Wednesday, April 20, 2016

Spotlight : The Plot to Save Socrates ( Sierra Waters Book 1) by multi award winning author Paul Levinson

A big hello and welcome to all readers! Today Literary Flairs is immensely excited to feature Dr. Paul Levinson, who is a multi award winning author of popular science fiction and non fiction novels and a well known reviewer in addition to being a renowned Professor of Communication and Media Studies at Fordham University in NYC. Dr. Levinson's acclaimed novel titled The Plot to Save Socrates is the first of a trilogy (a gripping time travel and historical fiction genre) of the mysterious and action packed Sierra Waters series. We'll learn more about Dr. Levinson and his multiple accomplishments in the fascinating world of storytelling and creative writing in today's special spotlight.


Connect with author Paul Levinson


Get to know author Levinson and his works in his profile at Wikipedia, Follow him on Twitter, Connect with him on Goodreads, his Facebook page, Have a look at his personal Author Webpage

About the author : Paul Levinson, PhD, is Professor of Communication & Media Studies at Fordham University in NYC.  His science fiction novels include The Silk Code (winner of Locus Award for Best First Science Fiction Novel of 1999), Borrowed Tides (2001), The Consciousness Plague (2002), The Pixel Eye (2003), The Plot To Save Socrates (2006), Unburning Alexandria (2013), and Chronica (2014)  - the last three of which are also known as the Sierra Waters trilogy, and are historical fiction as well as science fiction. 

His accomplishments : His stories and novels have been nominated for Hugo, Nebula, Sturgeon, Edgar, Prometheus, and Audie Awards. His nonfiction books, including The Soft Edge (1997), Digital McLuhan (1999), Realspace (2003), Cellphone (2004), and New New Media (2009; 2nd edition, 2012),  have been translated into twelve languages.  He appears on CNN, MSNBC, Fox News,  the Discovery Channel, National Geographic, the History Channel, NPR, and numerous TV and radio programs.  His 1972 LP, Twice Upon a Rhyme, was re-issued in 2010.  He was President of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, 1998-2001.  He reviews television in his InfiniteRegress.tv blog, and was listed in The Chronicle of Higher Education's "Top 10 Academic Twitterers" in 2009.

Watch author Levinson's engaging interview on Youtube : Behind the Plot to Save Socrates

Book Spotlight :The Plot to Save Socrates ( Sierra Waters Book 1)


Book : The Plot to Save Socrates

Author : Paul Levinson

Genre : Time Travel, Historical Fiction, Science Fiction

Available worldwide at : US Amazon, UK Amazon and all other Amazon stores 

                
34 reviews so far and counting at Amazon Kindle stores, mostly 5 stars, read here

Achievements : The Plot to Save Socrates on 10 Perfect Summer Reads Authored by NYU Alumni


Book Summary

In the year 2042, Sierra, a young graduate student in Classics, is shown a new dialog of Socrates, recently discovered, in which a time traveler tries to argue that Socrates might escape death by travel to the future! Thomas, the elderly scholar who has shown her the document, disappears, and Sierra immediately begins to track down the provenance of the manuscript with the help of her classical scholar boyfriend, Max. 
The trail leads her to time machines in gentlemen's clubs in London and in New York, and into the past--and to a time traveler from the future, posing as Heron of Alexandria in 150 AD. Complications, mysteries, travels, and time loops proliferate as Sierra tries to discern who is planning to save the greatest philosopher in human history. Fascinating historical characters from Alcibiades to William Henry Appleton, the great nineteenth-century American publisher, to Hypatia and Socrates himself appear.

Chapter Excerpt


[Athens, 2042 AD]

She ripped the paper in half, then ripped the halves, then ripped what was left, again, into bits and pieces of history that could have been....

Sierra Waters had read once that, years ago, it was thought that men made love for the thrill, while women made love for the sense of connection it gave them. Sierra had always done everything for the thrill. She had no sense of connection, except to her work. Which should have made her an ideal person for this job.

Still ... an ideal person would have followed the plan. It was written on the only substance which could survive decades, maybe longer, without batteries, which required only the light of the sun to be read, or the moon on a good night, or a flickering flame when there was no moon. Paper. A marvelous invention. Thin and durable. And she had just torn it into pieces, opened her palm, and given it to the wind to disperse in irreparable directions.

Wednesday, April 6, 2016

Book Spotlight - Women with Wanderlust : A Guide to Roaming by author Melissa D. Jones

Dear friends, today Literary Flairs would like to spotlight an inspirational and motivational travel genre titled Women with Wanderlust : A Guide to Roaming written by the multitalented author and creative entrepreneur Melissa D. Jones.

Do you love traveling, collecting "moments" and would like to get information and tips on solo and budget traveling to various places? Then this is the book for you! The author is passionate about traveling to new destinations (she's been to 40 countries so far!) and has chronicled her adventures and true travel experiences in this very engaging book. Let us know more about Melissa and her travel book in today's special spotlight.


 Connect with author Melissa D. Jones

Follow Melissa on Twitter, visit her Amazon author page, Like her Facebook Page, Contact her on Goodreads

About the author : Melissa D. Jones is a designer, marketer, artist, traveler, photographer, foodie and creative entrepreneur. She runs her own business, extracting inspiration and elements from around the world to help women entrepreneurs and businesses achieve brilliant design. Living for travel, adventure and new experiences she's photographed her way around 40 countries (and counting!) and wrote all her travel knowledge into a book Women with Wanderlust: A Guide to Roaming.
         Learn more about her and her work at roux roamer.

Book Spotlight : Women with Wanderlust ( A guide to Roaming)


Book : Women with Wanderlust ( A guide to Roaming)

Author : Melissa D. Jones

Genre : Non Fiction, Inspirational, Solo Travel, Budget Travel, Women's Travel

Available worldwide Amazon Kindle stores : US Amazon, UK Amazon and in all other Amazon Kindle stores.

Reviews : 15 so far, all 5 stars at Amazon Reviews


Book Summary

Feeling like you can't afford a big adventure or don't know how to plan one? Women with Wanderlust will help you feel confident that you can travel the world with ease on any budget. If you want to travel more for less, read practical tips and out of the box ideas for travel, learn the best way to maximize your free plane ticket, hear some fun stories about solo travel, traveling with a partner or friend, know what to do before you go, overcome travel myths and fears or simply read a travel book from a woman’s perspective.

Chapter Excerpt 

Once (or the thirteenth time, it's hard to remember) my husband and I were on a bus that was running really late. We had a bus to catch at the other end of the bus ride but it didn't seem like we would get there in time. We had booked the "express" bus from Laos to Cambodia. What you don't really know is what that means to them. Apparently in this instance it meant waiting at the border crossing for several hours for another late bus to take their passengers with us and also to pick up and drop off locals along the way. We tried pleading with the bus driver that we had a plane to catch but he did not seem to care. He went along with all his "scheduled" stops as if we were on time.

Once we were in the Phnom Penh, the city we were flying out from, we asked if we could get off. The bus driver said no, even though he was letting off other passengers. He would not let us get off the bus. We were growing more and more impatient that we could not exit the bus and other people could. We picked up all of our bags and waited at the front of the bus until finally he opened the doors and we hopped off. We were in the middle of a city we weren't familiar with and it was night. What did we do?

We had no idea how far the airport was from there or even what direction. We knew that a ride to the airport should have cost no more than a few dollars. We had three. We ran around the corner to the first group of scooters we could find and offered them three dollars to take us to the airport. They discussed it and at first told us no. We persisted and they agreed for the three dollars. We hopped on the back of the bike; three people, two large bags and two smaller bags. That was one time I wished I had a selfie stick. Maybe the only time I ever wished that. Ever. 

We were riding along to what we thought was the airport but we really had no idea. We trusted that we made the right move. A few minutes into the journey and the driver said, "Where are you going again?" I couldn’t believe it but I hadn’t lost hope...yet. I told him every word I could think of for airport, plane and travel. I even showed my plane wings (arms outstretched) as if he could see me behind him. He said, “Ok, ok.” Phew, I thought we’d done it.... or at least I hoped. 

We drove along for another few minutes and he said he couldn’t take us all the way to the airport because the gates were closed. Now, this is surprising, as I didn't think that we could communicate a few minutes ago. I told him to just get as close as he could. We pulled up just outside the terminal. We paid him, thanked him and ran off to the terminal.
If at some point you don’t ask yourself, ‘What have I gotten myself into?’ then you’re not doing it right. — Roland Gau
We entered the airport and it looked closed. They were sweeping, mopping and moving all the signage around. We ran up to the counter and asked if we could still make our flight. They didn't look like they understood at first but then we gave them all our info and they said that we could probably still make it. It felt like an eternity to get our boarding passes and run through security but we did indeed make our flight. 

We now have this great Amazing Race story of how we had no idea what we were doing but we figured it out. We just went on hope and intuition. Sometimes that's all you have when you don't know the language or the city.

Monday, April 4, 2016

Book Spotlight : The Witches of Panay (YA Fantasy) by author Malika Gandhi

Hello friends! Literary Flairs presents yet another interesting, highly imaginative and a magical fantasy novel in the making, with a free chapter excerpt for you to read. The book titled The Witches of Panay is an upcoming new release (slated for May end), and is also the first of its series. It is written by the very talented author and illustrator Malika Gandhi. We'll learn more about her and the book in today's special feature.



                                                                                   

Connect with author Malika Gandhi

Connect with the author on Twitterher Facebook page, Connect with her on LinkedIn

From the author's desk : Malika Gandhi (known as Fayr Willow for her The Witches of Panay series) was born in India, Bombay, but was brought up in London. She is married with two boys, and works as an author in her spare time, whilst working full time elsewhere. Malika Gandhi has written three books to date under her own name, all have been published on Amazon.

Book Spotlight - The Witches of Panay


Book : The Witches of Panay

Author : Malika Gandhi

Genre : Young Adult Fantasy, Literary Fiction

Trivia : "I have a new release coming up at the end of May called The Witches of Panay. The genre is Fantasy. This is my first YA Fantasy book which will be a series. PS: The work magickal is intentionally spelt that way." Author Malika Gandhi

Book Summary
 
 I was a normal girl, went to school, stayed out of trouble, and did my homework. I hung around with my best friend, Chantelle, and worked part-time at my Mama's floristry. My life on Earth was as normal as anyone’s could be, other than my being a witch. Nothing exciting ever happened. That was, not until the day Jake arrived. Then, slowly everything changed. Now, I find myself entering Magickal realms, talking to animals, and encountering monsters that I thought were just myths. I am told I am the Chosen One. I have a job to do. I have to save the Earth.


Chapter excerpt 


The boat began to rock. Rita, Chantelle and I screamed. Shimmering pearl-like hands appeared on the sides of the boat and then heads appeared out of the water. The Merpeople were too close.
They were beautiful, as Evaliyah had said. Their faces were angelic-like and radiance glowed from their very being. I was instantly mesmerised and I felt a magnet-like tug from them for me to join them.
“Get away from here!” Evaliyah growled at them, taking a shovel he had stowed on the base of the boat. He waved it in their faces, warning them. “Get away now, you filthy murderers!”
The Mermaids squealed and dove back under the dark water from Evaliyah’s threat, whilst the Mermen remained on the surface, but moved back a couple feet. There was one that looked like a King, for he wore a crown on top of his head and held an ornate spear in one hand. He had gold and silver markings painted on his face that shone from a glowing green strobe that he and every other Mer-person was holding.
“We will do no harm to you. All we want is the girl Larissa and the Crystal. We will leave the rest of you,” said the Mer-chief.
“You can’t have her!”replied Mathalae. “She is not yours to take! Go away and leave us!”
“The girl has been called for. We have our orders to take her to our Queen,” said another Merman.
“Who is this queen you speak of?” asked Evaliyah. “What does your queen want from Larissa? She is but a normal witch and nothing else. Go and tell her, she will not have Larissa. We will not give her to you!”
“The Dark Queen will not agree,” said the Merman. “We shall take her!”
“She is your queen?” asked Jake, incredulously.
“The Dark Queen is an acquaintance to the Queen to the Merpeople, who has made a deal to deliver the girl and the Crystal to her,” said a Merman.
“No!” I shouted. “I will not go to her!”
My sudden outburst sent flames into the sky from my upturned palms. I felt the magick inside me scream, as fireballs landed on the water’s surface, but did not die out from the moisture. They instead joined together and spread fast, forming circles around the Merpeople and a barrier between us.
The Mer-Chief shouted something intangible and large water bubbles rose from the dark water. They were magickal! The bubbles quickly dispersed the enchanted fire, leaving only wisps of smoke where the fire was once.
I was shoved back into the tent covering with force when a spear shot towards me. It was blocked instantly by one of Rita’s shields, and redirected back towards the Mermaid who threw it. The Mermaid laughed, which ironically sounded like musical bells, but was deadly. The sound turned into a high-pitched wail that burrowed into my ears. I covered them with my gloves, but the sound just got louder. 
I could also hear the fight outside the tent clearly. The sound of the clapping water was tremendous as arrows and magick joined together in this small, but powerful war of Witches against Merpeople. I had to go out and help. After all, they were fighting to save me from those wretched creatures! I stood up and went to leave the tent covering, ready to use some spells I was taught by Beskine and Janet. I wouldn’t let my friends fight this alone! Chantelle and Jake had left the tent area to help too. No, I was not going to sit inside and let them sacrifice themselves for me! Putting all my energy and power into my magickal blood, I stomped outside.
“No Larissa!” Mathalae stopped me. “You must stay inside. It is you and the Crystal they want. Let us protect you. Get back inside, now!”
“But, Mathalae, I must help! I can’t just sit inside. I am not a coward!” I yelled. I pushed past him and stationed myself at the foot of the dragon’s head of the stern.
“This spell should scare them off!” I removed my gloves and focussed all of my energy. I summoned the power to push them back down in the murky depths of this black water. At first, a little glow appeared on my palm and then it disappeared.
“Larissa, look out!” shouted Jake as a net came hurtling towards me. I cascaded it away with a single thought and it fell back onto one of the Mermaids.
She shrieked something, in her native tongue and white hands appeared around her sides. They grabbed my ankles and pulled me into the water, swimming as fast as she could with me, to get me closer to the others and away from my ship. 




Wednesday, March 30, 2016

Spotlight : Flight of Destiny by author Francis H. Powell

A big hello to everyone visiting Literary Flairs! Today's special feature showcases a collection of 22 intriguing short stories of the science fiction, dystopian and literary fiction genres by the award-winning storyteller and artist Francis H. Powell. The stories promise to take interested readers into a completely different world of unexpected endings and dynamic possibilities. We'll learn more about this special spotlight today.
















Francis H. Powell


                                                                                                                     Flight of Destiny

 Connect with Author Francis H. Powell
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Book Spotlight - Flight of Destiny


Book title : Flight of Destiny

Author : Francis H. Powell

Genre : Science fiction, short stories collection, dystopian, literary fiction

Book ISBNs -- ISBN-10 : 0988664097 and ISBN-13 : 978-0988664098



Achievements : Winner of compilations/anthologies - Flight of Destiny by Francis H. Powell at the 2016 Pacific Rim Book Festival

Trivia : "I also illustrated each short story and designed the front cover, as well as doing the music for the book trailer ". Francis H. Powell  

Book Summary  

My first published book is a collection of 22 short stories about misfortune characterized by unexpected final twists at the end of each tale. "With 'Flight of Destiny', I want the reader to squirm at the behavior of some undeniably despicable characters, be charmed by their wit under duress, and be totally drawn into the harrowing world of the oppressed, all while savoring these dark, surrealist stories," says Powell. "'Into this anthology, I have injected my vast accumulation of angst and blended in my warped sense of humor."
 From the author's desk 
What better way to put all my angst into short stories. Born in a commuter belt city called Reading and like many a middle or upper class child of such times I was shunted off to an all-male boarding school aged eight, away from my parents for periods of up to twelve weeks at a time, until I was 17. While at my first Art college through a friend I met a writer called Rupert Thomson, who was at the time in the process of writing his first book “Dreams of leaving”. He was a bit older than myself, me being fresh out of school, but his personality and wit resonated, despite losing contact with him. 
I had a stint living in Austria,  where I began writing.  It wasn’t until I moved to Paris, that my writing began to truly evolve.  I discovered a  magazine called  Rat Mort (dead rat) I sent off a short story, in the hope it would match the seemingly dark world the magazine seemed to embroiled in. I got no answer. Not put off I sent two more stories. Finally I got an answer. It seemed the magazine editor was a busy man, a man prone to travelling. It seemed my first story really hit the right note with him. His name was Alan Clark.  I began writing more and more short stories, some published on the internet. A bit later my anthology Flight of Destiny slowly evolved,  published April 2015, by Savant publishing.
________________________________________________________________

 Chapter excerpt

MUTANT 

Louisa Cranston was slowly becoming aware that something wasn't right. First and foremost, she was rocking gently, submerged in saline fluid in some kind of large container, her body awash with strange, unnatural sensations. She had plenty of oxygen to breathe. Attached to her skin were various monitor leads, that she supposed were tracking her heart beat and blood pressure. Beneath the sound of the sloshing water, she could make out a secondary sound: the rumble of an engine. From this, she concluded she was being transported to some unknown destination.

Louisa flexed her fingers and felt with their tips the smoothly rounded casing surrounding her. Her thoughts were hazy. Her mind kept meandering from one indistinct memory to another, suggesting to her that she had been heavily sedated. Worse, as the drugs slowly wore off, the throbbing pain below her waist steadily increased until her lower half felt as though it had been stung by an enormous wasp. 

An abrupt thud jolted her further into consciousness, and she suddenly recalled being involved in a terrible road accident. The driver had shouted something as the car hurtled off the road. There had been a loud crash. Yes, she remembered that. They had smashed into a tree, and she had somehow survived, despite her legs being crushed beyond recognition. The driver had not been so lucky and had died. Things were beginning to get clearer. The driver was not her husband; he was her illicit lover.

Her husband, Crawford, was a world-renowned surgeon. His private passion was ichthyology, but it is true to say he was a man of eclectic and diverse interests. In his fledgling scientific career, he'd held a defamatory view of art, as it conflicted with his natural predilection towards logic and order. Then one day, he caught sight of a pickled shark in a display cabinet at a business associate's art gallery, awakening within him something new and wondrous. 

If before he had been a man of things purely scientific, he was now a man with an eye for the world of the eclectic and absurd. Having acquired a sizable fortune, investing in art seemed a logical next step for a man of his standing. But it was the unusual, the bizarre, that attracted his artistic attention, and into which he decided to pour his time and money. This left him little time for his wife, Louisa, who he pointedly excluded from his two great passions.

They'd married when she was still a young student. He'd been invited to give a lecture at her medical school, and she had been blinded by the enormity of his intellect and rapidly-growing fame. If indeed she'd ever really loved him, at least her admiration for him had never flagged.

The much-heralded Professor Crawford Cranston made it clear immediately before their marriage that he didn't want any children getting in the way of his career. Apart from being authoritative, her husband was intolerably possessive, while at the same time showing little interest in fulfilling her physical needs. He'd recently built a research institute, aptly named after him, on the confines of his estate, and was fast becoming reclusive, to the point of maintaining only a small select circle of moneyed friends with similarly bizarre interests.

Further developments on the estate included building his own personal art gallery in the spacious basement of his mansion, boldly claiming that the works he was collecting would push the boundaries of both art and science further than they had ever gone before. Louisa, left more and more alone to herself, had fallen for one of Crawford's less acclaimed assistants, who'd taken the time to show her a modicum of attention, something which her cold-fish husband had never done. She and her lover carefully chose the places and times for their trysts, their lovemaking stoked by the ever-present risk of discovery.

Unfortunately for them, on the day of the accident they'd both been careless. Somehow, Crawford had found out, and, filled with jealous rage, he'd taken action. Tampering with the steering and brakes of her car being beneath him; he instructed a lackey to perform the
deed. That was probably what her lover had been trying to convey in his last words, she thought. Yes, it was all coming back. Upon being informed by the local hospital of the accident, as well as the death of the driver and the hopelessness of his wife's injuries, Crawford insisted she be placed under his care. 

Rather than being mortified by extent of his wife's injuries, an exciting new idea germinated in his mind. As soon as her condition allowed, he had her transferred to an exclusive private hospital to further stabilize in strict seclusion. The hospital wing, operating theater, and passage from her room to the operating theater were cordoned off. Immediately after what proved a lengthy, but apparently successful operation, Louisa, still heavily sedated, was prepared for a covert transfer elsewhere.

The sound of wheels crunching on gravel momentarily distracted her thoughts. She seemed to have finally arrived at wherever they were taking her. She heard vehicle doors open, and the indistinct sound of human voices. Then she felt the container she was inside slowly sliding out of the vehicle. A moment later she felt the capsule being delicately hoisted and carried by several men the way the way pallbearers might carry a coffin. Shortly, her bearers' footsteps stopped their crunching on gravel and began clacking on marble, creating echoes inside a large building. Suddenly she began to hear familiar sounds.

She could just make out the chime of a grandfather clock, one she knew well. She could even make out the distinctive sound of two dogs sniffing, panting urgently, following on either side of her container. They were her dogs, Bachus and Griffin, she was certain. She was, she felt certain, in Cranston Hall. The tank stopped sloshing. She could hear muffled instructions being given the tank bearers in the brusque manner her husband commonly used when talking to underlings. 

A moment later the sloshing rebegan. This time she felt her capsule being carried down stairs. If she was indeed back at Cranston Hall, she couldn't fathom why she would be taken downstairs to the basement. Her husband had always made a point of keeping her away. The tank soon leveled out, the entourage came to an abrupt halt, and the container was lowered with a decided "thunk" onto the stone floor.

The black cloth covering the tank that had been making sight impossible, was unceremoniously pulled off, the brightness of the lightshining on her causing her to blink rapidly and look away. She felt a lurch as the transparent capsule within which she was contained was attached to a winch, which, moments later raised the capsule, leaving her suspended upright, totally naked. Her long golden hair, falling loosely about her chest, covered her breasts from the view of the circle of men gathered in attendance about her.

Terrified, she followed their line of gaze and arched her head downwards until the full horror of her husband’s deed hit her with devastating force. Her husband, the greatest surgeon in the world, had discarded her pulverized lower limbs and grafted on what looked like the tail of a fish. To reaffirm her new situation, he'd even preserved the decapitated fish head and placed it on display for her to see. The gruesome remains glared up at her with a pained expression. The shock was too much, and she passed out.

Upon regaining consciousness, she found her husband, Crawford, standing before the capsule admiring his work, the ultimate synthesis of surgery, science and art. He was taking pleasure in pointing out the details of his outstanding work to his entourage, which had now swelled in numbers, consisting of businessmen who’d paid huge sums to be present at the unveiling. All sick voyeurs, mouths hanging open, eyes agog, they nodded perfunctorily at each point. All peered incredulously at the half-woman, half-fish before them, Crawford's most outlandish accomplishment yet. 

During the course of their ritualistic homage to her husband, Louisa again lost consciousness. When she woke this time, she found herself in new surroundings: She was encased in a spacious rectangular plexiglass container, her body resting lengthwise on an elevated shelf-like dias with a huge white scalloped shell behind. Misting water slowly cascaded from above onto her lower half and, from there, into a pool below the dias just large enough for her to slip into and swim a few strokes. Whether resting on the dias or swimming, the enclosure showcased her new body for anyone present to see.

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Collage - Top picks from HALL OF FAME - treat for book lovers

A big hello to everyone ! Today Literary Flairs brings forth top book features (selected from a great bunch of books featured here) spot...