Open Anthology Call for White Rabbit Anthology by Hallowed Ink Press

 

We are currently seeking short stories in the Young Adult and New Adult categories (all genres) that feature unusual superstitions or traditions.

“White Rabbit. White Rabbit. White Rabbit.”

On the first day of every month thousands of people say “White Rabbit”, “Rabbit”, or “bunny” three times to grant luck throughout the month, even to this day. While this odd ritual could be considered either superstition or tradition it has been honored by many families for centuries. Even famous presidents of the Unite States have admitted to honoring the superstition/tradition. Wall Street men say it for financial luck, knights in Europe for health and of course, everyday people like you and me. As the idea spread the reasoning behind the idea changed to the point where now many children in traditional families say it without understanding why (only knowing that good will come) and as the habit continues through generations the meaning is further skewed.

This unusual phenomenon sparked an idea.

Superstitions and traditions are common place but not necessarily noticed because we’ve grown so accustomed to them. So what would happen if a superstition or tradition went wrong? What if a pact had been made and as a tradition was broken that pact was broken too? What if supernatural creatures or children in the future had their own strange traditions? How strange could traditions truly get before it seemed out of place to the people doing them?

History changes like a childhood whispered game of telephone but what fascinating traditions should be listened to and which were meant to one day be broken?

White Rabbit started out as an unusual fixation and became a phenomenon. Featured in stories throughout the ages in many cases a white rabbit even became a sign of good luck or innocence. We hope to honor the strange tradition (with a bit of luck) and put together a novel featuring the unusual and unique from names both new and old.

If you would like to submit a short story for inclusion please e-mail your completed work to Submissions@HallowedInkPress.com with ‘White Rabbit Anthology’ in the title. We ask that you send the finished story inside of the e-mail – not attached – along with a short summary of the work and biography at the top.

We will not respond to queries that do not include the completed short story.

 

F.A.Q.s

Cover Art: Image by Raquel Neira – Typography by Emma Michaels

Cover not final:  Author names will be added to the cover after authors have been selected and signed on.

Deadline:

August 1^st though submissions will be reviewed as they are submitted. Once the slots are full the open call has the possibility of closing early.

Superstitions/Traditions:

The superstitions or traditions used do not have to be accurate and can be fictitious. We are more fascinated with the concept of unusual traditions and superstitions than factual accuracy.

Preferred story length:

We do not plan on being very strict in this regard. We are more focused on quality than length. We would, however, suggest that all stories be in the 2,000 – 10,000 word range.

Age ranges for audience:

YA & NA only

Acceptable genres:

All

Time periods:

Any including and not limited to historical, modern and futuristic.

Payment:

This is a royalty based anthology. All authors will be given a percentage of the earnings though no advance.

Formats:

This anthology will be released in both ebook and paperback. Ebook cards may also be added overtime along with other formats.

Editing:

We have an in house editor and copy editors.

Cover reveal for Drowned by Nichola Reilly

DROWNED by Nichola Reilly

published by Harlequin Teen, releasing June 24, 2014

ISBN: 978-0373211227

 

 

Coe is one of the few remaining teenagers on the island of Tides. Deformed and weak, she is constantly reminded that in a world where dry land dwindles at every high tide, she is not welcome. The only bright spot in her harsh and difficult life is the strong, capable Tiam—but love has long ago been forgotten by her society. The only priority is survival.

 

Until the day their King falls ill, leaving no male heir to take his place. Unrest grows, and for reasons Coe cannot comprehend, she is invited into the privileged circle of royal aides. She soon learns that the dying royal is keeping a secret that will change their world forever. 

 

Is there an escape from the horrific nightmare that their island home has become? Coe must race to find the answers and save the people she cares about, before their world and everything they know is lost to the waters.

 

Advance Praise for DROWNED:

 

"A resourceful and smart heroine and a society literally on the edge of survival. Take a deep breath, once you start reading you won't be able to stop!" -Maria Snyder, author of Poison Study

 

"It's difficult to find a really unique premise in today's crowded literary front, but Cyn Balog has done it in Drowned! This is a world like you've never seen before but with themes and issues that strike surprisingly close to home. A society where you literally earn your safety twice a day when the tide comes in and submerges everything? I admit, I wish I'd thought of it first. A thrilling, brilliant read!" -#1 New York Times bestselling author Aprilynne Pike

 

 "A gripping and romantic tale featuring a truly original heroine facing seemingly insurmountable odds. I loved it!" -- Morgan Rhodes, NYT Bestselling Author of Fallen Kingdoms

 

And some details about Nichola Reilly:

 

Nichola Reilly spent much of her childhood on the Barrier Islands of New Jersey, where late summer hurricanes would sometimes bring the ocean to her front door. She lives in Pennsylvania with her husband and daughters, where she dreams of low tide.

 

 

 

Release Day Blitz for Hard as you can by Laura Kaye

Release day is finally here! And I’m thrilled to share Hard As You Can, the second book in my Hard Ink series, with all of you here today!

Hard As You Can follows the surviving members of a disgraced Army Special Forces team as they fight to regain their stolen honor, and finds their investigation crossing paths with a waitress willing to do whatever it takes to stay alive and protect her younger sister. For Shane McCallan, saving Crystal Dean is a mission he refuses to turn down.

Today, I’m super excited to share a sexy and emotional excerpt with you guys! Here we go:

“Don’t look at me like that, Crystal,” Shane said, his voice a raw scrape. It wasn’t a demand or a threat. It was a plea. And the thought that this big, strong, powerful man was begging her for anything was thrilling. “Like what?” she asked, dragging her gaze up to his. In the diffuse light of the streetlamp, she could tell his eyes were absolutely blazing, and it only fueled the arousal rising up inside her. “Like maybe you want me the way I want you.” Tilting his head, he nuzzled his face against hers, the tip of his nose trailing over her cheek, his breath ghosting over her lips. “Like maybe you’d let me kiss you and touch you.” A quick brush of his lips against her temple and ear. “Like maybe you’d let me in.” Crystal could barely breathe for the way her heart was pounding and her pulse was racing.

She slid a hand up his chest to his neck, wanting, needing, just absolutely yearning to have this. Just this once. Leaning into him, Crystal held his gaze and adored the way his expression filled with such expectant satisfaction, like she’d surprised him. Pleased him. She pressed her lips to his. The groan he unleashed was needful, almost triumphant. His arms came around her gently and pulled her in. And it wasn’t enough. She needed to be closer. Deeper. She needed more of Shane McCallan. She might never get another chance. A flicker of unbidden panic whipped through her body. Bruno had been her only lover for the past four years, and she’d only been able to take him inside her after months’ buildup of trust and familiarity of touch. That was back before he’d shown his true colors. Or before she’d shed her naïveté. Maybe they were the same thing. Who knew? Stop thinking about Bruno and get out of your head. Just feel. You deserve this. You need this.

Besides, cart before horse, much? Shane pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. “I didn’t come here expecting this. Hoped, maybe.” He smiled. “But I really just needed to see you.” “I’m glad you came,” she said, combing her fingers through the sides of his hair, then holding his face in her hands. “What do you want, sweetness? I’d give you anything.” Over her hoodie, his hands rubbed up and down her back, hip to shoulder, hip to shoulder. Crystal couldn’t find the words, so she tilted her face and claimed his lips, and this time the kiss unleashed a fire that seemed to flash through both of them.

 She shifted into a kneeling position between his thighs, and he hauled her into his lap so that she straddled him. The position brought the hard length of his cock between her legs and she gasped and moaned at the feel of him so close to where she was wet and wanting. They pressed closer, held tighter, kissed more deeply until all Crystal knew, all that existed in the world, was this moment, this place, this man. Shane’s hands moved over her body. Fisting in the long lengths of her hair. Gently cupping and massaging her breasts. Stroking her bare thighs. Crystal adored the way he seemed to need to touch her. How powerful and necessary human touch was.

How life-giving and affirming. And how simply mind-blowing was it to discover that touch could be a giving thing, not just about taking, that touch could be healing, and not just about hurting, that touch could comfort, and not just exert control. Even when things had been better with Bruno, they’d never been like this. And to think she’d found someone who could teach her something so fundamental that she’d never known before. Or, maybe, she’d known but hadn’t believed. Now she did. Because of Shane. No matter how little time she got to have him in her life, she would always be grateful that he’d shown her what it could be like. With the right person. Gripping her hair in his fist, Shane reclined her head, opening the line of her throat to his worshipful lips and tongue. He trailed a path of liquid fire over her flesh that left her dizzy, totally awash in sensation.

He tugged her hips in tighter, and Crystal moaned at the friction the movement created. He was deliciously hard and thick between her legs. Unable to resist, she rocked herself against him as he laid her back farther so he could kiss her the small part of her chest the V-neck of the hoodie revealed. Slowly, he drew down the zipper, trailing kisses lower and lower until the heat of his breath fanned over her nipple through the thin fabric of her uniform. Just as slow, Shane raised her back up, bringing their bodies together again. Crystal ran her hands over his chest and stomach, but what she most needed was to feel him, skin on skin. Pulling back from their kiss, she tugged at the hem of his shirt, silently asking for permission. “Anything you want,” he whispered, taking her belly and her heart on a loop-the-loop.

Man, I just loved writing these two! *grins* Did you have a favorite line? Thanks for reading! ~Laura

“Edgy, sexy, and full of suspense! 
A great read from a great new author!” ~J.R. Ward on Hard As It Gets

 About Hard As You Can:

Five dishonored soldiers. Former Special Forces. One last mission. These are the men of Hard Ink. Ever since hard-bodied, drop-dead-charming Shane McCallan strolled into the dance club where Crystal Dean works, he's shown a knack for getting beneath her defenses. For her little sister's sake, Crystal can't get too close. Until her job and Shane's mission intersect, and he reveals talents that go deeper than she could have guessed. Shane would never turn his back on a friend in need, especially a former Special Forces teammate running a dangerous, off-the-books operation. Nor can he walk away from Crystal. The gorgeous waitress is hiding secrets she doesn't want him to uncover. Too bad. He's exactly the man she needs to protect her sister, her life, and her heart. All he has to do is convince her that when something feels this good, you hold on as hard as you can--and never let go.

Read an Extended Excerpt of Book 1, Hard As It Gets Buy Hard As You Can at Amazon | B&N | iTunes | Kobo 

About Laura Kaye:

Laura is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over a dozen books in contemporary and paranormal romance. Growing up, Laura’s large extended family believed in the supernatural, and family lore involving angels, ghosts, and evil-eye curses cemented in Laura a life-long fascination with storytelling and all things paranormal. She lives in Maryland with her husband, two daughters, and cute-but-bad dog, and appreciates her view of the Chesapeake Bay every day.

Website | Blog | Facebook | Hard Ink Puppy FB | Twitter | Newsletter SignUp

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Laura will also be hosting a Facebook party for HARD AS YOU CAN on 2/25 from 12-9pm EST if you want to help spread the word, that’d be great: https://www.facebook.com/events/416084181828110.

Top 5 Reasons Jill Shalvis Thinks Owning a Bookstore would be AWESOME

Top 5 Reasons Jill Shalvis Thinks Owning a Bookstore would be AWESOME 1.Could read every single day. 2.Could read every single day. 3.Could read every single day. 4.Could read every single day. 5.Could read every single day. a Rafflecopter giveaway

Girls' Road Trip Guest Blog by Janet Gurtler: 16 Things Blog Tour

One of the only “girls only” road trips I took was when I was 21. I lived in a Canadian city, Winnipeg, and our closest border “town” was Grand Forks. Not very big, not terribly glamorous, but it was the US of A baby. Something you might not know about Canada, we have lower drinking ages than the States.  But when everyone turned 21, it was kind of coming of age thing to pile people into the car, cross the border and shop and party in the States.

Something else I should mention. I was 21 a long time ago. I was on my own and I was BROKE. Things were different. The US had way more interesting restaurants and shops than Canada back then. Target was a big hairy deal for us Canadians. Even tiny places like Grand Forks seemed kind of fabulous.  We have pretty much the same stores on both sides of the border now. For the most part. But back then, it seemed so different than us.

The other thing the US had. Cheap booze. Cheap cigarettes.  And this was in the day when people smoked everywhere. In shopping malls, in the office, in restaurants and the bars. And yes. Back then, I was a smoker. So it was a big thrill to head across the border and pick up cartons of “cheap smokes.”

I shudder to remember. Anyhow. There we were. 21 year olds. It was the late 80’s.  We had neon clothes. Big hair.  Achy Breaky Heart was our theme song.  Four of us.  Windows open, feet outside. Music blasting. Blowing smoke rings.  Eating sunflower seeds and diet coke.

We thought we were hot stuff.  And we did the kind of crazy things, only the young can get away with. We crashed a couple of Frat House parties. We drank too much, flirted too much, stayed out too late and ate greasy hang over food for breakfast.  Decadence personified.

The good old days.

Displaying Girls Road Trip.docx.

Blog Tour: The Taste of Apples by Katharina Habena Excerpt and a giveaway

The Taste of Apple Seeds Excerpt

Great-aunt Anna died from pneumonia when she was sixteen. They couldn’t cure it because her heart was broken and penicillin hadn’t yet been invented. It happened late one July afternoon. Anna’s younger sister, Bertha, ran howling into the garden and saw that with Anna’s rattling, dying breath all the red currants in the garden had turned white. It was a large garden; the scores of old currant bushes groaned under the heavy weight of the fruit. They should have been picked long before, but when Anna fell ill nobody gave a thought to the berries. My grandmother often told me this story, because it was she who had discovered the currants in mourning. Since that time there had only ever been black currants and white currants in my grandmother’s garden, and every attempt to plant a red bush had failed—only white berries would grow on the stems. But nobody minded: the white ones tasted almost as sweet as the red, when you juiced them they didn’t ruin your apron, and the jelly they made had a mysteriously pale translucent shimmer. “Preserved tears,” my grandmother called it. The shelves in her cellar still housed jars of all sizes with the currant jelly from 1981, a summer particularly rich in tears, Rosmarie’s final one. Once when my mother was looking for some pickled cucumbers she came across a jar from 1945: the first postwar tears. She donated it to the windmill association, and when I asked her why on earth she was giving away Granny’s wonderful jelly to a local museum she said that those tears were too bitter. My grandmother Bertha Lünschen, née Deelwater, died long after Great-Aunt Anna, but for many years she hadn’t known who her sister was, what her own name was, or whether it was winter or summer. She had forgotten what shoes, wool, or spoons were for. Over a decade she cast off her memories with the same fidgety ease with which she plucked at the short white locks of hair at the nape of her neck or swept invisible crumbs from the table. I had a clearer recollection of the noise the hard, dry skin of her hand made on the wooden kitchen table than of the features of her face. Also of the way her ringed fingers always closed tightly around the invisible crumbs, as if trying to catch the shadows of her spirit drifting by; but maybe Bertha just wanted to cover the floor with crumbs, or feed the sparrows that in early summer loved taking dust baths in the garden and were forever uprooting the radishes. The table she later had in the care home was plastic, and her hand fell silent. Before her memory went completely, Bertha remembered us in her will. My mother, Christa, inherited the land, Aunt Inga the stocks and shares, Aunt Harriet the money. I, the final descendant, inherited the house. The jewelry and furniture, the linen and the silver were to be divided up between my mother and aunts. Bertha’s will was as clear as springwater—and just as sobering. The stocks and shares were not particularly valuable, nobody except cows wanted to live on the pasture of the north German lowlands, there wasn’t much money left, and the house was old.


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THE TASTE OF APPLE SEEDS is available now at Amazon | B&N | iTunes | IndieBound

Interview with Holly Schindler, author of The Junction of Sunshine and Lucky

 Facebook: facebook.com/HollySchindlerAuthor 

1. How different was writing a middle grade book from writing young adult books?

 In some respects, writing a middle grade is very similar to writing a YA—they both hinge on really knowing your main character and getting a handle on their voice. The pacing was a bit different, though—a middle grade novel is a full twenty thousand (or more) words shorter than a YA. You choose different situations to include in a middle grade— complications you throw at your character are different, too. That’s not to say you can’t deal with tough issues in MG—you absolutely can. In THE JUNCTION OF SUNSHINE AND LUCKY, we deal with issues of poverty and even eminent domain. But every issue that’s introduced to an MG character has to be solved by that character. It’s not the child’s adventure or journey anymore if the adults in her life suddenly swoop in and save the day.

 2. Do you see yourself writing more middle grade books in the future?

Absolutely. Auggie may very well be my favorite character of all time. But to a great extent, her sweetness and the way she looks at the world is possible because of her young age. I also think MG readers and characters are all in the midst of really figuring themselves out—what they love, what their passions are, what they’re good at. I’d love to spend more time with characters who are that age.

3. If you could pick any song as the theme song, what song would you choose and why?

 At the beginning of the book, Auggie’s out to find her own special talent or “shine.” So the very first song that comes to mind is “This Little Light of Mine.”

4. Are there any authors that you’ve had a fangirl moment after meeting them?

I have those moments every time I meet a new author I admire—even if that meeting occurs online rather than in person. I enjoy meeting authors so much, I became the administrator of two group author blogs: Smack Dab in the Middle for MG authors: smack-dab-in-the-middle.blogspot.com, and YA Outside the Lines for YA authors: yaoutsidethelines.blogspot.com.

5. What made you want to write a middle grade novel and was there someone or something that inspired the book?

I love writing in multiple genres—my first YA was a literary problem novel, my second YA a romance. THE JUNCTION is my first contemporary MG, and my next YA is a psychological thriller. Part of the reason I love writing is that I never know where a new book will lead me. Each book turns out to be its own unique world. THE JUNCTION comes, in part, from the years I spent attending antique auctions—especially farm auctions. I attended those auctions with my folks when I was little, and now I attend them with my brother (an antiques dealer). I love those one-of-a-kind antiques that show up at farm auctions: benches made from old barn wood, dolls made from feed sacks, lampshades made from old galvanized buckets. To a great extent, the idea of writing about folk artists came from those years of attending farm auctions!

Book Description:


“Beasts of the Southern Wild” meets Because of Winn Dixie in this inspiring story of hope. Auggie Jones lives with her grandpa Gus, a trash hauler, in a poor part of town. So when her wealthy classmate’s father starts the House Beautification Committee, it’s homes like Auggie’s that are deemed “in violation.” But Auggie is determined to prove that there’s more to her—and to her house—than meets the eye. What starts out as a home renovation project quickly becomes much more as Auggie and her grandpa discover a talent they never knew they had—and redefine a whole town’s perception of beauty, one recycled sculpture at a time. Holly Schindler’s feel-good story about the power one voice can have will inspire readers to speak from their hearts.

Reviews:

 "...a heartwarming and uplifting story...[that] shines...with vibrant themes of community, self- empowerment and artistic vision delivered with a satisfying verve." – Kirkus Reviews

 "Axioms like 'One man's trash is another man's treasure' and 'Beauty is in the eye of the beholder' come gracefully to life in Schindler's tale about the value of hard work and the power of community…Auggie's enthusiasm and unbridled creativity are infectious, and likeminded readers will envy her creative partnership with [her grandfather] Gus." – Publishers Weekly

Links:

Twitter: @holly_schindler


Author site: hollyschindler.com

Site for young readers: Holly Schindler’s Middles - hollyschindlermiddles.weebly.com.

 I’m especially excited about this site. I adored getting to interact with the YA readership online— usually through Twitter or FB. But I had to create a site where I could interact with the MG readership. I’m devoting a page on the site to reviews from young readers themselves! Be sure to send your young reader’s review through the Contact Me page.

THE JUNCTION OF SUNSHINE AND LUCKY Trailer:



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 Bring on the Books: http://bringonthebooks.blogspot.com/