#Excerpt on tour THE PEABRAIN'S IDEA by @MarthaRCarr w/ @RockstarBkTours #Giveaway



I am happy to be hosting a stop on the blog tour for THE PEABRAIN'S IDEA by Martha Carr ! I have an excerpt to share with you today check it out and enter to win the giveaway below!


About The Book:




Title: THE PEABRAIN'S IDEA (The Peabrain Adventures Book 1)
Author: Martha Carr
Pub. Date: April 11, 2019
Publisher: Martha Carr
Formats: Paperback, eBook
Pages: 244
Find it: GoodreadsAmazon

READ FOR FREE ON KU!

Find the compass, save the world or save herself? 

For Austin robbery detective Maggie Parker, dating is harder than running down a felon, even if the guy is worth it just ask Jake. Now add in magic.

When she finds someone breaking into her garage, stealing a favorite wooden puzzle box everything changes. Did she just see a compass fly?

Can she learn how to use the magic of bubbles to chart a new course in time? The mechanics may hold the answer. 

Her new quest: Rescue the passengers on an ancient ship a big blue marble called Earth and save herself.

Recover the compass, find the other Elementals and help decide Earth’s fate. 


Simple? It’s a lot harder than it sounds. And there’s that fourth date 




Now on to the excerpt!


1
There was a flash of sparkling gold light just outside the window, followed immediately by a loud crack of wood splintering and the sound of chickens squawking in the backyard.
“What the hell?” Maggie Parker stood suddenly upright, holding very still to try and catch any more sounds. Her knee banged against the tall, wooden dresser and she let out a short breath of air, choking back a grunt of pain. Nothing.
No, wait, there’s one. A loud clang, like something was knocked to the cement floor of the garage out back.
She looked out the window, down in the direction of the small garage at the back of her yard. Someone darted past the window, followed by another streak of gold light. “Oh, come on She let the words out slowly, sucking in her bottom lip even as her reflexes took over. Four solid years as a robbery detective will do that to a body.
Maggie easily dove across her bed and landed on her feet, sliding open the drawer in the nightstand. She scooped up her nine-millimeter service weapon and ran for the stairs in one fluid motion. The toe of her running shoe caught on the cracked wooden tread, third from the bottom but she caught herself and leapt down the last few, already building up speed. “Really have to fix that someday,” she mumbled as her hand took the corner, moving faster.
Out the back door she went, across the small patch of grass, turned yellow in what passed for winter in Austin, Texas, cold air filling her lungs. She jogged past the chicken coop, only the two white feathery Brahma raised their heads to look at her, squawking before going back to pecking at the ground. The eight other chickens were warmly nesting in the coop.
In a matter of moments, she was in the side door of the garage, quickly taking note of the jimmied lock. Her trained eye told her it was done by someone with some skill.
She raised her gun, placing herself by the door in the confined quarters. “Whoever you are, you’re not going anywhere. Picked the wrong house, dude.” The metal shelves jostled as a rubber mallet and pliers slid off and hit the hard concrete. She raised her gun, keeping her breathing even. “Let’s not make this any more complicated. Do the right thing and come up with your hands raised over your head, fingers spread.”
“Son of a centaur.” It was a deep, rumbling voice, clearly frustrated. Sounded like he smoked way too many cigarettes. He was muttering something else, but Maggie couldn’t make out the words.
A strong odor of damp earth hit her in the face as the man came into the center of the room, his arms by his side. He was no more than five feet tall with only a rim of grey hair on his shiny bald head, and baggy blue pants covered in dirt, held up by striped suspenders over a green wool sweater. Maggie relaxed, just a little.
She arched an eyebrow, even as she looked to make sure he didn’t have an accomplice. “Were you looking for a warm place to hang out? This isn’t a shelter, but I can help you find a place.”
The slight old man huffed in anger and balled his hands into fists. “That again! These are decent enough clothes.” His words came out in a whistle through his jutting front teeth. He patted the pockets of his pants, releasing another wave of the mossy smell. “I’m not homeless, Peabrain.”
Maggie cocked her head to the side, still holding up her gun. “Okay, name calling, very nice. Well, which one of us is about to get arrested, asshole?”
“Asshole is just a nickname. My friends call me Bernie.” He spat the words out, his face flushed. “Youcan keep calling me asshole.”
“Bernie, you’re an odd combo for a criminal. You broke in here like you’ve done this before, but you’ve been banging around like you left your glasses somewhere.”
He cut her off, waving his arms. “I have never needed glasses! Slipped on that grease stain.” He looked back over his shoulder and back at her. “Place needs a good straightening up, if you ask me.”
“No one is asking and from the looks of things, you caused most of the mess.” Maggie lowered her gun, letting out a deep breath. “Look, Bernie, I’m gonna need an explanation.” She waved her hand at the mess in the garage.
“Your training, I suppose,” he muttered, taking a small step to his right.
Maggie furrowed her brow, tucking a long strand of brown hair behind an ear. “Do we know each other?” Her shoulders dropped down a little. “Oh geez, are you one of my mother’s friends? Was she doing another white lady sweat lodge? Are you high on something?” She shook her head. “That collection of people she has in her house, no offense.”
“None taken, I’m not one of them,” he grumbled. He took another small step to the right, sliding an old green metal tool box with his foot. Half of the tools were already spilled out onto the floor.
Maggie looked at the toolbox and up at Bernie. That was the clang she had heard earlier.
“What the hell are you doing with Poppy’s toolbox? You break in here to steal some old tools?” An ache centered in her chest. The tools were the only thing her grandfather had left her in his will last year. She had put the box on a shelf and left them there. It was still too painful to look through them. But it didn’t mean someone could take them. “Answer the question. What do you want with the tools?”
Maggie lifted her gun back up, the hair on her arms starting to stand up and a familiar tingle spreading along the back of her neck. She got it every time something was about to go down. The muscles across her back tensed.
Bernie peered at her, squinting his eyes like he was sizing her up. He shrugged and turned, picking the metal box up and dumping out the contents.
“Hey! That’s all I have left from my grandfather.” Maggie felt a flush of anger and ran across the room, dropping to one knee. She was still holding up her gun even as she pushed the tools out of the small man’s reach. But he was already ignoring everything except the small wooden puzzle box that was resting lightly in the palm of his hand. A satisfied grin broke out across his face.
“Not a chance!” Maggie shouted.
He had picked Maggie’s favorite from the tool box. A useless wooden box her grandfather let her play with as a child but was never able to open. It was decorated on every side with a different element of wind, fire, water or earth. On the top was an engraving of a compass rose. Bernie looked all around and waved his arm as he made an attempt at an end run around the detective, barreling at her. She put out her foot to trip him up, combining it with an elbow to his midsection.
“Oof!” He blew out sharply, losing his grip on the box as it dropped toward the floor. “No, not this time!” he called out.
They both reached up for the box at the same time, fumbling it through their fingers as it continued to tumble off course, headed for a puddle of water where rainwater had seeped inside the garage. The box landed on its side, making a small splash as Bernie gasped, his eyes growing wider. His voice came out in a whisper. “Peabrain, what have you done?”
“What?” Maggie looked back and forth quickly between Bernie and the box, which was already vibrating, the shaking growing more violent by the second. Maggie didn’t hesitate.
She scooped it up, cradling it in her hands and felt the vibrations from it travel up her arms, chattering her teeth. A wave of energy passed through her that felt exactly like the last time she rode a roller coaster and flipped upside down, twisting around a steep curve.
“How is this possible?” Her voice had a hum to it as if her entire chest were vibrating. But just as suddenly, it stopped, and the stillness hung in the air. She swallowed hard and realized she was still gripping her gun in her other hand. “Hope you don’t have plans, Bernie because I’m going to be asking you questions for a while.” Maggie never took her eyes off the box. A shudder went down her spine.
Bernie stood frozen right where he was, his mouth hanging open as one by one, different parts of the small box in Maggie’s hand shifted and pieces unfolded like petals, revealing an inner chamber. Inside was a small brass compass with five black needles pointing in different directions covered with a clear glass face. One of the needles was pointing directly at Maggie.
“The compass, it was yours all along,” gasped Bernie, staring at Maggie. “You’re the new Elemental.” The compass began to make a whirring noise, the needles spinning as the tiny cogs behind it spun, faster and faster. The round knob on the top of the compass popped open, pushing it up at an angle and small, metallic wings spread out to the sides, fluttering as the compass took flight.
Maggie watched the wings movement. “I’m pretty sure this is not possible,” she whispered, as the intricate piece of machinery hovered in front of her face. She put her hand up closer to it and it dropped back into her palm, the wings folding up as the knob popped back into place. She heard Bernie swear under his breath. “Leo swore it couldn’t be you.” Bernie put out his hand to touch the compass, laying inert in the center of the open box, still in Maggie’s hand.
“Back off!” Maggie recovered herself, remembering why she was standing in her garage on her morning off. She kept out her hand that held the compass, not sure what to do but made sure her other hand was pointing her weapon at Bernie.
“You’re going to need to put those hands up, Bernie. I haven’t forgotten that you broke in here. You’re coming downtown with me unless you can give me a really good reason for why you know the first thing about me and how that connects to breaking into my garage and what you want with Poppy’s tools.”
“Not the tools Bernie wiggled his fingers above his head, muttering the same garbled words Maggie had heard before but she still couldn’t make out what he was saying.
“What are you
Large, clear bubbles floated in a cluster near the ceiling of the small, cinder block garage caught her attention. Maggie frowned but didn’t have time to do anything more than that.
An old ball peen hammer rose off the floor from the pile of tools and landed neatly in Bernie’s open hand.
Maggie felt another shudder go down her spine but there was no time to make sense out of any of it. “Have to stop eating brownies from Mom. I told her that wasn’t cool after the last time.”
Bernie’s arm was already pulled back, launching the hammer in the direction of Maggie’s head, leaning into the pitch. She ducked just as the hammer breezed past her head, tucking her chin, just for a moment. “Okay, now we’re done playing. Attacking an officer guarantees you that ride downtown.”
Maggie’s head was only tilted down for a second but when she looked up Bernie was gone, and so was the compass. “Not a chance he got past me.” She ran across the short divide, ducking behind the metal shelves but there was no sign of him. “How the hell did he get past me?”
A large moth fluttered near her head, and she swatted at it, her head still working on a swivel.
“Ow, did that thing just bite me?” She pulled in her hand and saw two small red marks. “I just got bitten by a baby mothra.” She looked back up. “What a weird day.” Out in the yard the chickens were all out of the coop, running along the fence squawking. Maggie ran to the fence, easily jumping up onto the wooden cross bar to get a better look into her neighbor’s yard. No sign of Bernie anywhere.
She ran down the side of her Caribbean-blue bungalow and out to Pressler Street, but it was sleepy this time of day. A man in a green puffy coat with the hood pulled close against the wind, hurried along the street, not bothering to look back at Maggie. A small black Labrador looked up from a front yard two doors down and started barking at Maggie till she darted back the way she came. “Damn, where could that old man have gone?”
The chickens continued to race back and forth as the moth took to higher ground, flying closer to the top of the old pecan tree. It landed in the crook of the old tree where it was hidden from view, just as a large bubble popped next to it, releasing the small compass. The moth settled on top of it, biding its time.
Maggie’s brow furrowed as she jumped down from the fence, looking for any further signs of trouble. A white and black Dorking hen nipped at the wire fencing surrounding the coop, clucking loudly. “Calm down Gertie. The trouble has already passed.” She let out a sigh, one hand on her hip. “Best alarm system there is in my own backyard and that asshole got in and got out without a peep from anyone of you. Damn, what the hell just happened?”
She rubbed the marks on her wrist. “Did a compass really fly?”





About Martha:

But from the day I walked into the Philadelphia library and found out there was a place that would let me borrow books to read, bring them back and get more, I was hooked on telling a good story. My love affair with books has been a theme throughout my entire life but my first taste of getting a review was when I was nine years old.

My Dad dropped off the three youngest of us at the movies and drove off without checking the movie listing. It was 1960’s style parentingTurns out it was a Vincent Price triple horror feature in black and white. Scary stuff in the day. Lots of blood and poisonous vines and a little murder. My brother and sister insisted on leaving but I knew this was the only movie I was going to get to see and I wasn’t budging. I stayed all by myself.

The next week when we were asked to write a Halloween story in school, I wrote my first thriller and filled it with all my newfound knowledge, with a twist. My father was called in to explain and like he did whenever he had to visit a principal for one of his kids (even if it was his fault), my father the minister wore his collar. Bottom lineI saw the power of words and weaving a good tale and just kept going. I mean, I scared the teacher with a good horror story Vincent Price style. The wheels started turning.

Fast forward through writing for the Washington Post, having a nationally syndicated column on politics, a few books and FINALLY, I got back to that inner nerdy kid and started writing about Elves and Wizards and magic again in the bestselling series, THE LEIRA CHRONICLES. A little thriller, a lot of magic, some loyal friends, a swearing troll and a detective named Leira Berens who never gives up and always believes in the possibilities. All adds up to a really good time and feels like I finally came home. A lot more adventures to follow





Giveaway Details:
1 winner will receive a $25 Amazon gift card, US Only.
1 winner will receive a peapod silver necklace, International.
1 winner will receive a Peapod mug with the logo, International.




Tour Schedule:
Week One:
4/29/2019- Two Chicks on BooksExcerpt
4/29/2019- K.L. Novitzke AuthorExcerpt

4/30/2019- Colorimetry- Excerpt
4/30/2019- Jaime's WorldExcerpt

5/1/2019- Book Sniffers AnonymousExcerpt
5/1/2019- Book BriefsReview

5/2/2019- Books a Plenty Book ReviewsReview
5/2/2019- Owl Always Be ReadingExcerpt

5/3/2019- Angel's Guilty PleasuresExcerpt
5/3/2019- BookHoundsInterview

Week Two:
5/6/2019- Down the Rabbit HoleReview
5/6/2019- Wonder StruckExcerpt

5/7/2019- Triquetra ReviewsGuest Post
5/7/2019- A Gingerly ReviewReview

5/8/2019- Lilly's Book WorldReview
5/8/2019- ParajunkeeExcerpt

5/9/2019- Lone Tree ReviewsReview
5/9/2019- Smada's Book SmackSpotlight

5/10/2019- AURELIA LEOInterview

#Excerpt w/ Qeya: HEAVEN'S EDGE box set by @JennSilverwood w/ @PrismBookTours #Giveaway

On Tour with Prism Book Tours



Heaven's Edge Box Set
(Heaven's Edge #1-#3)
By Jennifer Silverwood
YA SciFi, Steampunk
ebook, 290 Pages
July 10, 2018 by JayHenge Publishing

Only by working together will they survive...

A group of refugees from a powerful, sophisticated Core World planet have been on the run for seven years. The mission was to get away and give their children some time to grow up and help them carry on the cause. The cause was to help the rebellion, win the war and go home. But things didn’t quite turn out the way they planned.

QEYA #1

Qeya, the future Queen of Datura, can't do much about her red hair, but she knows how to wield a scythe blade and suck the life out of her enemy, literally. Life seems great, if a little boring on heaven's edge. Until her ship is attacked and nearly everyone on board is murdered. Now, the miner who saved her is the only thing standing between her and the hungry beasts hunting them.

OHRE #2

All Ohre wants is the kind of freedom a life in the sea can give. But he doesn't want to live it alone anymore. He wants the princess and if Qeya won’t come willingly, he’ll make her.

TAMN #3

Tamn has always lived by a code. He doesn't question his duty. Until his crew is stranded on a hostile alien world and he's forced to watch the girl he loves burn in the sky. Stripped of his reason for living, the voices from his past haunt and guide him in a path of endless retribution. Only the strongest will survive the trials ahead and Tamn is determined to keep the family he has left alive.

MEET THE CREW HERE

**Box Set includes first three Heaven's Edge Novellas**


Excerpt on Tour!

QEYA


Moments pass through life that are impossible to take back, stepping stones that may lead you on a path you were meant to take. And sometimes a stepping stone breaks loose and you plunge into the river instead. This was one of those moments.

Glancing at the keypad fastened to the inner lift wall, I hesitated only a moment before pressing the wrong button. Shutting my eyes, I wondered what my punishment for this would be and then squashed the idea out of my head. Though I would never admit it to them, the twins had a point about taking risks. What else was life worth living in the end?

“Fourth deck…” I spoke once the lift was cloaked from all detection. And then I was plummeting down faster and farther than I had ever gone before. Third deck at least was some intermediary area between the two coexisting cultures. No one ever went to fourth deck, not even my parents.

The lift door opened with a rusty hiss and a thick film coated the air. Scents of the essence we stole from gas worlds clung to every crevice. Here the lights were dimmer for eyes more accustomed to darkness. The deck was eerily silent, save the constant clank, hiss and grind of gears and metalwork ahead. Rather than smooth opalescent illusions of Daturan palaces, here the walls were crudely cut and wreathed in pipes and wires and grime.

Breathing shallowly, I felt my second translucent eyelids shield from a potentially hazardous environment. I shivered from the cold and trod as softly as my boots would allow. I saw nothing of the tattooed intruders as I’d half expected I would, and wondered if anyone used this particular entrance anymore. For the first time, the thought crossed my mind: was this what Datura 3 had looked like before we appropriated it?

Hands braced out to the walls on either side of my small frame as I tried to watch my step and keep balance. Born into a position that demanded much attention as it was, it did not help matters that I couldn’t blend in with the crowd even if I’d wanted to. For what happened next, I blame on said genetics.

A figure reached from the shadows behind, dragged me backwards and against a taller muscle-hardened frame. I struggled, reaching desperately for the retractable scythe hiding in my belt. As if he already knew my weaknesses, he pinned me so I was half-molded into him and the nearest wall. It hurt.

After waiting a few tense moments for me to calm down, he rasped against my ear. “Took you long enough to get down here. Wondered how long you’d need to work up the nerve.”

And even though I had only heard his voice from a distance once before and speaking in a different tongue, I knew instantly that the miner had found me first. “Think you have more nerve,
do you? So important you are, helping your friend show the royals who’s in charge, huh?” I pressed him because I was uncomfortable, angry at being caught and excited beyond all account. After all, this was the most stirring event to have happened to me since the last pirate ship we crossed.

Instead of backing off the younger miner held me even tighter. “That’s right. Since none of you show any sense.”

“Is this really necessary?” I tried to wedge some space between us with my elbow.

He laughed with low disdain. “Bothers you to be held by a filthy miner, doesn’t it?”

Ignoring him I tried a different approach and relaxed my muscles. “Not as much as it bothers me that you just grabbed me without even trying to warn me first. If you’re trying to undo ages of prejudice, maybe you should start by acting civil.”

“We never pretended to care about your rules, Royal.” When I didn’t respond and the silence was long enough to his satisfaction, “So now I’ve upset you well enough. What say we give the proper greet?”

And just as suddenly, just as my fingers managed to clasp around the edge of my scythe blade, he twisted me around and let me go. His hands steadied my shoulders when I stumbled. My eyes narrowed, peering up into his. “What are you expecting?”

He ignored my question. “What reason have you to come here? I saw you before on third deck, once.” The shadows were so dense I could barely see his smirk. He gave no better explanation, only added, “I’m called Ohre.”

“Qeya.” I breathed. My eyes were arrested, linked to his in a breath so instantly brief and long I gasped to catch up when his hand grasped mine. A hot fire, shiver of feeling and emotion sparked at our touch. The miners were like us in yet another way.

There was something disturbingly natural about the way his skin felt warm against mine. In his eyes I saw his weariness, a life spent serving others just to live another day. In his eyes I saw the kind of strength that is beat into a person rather than born into them. In his eyes I saw the appreciation and wonder he had for me. Like he was to me, I was different from anything else in his world and it drew us together like a host to a parasite. I had a feeling once he got under my skin he was there to stay.


About the Author


Jennifer Silverwood was raised deep in the heart of Texas and has been spinning yarns a mile high since childhood. In her spare time, she reads and writes and tries to sustain her wanderlust, whether it's the Carpathian Mountains in Transylvania, the highlands of Ecuador, or a road trip to the next town. Always on the lookout for her next adventure, in print or reality, she dreams of one day proving to the masses that everything really is better in Texas. She is the author of three series--Heaven's Edge, Wylder Tales and the Borderlands Saga--and the stand-alone titles Stay and She Walks in Moonlight. She recently released her first serialized Urban Fantasy, Angel Blue in August 2018.


Tour Schedule


Tour Giveaway


- 1 winner will receive a $50 Amazon eGift Card
3 winners will receive a digital/print copy (print to US only) of any book of their choosing in Jennifer's backlist
- Open internationally
- Ends May 8, 2019

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Sharing the Love of Books
Enjoy our selection of New Releases / Free & Bargain Books this week

Authors please feel free to add your own books
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#BookBlitz THE SPITTING POST by Jason R. Barden #giveaway @PrismBookTours

On Tour with Prism Book Tours


Book Blitz for
The Spitting Post
By Jason R. Barden

The Spitting Post
By Jason R. Barden
Dark Fantasy
Paperback & ebook, 220 Pages
December 8th 2017 by The Wild Rose Press

Vincent Carpenter’s life is a wreck. He has given up his dreams. He has lost his job after an economic disaster. His ten-year marriage is crumbling. Then he awakens in a maniacal land of frighteningly vivid realism with skull trees, glowing forests, ravenous beasts, and other psychologically haunting adversity.

While traveling through this demented unearthly world, he has a chance encounter with a beautiful maiden dressed in green; before he can start a conversation, she disappears into the unknown. Vincent must try to find her at a fantastical place known as the Spitting Post. But first he must overcome many macabre misfortunes and face nightmares that question his sanity. Will he reach her? What will the Spitting Post reveal? Will he suffer more disappointment and tragedy? Or will he find peace at last?


Excerpt

I was lost in thought when again I heard the violin’s call. It was close this time—too close. I stopped and surveyed the land with terrified eyes, growing more anxious with each passing note. The ambient tune working itself into a manic frenzy. Can’t they shut up? With that racket the beast would find us, and I knew what would happen when it did. There would be no more violin playing for that musician, and I would never find The Green Maiden.

I scanned the countryside for the insane violinist and spotted him on a small hill just to my right. When I saw his ghastly appearance, I almost wished I hadn’t found him. He was a stout man dressed in total blackness with a red violin resting against his shoulder. His skin was a brilliant white, as white as a bed sheet. On his head was a black top hat, and he wore a twisted grin on his porcelain face.

“What are you doing?” I yelled. “It will hear us!”

The man said nothing and kept playing his maddening melody.

“Are you crazy?”

The man opened his mouth wide and without moving his lips, he said, “Precisely.”

Then he began to cry tears of blood, yet still he played. The blood rolled down his face and pooled on the grass. Then I came to a grotesque realization. He was not playing for amusement; he was calling the beast.

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About the Author


Jason R. Barden began writing poetry around the age of thirteen. At age thirty-three, he transitioned into dark fantasy and horror fiction. His first novel The Spitting Post is available at Amazon and other online retailers. In addition to writing, he enjoys hiking and photography.


Blitz Giveaway


1 winner will receive a $10 Amazon eGift Card
Ends April 21, 2019

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#CoverReveal ! COLD FALLING WHITE by G.S. Prendergast @GabrielleSaraP @RockstarBkTours #Giveaway



Today Gabrielle Prendergast and Rockstar Book Tours are revealing the cover for COLD FALLING WHITE, the sequel to her Sci-Fi Book ZERO REPEAT FOREVER which releases November 19, 2019! Check out the awesome cover and enter the giveaway!


On to the reveal! 


About The Book:
Title: COLD FALLING WHITE (The Nahx Invasions #2)
Author: G.S. Prendergast
Pub. Date: November 19, 2019
Publisher: Simon Schuster Books for Young Readers
Formats: Hardcover, eBook, audiobook
Pages: 352
Find it: GoodreadsAmazonKindleAudibleB&NiBooksKoboTBD

The 5th Wave meets Beauty and the Beast in this fast-paced and heart-stopping follow-up to Zero Repeat Forever, which VOYA called “an edge-of-your-seat page-turner.”

Xander Liu survived the end of the world—just barely. For more than a year he has outsmarted, hidden from, and otherwise avoided the ruthless alien invaders, the Nahx, dodging the deadly darts that have claimed so many of his friends. When the murder of his friend Raven leaves him in the protective company of August, a rebellious Nahx soldier, Xander is finally able to make his way back to human controlled territory and relative safety.

But safety amongst the humans is not what it seems. Nothing is anymore.

Raven remembers dying in the arms of August. She remembers the pain, and the way he cried as she faded away. But months later when she wakes up on a wide expanse of snowy sand dunes, shackled to a boy she thought was dead too, she has a lot of questions. What has happened to her and the other reanimated humans gathered on the dunes? What is the meaning of the Nahx ships that hover ominously above them? And most pressing of all, where is August, who promised to keep her safe?

In the shadow of an unforgiving Canadian winter, Xander and Raven find themselves on opposite sides of an alien war neither of them signed up for. Left with little choice about their roles in the great battle that now seems inevitable, they search for answers and allies, all while feeling inexorably drawn back the place it seems their respective fates were determined, and to the one who determined them: August.



Title: ZERO REPEAT FOREVER (The Nahx Invasions #2)
Author: G.S. Prendergast
Pub. Date: August 29, 2017
Publisher: Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers
Formats: Hardcover, Paperback, eBook, audiobook
Pages: 496
Find it: GoodreadsAmazonKindleAudibleB&NiBooksKoboTBD

The 5th Wave meets Beauty and the Beast in this fast-paced and heart-stopping novel about an invasion of murderous creatures and one girl fighting for her life at the end of the world.
He has no voice, or name, only a rank, Eighth. He doesn’t know the details of the mission, only the directives that hum in his mind.

Dart the humans. Leave them where they fall.

His job is to protect his Offside. Let her do the shooting.

Until a human kills her…

Sixteen year-old Raven is at summer camp when the terrifying armored Nahx invade, annihilating entire cities, taking control of the Earth. Isolated in the wilderness, Raven and her friends have only a fragment of instruction from the human resistance.

Shelter in place.

Which seems like good advice at first. Stay put. Await rescue. Raven doesn’t like feeling helpless but what choice does she have?

Then a Nahx kills her boyfriend.

Thrown together in a violent, unfamiliar world, Eighth and Raven should feel only hate and fear. But when Raven is injured, and Eighth deserts his unit, their survival comes to depend on trusting each other… 

ZERO REPEAT FOREVER Book Trailer:




About Gabrielle:

Gabrielle is a writer, teacher and designer living in Vancouver, Canada.  You can read about her books here. She is represented by Barbara Poelle at the Irene Goodman Literary Agency.
In 2014 she was the Writer in Residence at Vancouver Public Library. In 2015 she was nominated for the BC Book Prizes and chosen to tour the province to promote BC Books. In 2017 Gabrielle took part in the TD Canada Children’s Book Week Tour. She has also been nominated for the White Pine Awardand the CLA Award.

Gabrielle won the Westchester Award for Audacious. Audacious was included in CBC’s list of 100 YA Books That Make You Proud to be Canadian. A poem from Capricious was chosen for the 2014 Poetry in Transit Program. Pandas on the East Side was chosen as an Ontario Library Association Best Bet for Junior Fiction in 2016. It was also nominated/shortlisted for the Chocolate Lily Award, The Red Cedar Award, the Diamond Willow Award and the Myrca Award.


Giveaway Details:
1 winner will receive a signed Zero Repeat Forever hardcover, USA and Canada Only.