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Clifton Chase and the Arrow of Light Tour

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Clifton Chase Series, Book 1
Juvenile Fantasy Thriller
Publisher: INtense Publications
Date Published: 4/11/2020
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There were plenty of other middle schoolers it could’ve chosen. Six-hundred and eighty-six, if you didn’t count Clifton. The Arrow of Light appeared in his closet then whisked him away to a far-off land, where a dwarf and magical bird led him to two princes. He returned their arrow that he had somehow found and went home to his normal life. But the Arrow of Light had other plans. When Clifton found out that the king locked the princes in Drofflic Tower, he knew he must return to the past to protect the future. Enlisting the help of many mythical creatures and the princes’ own sister, he managed to find the reason the Arrow of Light chose him. But magic can be wrong. And history longs to be told.

Clifton Chase and the Arrow of Light tablet

EXCERPT 1:

Chapter One 

The Boy and the Arrow


The thought that this was a brainless thing to do hadn’t crossed his mind until now. He fumbled to fit his bow, his fingers like gelatin, as classmates lined up beside him in Wickham Park. The rest of the seventh graders gathered around to see who would win the bet between Clifton Chase and the new kid, Ryan Rivales. The instructor counted down the seconds from his stopwatch, and Clifton swiveled around to see if a certain pair of green eyes watched him. Yup. Even Ava Harrington had come to see. 

“Ready…” the instructor said. 

As sweat stung his eyes, Clifton remembered why he’d taken the bet. It was this arrow. He’d found it mysteriously in his closet, and then it lit up for a split second. At least he thought it had. It seemed so otherworldly at the time, and when Ryan started in on him, the only thing he could think to do was show that kid up.

“Take aim…” the instructor continued. 

Now he wasn’t sure.

He pulled the notched arrow back. He had one chance, a single-shot test for precision, straight to the bullseye or whoever came the closest. Ryan wagered his sleek emerald green binary compound bow, but they both knew this bet was not about the antique arrow or the slick bow. It was for bragging rights, for pecking order.

For making it through middle school as king.

“Loose!”

On command, arrows arced through the air, landing on the targets or the wooden posts they were nailed to. Some struck the 3D molded deer, which now resembled a porcupine. A few arrows passed their marks altogether, landing out of sight in the tall grasses of the hilly sand dunes. ‘The Hinterland’ as it had been nicknamed. And that’s where Clifton’s arrow went. 

“Archers….Halt!” the instructor shouted. “The range is now cold. You may retrieve your arrows.”

Clifton lifted his backpack and stepped onto the range with the others.

“What happened?” Ava asked. “You usually have perfect aim.” 

Clifton’s hands went clammy whenever she came around. It hand’t always been that way, just recently. “Yeah well, I guess that crappy arrow wasn’t as good as Ryan thought it was.” 

“Why’d you make that bet with him? Didn’t you say you found that thing in your garage or something?”

“My closet, actually.” Sunlight brightened her eyes and he stared a moment longer than he’d meant to. 

“Well, it seems weird for you. I don’t get it.”

“There’s not much to get, Ava,”

“Except my arrow,” said Ryan as he neared them. “Nice shot, by the way.” He snickered, and the few kids who’d tagged behind him laughed. 

“Wasn’t my fault,” Clifton said. “I’d never shot it before.”

“Doesn’t matter now. I won the bet. My arrow didn’t even need to land near the bull’s eye, just on the target.” 

More laughter erupted, and Clifton turned away.

Ryan shoved him. “Where you going, Chase?”

Clifton did a one-eighty. “Going to get that worthless arrow you won. Must feel good to know your shot beat an antique.”

Ryan’s smile dropped. “My shot,” he said in a clipped tone, “beat your shot. Now go find my arrow and hand it over.” 

Clifton’s hands balled into fists as he left the circle to reach the edge of The Hinterland. Ava followed. 

“I can’t believe what a jerk that guy is,” Clifton said. “Can you believe how epic he thinks he is? Like he’s the greatest archer of all times…Robin Hood Rivales.

Ava’s hands perched on her hips. “You’re the one that tried convincing him your arrow was something special, when you knew it wasn’t. Seems like maybe Ryan’s not the one being the jerk. See you later, Clifton.”

Clifton lowered his head, defeated. He’d lost the arrow, lost the compound bow, lost his dignity, and Ava thought he was a jerk. Now, he had to trudge through The Hinterland looking for the ridiculous arrow that started it all. He swore under his breath and headed up the dune. 

Across the way, Juan Sanchez, another victim of inaccuracy, scanned the brush facedown like Clifton. He was about to suggest they join forces when something sunk through his sock into his ankle. Sandspurs. He’d run through a whole patch and took a few minutes to pick them off, which hurt his fingers as much as his ankles. As he avoided a red ant pile, he almost tripped on a root that jutted up like a step. 

And still, he hadn’t found his arrow. 

About to give up and turn back, he glimpsed something copper-colored in the tall brush up ahead. Clifton spread back the grass to reveal the fletching. Were the feathers swaying? Nah, they couldn’t be. There wasn’t even a breeze. Then, he remembered how the shaft had glowed in his bedroom. No, way. This arrow was as plain as any other. And what did it matter? 

It wasn’t his anymore.

He grabbed the arrow, and as soon as he touched it, a wave of dizziness passed over him while a CRACK filled the air. Clifton stood, turned to head back toward the range, but froze. He was standing in the middle of an open field covered in yellow flowers that rolled like carpet into the base of  the surrounding snow-capped mountains. 

The Hinterland was gone, replaced with a shimmer in the air like heat off a highway. And with a sudden sweat he realized that Wickham Park was gone too.

About the Author
Jaimie Engle writes fantasy thrillers for teens and tweens. Her anti-bullying message has reached tens of thousands of students throughout the US, and her books have hit #1 on the Amazon New Release List. Metal Mouth, her magical realism for teens, is a contender for the 2020-2021 Florida Sunshine State Book List!  Before publishing her first novel, Jaimie danced at the Aloha Bowl halftime show, was an alien on Sea Quest, and modeled bikinis for Reef Brazil. When not writing, Jaimie can be found on TikTok or cosplaying at comic conventions. Learn more at www.theWRITEengle.com.
Contact Links
TikTok @jaimieengleauthor
Snapchat @thewriteengle
YouTube @thewriteengle
Purchase Links
Also available on iBooks
Giveaway
1 paperback & 2 ebooks
RABT Book Tours & PR

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Arrow of Light Blitz

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Clifton Chase Series, Book 1
Juvenile Fantasy Thriller
Publisher: INtense Publications
Date Published: 4/11/2020
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There were plenty of other middle schoolers it could’ve chosen. Six-hundred and eighty-six, if you didn’t count Clifton. The Arrow of Light appeared in his closet then whisked him away to a far-off land, where a dwarf and magical bird led him to two princes. He returned their arrow that he had somehow found and went home to his normal life. But the Arrow of Light had other plans. When Clifton found out that the king locked the princes in Drofflic Tower, he knew he must return to the past to protect the future. Enlisting the help of many mythical creatures and the princes’ own sister, he managed to find the reason the Arrow of Light chose him. But magic can be wrong. And history longs to be told.
EXCERPT
Chapter One
 
The Boy and the Arrow
The thought that this was a brainless thing to do hadn’t crossed his mind until now. He fumbled to fit his bow, his fingers like gelatin, as classmates lined up beside him in Wickham Park. The rest of the seventh graders gathered around to see who would win the bet between Clifton Chase and the new kid, Ryan Rivales. The instructor counted down the seconds from his stopwatch, and Clifton swiveled around to see if a certain pair of green eyes watched him. Yup. Even Ava Harrington had come to see.
“Ready…” the instructor said.
As sweat stung his eyes, Clifton remembered why he’d taken the bet. It was this arrow. He’d found it mysteriously in his closet, and then it lit up for a split second. At least he thought it had. It seemed so otherworldly at the time, and when Ryan started in on him, the only thing he could think to do was show that kid up.
“Take aim…” the instructor continued.
Now he wasn’t sure.
He pulled the notched arrow back. He had one chance, a single-shot test for precision, straight to the bullseye or whoever came the closest. Ryan wagered his sleek emerald green binary compound bow, but they both knew this bet was not about the antique arrow or the slick bow. It was for bragging rights, for pecking order.
For making it through middle school as king.
“Loose!”
On command, arrows arced through the air, landing on the targets or the wooden posts they were nailed to. Some struck the 3D molded deer, which now resembled a porcupine. A few arrows passed their marks altogether, landing out of sight in the tall grasses of the hilly sand dunes. ‘The Hinterland’ as it had been nicknamed. And that’s where Clifton’s arrow went.
“Archers….Halt!” the instructor shouted. “The range is now cold. You may retrieve your arrows.”
Clifton lifted his backpack and stepped onto the range with the others.
“What happened?” Ava asked. “You usually have perfect aim.”
Clifton’s hands went clammy whenever she came around. It hand’t always been that way, just recently. “Yeah well, I guess that crappy arrow wasn’t as good as Ryan thought it was.”
“Why’d you make that bet with him? Didn’t you say you found that thing in your garage or something?”
“My closet, actually.” Sunlight brightened her eyes and he stared a moment longer than he’d meant to.
“Well, it seems weird for you. I don’t get it.”
“There’s not much to get, Ava,”
“Except my arrow,” said Ryan as he neared them. “Nice shot, by the way.” He snickered, and the few kids who’d tagged behind him laughed.
“Wasn’t my fault,” Clifton said. “I’d never shot it before.”
“Doesn’t matter now. I won the bet. My arrow didn’t even need to land near the bull’s eye, just on the target.”
More laughter erupted, and Clifton turned away.
Ryan shoved him. “Where you going, Chase?”
Clifton did a one-eighty. “Going to get that worthless arrow you won. Must feel good to know your shot beat an antique.”
Ryan’s smile dropped. “My shot,” he said in a clipped tone, “beat your shot. Now go find my arrow and hand it over.”
Clifton’s hands balled into fists as he left the circle to reach the edge of The Hinterland. Ava followed.
“I can’t believe what a jerk that guy is,” Clifton said. “Can you believe how epic he thinks he is? Like he’s the greatest archer of all times…Robin Hood Rivales.”
Ava’s hands perched on her hips. “You’re the one that tried convincing him your arrow was something special, when you knew it wasn’t. Seems like maybe Ryan’s not the one being the jerk. See you later, Clifton.”
Clifton lowered his head, defeated. He’d lost the arrow, lost the compound bow, lost his dignity, and Ava thought he was a jerk. Now, he had to trudge through The Hinterland looking for the ridiculous arrow that started it all. He swore under his breath and headed up the dune.
Across the way, Juan Sanchez, another victim of inaccuracy, scanned the brush facedown like Clifton. He was about to suggest they join forces when something sunk through his sock into his ankle. Sandspurs. He’d run through a whole patch and took a few minutes to pick them off, which hurt his fingers as much as his ankles. As he avoided a red ant pile, he almost tripped on a root that jutted up like a step.
And still, he hadn’t found his arrow.
About to give up and turn back, he glimpsed something copper-colored in the tall brush up ahead. Clifton spread back the grass to reveal the fletching. Were the feathers swaying? Nah, they couldn’t be. There wasn’t even a breeze. Then, he remembered how the shaft had glowed in his bedroom. No, way. This arrow was as plain as any other. And what did it matter?
It wasn’t his anymore.
He grabbed the arrow, and as soon as he touched it, a wave of dizziness passed over him while a CRACK filled the air. Clifton stood, turned to head back toward the range, but froze. He was standing in the middle of an open field covered in yellow flowers that rolled like carpet into the base of  the surrounding snow-capped mountains.
The Hinterland was gone, replaced with a shimmer in the air like heat off a highway. And with a sudden sweat he realized that Wickham Park was gone too.
About the Author
Jaimie Engle writes fantasy thrillers for teens and tweens. Her anti-bullying message has reached tens of thousands of students throughout the US, and her books have hit #1 on the Amazon New Release List. Metal Mouth, her magical realism for teens, is a contender for the 2020-2021 Florida Sunshine State Book List!  Before publishing her first novel, Jaimie danced at the Aloha Bowl halftime show, was an alien on Sea Quest, and modeled bikinis for Reef Brazil. When not writing, Jaimie can be found on TikTok or cosplaying at comic conventions. Learn more at www.theWRITEengle.com.
Contact Links
TikTok @thewriteengle
Snapchat @thewriteengle
YouTube @thewriteengle
Purchase Links
Also available on iBooks
Giveaway
1 paperback & 2 ebooks
RABT Book Tours & PR

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Write a Book That Doesn’t Suck Blitz

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Non-Fiction
Date Published:  Hardcover November 30th
Your Book Might Suck…
But it doesn’t have to.
You are an awesome writer with an incredible fiction story the world needs to experience. But your book… well, it kind of sucks. So let’s fix that.
Setting your novel apart from the rest is a choice.
Fiction is more than a character doing stuff in a place you’ve invented. There are rules to magic and seasons to setting and double meanings to words, and a cadence to sentence structure if you want to write a book that doesn’t suck.
I guarantee you will find tricks and treats you’ve never heard or read before in any other writing book. If not, let me know and I’ll refund your money. But if I’m right, and my book helps you to write a novel that doesn’t suck, then I’m asking you, in return to leave a positive review. That’s fair, isn’t it?
Ready to get started? Great! There are questions with space to answer at the end of each chapter to help you along your journey. I’m super excited for you and wish you all the luck in writing your novel!
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About the Author
Jaimie Engle writes fantasy thrillers for teens and tweens. Her anti-bullying message has reached tens of thousands of students throughout the US, and her books have hit #1 on the Amazon New Release List.  Before publishing her first novel, Jaimie danced at the Aloha Bowl halftime show, was an alien on Sea Quest, and modeled bikinis for Reef Brazil. When not writing books, screenplays, and comics, Jaimie can be found cosplaying at comic conventions. Learn more at www.theWRITEengle.com.
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Metal Mouth – Blitz

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YA Magical Realism
Date Published: 12/1/2018
Publisher: JME Books
 
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Mahlorie hates her braces. And who cares what she looks like anyway? Her parents sure do. Dad, a traveling magician, and Mom, a famous erotica author, constantly harp on the importance of appearance. Her best friend Shai is the epitome of pop-culture, crushing on every boy with a cute smile. But when Mal has a near-death experience and can suddenly hear a boy’s voice in her head, life takes a turn for the weird. He can hear her too. How did her braces become transmitters? And who is this boy she just might be falling in love with? For fans of “The Fault in Our Stars” and “Everything, Everything.”
This magical coming-of-age tale of mystery and self-discovery, and love and friendship makes the impossible become all too real…

 
Excerpt
Mom and Dad finally agree to disagree. They get along much better when there’s a lot of land between them. It’s ironic because both of my parents make their living by an illusion that they sell to the public while in private, they’re totally different people. Dad, with a sleight of hand, can make you see only what he wants you to see.
“It’s all about presentation, turtledove, how you look and where you look. Get the crowd to believe what you want them to believe. See? The magic is how well you sell it. Your pitch. Your package. In this world, people will believe the truth is whatever you show them it is. Appearance is everything.”
Mom, on the other hand, creates these perfect worlds in opposition of the one in which she lives, tied up neatly in the end through the power of love. Her appearance is her ticket. How she looks affects how fans perceive her. Once, Mom actually paid a team of marketers to determine which color pant suit she should wear. By her outfit change, she sold 5,000 books and landed a guest spot on The Today Show.
“Appearance is everything, lambkin. You won’t be successful as a woman without purposed wardrobe, hair, and make-up. People don’t really care about who you are until they see that you fit the mold. Understand? You can be whoever you want to be so long as you make it believable.”
This, by the way, is the only reason I got these stupid braces. It’s also the reason why I hate short dresses and glittery barrettes. It isn’t that I don’t want to be popular like Shai. What if I can’t? What if no matter how well I sleight my hand or how often I change my clothes, I never find my place? That failure scares me more than not fitting in. So, what do I do? I manipulate my personality, tweak my appearance, and blend.
Where does that leave me?
Somewhere in my dad’s deck of cards or my mom’s perfectly constructed novel where I blend into a false reality and play the role I’m supposed to play. “Appearance is everything.”
“Appearance is nothing,” the voice in my head contradicts, only this time, I’m not certain the voice is mine.
About the Author

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JAIMIE ENGLE is the author of dark thrillers for teens where magic turns ordinary into extraordinary. She weaves history, magic, and lore into her books, which take readers on wondrous adventures, though her passion is talking to kids about writing and social issues because words have power. She loves coffee, cosplay, and making Wick Books® candles inspired by scents from her novels and for other indie authors so readers can Experience the Story! She lives in Florida with her awesome husband, hilarious children, and the world’s best dog. Learn more at thewriteengle.com, where Jaimie is always working on her next book.
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The Toilet Papers Release – Blitz

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Short story collection (horror, humor, & historical)
Date Published: 7/23/2017
Publisher: JME Books
 
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Have you ever noticed that reading a book on the toilet takes forever? Wouldn’t it be nice to have stories suited to your specific potty needs? This collection of short stories ranges from 50 words to more than 50 pages, separated in categories labeled to fit your bathroom needs: NUMBER ONE, NUMBER TWO, and FARFROMPOOPIN. The idea is to give you, the reader, a great deal of material to read, tailored and categorized to the needs of your intestines and bladder. So go ahead, get comfortable, pull out your Squatty Potty® and enjoy some fantasy, science fiction, horror, adventure, and humor from the comfort of your own throne…the john…the latrine…your office…the bathroom, whatever you want to call it. Just be sure to wash your hands once you’re done. 
 
Excerpt
“Get him to his feet,” Sarah ordered.
“Watch my shoulder,” Jedediah said. “Hurts like a son of a bitch.”
Sarah slipped beneath his wounded arm while Bobby Ray slipped under the other one. They led Jedediah to a seat that hadn’t been overturned during the fight.
The cowboy knelt before him, pulling back Jedediah’s shirt to scrutinize the wound. His face remained hidden by the wide brim of his hat. He wore hide boots whose origin Jedediah could only speculate and his skin smelled like fire.
“It’s not too deep,” the cowboy said. “Won’t take me a minute.” He pressed his large flat palm against the wound.
Jedediah bit the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming. His mouth pooled with the iron-taste of his own blood.
The cowboy lifted his hand.
Jedediah stared as the gaping holes in his flesh were completely healed; the tear in his blood soaked shirt was all that remained. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
“Be careful, bartender. You don’t meant it.” He leaned over the body of what had once been Frances Deveaux and whatever had tried to eat Jedediah. “This one’s dead.”
“Course he is,” Bobby Ray said. “You killed him.”
“No. This man’s been dead.” The cowboy rolled the body on to its stomach with the steel-tipped toe of his boot. “Was before he walked through those doors.”
“The living dead?” Bobby Ray whispered.
“Of all the unholy things,” said Sarah.
Beneath Frances Deveaux’s shoulder blade lay an empty cavity where his liver should have been.
“Detestable.” Sarah covered her mouth and swept to an empty seat near the bar.
“Did he say why he was here?” the cowboy asked, staring at the body.
“Not precisely. Just said some woman tried to kill him, so he gave her what she wanted.”
“And what was that?”
Jedediah gulped hard. “Me.”
The man looked up, his face in shadows. “You?”
“That’s right.”
“Did she say what for?”
“Never got to that part.”
The man didn’t say a word as he stared at Jedediah. Finally, he spoke. “Something’s after you, Jed. I’m gonna stay in town a while to figure out what.” He looked up. “You okay with that?”
His eyes shone in a radiant shade of violet. Dirty-blond hair fell ragged from beneath his hat.
“Yes, Simeon. I’m okay with it,” Jedediah said. “I think I’m gonna need some help on this one.”
“First thing to figure out is where this man’s liver went. Hopefully, it will lead to this woman you mentioned.” Simeon stood, walked back to the entrance, and turned in the doorway. “You all better get your feet shod,” he said with a smirk, tipping his hat, “because it’s about to get ugly.”

 



About the Author
 

Jaimie Engle was once sucked into a storybook, where she decided she would become an author. She has modeled, managed a hip-hop band, and run a body shop. She loves coffee, trivia, cosplay, and podcasting on ORIGINS, where myth and science meet (podcastORIGINS.com). Basically, if it’s slanted toward the supernatural or nerdy, she’s into it! She lives in Florida with her awesome husband, hilarious children, and the world’s best dog. She also happens to have the world’s best literary agent, Saritza Hernandez. Become a fan at theWRITEengle.com. Follow on social media @theWRITEengle and pick up books at jmebooks.com.
 
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Rafflecopter: July 6 – Aug 6 ($30 Starbucks GC; Toilet Papers ebook) 
 
Goodreads Giveaway: July 1 – July 22 (3 paperbacks)
 
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