As I mentioned in my other most recent winners announcements — I am trying to get caught up as quickly as possible on almost a year’s worth of belated contest winner announcements. I blame mostly wedding-planning and related activities.
More contest winners are coming up for you now, though … keep reading after the jump!
In honor of the release of Poison by Bridget Zinn, we asked you to write the beginnings of your own fantasy story. The winner will receive a copy of Poison. And that winner is: Gwendolyn Michelle Davis
There was a snarl. There was a shadow just out of her sight. It appeared in her peripheral vision but disappeared if she looked directly at the wall, a nasty brick wall that lined the alley way.
She tapped the pointed toe of her heeled, black boot on the pavement. She looked at the street sign at the corner. Never Street was just noticeable in the dim light. The faded sign above the big, wooden door behind her read Blue Moon. She sighed, pulling her jean jacket tighter around her shoulders. She had lived through the 80s and it just so happened to be one of her favorite decades, so yes, she wore a jean jacket. When she was feeling exceedingly nostalgic, she even covered it with buttons, horrible sayings, silly pictures, anything she could find thrown haphazardly in one of the drawers of her armoire at home. It was a unique family heirloom. Drawers appeared and disappeared, depending on what she needed.
Arian leaned against the old wooden door behind her. The business was thriving inside but she hesitated, lurking on the outskirts of the spell-enchanted haze that often times beckoned to people. Blue Moon happened to be one of the most desired establishments along the Carolina coast, if you were of the appropriate clientele.
It was not decorated with tables and chairs like most restaurants. It had big, comfortable chairs. Each wall had a softly glowing fireplace that always seemed to create the perfect temperature, even in the heat of summer. The walls were covered with darkened wood, the shelves lined with books of every size.
The books, one in particular, was the reason she now stood out here in the cold instead of inside the warm and seductive atmosphere that was calling to her. Her dark eyes lingered on the brick wall again.
Arian was different. Her mother had been a vampire, and her father had been a warlock. She could only cast the simplest of spells, and yet she was not defined by the blood hunger either. She had the alertness of her mother, the speed of a hunter that never failed to down her prey. She also had the creativity of her father, the intelligence that had saved her life more than once.
Patience had never been one of her known qualities, and she tossed her head back, her long dark curls catching the breeze before settling against her back. The many bracelets she wore on her left arm jingled slightly as she stalked across the alley. “Hell fire,” she hissed, “What could it possibly be? A werewolf? I’m not afraid.”
The jingling echoed briefly off the brick wall as Arian walked right through it, the moon hiding behind the clouds just as the last curl of her hair disappeared into nothingness.
For this contest, we asked you to tell us your favorite fairy tale character. One lucky winner gets a copy of the book and an original piece of art from the book signed by the illustrator. The winner is: Jessica Smith, who said her favorite fairy tale character is “Cinderella.”
Half Lives by Sara Grant – Blog Tour Contest
For this contest, we chose two winners at random, who will each receive a copy of Half Lives by Sara Grant, courtesy of Little Brown. The winners are:
To celebrate the paperback launch of Precious Blood by Tonya Hurley (originally released in hardback as The Blessed), we offered up two copies of the book – thanks to Simon & Schuster. The winners are:
To celebrate our May Book of the Month, The Program, we asked you to write a story about life after losing your memories. The winner will receive a copy of The Program. That winner is: Stephanie Parke
They come at me from all sides, pulling at me, expecting everything. I guess maybe they are expecting me to at least recognize them. I know what they want but I just can’t, they have made it impossible for me. They have stolen my identity, all my memoires and now they expect me to be me, even though that girl is gone, or mostly gone.
Sometimes I see flashes of things, things I shouldn’t remember. The flashes scare the crap out of me because they haunt me like ghosts. They flit in and out of my peripheral vision, smoky specters that tease me with reminders of the life that was stolen from me.
No one believes me when I try to tell them about these memories, these strangers I don’t remember who share my eyes. No one wants to believe that their perfect system had failed; no one wants to admit it.
I can’t stop thinking about the reason for these flashes, all I can think about is how the power went out when they were killing the person I used to be. I screamed for them to stop but it didn’t matter what I wanted. They threw the switch and I struggled uselessly as the electric began to glow in the wires attached to my head and the pain began. I screamed and I began to fade away. Then as if guided by the hand of god, everything went out and there was silence and darkness and I began to hope for a reprieve. But then the lights came back on and I disappeared.
Maybe they missed some of me? Is it possible that in those moments the power failed that some of me escaped? Sometimes I can almost catch a fleeting memory, like a bright firefly in the dark but then it is gone. It hurts when the memories disappear; it’s almost like losing myself all over again.
The woman who has told me she is my mother looks at me constantly when she doesn’t think I’m looking. I can tell she wants me to remember her, have some connection with her, but it’s simply gone as if it had never been. For me it hasn’t.
They tell me it was for my own good and I can tell they believe it, or at least they want to. I want to hate them but somehow I can’t. Whatever helps them sleep at night I guess. At least they don’t have to deal with the ghost of me.
Thanks to everyone who has been entering our contests — and to all for staying patient with me as I try to balance work, life AND wedding planning along with my blogging duties. I’m working on catching up … I’m getting there!