LOST and FOUND Release Day Party SWAG!

Friday means two important things for you:

The online release of LOST and FOUND and the Release Day Party fun!

We’ve been celebrating for awhile now, but Friday brings new winnings for a few very lucky people! So, how do you get in on the fun?

For starters, you need to be attending the Facebook Release Day Event Party page.

Once you read the rules below, and agree to the terms laid upon us by Facebook, you can join in on the fun! Any ‘winners’ will be announced here on the blog throughout the day…so be sure to be on the lookout in the party for posts linking back to this blog.

What can you WIN? Well, take a peek…

A Signed, Print Copy of LOST and FOUND 

Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000038_00071]

Coffee Mug

LF Mug

LOST and FOUND Tote

LF Tote

Handmade LOST and FOUND Paper Rose

Rose for LF Release Party

So, now I’m sure you want to know how you can win these things?

SIMPLE! Read the rules for this contest giveaway below:

RULES for LOST and FOUND Giveaway

There will be no grand prize winner, instead, those who have met all requirements will gain entry points for the above items. There will be three drawings for each item pictured above (1 for the Print copy, 1 for the mug, 1 for the tote). Participants that have met all requirements can gain entries into each drawing – there is NO limit to entries, or the number of drawings Participants choose to enter. At the end of Release Day, three separate drawings will be made via Random.org for those who have met all of the below requirements.

The Requirements to enter each drawing are:

  1. All Participants must be attending the Facebook Event Party

  2. All Participants must email their Amazon receipt of purchase for the eBook copy of LOST and FOUND to AuthorTMDawson@gmail.com

How to win EXTRA entries into one or all three of the above drawings:

All day long on Friday, small contests/games will be held on the Facebook Event Page that will give those participating in the above requirements ways to earn extra entries. These entries will be added to the drawings at the end of the day.

Good Luck to everyone participating and Thank You for your interest and support for the release of LOST and FOUND!! Happy Reading!

Sunday Snippet of LOST and FOUND!

 

A little Sunday Snippet from the soon to be released, LOST and FOUND:

Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000038_00071]

 

 

Connor punched the closet door so hard three of his knuckle impressions were left in the painted particleboard. He flinched, staring at the caved-in spots with animosity, as if it was the doors fault his hand hurt, and not his own.

“Damn!” he cursed at the wood, rubbing over the raw parts of his hand with his other thumb.

She couldn’t go, not on a horse, not all the way to Los Angeles. What if she was thrown or the horses got spooked and left them stranded in the middle of nowhere? What if he was thrown, his neck broken and not able to take care of her? With a sigh, he ran a finger over the amygdaliform of one of the indents, tracing the almond shaped hole carefully. She did this to him, riled him up inside; tortured his heart and clouded his mind. It was all her fault that he was falling apart at the seams. But he didn’t mind, of course he didn’t, because he loved her. And love was…well, messy.

 

 

Don’t forget to join the Release Day Party over on Facebook! Hang out with some fun Find Me fans and win some LOST and FOUND swag!

Sunday Snippet of ‘Lost & Found’

‘Lost and Found’ will be released in March. Yep, THIS March. I’m so freaking excited! Here’s a Sunday Snippet for you!

The wind howled like a dying wolf outside the windows and rattled the solar panels on the roof. It had a ferocity so intense I figured it was only a matter of time before they slid off the top of the terracotta tiles and landed with a crash on the driveway and back patio. They were what kept the house running, just as if the power had never been lost. Except for those few days where the storm ripped through California with one goal only – destroy anything and everything in its path.

I turned away from the moisture-clouded glass and readjusted my feet beneath me as I pushed deeper into the chair. Drake was lounged on the sectional, his feet propped on a pair of matching cushions with Swarovski crystals sewn delicately onto the silk fabric. I think he used the lavish throw pillows as foot props on purpose as a way to spite the previous owners who spent money on things that had no true worth. The house was full of valuable items from all around the world that meant absolutely nothing anymore. Value had a different meaning. Fresh water and food had become our gold and silver.

“How long are you going to stare at me?” he asked without looking up from his book.

I inwardly chastised myself for blushing but since he had yet to glance up at me, the embarrassment faded quickly. “I’m not staring. I was thinking,” I said a bit too rough.

“Thinking…and staring.” Again, he didn’t look up but I thought I caught a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

With an exasperated sigh, I glanced back outside at the cold wind that had the tropical plants in the backyard thrashing around wildly. Even after hearing the sound of paper rustle and the hardcover book snap shut, I didn’t look at Drake. The feel of his eyes burned into the back of my neck and I wiped at the sensation on my skin nervously.

Eventually he spoke, “What’s wrong? You’re more pouty than usual.”

“And you’re just as rude, I see.”

“You think I’m rude?” he laughed.

“Unpleasantly rude and not very thoughtful,” I grumbled under my breath, finally looking at him.

His smile faded immediately. “If I was either of those things, I would have just left you bleeding out in the mud.”

“Then why didn’t you?” I snapped.

Drake’s hands flew up in front of his face like he wanted to strangle something. “I’m not as much of an ass as you think I am. Have I proved otherwise?”

What’s in store for the year 2013…

Yes. I am planning out my writing goals for this year. And there is a LOT to be done. I figure, the best way to actually reach these goals is to share them. It means someone else will hold me accountable – not just myself, right? At least, that is the plan! So, without further babbling, here is my ‘2013 Writing List’:

  • Finish and release book 2 of the Find Me Series – Lost & Found
  • Write and release book 3 of The Station Series – Dying to Return
  • Begin (and hopefully release) the thriller – Behind the Glass
  • Begin a new and untitled YA Fantasy (and hopefully release first book)
  • Begin a new Fantasy Series (Untitled)
  • Begin book 3 of the Find Me Series

So…with all of that said…here is to a successful year full of new adventures, thrills and fantasy! 😀

Saturday Snippet!

Happy Weekend! The Holiday rush is over, now it’s time to recover and get back into regular blogging. 😉 To kick off, here is this week’s ‘Saturday Snippet’ from my current WIP due out soon – ‘Lost & Found’, book 2 of the Find Me Series. Enjoy!!

____________________________

Drake stopped just before a major intersection, stepping off the cracked sidewalk to lean against the wall of a three story office building. I stood next to him in semi-baggy clothes that didn’t quite fit right, my hair pulled back in a tight pony tail and stared across the street where dozens of medical tents stood, cordoned off from the street by a slew of haphazardly placed military vehicles. Even from hundreds of feet away I could hear the flap of the plastic tents as the breeze moved through them with a lazy kind of lull. A separate area inside the barrier was partially obstructed from my view but the single story tent with a white dome top had a rip down one of its long sides, exposing the contents to the elements.

Stacked on top of each other in tight rows were thousands of white body bags; just iridescent enough that even from beyond the street and across the parking lot I could make out the brunette, blonde and occasional redheaded bodies through their milky-colored plastic wraps. It wasn’t the first time I had seen a medical quarantine zone but the sheer volume of people sickened me. The way each body, no matter the size, was piled neatly on top of the next, meant there was a system in place on how to properly store infected human remains. Someone wrote up a plan, had a title, pointed at a pile and said, ‘That one over there’. It was depressing and sad and made me want to puke.

“Sure is something, isn’t it?” Drake said in a hushed tone. His eyes were glazed over, like he was looking through the death across the street, rather than at it.

I glanced between him with his stoic and faraway gaze, and the parking lot turned military base with a numb feeling. It should hurt to see such a thing. Thousands of dead people – hundreds of dead families. It should hurt every time, like a knife straight into the heart, to see a body bag with a person half my size rotting inside. But it was only that detached and numb feeling. A feeling of ‘been there and seen that’. A shitty feeling.

Drake cleared his throat to bring my attention back to him. “Warehouse is just over there,” he nodded down the street, beyond the vacant office building.

I stared at the side of his head, wondering what the story was behind the closed hole in his right earlobe. A random thought for a fractured mind. Made sense.

“So, when do you want to do this?” I asked, still staring at the tiny hole in his ear where a piercing used to be.

“No time like the present.” He grinned the wide Joker smile that creeped me out.

Sighing, I knelt to the ground in a small patch of brown grass, letting the moisture from the night before soak into the knee of my jeans. Mudding up my pants wasn’t a concern. Being dirty was a normal part of my new life. Besides, the jeans would be easy to replace if needed. Stain your clothes and break a shoelace? Pilfer new ones from the closest mall. Lose your brush and run out of shampoo? Pilfer more from the closest mall. Of course, that philosophy wouldn’t last forever. Eventually even the malls would dry out just like the bones from the bodies under the dome tent.

My pack was full of weapons; handguns and clips, knives of different shapes and sizes. Most of them pulled off the dead men from the day before. My own knife was strapped securely to my leg, just like Drake’s. A gun was tucked into the back of my jeans, loaded and ready for action. The day before, I hadn’t even bothered to take one of the long range rifles. My shoulder wouldn’t tolerate the kickback so Drake was the only one with a rifle draped across his torso like a pageantry ribbon.

All we needed was a little bit of greasy paint to streak our faces and those cool lace-up combat boots and we would fit right in with the thugs we conspired to kill. Well, maybe the camouflage paint was a bit much, but the idea struck me as a funny one and I imagined Drake’s face covered in hunter green, mine in black. The image was so appealing at that moment that I almost dragged my fingers through the mud and rubbed them under my eyes.

Instead I sighed, doing it over and over, filling my lungs with air as rapidly as I could sort of like a swimmer would right before launching their body into the water for a race. When my head felt efficiently light-headed and cleared of all the gunk that lingered around in there like the day old smell of skunk, I tightened my pack straps and nodded at Drake that I was ready. Of course, all he had to do to prepare was hitch his jeans up half an inch or so. Men were easy that way.

“Ready?” he asked, gun in hand, fingers and muscles taut and ready to fire.

“Ready enough,” I said with a smile. If we were going to die in five minutes, I wanted a smile to be the last expression we shared between us.