The big Cover Reveal for Traxx!

It's here, cover reveal day and I am so excited! Creating the Traxx cover was unlike any cover I've designed or commissioned before. Traxx is not a story that fits nicely in a box and I wanted to be brave and let the cover show the uniqueness, the societal changes and the sense of movement, but I also wanted to keep it minimalist. Since the Traxx way of life is also dominated by a concept called Back to Basics, and their propaganda produced by the government smacks of nostalgia, and going back to a simpler time, I wanted that idea to be reflected in the cover. I spent hours coming over book covers and posters from the 1950's and took the simple color palette from that era and style. It's all very Mad Men you know:) Also, pay attention to that symbol in the middle. It's important and will reappear often in the series. 

Traxx book 1 will be available to read in Kindle, Nook, Itunes, and Kobo on December 1st, so grab your copy and check out this truly unique Dystopian story. And, now that I've told you the why behind the design, here it is...

   I hope you all like it, and don't forget to stop back soon. I'll be giving away books and holding a contest very soon!

-Angela

Can a setting be a character?

Hi all! December is barrelling toward us too fast! And in December I will releasing Traxx, book 1. Today, I want to tell you a little about the setting for Traxx because it is truly unique!

The Traxx society blossomed in what was the United States following a world-wide pandemic. There are lots of post-pandemic books out there, but I wanted to do something different, to avoid the typical repressive regime that we often see in Dystopian novels. The result, families and individuals living in homes hooked to track, relocating every eight weeks to a new place.

In short, a society with no foundation, literally.

 
The other big thing about the Traxx society that is unique is Back to Basics. It's a philosophy they live by. This means no phones, no internet, and no social media of any kind.

Crazy huh? Now here are some of the upsides; crime is rare. Racism is disappearing because every eight weeks, you relocate to new community and start over. Education is available to everyone, Medical help is always close by and won't bankrupt you.

And how did all these earth shattering changes come about after the Pandemic? The new Government of course, The Benevolent Eleven, led by the visionary Jonathon Flint. But more on him later.



So the answer to the question can a setting be a character is absolutely, yes, and in the case of Traxx, I think it is.


If this story is interesting to you, let me know. I'm giving away five copies in the month of November before it is available to buy on Amazon! Thanks for dropping by. Come back soon, because the next post should be the big cover reveal! Bye for now.

 

Meet the mastermind

The next few months on my blog is going to be mostly about my upcoming book and the start of the Traxx series. I'm super excited to introduce you the characters of this far-reaching tale. Traxx is a totally different take on a post-pandemic society, one that I hope will leave you thinking about what the country of Aritrea gained with a new way of life, but also what its people lost when they gave up their foundations and freedom.

Let's get started. Today I want to introduce you to Jonathon Flint, the mastermind and initial architect of the Back to Basics concept and the Traxx lifestyle. In the book Traxx, the setting is as much as character as the people, but we'll save more on that for later. The first thing you need to know about Jonathon Flint is that his father is a brilliant virologist and immunologist and even at the age of sixteen years old, Jonathon was in college following in his father's footsteps. His mother is a socialite, practically married more to her social media than to Jonathon's father. His mother and father have a profound affect on Jonathon's thought processes and he soon develops a hatred of social media and is drawn to the power of science.

When the story of Traxx begins, Jonathon is in his early eighties and one of Eleven leaders who rule Aritrea, along with his lifelong friend Levi Cantrell. Don't be fooled by his age, Jonathon is a character carved by tragedy, and a warped view of the world and those who should lead. He's a powerful man who values the same self-control that he expects of his people. And, he has a lover, a fellow leader that he has nurtured along for generations.

What do you say about Jonathon Flint? He's the guy that changes the world, but is it for the better? He thinks of himself as a savior. Meet him officially on December 1st when Traxx, book 1 launches and see what you think for yourself.

The Date is Set!

It's been a long time coming. What am I talking about? A new series I've been working on for years. Literally. The name of the series, Traxx, and I'd like to introduce you to the world of Traxx amd tell you that Book 1 in the series will be published in Early December! I'm so excited to share this phenomenal story with you. You might find Traxx to be a cautionary tale of what happens when desperation leads us take whatever leadership is presented to us. You might find that you love the way the citizen live on the Traxx system and you wish we could live like them.




In the next few weeks, I'll be introducing the characters, and stories that will bring into the world of Traxx, and give you a peek into the lives of Jetta Banks and Montana Tanner, two people brought together that will change the course of the history in the country of Aritrea. For now, here is a symbol that represents a major change in the way people lived in Aritrea. Try and guess what you think it means.

Stay tuned....so much more is coming. Until then, I hope you all are doing well. I love my readers!

An occasional book review

Hi all! Every once in awhile if I read a book that impresses me, I'll post a book review. The author community is full of the nicest people and we love to help each other out. But I only write a review if I feel like the work is professional and can be enjoyed by other people. And your are up for a little sweet romance, I have a book you might like.

So on to that book review. If you are a fan of Regency Romance I'd like to tell you about. Sally Britton. Her book was called Discovering Grace. 

 Such a pretty cover! This is a story of twin sisters who are quite different from one another. One is brash and prefers adventure and drama while is the other is content with a quiet life and prefers to work in the back ground. Through a series of events, the sister who loves nothing more than being home in her comfortable surroundings is commanded by her father to go on a year long voyage overseas with some family friends. While the one who yearns for adventure is forced to stay home in their sleepy but close-knit community. In defiance, the girls decide to trick their father and switch places. Once the adventurous twin is gone, the setting is perfect for Grace(the quiet one) to discover many things about herself while acting like her sister. And most importantly, the timing is right for a love that never could've happened while her sister Hope was living at home. The pacing on this story felt just right, and the romance had gentle build up until each character saw things as they should be. This was my first time reading Ms. Britton's work and I was impressed with the professionalism of her writing and her ability to paint  a picture with words. If you enjoy a good romance, you might enjoy Discovering Grace. Apparently, there is also a second book in the series about her sisters adventures overseas. I'll have to get my hands on that one:) 

As for me...back to writing. I'm working hard on the second book in my Kiss Series. Book 1, Five Days Five Kisses has been doing really well. 

Now that Nikola's story is published. It's time to tell the world about Liberty and her accidental brush with love. Book 2, Five Kisses One Problem, coming right up. Well as soon as I can anyway. 

I hope you all have a great week. Tell someone they are love today. They might need it<3

-Angela
Spinner of Tales

I am not dead (in case you wondered why I haven't written in so long)

Life has a way of getting away from us. Blogs are no different. Honestly, I don't like writing on my blog just to stay in your face. I want to say something that matters, at least to me. And for the last, well, at least year, I haven't been putting my energy into writing.


Oh don't misunderstand. I love to write and am planning on publishing this year(More to come about that later), but from June of last year to June of this year, my time was consumed with something entirely different.


You see, as part of my faith, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day saints, we all take turns sharing responsibility for the needs of our congregation. Some jobs, or callings as we refer to them in the church, are relatively small and not as time consuming. Others, like the calling I was given last year, was lots of responsibility and time. Basically, I was responsible to care for and know the needs of all the women in my congregation. This job is called being the Relief Society President, and it was a remarkable, and really tough experience. In fact, I wrote down many of my experiences in a book I'm calling of Succulents and Sisters. Typically, I don't write about religious content, but it was such a unique experience that I wanted to record the stories. Also, I learned to love, love, love growing succulents.


I'm not sure if I will ever publish the book, but wanted to share with you, my readers and friends, a peek into the book, so I'm going to publish the first chapter on my blog tonight. Those of you who are of my faith might understand a little more, but those of you who are not but have ever felt overwhelmed by something, will appreciate it too. I'll also throw up some pics of my succulent creations.
And, in my next post, I'll get you guys all caught up on what I'm writing now. Here's the first chapter to Of Succulents and Sisters

Chapter 1 

A Reality Check

 I sit in my dining room looking around. Two large windows and a sliding glass door frame the space painted a soothing shade of pale blue. Lining both windowsills are small black plastic containers, and in the containers, fragile plants grow. Some are as small as a child’s fingernail, while others have grown up a few inches, stretching out toward the light with their thin stems and miniature leaves.  Then, beneath the windowsills low metal shelves are filled to the edges with larger, decorative ceramic containers growing succulents in groups of threes. Some of my favorite containers are tea pots and oversized mugs in blue or red. Each container is unique from the salsa dish to the distressed wooden boat. All from local thrift stores, picked out painstakingly one at a time. Beyond the sliding glass door, I see out onto my covered patio. The Arizona heat licks at the corners of the cement but the sturdy stucco overhang protects more of my handiwork. Succulents. Lots of succulents in containers, clustered on tables and most of all on a set of rolling metal shelves, in rain gutters, capped off and turned planters by my dear husband. I stare, noting that over the course of a year, I’d gathered every variation of succulents that I could get my hands on. Aloe Vera, Jade Plant, Burro’s tail cascading over the edge of a small white pot, and rose-like Echeveria growing next to Hen and Chick plants just to name a few. And beyond the patio, there are a few more succulent creations. Collections I put together just to enjoy out in my yard, tucked under trees and in cooler corners where the hot Arizona sun can’t burn them.  

                                 

It’s one of those moments, where you stop long enough to look at your life and see how something so small has grown, flourished… and then taken over. And, in this moment, I pose a question to myself, how did this happen?

The answer was easy. It all started on the night that my Bishop (we’ll call him Bishop X) wanted to drop by.

                                                       

Now you all know that a Bishop doesn’t just “drop by” especially when your ward has just been split and lots of callings need to be filled. This was the state of my ward, and I knew my Bishop was coming on the Lord’s errand that fateful night. The only mystery was what would he ask me to do? Nursery? That comes with a built-in snack. Primary? Those wild things were always fun to teach. Maybe gospel doctrine? A girl could dream, since it was my favorite calling. No. The Lord had a different plan, and as Bishop sat on the large leather sectional in my family room, explaining his thoughts, I realized things were about to go sideways in my world.

Let me take a second to say that I do not envy the Bishop. He is the messenger and we all know the old saying about the messenger getting shot, or something like that. Either way, Bishop X was in the line of fire.  

So, Bishop X launched into a story about how he’d been to the temple a few months before the ward boundaries had been changed, praying about several callings. At that time, he was not praying about the calling I was about to be extended. As he sat in the reverence of that holy house, he received a clear impression that I was to be called as a Relief Society President. At this point, Bishop X knew a ward split was coming. We all did. We’d completely outgrown our building and new families were moving in every week. With that in mind, it made no sense to change the relief society president, so Bishop X filed away this particular inspiration in whatever place Bishops tuck away things to deal with later. Let me state that while he is telling me this story, his face shows his unmasked surprise at the inspiration he’d received. Wide eyes, body leaning forward, hands open and lifted. I could practically hear his thoughts at the time he was receiving this prompting.

Sister Carling? Are you sure Lord?

After all, Bishop X lived down the street from me. He’d seen me teach gospel doctrine and knew I was a little out of the box in my approach to teaching, and well everything.

Anyway, Bishop X continued his story. After the ward split and new boundaries were drawn, he’d gone back to the temple with another list of names to pray about for the calling of Relief Society President and was told again that I was the person that should be called. Again, he wore a shocked expression.  Shocked didn’t begin to describe my feelings which had whipped themselves into a panicked frenzy in a matter of minutes, and now were rising in my throat like suffocating panic. You see, I’ve dealt with clinical depression since my early thirties which has morphed into some fairly intense anxiety and depression in the last few years. And, in the last six months, I had just gotten it under control. This entailed cutting way back on publishing new books and simplifying my life to a manageable pace. Like so many others, I was learning to live with an ailment that no can see, but in the last few months, I’d found a moment of balance and peace.

Soon the overwhelming emotions reached my eyes and I began to cry, which is unusual for me. I’m not the cry-at-the-drop-of-a- hat-kind-of-girl. There can be an entire room of weeping sisters, and I’d be the one with dry eyes.

At the same time Bishop X’s entire demeanor sagged, and the bewildered look he’d worn earlier turned to a look of uncertainty. My mind was filled with a torrent of chaotic and fearful thoughts. My heart raced and finally, I couldn’t take the overwhelming barrage of emotions anymore.

“Bishop,” I said. “You’re upsetting me. You need to go home.”                                                                                      

My husband, who has been in bishoprics before visibly cringed, probably thinking of our poor Bishop just trying to do his job.

As Bishop X walked to the front door, I trailed behind him.

“You don’t understand.” I said. “I just got my anxiety under control.”

Tears falling.

“I don’t do anything halfway.” I rambled. My husband followed me, so now we look like little ducklings following the leader.   

“I was raised by my father! His idea of décor was stereo wires pinned to the wall for better reception.”

More tears.  

“I don’t even like most women.”

At the door, Bishop slipped out without me saying the one thing he needed to hear, that I would accept the calling, or not. I’ve envisioned since that time, the Bishop going home and telling his wife that they may need to move because there was a crazy person living on their street. By the next day, I was still wracked with fear, but I mustered my faith and contacted the Bishop. I would do my best, I told him. Mostly, I was thinking that I would try not to break the church by being in a position of so much responsibility, or inadvertently hurt the women by my own ineptitude. As it had been from the moment the Bishop extended the calling, unquenchable tension riddled my body and I began the process of figuring out how I was going to survive what lay ahead.

 

A New Release!

The Nameless Soldier is book 4 in the Annals of Alasia young adult fantasy series. Haven't read all (or any) of the others? That's okay! The books can be read in any order, and each one can stand on its own.

Description:

What do you do when you’re the only survivor?

Nineteen-year-old Tarvic bears the name of a mighty hero from Alasia’s past. However, the young soldier feels anything but heroic when he regains consciousness to find himself the lone survivor of a brutal attack by invaders from the neighboring kingdom. 

Forced to leave his identity behind, Tarvic is thrust into civilian life in the role of protector to three war orphans. When the four of them encounter a mysterious stranger, he must choose between keeping the young girls safe and taking on a mission that could help free his kingdom. Can Tarvic live up to his noble name and find a way to balance his duty and his dreams?

Where to Get a Copy:

Click here to buy the ebook or paperback from Amazon. (The ebook is $2.99 just $0.99 through June 6th!)

Not sure if you'll like the story or not? Take a look at the first chapter and see!

The Nameless Soldier

Chapter One

      

Tarvic woke to the sound of a distant yell, abruptly silenced. He pushed his blankets aside and sat up, puzzled, but heard only the light patter of rain on the canvas. “What was that?”

Drevel, his roommate in the barracks and tentmate out on campaigns like this, stirred and rolled over. “What?”

“I heard something. Someone shouting.”

“It’s probably just another drill.” But Drevel sat up too, shoving his own blankets away, as Tarvic crawled over and untied the tent flap.

A blast of wintry air and raindrops greeted him as he leaned out, peering across the tent-studded hillside. Clouds hid the moon and stars, and on every side the thick dark of the forest leaned in from the edges of the large clearing. But the telltale flickering light of distant torches sent shadows leaping over tents and across the open spaces between them. Why would someone be using torches out here? Any soldier in camp had easy access to lanterns among the supplies.

Something was wrong. Very wrong. Tarvic pulled back into the tent and yanked on his breeches and jacket.

They both heard the next yell, closer this time, and then the unmistakable clash of swords. Both men snatched up their own swords, jamming their feet into their boots and fumbling for shields. From all around them, shouts of alarm erupted as men in their company woke up.

And then the enemy was upon them. Horses exploded through the camp, trampling tents and the soldiers just crawling out of them. Riders leaned low off their mounts’ backs, swinging swords and waving torches.

Halfway out of his tent, Tarvic threw himself flat on his face to avoid a slash that would probably have decapitated him. He scrambled to his feet, only to be knocked off them again by a blow that he barely caught on his shield.

Light, shadows, horses, blades, rain. Chaos raged through the clearing to the sound of crashing metal, pounding hooves, shouts of challenge and desperation. Tarvic regained his feet and fought as best he could from the ground while enemy riders thundered around him. Dodging and ducking, he aimed for the men’s legs and tried to keep out from under their horses’ hooves. With no idea who he was fighting or why, his only goal to stay alive for the next heartbeat, he dodged and darted through the tumult looking for spots where horses and enemy swords weren’t. All around him, men fought and ran and crumpled to lie as limply as the trampled tents.

Slipping and stumbling in the mud, Tarvic felt a surge of satisfaction as his sword met flesh and an enemy yelled in pain. And then the man wheeled his horse and charged back toward him, and Tarvic turned to flee.

He tripped on something soft that groaned. Pain shot through Tarvic’s wrist as he caught his fall, and only a quick roll saved him from being trampled as the man’s horse cantered over him.

Its rider wheeled again, and Tarvic rose to his knees, barely raising his shield in time to protect his face. The force of the blow threw him backward, jarring his already sore wrist.

Another horse leaped over him, and Tarvic cried out in pain as a hoof struck him on the shoulder. He stumbled to his feet, ducking low to present as small a target as possible, and ran through the melee.

He saw fewer people on foot now, more obstacles in the mud. Was it cowardly to flee from a battle you couldn’t win? Nothing in Tarvic’s eight months in the military had prepared him for this. Not counting occasional minor border skirmishes, the kingdom of Alasia hadn’t seen an actual war in six generations. Besides routine patrols, city peacekeeping, and the frequent drills and training, the military’s primary duties involved escorting merchant wagons through robber-frequented stretches of rural highway and keeping an eye on the sections of coastline where seafaring raiders were known to attack. Tarvic had never fought in a battle that involved more than a handful of opponents at a time, and none of those opponents had been anywhere near this organized — or this deadly.

If we escape, we can regroup somewhere safer and — A hard blow to the back knocked him to the ground again as another horse pounded over him. Giving up all pretense of courage, Tarvic scrambled to his feet once more and fled for the edge of the clearing and the relative safety of the trees beyond. I can’t do anything here. They’re going to slaughter us all!

He was practically there when another rider appeared in front of him, leaning low with sword outstretched. Tarvic almost impaled himself on the blade, raising his shield just in time. He fought back frantically as the man slashed, swinging his weapon again and again. I need my horse! Military training had included nothing about how to fight a mounted enemy from the ground. But Lightning was tethered in the row of makeshift stalls on the far side of the camp, probably prancing restlessly under his blanket and wondering why his rider didn’t come to spur him into battle.

Tarvic didn’t even see the blow that almost killed him. His ears barely registered the thudding of more galloping hooves from behind, nearly drowned out by the rain and the sounds of battle. But the world exploded in light and pain as something struck the back of his head harder than anything had ever hit him before.

He lurched forward, feeling his sword drop from limp fingers. Managing two steps before his legs buckled, he was just conscious enough to recognize the urgent need to crawl. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Or they’ll kill you out here. That was the only thought left in his mind as he pulled himself toward the concealing shadows behind the line of tree trunks. And then even that faded, giving way to darkness.

Want to know what happens to Tarvic? Click here to purchase the book and find out!

About the Author:

Annie Douglass Lima spent most of her childhood in Kenya and later graduated from Biola University in Southern California. She and her husband Floyd currently live in Taiwan, where she teaches fifth grade at Morrison Academy. She has been writing poetry, short stories, and novels since her childhood, and to date has published seventeen books (four YA action and adventure novels, five fantasies, a puppet script, six anthologies of her students’ poetry, and a Bible verse coloring and activity book). Besides writing, her hobbies include reading (especially fantasy and science fiction), scrapbooking, and international travel.

Email: AnnieDouglassLima@gmail.com

Blog: http://anniedouglasslima.blogspot.com

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