Tell your friends! Crazy Good is on sale for a limited time only.
Image courtesy of ReadinginPajamas
Today was supposed to be the official release for Crazy Good. Instead, it’s flying high on the bestseller charts and I have no one to thank except for you. My readers. You guys love their unorthodox love story and I thank you for that. It’s always a little scary deviating from the norm. 60%, anyone? I didn’t write it to torture you, nor did I write it for shock value. It’s real. It’s not my reality (thank heavens), but it’s a reality that is close to home. My home. And my swirling, not-normal, slice of life.
With HUGE hesitation, apprehension, and a little holy-shit-what-am-I-doing, I shared a piece of my slice with the world. Thank you for welcoming Windsor and Maverick into your lives. Thank you for your awesome reviews. They make me laugh and cry and question whether the reviewers should be the ones writing novels. Thank you for the 4 a.m. up-all-night e-mails. Thank you for the Facebook messages and comments that make me feel like by writing a book I’ve entered YOUR slice of life.
The frequently asked question this week has been: Morganna. Will she have a book?
The short answer: Yes!
The long answer: Morganna was the very first character I formed before writing Crazy Good. It’s odd that a secondary character came first, I know. She’s the backbone, if you will. I have no idea when her I’ll finish her story, but I will. :) Stay tuned.
Announcement! (You know, other than that amazing banner up there with Windsor and Maverick all steamy like.)
Crazy Good will be released on April 14th. You’ll be able to get your copy where all eBooks are sold. Paperback copies will be available for order on Amazon. Keep an eye out here for buy links on or around release day.
Questions? Comments? You’re a reviewer and want an ARC? Send me a message!
What’s Crazy Good about?
They’re kind of an enigma. The glimpses inside their lives are usually reserved to big box office movies where their unique skill sets are portrayed with guns blazing and missions impossible. They are Navy SEALs. Windsor and Maverick’s love story is true and it’s raw…it’s real. Because life with a SEAL isn’t nearly as glamorous as it’s portrayed, or even how uninformed romance novels spin it. Every SEAL isn’t the same, but they all have one thing in common—it’s a force that drives them forward; it makes them engage in extremes in every facet of their lives. Even in love.
Because Crazy Good is told from alternating point of views you get to be behind the gun, inside the mind of a man who strives for perfection in everything. Then on the flip, Windsor’s view, the delicate balance of frailty and acceptance in an unfamiliar relationship, dealing with the strong highs and desperate, depraved lows. Having a romantic relationship with a SEAL isn’t like anything else. They aren’t normal. The word normal isn’t in their vocabulary.
Behind every great man stands a stupendous woman—or something like that. What type of woman does it take to stand beside a SEAL? I’m here to tell you they posses more bravery and courage than their counterparts who imbibe danger as a thrilling sport. Although this is Windsor and Maverick’s fictional story, it’s served with a huge heaping of reality. It’s a glimpse at what goes on when men like Maverick aren’t doing what you see on the news or on movie screens. You can only be crazy if you have good to balance it out.
It’s a fact.
And with that, we’ll let the countdown begin. :)
Welcome to the Eternal Press Authors Valentine Blog Hop!
*Leave a comment and your email address anytime from February 9th through February 15th at 5 p.m. eastern time for a chance to win 1 of 3 grand prize packages of 7 e-books from the fabulous and talented authors listed below.
*Be sure to visit each author and comment to increase your chance of winning.
*PSSST participating authors will be holding their own drawings as well…so check out their temptations! Eternal Press has kicked in some swag for our wonderful hoppers and each author will be drawing for that awesome give away!
Don’t forget to keep hopping and commenting at our Eternal Press authors listed below
Scroll all the way to the bottom for another little surprise…….
Somer’s Rising, Book 2 of the McRaidy Clan
For The Love Of His Life
Jeremy E. Elwell
Passion Surrender releasing 2014
Kissing Another Grimaldi
Angel in My Heart, Devil in My Soul
Dare to Breathe
Ross S. Simon
Affaire de Coeur
Another little gift for you! Hop over to http://www.eternalpress.biz/ and use promo code 20EPdb14 at check out for 25% off your entire ebook order.
***Hey guys! From all of the comments I receive here on my personal website I’ll draw one winner. The prize: Any TWO of my e-books (ESCAPED, EMBRACED, or SIX and an Eternal Press swag tote bag sent directly from my publisher.)***
****And if one of my long time fans happens to win and a, “Hey! I have all three of those already” situation happens, I’ll send you an e-book ARC of CRAZY GOOD, my Contemporary Romance novel releasing this spring. :-)
I know, I know, I haven’t updated in a while. I also haven’t updated my “other blog” in like six months. A year? Two years? Cringe. Which is a real shame, because she’s a mean, mean girl and I’ll probably be punished. *heh* Let me wax poetic for a few seconds about how I used to be such a good blogger. I would post something every-single-day. I would edit photos and post funny stories. I left notes on my friend’s blogs with thoughtful comments as well as bookmarking awesome recipes and DIY projects. Pinterest? Psh. That time muncher ate up six hours every night.
Then I wrote books. Everything changed after I wrote books. I couldn’t stop. That’s what happens if you’re lucky, you know? Characters prattle about their problems and flick your brain while you try to drink your morning coffee. Alas, my child goes without being photographed (by a non-iPhone camera) and the only time I pull up photoshop is when I need a cool graphic to promote a novel. So sad. But so happy, too.
So, what am I doing? I’m finishing up a Contemporary Romance novel. If the stars align the first draft will be done by the end of month. By first draft I mean fourth, because I’ve been editing as I go. Old dog, new tricks. So, that’s sort of today’s announcement. Another book. My fourth!
I want to talk to you guys like I used to talk to you guys. Like Rachel the blogger who made you laugh while you shook your head in disgust. Oh, you know you did. Don’t lie. Thank you to all of my friends, family and fans who have followed my journey this far. Your support means the world to me. Every comment you leave, every book review you write is like a freakin’ bear hug. I love you guys so hard.
Which is why my upcoming novel is for you. For those of you who loved the wit and banter. And for those of you who pushed this idea down my throat until I choked on it. I finally vomited it back up in the form of a full fledged novel. It took the bravery of a soldier to write it. Wait…let’s rephrase–it took the bravery of a Navy SEAL to write this damn book. Literally. :) This is Maverick and Windsor’s
love story. It’s a brutally honest story about loss, hope, destruction, and of course love (with a ginormous heaping of sex-crazed-LUST.) Sorry, Grandma. You’re going to have to sit this one out. *side eye* Crazy good is crazy close to my heart for a billion different reasons. Let me just say, when people tell you to write what you know, they mean it. It’s a genius concept that people don’t adhere to enough. Folks, I’m a believer. It’s time to introduce you to my new baby.
Stay tuned for a blurb or an excerpt, or something Crazy good related. As soon as I lock down a release date (it will be this year!) I will let everyone know. Thank you guys again. Keep posting. Liking (I’m on Insta @rachelrobinsonauthor), writing reviews and most all, supporting me. I couldn’t do this without you.
My publisher is putting on a huge giveaway during Valentines day. I think the grand prize winners will win like 18 e-books?! Escaped, Embraced and Six will be among them. I’ll be posting about that soon, too. Until next time, friends.
Stay classy and fill those cups with love and light.
As promised, here is the first chapter of SIX. November 16th is the new release date! Write it down. Tell your friends. Do a little dance.
January 10th, Midday
My body is tired. Running is something I have not done since childhood. The dark part of my body can go on. The human part wants to rest. Nothingness is even darker than I imagined it would be. Thick, black trees cover the gray hazy light that I can usually see in the sky. The air smells different, my skin feels odd, and my anger is still tepid. I wait for it to leave because it makes me feel awkward. Having never been able to control my fear, I now wonder if anger laces every waking moment. On its own, I prefer it to fear because it is more bearable—it drives a response from somewhere new. All of the sub-emotions connected to anger are flashing through my system. They are powerful and unrelenting.
My worn out boots crunch the ground as I walk. The echoing noise only serves to make me angrier. The sounds will give away my location and the dark witches will know where I have gone. It is not a matter of if they will. I know they will come after me. I take off my boots, strip off my socks, and continue to tread lightly on the cold ground. For a moment I forget why I do not want the witches to find me, but then I remember her dead body and her whispered last words. They were not empty words as so many of the words she spoke throughout my lifetime. They will kill you when they are done with you. Just like they killed her after her job was completed.
Anger. The emotion is blistering.
I will remind myself of her words when I feel the urge to return to my fated life.
I urge my feet to move faster through the forest to explore. I force my blue eyes to glow a magical bright white to cast addi- tional light on the trail ahead of me. When I hear something move in the distance, I freeze. The black trees look icy but it is just an illusion—they are very much alive and thriving. After the old world fell, magical spells encased the new world to keep it from dying off. I think perhaps it is a tree making the noise, but then I hear a low, gruff growl. I know then that the creatures have found me.
They are glistening, humanoid killing machines that have forced me indoors for most of my life. The wretched creatures are why my fear never left, because they refused to go as well.
I shut my eyes to hide the light that signals my otherness and the growling immediately ceases. Walking a few paces away to a large clump of trees, I slump against a trunk and heave a sigh. Quietness surrounds me as I lace my boots back on. Next, I dig my fingers into the murky, ashen dirt by my sides, desperate to keep my magic quelled. I have been wandering aimlessly, without a stopping point, and my magic is urging me to use it as a solution.
Vibration uncontrollably wracks my humming frame. It signals the magic now coursing through my body, just as vital as blood. Forcing the urges away like I used to do is no longer an option. I am eighteen and the transition is almost complete. My humanness is almost gone. Now, I am more dark witch than anything else. I would pretend for my human mother, but now there is no point. I can be what I was born to become.
My stomach suddenly growls, reminding me of the human parts that will never disappear. I clutch my middle and think about my worn storybook that I left behind in my home. I want to go back for it, but know I cannot without the witches catching me. Something buried deep inside heaves when I think of my home, my book, and my dead mother. My memory knows the story from my book by heart so I begin to recite it in my head. The familiar, hollow words calm me—they make me forget, they numb me.
I hear movement again and know without a doubt it is coming from the trees. I look up and gaze at the static branches and the still leaves. I feel the anger leaving as I take in my surroundings. With the creatures at bay, I realize I am comfortable in nothingness. I feel I do not exist to anyone else—it satisfies me completely. Nature blankets me wholly. It is an entity that has long forgotten my name. Hearing another rustle, my eyes spark white.
“Turn it off!” A female voice hisses from above. My eyes glow brighter in fear.
“I’m serious, bitch. The savages are here.”
The creatures have a different name in nothingness, as do I. I know they are one and the same. I still cannot urge my blue eyes to come. The terror and anger are back and stronger than ever. Rasping hot, stinking breath is so close I can feel it prickling my exposed skin.
The girl’s voice sighs loudly above me in the trees, and then I hear a brisk flick of something. An arrow hisses through the air and hits the savage directly between the black, protruding eyes. It falls toward me, but I nimbly move away from its hulking, slimy corpse. Swallowing loudly, I examine the steaming monster on the ground in front of me. I have never seen one close up. Growing up I would watch them from my bedroom window as they hid behind trees and stalked in the fields by my house. They sensed I was not human and they wanted to kill me. When my magic got stronger, my mother did not let me leave the confines of the house’s walls. Because of this creature and many more like it, I was a prisoner.
Remembering why it is on the ground and not brutally ripping me limb from limb, I warily look up.
A girl drops down from the trees, lithe and graceful. I stare at her, committing every feature to memory. The girl is my savior. She wears a worn plaid shirt and torn blue jeans. Her bow and quiver swings on her back like a brave warrior and her eyes do not glow, nor are they a recognizable human shade. Her eyes are a milky silver. She is one of whom my mother spoke. I know she is not a dark witch. She is a darkling—a half-human, half-dark witch. The girl is like me.
She suddenly yells, “I said turn it off! You freak!”
I flinch away from her. I do not understand her words and her tone is unfamiliar. She bends over the savage and grasps the head. I shudder when I hear her hands press into the goopy flesh. As she jerks, tendons fray and the head eventually pops off the body. My eyes widen in shock. I have never seen such brutality.
“Savages?” I ask. She tosses the head several feet away and then meets my gaze.
“Yes, freak. Savages…and more will be here soon if you don’t turn that shit off!” She points at my face, indicating my eyes as she kicks the corpse away and readies her bow to shoot again. I introduce myself.
“I am Emmalina Weaver.” My eyes are blue again—my dark side buried. I look at her from the back. She is small, yet strong. Pulling the bowstring back, she locks her sights on something and holds her breath. In response I hold my breath, too. She does not let the arrow go though. She slowly lowers her bow to aim at the ground and turns to look at me curiously.
“Well, well, Emma. Finally pulled your act together? Took you long enough. Nice eyes by the way.” The girl squints in the darkness to peer at my face.
“I am hungry,” I say quickly, in hopes of deterring her from realizing our differences. My blond hair contrasts starkly compared to her black, chin length hair that is similar to the dark witches that killed my mother, the common features I am sure most share. “Oh, Jesus. You’re hungry? You are really far gone, aren’t you? Fuck. I should just put you out of your misery now…just say the word,” she says icily. She places her hands on her hips and raises one eyebrow. The girl has asked a question I do not understand so I smile.
She raises her bow up, readying to shoot—in my direction. “No, please do not shoot me. I am frightened!” The girl cackles, her smile touching her eyes. “Okay, not all the way gone, then.” I passed a test. I smile back at her. She shakes her head as she lowers her weapon. “They are going to fucking kill me for this,” she says, stomping one foot on the ground. Her words confuse me. I want to ask if she knows where I can find food, but she was not happy when I told her of my hunger, so I ask her a question instead.
“Who? The creatures will kill you?” I ask. It seems to me that she is prepared to take on the creatures—or anything else that lurks in nothingness. I would be dead if not for her lethal shooting and decapitating abilities.
She swings her bow down by her side as she scans the forest. “No. Not the creatures.” When she finally looks at me, she closes her eyes and sucks in a deep breath. She opens them and her eyes rove my body a few more times.
“The dark witches killed my mother this morning. They came for me, but I ran from them. I will hide in nothingness,” I tell her, hoping to portray humanness by sharing a story. Though saying the words aloud makes me realize my plan is not solid. I have nowhere to go.
“Today? They came for you today?” Her forehead wrinkles and I sense fear in her voice. I am aware of it, just as I was able to sense it in my mother.
“Yes. Today,” I say.
She scans the woods once more while asking, “You ran? Why?” I am hesitant to tell her—I think she will not comprehend my reasons. I look down to the ground and answer her honestly.
“Because I felt.”
Her head snaps back to look at me. She looks me up and down twice more before saying, “Then let’s get you the fuck out of here before the next thing you feel is death.” She extends her small hand toward me. Her eyes are a mix of worry and bravery.
“Okay,” I say while wrapping my hand around hers. I know what death means and it frightens me. Trusting the girl will keep me alive. She can protect me from the savages, which seem my greatest threat at the moment.
As we walk, the girl bends down and beheads another creature with one hard jerk. She picks up the stinking, sopping dome and throws it without releasing my hand. Pulling her bloody arrow out of the creature’s chest, she then slams it back into her quiver. Casually the girl says, “I’m Lana by the way.”
The girl is a savage of a different kind.
© 2013 by Rachel Robinson. All rights reserved.