Friday, January 31, 2014

Unremarkable Blog Tour

Thrust into a reality that should be myth, Honor does what she has to do to survive. Some things are easy to say goodbye to. Others things, like her very being, are not so easy to let go of. And when she does, what then? What will she become?

As Honor fights to remain unaltered when everything around her, including her, has been, she is met with adversaries and champions. Ryder, Christian, Nealon—they all have a goal. Only Honor doesn’t know if their goals coincide with hers...or Superior August’s and the UDK society.

One thing she does know: the world isn’t big enough for all of them.

“I…killed…him,” she moaned, quietly weeping.
“You had no choice.” Even as he said it, he knew it was true. There was no other way she would have taken another life.
Tragedy-hued orbs lifted and stared. “You always have a choice, Ryder. This time, I chose me.” Her lips trembled and she blinked, dislodging a cascade of tears.


Doll Parts - Hole
Sail - Awolnation
Die Young - Kesha
My Body - Young the Giant
Renegade - Styx
Clumsy - Our Lady Peace
Alice - Avril Lavigne
Unwell - Matchbox Twenty
Pardon Me - Incubus
Kingdom Come - The Civil Wars
Can't Change Me - Chris Cornell
Scar Tissue - Red Hot Chili Peppers
Down - 311
Dog Days Are Over - Florence and the Machine
Believer - Viva Voce
One Foot - Fun

If you haven't yet - get into this series now, while they're both on sale for only 99¢


There are three kinds of people in the world: those who are alive, those who are undead, and those who can see the undead.

Honor Rochester found out she's one of the three, and it's not the one she would prefer to be.

She can accept her fate and live as is decided for her. Or not live at all.
Goodreads // Amazon // B&N


I've been writing since I was a wee lass. I was reading before that; possibly while still in the womb. Don't think about that too much.

I started out with short horror stories and poetry. I was terrible at it. The poems not so much, but the stories were awful.

I decided to finish a book (and I DO mean finish--I'd started plenty throughout the years) when I was in my mid-twenties (so not that long ago because I'm young and will forever stay that way). Again, not my best work.

But that's the thing about writing; it improves with time. (It's also a good thing to know your work can't possibly be any worse than it was when you first started.)

What I love most about writing is having people tell me how much they enjoy my work; how my writing touches them; makes them feel intensely.

Bringing a reader to laughter or tears is a wonderful feeling for a writer, and no, I'm not sadistic. *insert evil laugh HERE* It means I got them to feel, to respond to something I created.

Also, I just like to make stuff up and put it down on paper. I have an endless supply of stories in my head; lots of stuff to share with the world.

Happy Reading!