Wednesday, April 20, 2016

(Not So) Good in a Room by Dakota Madison

Title: (Not So) Good in a Room
Author: Dakota Madison
Series: California Dreamers #1
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Release Date: April 1, 2016
Cover Design: Beetiful Book Covers
Summary:
(NOT SO) GOOD IN A ROOM, a romantic comedy novella by USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR Dakota Madison, is a modern reimagining of Cyrano de Bergerac. Awkward screenwriter Nellie Berg is great with words, as long as she can write them down. She’s written over thirty action scripts, but has been unable to sell a single one to Hollywood. Instead of working the room, every time Nellie tries to pitch her scripts to producers she becomes overcome with anxiety and completely blanks out.

When Nellie meets another aspiring screenwriter, Roscoe Rhodes, at Pitchfestapalooza they form an unlikely friendship. Roscoe is everything Nellie is not: outgoing, witty, charming…and good in a room. Roscoe suggests that Nellie hire his cousin, Chris, an unemployed actor to pitch her scripts to producers.

Things get complicated when Nellie falls for Chris and she seeks Roscoe’s help to seal the deal. Roscoe realizes he actually has feelings for Nellie. And Hollywood falls in love with the hot the new pretend screenwriter, who has never even read an entire script let alone written one.


When I finally make it out of the ballroom and into the hotel lobby I do my best to compose myself, but to no avail. I’m definitely going to throw up.


I hurry into the ladies room and just make it to the toilet before I begin to dry heave. My stomach was so twisted with nerves I couldn’t eat anything all day so there’s nothing of any significance to come up.

Tears begin to stream down my face and within moments I’m a sobbing heap of hopelessness on the bathroom floor. I allow myself to release all of the tension I’ve been holding in and wail for several minutes. When I finally feel like I’ve cried the well dry I take in what I hope will be a deep, calming breath.

Will I ever be able to pitch without experiencing complete and utter terror? How will I ever make it in the business if I can’t?

You have to pull yourself together, Nellie.

A knock on the stall I’m occupying startles me.

Then I hear a female voice say, “Is everything okay in there?”

“Fuck off.” The harsh words pop out of my mouth before I have a chance to stop them. I don’t mean to be rude, but it seems to happen a lot.

I hear the sound of footsteps as whoever I just swore at scurries out of the bathroom.

As I pull myself up from the floor I hike up the white tights that have gathered at my knees. I do my best to smooth out the wrinkles in the black and white polka dot dress I’m wearing.

I slowly step out of the stall and glance around the bathroom just to make sure it’s empty.

I would glance at myself in the mirror, but I know it would just make me feel worse than I already do. Not only would I be a failure, I’d be a hideous looking one as well. I’d like to at least be able to function under the illusion that I’m not completely repulsive looking.

Unfortunately my body isn’t quick enough for my brain. I catch a glance at my reflection in the mirror as I pass by. It’s even worse than I imagined it would be. Calling me frightening looking would be a compliment.

I give my reflection the middle finger as I walk out of the bathroom.

I must still be in a post-anxiety-attack fog because I don’t even see the young producer I attempted to pitch to until I plow right into him.

“I’m so sorry.” I’m surprised when coherent words actually come out of my mouth this time.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“No,” I sputter as I hurry away before I embarrass myself even further.

I scan the large lobby. It’s packed with lines of screenwriters waiting to pitch to producers. There’s one dark corner on the opposite side of the crowded area that looks like a safe zone where I can hide and catch my breath.

I close my eyes for a moment and rub my temples. I’m probably ten minutes away from a major headache on top of everything else.

When I open my eyes I see a very tall guy headed in my direction. Of course I’m only five feet tall, so nearly everyone on the planet over the age of ten is taller than me, but this guy is like a giant. His hair and eyes are as dark as mine, but his are on a much more attractive package.

For some reason the guy is waving a pack of gum at me.

“Want a piece?” he asks.

In a room filled with hundreds of people why on Earth has he singled me out? And why would he think I want gum?

He waits for several moments and stares at me. When I don’t reply he says, “No gum I guess.”

“Please go somewhere that isn’t here.”

He frowns. “Like you own Pitchfestapalooza.”

“Find your own corner,” I hiss.

I wait for him to leave, but he doesn’t budge. He continues to stare at me, like he’s examining a specimen.

I shoot daggers at him hoping he’ll take the hint.

“Fine, I’ll go. Sorry for invading your personal space.”

When he takes off into the sea of emerging screenwriters I breathe a small sigh of relief.

Don’t you just love that term? Emerging screenwriter. It’s a nice way to say wannabe.

That’s what we are. Wannabes. Every person here is scrounging for that one break that will finally get him or her into the business.

I can’t waste my one shot at finally making my dream come true.

I remove my one-sheet from my handbag and stare at it. I’ve gone over my logline and story synopsis thousands of times. I’ve got every word on the page memorized. I have no idea why I can’t just say the words when I actually sit down to pitch.

I have to do this. I have to at least try again. I’d never be able to live with myself if I gave up so easily.

I shove my one-sheet back into my handbag as I make my way over to one of the lines of writers waiting for the opportunity to meet with an action film producer.

Pitchfestapalooza is run like a well-oiled machine. I have to give credit where credit is due. Screenwriters line up to meet with producers by genre and lines keep moving at a fairly brisk pace. It’s set up a little like speed dating, but we’re pitching producers for deals, not trying to score with the opposite sex.

Luckily the line I’ve selected isn’t that long. It’s about half as long as the lines for the screenwriters pitching horror scripts or comedy projects. I’m not surprised that I’m the only female in line. It’s pretty well known that there’s sexism in the film industry, but it seems to be even worse when it comes to action movies.

But I love the genre, and even though I have a vagina, I can’t see myself writing anything else. 
I don’t realize until he turns around that I’m standing right behind the tall guy who offered me the gum.

He flashes me a charismatic smile. The type of grin you might see on a used car salesman or politician.

Why do I get the feeling this guy could sell dirt to a farmer?

“So what do you have against gum?” he asks.

“Nothing.”

“Then it’s me you don’t like.”

“I don’t even know you.”

“Then let’s remedy that situation right now.” He extends a hand for me to shake. “I’m Roscoe Rhodes.”

I’m sure he’s wondering why I’m not returning the gesture. I don’t like touching people I don’t know. It’s one of my numerous obsessions.

He waits for a long moment. When it’s obvious I’m not going to shake his hand he says, “You know, Dorothy, you’re not in Kansas anymore.”

“My name’s not Dorothy.”

“At least I got you to say something.”

“Nellie Berg,” I tell him. “And how did you know I’m from Kansas?”

“I didn’t. You’re dressed like Dorothy Gale. What’s up with that outfit?”

I look down at my black patent leather shoes, white tights, black and white polka dot skirt. Then I glance around me. Everyone else is wearing dress jeans and button-down shirts with their sleeves rolled up to their elbows. Somehow I must have missed the screenwriters’ attire memo.
So in addition to being a bundle of nerves I look completely and totally out of place. Isn’t that just great for my self-esteem?

“You know this producer only makes action films,” Roscoe says.

I don’t even try to hide my scowl. “I know that.”

He points to another line directly across the lobby from us. “The line for romantic comedy is over there.”

“So?” I glare at him.

“Wouldn’t you feel more comfortable over there?”

“You mean somewhere where there isn’t a misogynistic jerk standing in front of me?”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “You’ve written a script for an action movie?”

As I shake my head defiantly I wonder why I’m even talking to this asshole.

“Then what are you doing in this line?” His condescending tone is really starting to piss me off.

“I’ve written scripts for thirty action movies.” Choke on that you prick.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“You don’t strike me as the type who would be interested in writing action scripts.”

“And why is that? Because I’m female? Have you bought into the sexist notion that women can’t write action scripts?”

I cross my arms over my chest and stare at him. As much as I’d like him to crawl into a hole somewhere he stares right back at me.

“Maybe it’s the pink polka dot purse you’re holding. That just screams action film. Or the outfit you’re wearing. If Shirley Temple and Dorothy Gale had a love child she would dress like you. Except you look more like a Munchkin with your little round face and tiny body.”

I can feel my face heat with embarrassment. This guy just says whatever he thinks, doesn’t he. “You know that’s really insulting.”

“Munchkin,” he repeats.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Whatever you say, Munch. You look like one of the dolls from the cabbage patch. I just want to put you on a shelf.”

“I consider that a micro-aggression.”

“Boo-hoo. What are you going to do? Call the PC police because I hurt your feelings?”

“You’re kind of a jerk.”

“Everyone says I’m charming.”

This guy is definitely no prince. “I guess everyone is wrong.”



Author Bio:
USA TODAY Bestselling author Dakota Madison is known for writing romance with a little spice and lots of heart. She likes to explore current social issues in her work. Dakota is a winner of the prestigious RONE Award for Excellence in the Indie and Small Publishing Industry. When she's not at her computer creating spicy stories Dakota likes to spend time with her husband and their bloodhounds at their home outside Phoenix, Arizona. Dakota also writes under the pen names SAVANNAH YOUNG, SIERRA AVALON and REN MONTERREY.

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Clash by CA Harms

Title: Clash
Author: C.A. Harms
Genre: Contemporary New Adult Romance
Release Date: April 12, 2016
Summary:
It was time to fight back.

Time to live.

Too much of my life had already been taken from me by a man that should have protected me. At the hands of pure evil I have lived in fear. When most young women were learning to love, I was fighting to live.

I had broken free of the hate.

Finally getting the chance to feel what real love was, but with all good things, bad times seem to follow. At least for me it does. My name is Payton Walters and I refused to allow them anymore of my freedom.

I will not fall…

Not this time.

Prologue
Payton
I was eleven years old when Maggie, my mother, left. Just packed her bags and walked away. She just couldn't deal with it anymore; the hate and anger was all too much. But there was something I would never understand. Why did she choose to leave me behind? It was something I often wondered.

That was seven years ago.

Seven long years of dealing with the backlash of her absence. My father had always been a broody, irritable man—extremely unapproachable. I guess that was one of the reasons my mother chose to leave. That, and the fact he was a heavy drinker. Alcohol, to him, was like breathing; it was something his body had to have to survive. His perpetual intoxication almost always led to a fight between them—a physical fight full of anger. For days I would see the marks of those disagreements gracing my mother’s beautiful face. He tore her down whenever and however he could. I remember lying in bed at night wishing I could stop him, hoping for someone, anyone, to take my mother and me away to safety.

At all costs I found myself doing whatever I could to avoid him. Though he never lay a hand on me before Maggie left, things changed afterward. He became even angrier and more violent; I never even thought that was possible. Those nights of terror I used to listen to my mother live through now became my own.

It didn’t matter what I did or how much I abandoned, in his eyes I still screwed everything up. He blamed me for all that was wrong in his life; it all fell at my feet.

Soon it would all be over; I had plans. All I had to do was finish these last few months of school and I could escape forever. No matter what it took, or how many jobs I had to work, I would be rid of John Walters.


Author Bio:
C.A. Harms is like any other addicted reader. She enjoys happy endings and HEA love stories. She hasn't always been a lover of Romance and had once been addicted to a good Mystery. Just recently she has taken on a new liking and now is a full blown Romance novel addict.

She lives in Illinois and enjoys spending time with her husband and two children. You will always find her with her kindle or paperback in hand as it is her favorite pass time.


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Pre-Order Blitz: Rise of Alpha: The Prodian Journey by Lorenz Font

Title: Rise of Alpha
Author: Lorenz Font
Genre: Young Adult, Urban Fantasy, Coming of Age
Expected Release Date: May 3, 2016

Summary:
All Brian Morrison wants is to be an ordinary teenager with normal teenage problems, but his uncontrollable twitching and phonic tics make that impossible. The butt of jokes in school, he is nothing but a laughing-stock until a visit to a local tarot shop turns his life upside-down.

The psychic’s strange prediction thrusts him into a mysterious world of ghastly creatures and bizarre events, and he must come to terms with the abrupt changes if he is going to survive. One mother’s plea for help presents him with an impossible challenge, but it also brings him closer to the most popular girl in school. Brian must overcome threats from all sides to honor his promise, and he is determined to succeed. His heart won’t let him turn his back on someone in need, especially when he’s fallen in love with her.

Protecting Shannon McKesson soon becomes the greatest purpose of his life. Brian discovers many things on this new journey, but the biggest one might be the truth about who he is. If only he and Shannon can stay alive long enough to unlock the mystery.


VOYANT’s purple neon sign welcomed us when we walked into the dark, rather dingy room. The scent of burning incense was heavy, and I faltered, not digging the eerie atmosphere. The black walls were lined with wall hangings of different tarot card characters, which seemed to be smirking at anyone dumb enough to buy their bogus predictions. Mark glanced over his shoulder at me with an unspoken challenge, leaving me no choice but to follow him to the counter.

The girl behind the counter looked up, her expression one of boredom. I recognized her immediately and stopped in my tracks, my mouth gaping open.

Shannon McKesson?

Whoa! Shannon was the epitome of popularity. She was pretty in that girl-next-door type of way. Her blond hair bounced on her shoulders like girls’ did in television commercials. Her eyes were bluer than my mother’s, and she had that mature persona most teenagers would die for. I had been watching her all these years, unable to take my eyes off her whenever she drove her yellow Beetle into the school parking lot or walked through the campus with the sure kind of grace only confident people possessed.

Darryl shifted next to me and pushed my chin up, closing my mouth. I coughed, realizing I’d already made my first blunder of the night. And it didn’t even have anything to do with my tics.

“Hi, Shannon. We’re here for a tarot reading. I called earlier to make an appointment,” Mark said, sounding like a real tarot junkie.

“Oh, yeah. Larry, Curly, and Moe.” She hopped off the barstool and checked off our names in the appointment book.

Mark and Darryl quickly pointed at me. “He’s Curly!”

Of all the things these bastards could do, they had to put me in the spotlight. They knew I hated the attention. I felt my face burning from embarrassment but decided to play along, shuffling my feet for maximum effect. What came next was a reward for my efforts. Shannon laughed, the sound a sweet mix of tolling bells.

Author Bio:
A professional daydreamer, Lorenz Font discovered her love of writing after reading a celebrated novel that inspired one idea after another. Since being published in 2013, she has been conspiring, butting heads, and enjoying her spare time with vampires, angels, samurais, and other creatures she has created in her head.

Her perfect day consists of writing and lounging on her garage couch (a.k.a. the office) with a glass of her favorite cabernet while listening to her ever-growing music collection. She finds writing urban fantasy exhilarating and places an intense focus on angst and the redemption of flawed characters. Her fascination with romantic twists is a mainstay in all her stories.

Lorenz lives in Southern California with her supportive family and three demanding dogs.


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