IndieWritersReview Welcomes Dark Genesis The Darkling Trilogy Book 1 D. Koboah! (Bewitching Book Tours!) Excerpt Feature




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Dark Genesis

The Darkling Trilogy                                                                                         

Book 1

  1. D. Koboah

Genre: Historical Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Twenty Four Publishing

ISBN: 978-0957300309


Number of pages: 278

Word Count: 90,414

Cover Artist:

Book Description:

Life for a female slave is one of hardship and unspeakable sorrow, something Luna knows only too well. But not even she could have foreseen the terror that would befall her one sultry Mississippi evening in the summer of 1807.

On her way back from a visit to see the African woman, a witch who has the herbs Luna needs to rid her of her abusive master’s child, she attracts the attention of a deadly being that lusts for blood. Forcibly removed from everything she knows by this tormented otherworldly creature, she is sure she will be dead by sunrise.

Dark Genesis is a love story set against the savage world of slavery in which a young woman who has been dehumanized by its horrors finds the courage to love, and in doing so, reclaims her humanity.

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There were rare moments when the full horror of a female slave’s life fell on me and I felt that now when I glanced up at the woods and the path I would take back to the house. An all-encompassing despair rocked me from head to toe. I didn’t want to go back to a life of bondage. I didn’t want to go back to my quarters and drink the evil concoction which would hunt down and kill the innocent in my womb. I didn’t want to go back to a life where I saw evil practiced with ease and nonchalance, a life in which evens my body was not mine to own.

Master John had been away for the past week but when I got back to my cabin tonight and fell asleep, would I find myself jolted awake by him, his form looming over me in the pale light of the moon streaming through the open window, his male tool already awake and straining against the cotton of his trousers?

The mere thought caused me to double over with my arms wrapped around my waist, my face close to the water and the rocks beneath its surface.

The cause of most of my problems lay in the face that was almost lost in the watery surface now that the light was gone. I reached my hand into the stream and pulled out a large black rock. It looked as if it had split in two and the split end was as sharp as the blade of a knife. I held that rock up above my face and thought about Mama Akosua being brought to a strange land against her will at the age of fifteen. I thought about how lost and frightened she must have felt being so far from everything she knew and loved, and the strength and fearlessness she displayed when she took a blade to her own face and cut those marks into her skin. In doing so, she had honored and held onto the customs of her people, people she would never see again. Those scars that I had previously been repulsed by and seen as part of the savage ways of her past, had given her strength. They had been a way to take ownership of at least one part of her body and keep it forever hers.

I would do the same thing. I would take control of at least one aspect of my life and destroy the face that drew men like Master John to me like predators to the scent of fresh blood. I would use this rock to take away the pleasure he found in looking at this face and keep him out of my bed forever.

I brought the sharpest point of the rock down to rest in the middle of my forehead and closed my eyes. I began to apply pressure until I felt it break the skin, a point no bigger than the tip of my fingernail, and felt a warm release of blood. Strangely, I felt no pain, only exhilaration that I could finally do something to stop the terror inflicted on me by my Master.

I was about to bring the rock down my forehead, across my nose and down my cheek, when something, some force, stayed my hand. All at once I grew cold and it felt as if the air around my wrist was alive and humming softly in tune to some sinister beat, making goose bumps spring up along my forearm.

I pushed down with all my might but miraculously this force increased and when I felt my hand begin to move away from my face, I opened my eyes.

I was still facing the woods and for a moment I thought I saw something amongst the trees, a sliver of something that was an almost translucent white. At the same moment I experienced a wave of dizziness that made me feel as if my mind and body had turned to water. I quickly shut my eyes but the dizziness increased and I felt myself swaying, my thoughts and emotions a confusing melee, and I heard a voice in my head. Or was it my own voice?

That will not stop him, it said.

My eyes snapped open when I heard a sharp crack to my right. I whirled around to trace the sound, a sharp streak of fear leaping and twisting within me. It was only when I noticed that my hand was now empty and clenched into a fist that I realized that what I had heard was the sound of the rock I had just been holding hitting one of the trees on my right. The distance to that tree was a good seven or eight meters away. Had I really thrown it that far?

I got to my feet uneasily, knowing that I needed to get away from the chapel immediately. Something was very wrong here. The light was nearly gone now and there was something here with me. I could feel it now, an immense power unfolding and drawing strength as the last of the light seeped out of the sky.

Terror beat furiously within me, radiating to my very core. Mama Akosua had been right. I shouldn’t have come here. I was in danger, I…

Intoxicating dizziness washed over me again and although I tried to fight against its pull it drew me in, causing me to close my eyes and sway in time to its suffocating rhythm…

And then I was standing at the kitchen door of the main house, having walked through the woods from the chapel and back to the house with no memory of the journey.



About the Author:

a fun plus 102

I am the author of The Darkling Trilogy, an unconventional and epic love story between a vampire and a slave girl. The trilogy was inspired by my thoughts on dehumanization.

I was fascinated by the ways in which people are able to dehumanize others, the impact it has on the psyche and whether it is possible for people to find their way back from being dehumanized.

This led me to a slave called Luna and the ruins of a haunted chapel deep in the heart of Mississippi.







Bewitching book tours




IndieWritersReview Welcomes The Noru (Book1: Blue Rose) By Lola StVil (Bewitching Books Virtual Tour)

a fun plus 101

The Noru: Blue Rose

Book One

Lola StVil

Genre: YA Fantasy


Number of pages: 397

Word Count:  73,062

Cover Artist: Renu

Book Description: 

“After speaking to the other angels on the team, I hang up my cell and sigh. No one’s heard from Aaden in months. This bothers me not only as the leader but as his girl–well if I was his girl–which I’m not. 
Great. Now on top of being grounded, I’m sitting here acting girly and needy. Argh!!!

Screw this! I start to head downstairs to plead my case to my parents again, when something out the window catches my eye. I lean in closer to get a good look. What I see astounds me: soundlessly and without hesitation, the humans line up and jump off the roof one at a time…”

PLEASE NOTE: This book contains a scene in chapter 12 that is for mature audiences only. Readers can skip this chapter without missing any info vital to the plot. 

Available Free at Amazon   

Also Available at iTunes   Nook   Kobo




“That didn’t look like nothing, Pryor. He’s terrified. You were Binding him,” my dad accuses.

“A little,” I admit, avoiding eye contact.

“You could have killed him,” she says.

“I wasn’t going to hurt Principal Walsh. I just wanted him to shut up. He was going on about conforming to the status quo, and frankly that’s unacceptable behavior for an educator. I was doing humanity a favor by rendering him silent.”



About the Author:

a fun plus 102

Lola was seven when she first came to this country from Port-au-Prince, Haiti. She attended Columbia College in Chicago, where her main focus was creative writing. In addition to plays, she also writes screenplays and short stories.

She has been commissioned to write for ABC, CBS and Princeton University. She won the NAACP award for her play “The Bones of Lesser Men”. In addition to being nominated for LA Weekly awards. Her work has also received positive reviews from The LA Times, Variety and LA Weekly.

Twitter @guardiansgirl

Instagram @authorlolastvil



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Tour giveaway 

5 WINNERS will get a free copy of THE NORU: BOOK 2: THE LAST AKON  Click To Enter



Bewitching book tours

IndieWritersReview’s Spotlight! Runaway (Camryn Cruise #1) by Brina Courtney RELEASE DAY BLITZ!



Runaway (Camryn Cruise #1) by Brina Courtney



Camryn Cruise is not human. But she doesn’t know what she is. Not yet.

The world is falling apart and her only escape is Camp Silverlake where she frequently stayed as a child. But Camryn’s summers weren’t filled with crafting and swimming, they were spent learning combat skills and how to protect herself from the outside world.

Now she must return to Camp Silverlake to learn the truth, about who she is and she’ll discover the secret hidden within her blood. A secret that could save them all.


The Cryptid Chronicles Set!


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Brina Courtney is a young adult author obsessed with chocolate, crime shows, and fantasy movies. She’s spent the last few years as an elementary teacher and a high school cheering coach. She lives in a small town in Pennsylvania with her husband and two very loud, small dogs.





Amazon Author Page:

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IndieWritersReview’s Music Monday Spotlight! Folk/IndiePop Band: The Ultimate BearHug!

Happy Monday All! Well guys it’s Monday so that means music! Today I’m throwing the spotlight on the Folk/Indie Pop Band The Ultimate BearHug! This talented duo’s music has been featured on ABC’s Private Practice, MTV’s The Real World and the CW’s Supernatural and Life Unexpected  and recently on one of my favorite show’s Nextflix’s Original Hemlock Grove!


Please check it out below! All info taken from BMI Indie Spotlight


a fun plus 101



Chances are you’ve heard the music of Doll Knight and Barrett Johnson (collectively known as The Ultimate Bearhug); their songs have been featured on shows including ABC’s Private Practice, MTV’s The Real World and the CW’s Supernatural andLife Unexpected. Drawing comparisons to Billie Holiday and Madeleine Peyroux, The Ultimate Bearhug was born after a chance encounter between the two singer-songwriters at a Southern California loft party in late 2010. Johnson remembers: “That same night we almost completed a full song and knew we couldn’t stop there.” With encouragement from local songwriters, the duo spent most of 2011 patiently writing and gigging consistently at Hotel Cafe in Los Angeles. The result is their debut full-length album, Just South of Los Angeles , a work that bridges the gap between timeless folk and indie pop. And if you’re wondering about the band’s name, it’s simply a reference to Knight and Johnson’s hope that their music “will hug you.”



IndieWritersReview: Brand New Episode of Writer’s Life: Writer’s Block Blues!

Brand New Episode: Writer’s Life (Writer’s Block Blues)

Michelle decides to break the nasty Writer’s Block Blues!

Writer's Block Blues

IndieWritersReview’s Spotlight of Naliya by Shauna Kelley (Excerpt and Giveaway!) Paranormal Craving Virtual Tour


Naliyah by Shauna Kelley

Publication: Create Space
Genres: Paranormal YA

Lenora Scheid can tell you much of human nature. After more than a century of traveling from warzone to warzone, she has experienced more than she can handle of mankind’s thirst for blood and power…she cannot, however, tell you what she is.

Not exactly human, but not precisely vampire either, Lenora’s whole life has been spent under the watchful eye of her father. With only her dreams of a mysterious blue‐eyed man as company, she has little choice but to follow her father across the world despite his refusal to help her understand her true nature.

As Lenora reaches the end of her tolerance with their life of travel and death, she comes face to face with her blue‐eyed man and everything changes. Can this man save her from a life of brutality? Or will the secrets kept from her for so long destroy them both?

“Highly imaginative, captivating, and rich in characters and story… a must read.”
–Tia Bach, author of The Tala Prophecies


What does it mean for mankind that, in the one hundred years of wandering that followed our time in Africa, I was never hungry again? From the Ivory Coast, we sailed north, moving through Egypt on foot or horse.

“You should see Cairo,” my father had said, “and Giza, where our people helped to design the great pyramids.”

“We’ve been around that long?” I asked.

“Longer,” he said.

Having just fed, we were able to walk the dessert in the daylight, and marvel at the wonders of man long dead. However, after just a few days of the beating sun, I began to understand father’s warning that this would make us hungry faster. I began to eye our guides, kind honest men, longingly. At the end of each day, my skin took on a purplish tint and I could hear each and every beat of each and every heart around me.

From Egypt, it was onto another ship, through the Red Sea and the Arabian. We reached India and found no shortage of the dying in Bombay, where poverty plagued the city as brutally as any war could. The plague had ravaged the population, leaving it with a broken and defeated feeling. In darker corners, bodies still lined the street.

“Just be careful,” father warned as we moved through alleys full of moaning and desperate people. “The blood of the dead becomes poisonous to us the instant they die.”

“But the plague in their blood will not hurt us?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “It might make us feel a bit sluggish, but still better than not feeding at all.”

During the days in Bombay, we slept in downy beds in a hotel that was inexplicably cool amidst the sweltering heat. We awoke at dusk, often travelling to some temple or other architectural wonder that my father wanted me to see.

I found both the trip and the city dissonant and confusing. There were amazing and beautiful things to see if only I could not see the poverty and desperation that surrounded them. Whereas Baltimore had been loud but with sounds of those happy and thriving, Bombay was a cacophony of struggle. I tried to talk to my father about these observations, but he waved them off as though I was simply a silly girl thinking silly thoughts.

“Let us go to the market,” he declared one day.

I followed obediently, my eyes fixed to the ground. Soon however, we arrived at a bright and happy bizarre that lifted my spirits instantly. I wandered through a myriad of stalls of beaded shoes, spices that smelled so strong they made my head ache, and beautiful cloths.

“Pretty lady,” one older gentleman called to me perfect English through a mouth that contained almost no teeth, “come here and see my pretty things.”

I glanced around for my father, who was a few stalls back speaking intently to an older man. Deciding he wouldn’t even notice my absence, I moved towards the toothless man.

His stall was full of fabrics of all colors. He had silks of deep turquoise, stunning purple, and vivid orange that seemed to beg for my touch. They are all richly embroidered and stunningly beautiful.

“A pretty lady needs pretty things,” the toothless man declared, picking up a bright yellow shawl and wrapping it around my shoulders. It was covered in a pattern of sunbursts, and made me feel instantly cheerful.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, feeling a bit of wonder at being called a lady. Only a few months prior, I had been just a girl. My father’s predictions about my aging had proven correct, and I had already advanced to looking like a young teenager.

“You should buy it, pretty lady,” the man said.

Suddenly, my father appeared behind me. “She should have one,” he agreed, “but not that one.” He reached beyond the man and picked out a deep blue shawl, covered with stars. “This one,” he declared, handing the man an exorbitant sum of money.

“Yes, sir,” the man declared, wide-eyed over the money in his palm. “Thank you sir.”

I wrapped myself in my shawl, saddened by the loss of the sunny yellow one, and followed my father out of the stall.

“You gave him so much money,” I said.

“Yes,” he agreed.

“How do we always have so much money?” I asked.

“From various places,” he said. “When you’ve been alive as long as I have, you can wait for investments to pay off.”

“But what investments?” I persisted.

“Lenora, you shouldn’t ask me about money, just know that we have it and leave it at that.”

I fell silent, following him out of the market. A growing unease was settling across me, though I could not quite name its source.

“We are leaving soon,” my father said after a moment, leading me down a darkened street that was far from our hotel.

“Have we fed enough for another sea journey?” I asked.

“We’re about to,” he said.

I glanced around, but found no bodies on the ground in this part of the city. However, a murmuring behind me filled me with dread. Father and I both turned and found a group of perhaps eight men waiting for us at the mouth of the street. They instantly began shouting at my father in Hindi.

“What are they saying?” I asked.

“They are demanding I give them my money,” he said. The men advanced on us.

“Are you going to?” I asked.

“No,” he said, instead giving me a knife.

As the men attacked, we stabbed and slashed until they were on the ground. My beautiful blue shawl was torn and covered with blood by the time we began to feed.

Once full, we moved back towards the hotel.

“You showed off your money in the market because you knew they would follow,” I said.

“Yes,” he said.

“But why them? You’ve said we eat the dying and they were alive,” I said.

“There are many forms of dying,” he said. “Had we not killed them today, most of those men would have starved to death or died of malaria within the next year. This city has more people than it can support, and men like them add violence to the mix.”

“But how can we be sure?” I said. “Perhaps one of them would have left this place and become a doctor and done good in the world.”

“The chances of that are very small,” he said. “And you have just learned a lesson.”

“And what lesson is that?”

“That a healthy man can be a dying man, too.”



Shauna Kelley lives near Baltimore, Maryland with her husband and beloved mutts. Dedicated aunt, adventurous baker, and action movie fanatic, she spends her days writing, teaching, and crocheting.

Kelley’s first novel, Max and Menna, was a ForeWord Magazine Book of the Year Award finalist for Young Adult Fiction in 2010. Naliyah is her third novel. Kelley delights in the opportunity to interact with readers. Find her online at

Contact Links





IndieWritersReview’s Spotlight on Hidden Worlds Collection Pre-Order Now!

Pre-order now for .99 cents!
*Expected release date November 3, 2014
Pre-order links:Amazon | Amazon UK | iBooks | Kobo
Snag twenty of today’s hottest authors at one low price for a limited time! 
*Purchased individually, these books cost over $20!*
Enter the hidden worlds of humans who shift to beasts, perilous enchantments and stars uncounted. Awaken in secret laboratories or walk among gods. Multi-genres are represented making this set a must-read for every book-lover!
Appropriate for ages 13+:
Devour by Shelly Crane
Inescapable by Amy A. Bartol
The Forgotten Ones by Laura Howard
Elsker by ST Bende
History of Fire by Alexia Purdy
Everblue by Brenda Pandos
Guardians: The Girl by Lola St. Vil
The Gatekeeper’s Sons by Eva Pohler
From Gods by Mary Ting
Appropriate for ages 16+ due to language, sexual situations, and violence:
First by Alyssa Rose Ivy
Darkness in Light by Stacey Marie Brown
Lark by Erica Cope
Catalyst by Jennifer Snyder
Promise by Kristie Cook
Redemption by RK Ryals
Return of the Ascendant by Raine Thomas
A Matter of Fate by Heather Lyons
Runes by Ednah Walters
Freak of Nature by Julia Crane
River’s Recruit by Charlotte Abel

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