Take a Bite out of First Fruits with Amanda Carney

Happy Writer Wednesday!

I'm happy to welcome author Amanda Carney back to the blog. I'm raising my glass and cheering for her as she has just released her first two novels: Cheers, Amanda! Enjoy that special feeling of a new book baby birthed into the world.

And Amanda is generously offering a free ebook to my readers (see the Rafflecopter at the end of the post). Learn more about Amanda and her fabulous new novels and don't forget to enter the Rafflectoper for your chance to win First Fruits:

Writing First Fruits and Second Coming 

By Amanda Carney

I’m so excited to have finally released my adult paranormal romance novels, First Fruits and Second Coming! These books have been in the makings for a long, long, time, so having them out there in the world is a really magical feeling. When I began First Fruits, it was just that—First Fruits. There was no Second Coming. But throughout the years, the novel underwent so many revisions by not only me, but by my amazing beta readers and dedicated editor, that it evolved into something that couldn’t be contained by only one novel. But long before I ever contemplated hiring an editor or even knew what a beta reader was, it was just me and my laptop in a camper. When inspiration for the novels struck, my husband and I were traveling with his work, so my days were spent wandering the campground with my dog and my nights hunched over my keyboard, whittling vampires and fairies into being with each tap of my fingers. So the story not only grew with me over the course of five years, but it also journeyed from state to state, the words rolling and bumping along just like our tires. We’re back home now, putting down roots once again, and First Fruits and Second Coming have finally ripened on their vines and are ready for harvest. It overwhelms and blesses me daily to know they’re filling people’s heads with visions of romance, treachery, and, of course, fangs.

About First Fruits:

Reading minds can be dangerous. 

Parsley Walker can hear people’s thoughts and it’s made her a target. As a natural born telepath who’s also telekinetic—two things that can be disturbingly lucrative in the wrong person’s hands—she’s learned to hide who she is. To be always moving and never at ease. To run from that inevitable moment of discovery. She’s a nomad in a waitress’s uniform. This is how she survives. 

Until him. 

Jesse Linwood is a vampire with a problem. An automaton with sharp teeth, he was sent to evaluate and ultimately abduct her. What he doesn’t expect is the way her blue eyes turn him inside out. Stalking her wasn’t supposed to make him feel anything. She was supposed be like all the others. He begins to unravel and, in the end, makes the choice to pick a fight he knows he cannot win in order to save her life. 

*PG-13 for erotic scenes and graphic violence.

Purchase First Fruits on Amazon:

First Fruits - Kindle edition by Amanda Carney, Keith Morrill, Emily Horn. Paranormal Romance Kindle eBooks @ Amazon.com.

About Second Coming:

There is no sanctuary without him. 

At last, she has it all. Everything she thought she’d never have. Acceptance. Friendship. Love. Parsley Walker is finally home. Allswell, the magical refuge for supernaturals, is all she’d imagined and more. She’s making friends. Learning not to hide her telepathic and telekinetic abilities. Learning not to fear. And most importantly, planning a future free from that ever present sense of foreboding with the vampire she loves. Her life, the life she was always meant for, is about to begin. 

Then she gets the letter that turns her new world upside down. 

Jesse Linwood has just done the hardest thing he’s ever had to do—turned his back on the only girl he’s ever loved. With Parsley safe in Allswell and believing he’s dead, Jesse returns to his sire, Patrick—the ancient, wicked vampire who lusts for Parsley’s blood—to convince him she’s somewhere he’ll never be able to find her. To eliminate the threat to her once and for all, even at the expense of Jesse’s own life. Because love isn’t about the heart. Love is about the soul and how much of it you’re willing to lose.

*PG-13 for erotic scenes and graphic violence

Purchase Second Coming on Amazon:

Second Coming (First Fruits Book 2) - Kindle edition by Amanda Carney, Keith Morrill, Emily Horn. Romance Kindle eBooks @ Amazon.com

Amanda Carney grew up barefoot and freckle-faced in the beautiful hills and valleys of rural Ohio. She resides there still with her husband, loyal old dog, and menagerie of beloved cats. When she’s not writing, you can find her with a book in one hand and a crochet hook in the other. Follow her on Twitter @MandyLovesWords or on Facebook for updates on new releases, appearances, contests, and more.

Stay in Touch with Amanda:

Amanda Carney (@MandyLovesWords) Twitter

Amanda Carney FB

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October Ghost Stories: "Pie" by Amanda Carney

I've got another eerie ghost story for you today by my guest, author Amanda Carney. Check out this spooky short story and make sure you check out Amanda's great cover and info for her new book, First Fruits.

I stared up at the crooked, faded sign. “You sure this is the place?”

Trina shrugged. “Says Delacourt’s Pumpkin Patch. Gotta be it.”

I eyed the overgrown weeds and skinny-branched trees lining the neglected drive and considered leaving. Surely the farmer’s market pumpkins would make good pies, too?

But I didn’t want to make a good pie. I wanted to make a spectacular pie.

An award winning pie. One that would bring home the blue ribbon in the Apple Creek Harvest Festival’s pie contest. At seventeen, I’d be the youngest winner in the event’s history. Something I wanted so badly I could taste it. No pun intended.

“Why are we taking advice from your biggest competitor again?” Trina asked.

I gave her a look. “Norma is my grandma’s best friend. I trust her.”

Was my grandma’s best friend. I swallowed the lump in my throat. Norma was the reigning champion ten years running, but she’d known me since I was a baby, and she’d been there for me after my grandma’s death. She was rooting for me. And I had a good chance, too. I had my grandma’s secret heirloom pumpkin pie recipe and a burning desire to win the two-thousand-dollar grand prize.

Trina looked unconvinced. “You could always try getting a loan for the bakery. Maybe if your mom and dad co-signed.”

I pulled down the driveway. “I want to do it on my own.”

My grandma had built her seamstress business by working hard and saving. I’d do the same. The prize money combined with what she’d left me in her will would buy the bakery of my dreams. I smiled as I pictured the quaint, brick building with its glass front and blue awning. My smile dissipated as I also pictured the “For Sale” sign in the window. Eventually someone would buy it. I just hoped it was me.

The estate came into view as we approached. It was a great, sprawling thing that’d seen better years. The once-grand porch roof sagged. The many windows were dark and ominous. Ivy crept up the sides like a spiky, green plague. I shivered as I turned the car off. “Doubt the grass has been mowed in this century,” I murmured.

Trina nodded. “Straight out of a scary movie.”

As we got out, I squinted in the late afternoon sun. “Where do we go?”

“There.” Trina pointed to what looked like a greenhouse off to the right.

As we neared it, we discovered it was in equally poor repair. Sections of the bluish glass panels were cracked and missing altogether in some places. Vines grew rampant up the sides, obscuring the already dirty windows. I stared up at the soaring, arched double doors with their rusted iron filigree work, reminding myself that it was for the pie.

“Let’s do this,” I said and pushed open the doors with an incredibly loud creak.

And nearly collided with the man waiting on the other side.

Trina and I froze, startled. He looked like a dusty relic. Wispy white hair. Frayed and tattered butler’s suit. Scuffed shoes. Sunken, pale face. Yet his posture was ramrod straight and the set of his nose imperious. He bent slightly at the waist. “Welcome to Delacourt’s.”

We both took an involuntary step back. “We’re . . . here to buy some pumpkins,” I managed.

“Of course you are.” His smile was yellow and gappy. He gestured with a flourish of his arm. “Do come in.”

I exchanged a tense look with Trina as we stepped past him. When the heavy doors closed behind us with a jarring clank, we both jumped.

And then I saw the pumpkins.

Neat rows of them lined the weedy floor of the arboretum, their skins shiny and orange in the muted light. They were the most beautiful pumpkins I’d ever seen. No blemishes. Uniform roundness. Magazine quality.

If it wasn’t for the plastic tubes, much like a hospital patient’s IV line, connected to each one. Like some kind of . . . feeding system. Only it wasn’t liquid fertilizer being pumped into them.

It was blood.

Trina squeaked and grabbed my hand as we stumbled backwards—right into the chest of the creepy old man.

We froze in unison. He leaned in and spoke in our ears, his voice skittering across my skin like cockroaches. “You wouldn’t believe how thirsty they are.”

As his iron fingers clamped down on our shoulders, our screams echoed off the grimy glass walls of the greenhouse.

Amanda Carney

Amanda Carney grew up barefoot and freckle-faced in the beautiful hills and valleys of rural Ohio. She resides there still with her husband, loyal old dog, and menagerie of beloved cats. When she’s not writing, you can find her with a book in one hand and a crochet hook in the other. Follow her on Twitter and Facebook for updates on new releases, appearances, contests, and more. 

You can connect with Amanda here:

Facebook

Twitter

Blog

Amanda, congratulations on the release of your new book, First Fruits! Awesome cover :-) Here's the pitch for this new adult paranormal romance:

She ran from her past--now she's running from her future. 

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