where we were greeted by two curious dogs and one meowing kitten. The duckling blinked and peeped once in response. I told the three curious fuzzies that this was our new pal, and they would have to get used to it being around.

I carried the duckling down to the bathroom and placed her in a cardboard box I had retrieved from the local grocery store the day before. The box was lined with newspapers and soft towels, the former to throw out each day, the latter because a nest would likely have been soft and fuzzy, or at least not hard, I was thinking, and, well, okay, it was totally irrational to put towels in there, but I did anyway.

Above the box was a trouble light, which provided the primary source of warmth for the little duckling. The proper height of the light was very important—if it was too close to the bottom of the box, the duckling would bake; too far away and it wouldn’t be able to stay warm enough. What constituted too far and too close was completely beyond me and I had to trust that Mark would adjust it based on the fact that he had not baked any of his baby turkeys.

Everything looked to be in order, less the matter of food, and I was contemplating my next move when Mark appeared. Looking at the duckling he remarked, “Oh my, what a cutie. Do you know what kind?”

“I haven’t a clue.”

We stood there and stared at the duckling, who stared back at us, blinking every now and again. Finally, it peeped. Mark began talking to it, introducing himself and telling the duckling it had fallen into good hands. He picked it up and the duckling stopped peeping. As he was babbling on to the happy little duckling I asked, “So, uh, what do baby ducks eat?”

“Duck starter,” he said, and he turned as if snapping out a trance. “They’ll have it at Soldan’s.”

Since Mark had immediately assumed the role of the alpha male duck, I assumed the role of the alpha female duck, meaning, while he took up vigilance of the duckling, I found myself driving the fifteen minutes or so to a pet store in search of something I didn’t know existed. As I drove, I had plenty of time to ponder why anyone had named the substance I was looking for “duck starter.” The word “food” worked for just about every other species of animal, and the duckling I was going to feed had already started out in life without the substance I was looking for, so what I really needed was “duck keep growing.” On the other hand, I pondered, why isn’t human baby food called “kid starter”?

After wondering if anyone else has these types of issues, I asked the Soldan’s staff if they had duck starter. I was directed to the back corner of the store where, sure enough, there were five and ten pound bags of this pulverized pale tan-looking stuff labeled so that even I could determine what it was. The store also had turkey starter, which is probably how Mark’s turkeys had started out and why Mark knew duck starter existed.

After I found the duck starter, I wondered what other things I might find in the store for ducks, so I wandered up and down the aisles looking for duck grower, duck finisher, duck preening supplies, duck bathing gels, something else for ducks. I found row after row of stuffed toys and bones and food and kitty litter and even horse supplies, but nothing for ducks. To be sure I hadn’t missed something, I asked the clerk at the desk. She was a long-haired brunette with a narrow, horse-like face, a neck like a Rottweiler and a rear end like a hippo.

“Do we have what?”

“Anything for ducks besides duck starter?”

“Like—?” she asked, turning her mane sideways and snorting like a piglet.

“Like, you have all these squeaky toys and beds and bones and everything for dogs, so, what do you have for ducks?”

“Ducks only need food and water and to be kept safe and warm,” she said, waving a fat panda-like claw.

“And ducks are different than dogs, then, in what way?”

“Dogs are fuzzy and loyal; ducks are feathery and messy?” she asked, her face wrinkled like a perplexed monkey.

“And that explains why you don’t have anything else for them besides duck starter?”

“I guess.”

As I drove home with my little bag of food, I couldn’t help but count the number of stuffed toys we’d given to my childhood dogs, Candy and Ashley—God rest their souls—the plush beds they didn’t use because they’d slept with me, and the rawhide bones that once littered our house. How ridiculously spoiled our beagle and cocker spaniel had been, since all they needed was food and water, safety and warmth. And of course, we’d taken spoiling to a new level with Dusty and Little Dipper.

But rather than pondering the hundreds of dollars wasted on dogs, as I pulled into the driveway with my first of what would be many bags of duck starter, I came to appreciate ducks for their simple needs.

“Have any problems?” Mark asked. He was sitting on the bathroom floor while the duckling was running about, pecking at the newspaper.

“Walked right to it,” I smiled.

After tucking the duckling in the box, Mark took the bag and sprinkled some of the powdery stuff on top of the water bowl. This created a circular pattern of spinning tan speckles.

“That’s fascinating,” I said. I turned my attention to the duckling, who was also watching the water spin around.

“See, ducks are attracted to things that move,” Mark explained. “In the real world, it’s stuff like bugs and worms. But here, when powdery food is placed on water, it creates movement. The duckling will peck at it, realize its edible, and in no time, start eating the Purina duck starter.”

I raised a skeptical eyebrow and waited for Mark to stop adding duck starter to the water, for the water to almost stop moving. I was about to sneer when the duckling stepped up to the bowl, dipped his head in the bowl, mucked up his beak and began to eat. And while it ate, it peeped. It was the cutest thing to hear a duck happily peeping away while eating. At times, it peeped with its head in the food-water mixture and made bubbles.

Convinced that the little duckling would survive we named her Bumpkin.

Tip #38: Dogs and cats can be trained not to eat baby ducks.

 

Review for Something Furry Underfoot:

Story Circle Book Reviews by Laura Strathman Hulka:

The book is presented to the reader with magic (the name of one of their bunnies) and great appeal. Whether you have pets of your own, had them in your childhood, or never understood the pull of being owned by a remarkable pet, this book will make you smile, laugh out loud and grimace in sadness. You will close the book with regret that it is over—and, yes, feel the urge to run to the animal shelter to see what enchantment you can find for yourself and your family. “See, every fuzzy and feathery that enters our lives has a story. And I believe it is our job as humans to make their stories as good as possible.”

 

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When Amy married Mark in 1994, she became a stepmother to four children ages three, five, 13 and 15.  Unable to find uplifting self-help books about step-parenting, Amy documented her own humorous, stressful experienced in From Zero to Four Kids in Thirty Seconds.  This helpful, how-to book includes over 50 tips for step moms and is a fun, entertaining read.

At the same time Amy was thrown head-first into the world of step motherhood, she was also unwittingly plunged into the world of pet ownership, thanks also to Mark. Something Furry Underfoot documents Amy’s adventures in learning how to care for and spoil a variety of pets and how she ultimately fell for each one.  In Something Furry Underfoot readers will meet a male hedgehog that escaped several times for encounters with a female hedgehog and fathered several unplanned litters of baby hedgehogs; a domestic duckling that out-pecked two dogs and a formerly stray cat; and a ferret that cost $1,200 in vet bills.  Readers will also learn how it’s possible to get nine hamsters for the price of one (and why Mark wanted to keep all 8 babies), and why Amy’s second mynah bird is named BOGO.  A portion of the proceeds from Amy’s book will benefit animal rescue organizations.

Amy works for the state of Michigan and lives with Mark and numerous critters.  When not working or caring for animals, she tends to get into trouble while traveling and while trying to catch fish that are inevitably larger than Mark’s.

 Contact links:

www.amylpeterson.com is where Amy blogs about nature, pets and life

amylpeterson@aol.com

@amylpetersonblg

http://www.pinterest.com/amylpeterson/

 

Other books by Amy Peterson:

 

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Authors In Bloom Blog Hop: A Spring Celebration

Authors in Bloom Blog Hop

April 7th – April 16th 2014

10 Days of Giveaways-Gardening Tips-Recipes-and more!

Plus a GRAND PRIZE you’ll be digging to win!

Sponsored by diannevenetta.com and acozyreaderscorner.com

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You will have 10 days to enter each individual author contest and then submit your entry for the grand prize!! To win the grand prize, you must visit each and every author on the hop. It’s a spring celebration designed to introduce you to authors and give you a chance to win prizes: from books to swag, promotional products and more. Each author will be posting a giveaway, gardening tip, recipe or both!

The grand prize: Kindle or Nook (a $200 value)

Two $25 gift card worth of ebooks!!!

 

Circus Peanut Jello Salad

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This has been one of my favorites since I was a kid. It disappeared first at our barbecues and the adults loved it just as much as the kids. These days, though, it’s hard to find the orange circus peanuts. I still find them at our local Farm and Fleet.

Ingredients
44 circus peanut candies, divided
1 cup boiling water, divided
2 packages (3 ounces each) orange gelatin
2 cans (8 ounces each) crushed pineapple, undrained
1 carton (8 ounces) frozen whipped topping, thawed
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Nutritional Facts
1 serving (1 piece) equals 189 calories, 3 g fat (3 g saturated fat), 0 cholesterol, 16 mg sodium, 38 g carbohydrate, trace fiber, 1 g protein.

Directions
Cut 32 candies into small pieces; place in a microwave-safe bowl. Add 1/4 cup of boiling water. Cover and microwave on high for 45 seconds; stir. Microwave 45 seconds longer. Stir until smooth. In a large bowl, dissolve gelatin in remaining boiling water. Stir in candy mixture and pineapple. Refrigerate until partially set.
Fold in whipped topping. Pour into a 13-in. x 9-in. dish coated with cooking spray. Refrigerate until firm. Cut into squares; top each square with a circus peanut. Yield: 12 servings.
Editor’s Note: This recipe was tested in a 1,100-watt microwave.

This was taken from Taste of Home. You may visit their website at http://www.tasteofhome.com/recipes/circus-peanut-gelatin

Enter the rafflecopter below for the a chance to win an ebook or $5.00 Amazon gift card.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Merry Christmas, Henry

By Aubrey Wynne

Henry, a shy and talented artist, moonlights as a security guard at a museum and loses his heart to a beautiful, melancholy woman in a painting. As his obsession grows, he finds a kindred soul who helps him in his search for happiness. On Christmas Eve, Henry dares to take a chance on love and fulfill his dream. Published by Melange Books, LLC

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Pete’s Mighty Purty Privies

By Aubrey Wynne

Pete McNutt needs customers for his new business. Spring has arrived and it’s prime time Privy Season. After much consideration, he refines his sales pitch and heads to the monthly meeting of the Women’s Library Association. Published by AlfieDogFiction.com

By April 19th we will post the grand prize winner(s) on the main page. Individual authors will contact the winners of their author-specific giveaways. You will be required to claim your prize according to each giveaway’s terms and conditions.

Click the image below for the linky list of authors.

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Giveaway ends April 16th at 11:59 PM EST. Open to Legal Residents (18 years of age or older) of the US only. Prizes cannot be shipped to PO Boxes. Winner will be selected by Rafflecotper.com and be notified by email. Winner will have 48 hours to respond before a new winner is selected. Please note that Dianne Venetta, host of the Authors in Bloom Blog Hop, is not responsible for sponsors that do not fulfill their prizes. I have represented each sponsor with the expectation they will fulfill their prize and in a timely manner. I will contact the sponsor regarding your prize(s). The sponsors, in most cases, are shipping their items to you directly. I will make every effort to assist you in obtaining your prize. If there is an issue with a sponsor, please notify the blog you won a prize from within 30 days for assistance, after that we may be unable to assist you. The product provided for the review was free of charge from the company. The product offered for the giveaway is free of charge, no purchase necessary. My opinions are my own and were not influenced by any form of compensation. Facebook, Twitter and Google+ are in no way associated with this giveaway. By providing your information in this form, you are providing your information to me and me alone. I do not share or sell information and will use any information only for the purpose of contacting the winner.” VOID where prohibited by law.

 

Celebrate Romance Spring Blog Hop

 

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Welcome to the Celebrate Romance Giveaway Blog Hop!

Sponsored by Fanged Fantasy

Mother Nature washes away the remnants of winter and brings us new beginnings. Buds open to reveal their beauty and romance blooms. Join us in celebrating April and her romance.

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 Movies:     My Favorite Romantic Scenes

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The King And I

Yul Brenner and Debra Kerr

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QgVPnWmUqd4

I love the hot and sexy Yul Brenner in this movie. But my favorite scene is when Debra Kerr sings about the thrill of dancing. The song itself, Shall We Dance, is lovely. Yul Brenner is intrigued with her description of dancing with a partner (unique to his culture) and demands she teaches him the steps. There is a part halfway through the scene when Yul realizes something is not right. They are not close enough. The excitement and tension as he eases his hand around her waist and demands to hold her other as he pulls her close… Her chest is heaving in anticipation of the touch and my heart pounds every time I watch it.

 

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Affair To Remember

Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NN3EIbIYB5M

Deborah Kerr had the best leading men. Cary Grant is the quintessential playboy and an artist. But Deborah makes him work for her love when they meet on a cruise to America. When she meets his grandmother on an shore excursion, she gives in to her heart. He wants to marry her and she doesn’t trust he’s given up his irresponsible ways. So she strikes a deal. In one year, if he still loves her they will meet at the top of the Empire State Building.

SPOILER: Well, of course they are still in love. But on her way to meet him, with the rendezvous in sight, she is hit by a car and paralyzed from the waste down. Heartbroken, Cary continues to paint. One day, someone buys the portrait he did of Deborah. The gallery owner said a woman in wheelchair bought it. When he runs into her at the theater (she is sitting down with a male friend who is about to retrieve her wheelchair. ) She is aloof and he walks away thinking she loves another man. He looks her up to give her his grandmother’s shawl after her death. Granny saw they were a match and willed it to her. He realizes (when she doesn’t get up from the couch) something is amiss. He strolls into her bedroom and finds the painting. The expression on his face when he realizes why she did not meet him is heart-wrenching. The following scene when they are reunited makes me cry happy tears every time I watch it.

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The Lake House

Sandra Bullock  and  Keanu Reeves

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8dAdUO8m4zo

Spoiler: Can I just say that Keanu Reeves gets sexier as he ages? This movie involved an odd type of time travel. Keanu designed a lake house and two years later Sandra rents it. The mailbox has magical powers allows them to exchange letters. They find a way to meet but Sandra finds out that he is hit by a car (yes, again) and dies crossing the street to meet her. She sends an urgent letter canceling the meeting and asking him to wait another two years. They will meet at the lake house. The final scene, when they meet, is delicious. They walk towards each other slowly, looking one another over. She says, “You waited for me.” And all patience flies out the window. He grabs her and kisses her like a starving man. I have the last ten minutes of this DVR’d and watch it every so often to remind myself why I write romance.

Giveaways

midnight Midnight Surrender by Valerie Twombly

He makes her body sing, but Angelina wants more than just sex from her dark and delicious vampire. She wants love.

Dmitri has spent the last year strumming the beautiful Angelina’s body into submission. One night she gives him an ultimatum, love or she walks. What will he choose?

Henry small cover

Merry Christmas, Henry by Aubrey Wynne

Henry, a shy and talented artist, moonlights as a security guard at a museum and loses his heart to a beautiful, melancholy woman in a painting. As his obsession grows, he finds a kindred soul who helps him in his search for happiness. On Christmas Eve, Henry dares to take a chance on love and fulfill his dream.

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I will be giving away an ebook copy of Midnight Surrender by Valerie Twombly, my short romance Merry Christmas, Henry  and a $5 Amazon gift card. Please click the link of Cary and Deborah below to go to the rafflecopter. 

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Please click on the button below to follow more authors and win more great prizes. 

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