Friday 31 January 2020


SHORTLISTED for the 2017 Dante Rossetti Awards 
for Young Adult Fiction!
If you love the vibes in "The Orphanage," "The Craft" and "Pretty Little Liars," you'll enjoy this mess-with-your-head, YA supernatural/psychological thriller!
Title: Chameleon
Author: Zoe Kalo
Genre: YA, Paranormal, Psychological suspense
Release Date: 2nd February 2020

BLURB supplied by Silver Dagger Book Tours

I can't believe it has come to this. The way things have blown out of proportion. I only wanted to contact my dead father. Ask his forgiveness.
Seven months.
Seven months isn't that long, is it?
I'll go through the motions, no need to make friends that I’ll never see again. When you get close to people, you end up getting hurt.

Puerto Rico, 1973

17-year-old Paloma only wanted to hold a séance to contact her dead father. She never thought she would be kicked out of school and end up in an isolated convent. Now, all she wants is to be left alone. But slowly, she develops a bond with a group of girls: kind-hearted Maria, insolent Silvy, pathological liar Adelita, and their charismatic leader Rubia.

At night, the waterfall’s dark music haunts her dreams of drowning…

When Paloma holds another séance, she accidentally awakens an entity that has been dormant for years. The body count begins. Someone doesn’t want the secret out…
Are the ghost and Paloma’s suspicions real—or only part of her growing paranoia and delusions? 



A certified bookworm, Zoe Kalo has always been obsessed with books and reading. Reading led to writing—compulsively. No surprise that at 16, she wrote her first novel, which her classmates read and passed around secretly. The pleasure of writing and sharing her fantasy worlds has stayed with her, so now she wants to pass her stories to you with no secrecy—but with lots of mystery…

She’s had the good fortune of living on 3 continents, learning 4 languages, and experiencing a multicultural life. She holds a BA in Creative Writing and an MA in Comparative Literature. She lives in Belgium with her husband and two evil cats.


I cannot clearly say how I had entered
the wood; I was so full of sleep just at
the point where I abandoned the true path.
--Dante Alighieri, Inferno 1. 11-12

Chapter 1

Puerto Rico, 1973

Oak trees dripping with Spanish moss embraced us from both sides, but not enough to shield us from the prison that would be my home for the next seven months. The high stone walls and neo-Gothic bell tower loomed over us as my stepfather drove his Mercedes through the spiked iron gates and into the sloping, curving driveway.
A spider of dread crawled up my back. Prison indeed.
I couldn’t believe it had come to this. The way things had blown out of proportion. I’d only wanted to contact my dead father. Ask his forgiveness.
               My mother reached for my hand from the front seat without turning around to look at me. I stared at her perfectly polished red nails and the glittery square cut emerald on her ring finger. Her fingers flicked, silently pleading for my attention, but I was frozen inside. Her hand retreated.
I stared at the convent, my eyes studying the dark arched windows, the worn, age-blackened stones. The place looked haunted. Perfect for my state of mind. What was my mother thinking?
Something moved behind one of the windows. A face. For an instant my pulse raced at the sheer paleness of it, at the two dark holes that made up its eyes.
“What are you looking at?” Sara, my six-year-old half sister, asked.
I pointed. “A girl.”
She followed my line of vision. “Where?”
“There. High up. In the window.”
               She dipped her head so she could have a better look. “I don’t see anything.”
               I felt a shiver, but not from the cold. It’s white. It’s watching us.
               Then the car moved too close to the building, and the face vanished from view. 
               “Is this your new school, Paloma?” Sara asked.
               I nodded. Sara was the child, female version of my stepfather. Her bottomless dark eyes, framed by velvety lashes, stared at me with misery. “I don’t like it,” she whispered, grabbing my hand.
               “It’ll be okay,” I whispered back, and gave her hand a little squeeze.
               “You promise?”
               “I promise.”
               “Well, here we are,” Domenico said in his strong Castilian accent, stopping the car in front of the entrance. He climbed out and opened the door for my mother. Then he proceeded to take out my suitcases from the trunk.
               My mother was silent. She stepped out like a wooden mannequin, her eyes shimmery with unshed tears.
               I climbed out, followed by Sara, the gravel crunching under our shoes. The early morning air was cool and a blanket of mist still lingered—not surprising, since the convent was on the outskirts of El Yunque, the island’s rain forest. More Spanish moss hung from the oak trees and rippled in the breeze like long, shivering memories. I could smell the dew on the leaves and the rich perfume of moist earth, redolent of open graves.
               I glanced at the ominous clouds. “Beautiful morning.”
An ongoing distant hum resonated all around us. One, two beats passed, before it struck me: Waterfall.
Something within me shut down—or exploded, I couldn’t be sure.
I shut my eyes for a second, wiping out memories of chilled water searing my lungs.
               I repeated the eighth multiplication table in my head. 
“After you,” Domenico said, interrupting my thoughts. 
I wanted to loathe him. Tried to, anyway. I could see what my mother saw in him: a powerfully charismatic, handsome man with the infinite skill to make people do his bidding. My mother, with her small delicate features and petite frame, looked invisible beside him. A mere spectre. But that was just a façade. I knew better.
               The big oak door opened and a nun clad in black habit and a wimple came down the steps to greet us.
               Sara wrapped her arms around my waist. Her gesture both comforted me and heightened my anxiety. Nuns in habit made me think of great black birds. 
               “Bienvenidos,” the nun said. Like my stepfather, she also had a Castilian accent. “I’m Madre Estela and I’m second in charge to Madre Superiora. You must be Señor and Señora de Aznar.”
               They exchanged small talk. Madre Estela sounded polite enough, but she didn’t offer to shake hands with my parents, which I found strange. Maybe nuns weren’t allowed to shake hands. I wouldn’t be surprised. I noticed the wedding band on her ring finger. Married to God. Absurd.
               “You must be Paloma,” she said tonelessly. 
               “Yes,” I said. Wasn’t it obvious? I didn’t know what else to say.
               The cross on her chest caught my attention. It had a crucified Christ on it and I noticed the thorns cutting Christ’s forehead, the little drops of blood glistening on His fragile body.
               “Welcome to our school, Paloma.” Her critical gaze scrutinized my makeup, my tight jeans. “I’ve heard much about you.”
I didn’t miss the hint of cold disapproval in her voice. I wasn’t sure how much my parents had complained about my behavior, but considering I had been kicked out—well, actually, kindly asked to leave—my previous school in the middle of October, it couldn’t be good.
               “Are you ready to resume your senior year of high school?” Stress on resume.
               “I can’t wait,” I said. There was no point in being nice—or pretending to be. That just wasn’t me. I felt miserable and couldn’t hide it. Besides, I could tell from our short exchange that she’d made up her mind not to like me long before meeting me, and I had the sinking feeling that no matter what I said or did, her opinion wouldn’t change. I had already been stamped in her Inquisition book, tagged a criminal. 
               Madre Estela’s stony eyes moved to Sara. My little sister’s arms clutched my waist even tighter. From the nun’s expression, I could tell she was wondering if I had infected Sara with whatever plague ailed me. She dismissed us and turned back to my mother and stepfather. “Madre Superiora is expecting you in her office.  Let’s not keep her waiting, shall we not? Don’t concern yourselves with the suitcases. Someone will come for them shortly.”
               They thanked her and followed her up the steps.
               “I don’t want to go in,” Sara said.
“It’ll be okay,” I said. I glanced at the window. I wanted to see the pale face again. But there was nothing.
               A drop of rain hit my cheek and I wiped it off. Then I held Sara’s hand and together we walked up the steps and through the arched doorway.
I felt my throat closing up.
               Seven months.
Seven months wasn’t that long, was it? Besides, Thanksgiving break was just around the corner. Six weeks, to be exact. I had already marked my calendar. I couldn’t wait. I would go through the motions, no need to make friends that I’d never see again. When you get close to people, you end up getting hurt.

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Thursday 30 January 2020


Title: Chaos Rising
Series: Edge Of Collapse
Author: Kyla Stone
Genre: Sci-Fi, Post Apocalyptic
Release Date: 23rd December 2019

BLURB from Goodreads
In a heartbeat, everything grinds to a halt...
On Christmas Eve, the lights go out. Vehicles stop working. Communications break down.

Reclusive former soldier Liam Coleman doesn't want to be anywhere near bustling downtown Chicago the day before Christmas. But his twin brother and his pregnant sister-in-law need him, so he makes the trip.

But mere minutes after leaving O'Hare, their car crashes, along with hundreds of other vehicles. When Liam's phone stops working, he begins to suspect something more sinister than a local power outage. But before he can react, the first plane falls from the sky...


I am always searching for new authors to try and after reading a brilliant post apocalyptic book, I was in the mood to read more of the genre but the next book wasn’t out for a while. I have joined some groups on Facebook so turned to those, checking out what had just come out, what people were talking about and I saw the cover for Chaos Rising which instantly made me want to know more. I needed to know who the lonely looking figure on the cover was, why were they alone, where were they going, etc etc. The cover certainly did its job of capturing my attention.

I do love reading a series from the very beginnings as it is being released so it was a great time to start reading this series.

The book’s central character is Liam Coleman who had served with Special Forces, until being discharged due to a back injury. Now he lives alone, on his own homestead, in which he is quite self-sufficient and prepared for anything. Liam is certainly out of his comfort zone in an airport surrounded by bustling crowds on Christmas Eve. If it had been up to him, he would have taken a quieter route and drove in his own vehicle, but there wasn’t time, he hadn’t seen his brother, Lincoln, for four years and he needed him, now. Liam is very fond of his brother Lincoln and his pregnant wife Jessa. In fact, he had seen Jessa first but his more outgoing brother had been the first to speak to her and the rest was history.
Lincoln and Jessa finally arrive in their car to collect and one look at his twin brother tells Liam that Lincoln is struggling. Lincoln has also served in the army, he returned home with a prosthetic limb and PTSD from that same IED explosion take the life of his best friend. Lincoln has visibly lost weight and looks drawn and tired. Liam manages a few words with his 9 months pregnant sister-in-law, Jessa as they stow his bag away in the car boot. Though 9 months pregnant, Jessa is, calm and as capable as ever. Jessa reveals that Lincoln hardly sleeps and even worse had an outburst at work meaning he has now been laid off. Jessa tells Liam he is the only one who can talk to Lincoln, to get through to him and help him.
On the car journey, they just generally chat about the baby and him not having a name yet as Lincoln has said he will know the baby’s name when he sees him.
Suddenly, all the cars seem to lose control at the same time, ploughing into each other causing more and more accidents and injured people. Something strange has happened, the traffic lights are all out, people trying to use their mobiles to call for help are discovering they are not working at all either. Then to make matters even worse planes start flying lower and lower in the sky attempting to do emergency landings wherever they can. Liam is faced with an impossible decision when both Lincoln and Jessa need his help….who should he help, who needs him the most…..what would Lincoln want him to do….then something just seems to kick into gear and the decision is made.

I won’t reveal any more of the plot, but what I will say is that this book is action packed and quite fast paced too.

I soon became attached to Liam who is prepared to go out of his usual comfort zone in an attempt to help his twin brother Lincoln who is struggling with his PTSD. I was also fond of Jessa who despite being pregnant and in need of medical attention, finds it difficult to ignore her medical training passing casualties as Liam attempts to get them to safety. Another smaller character I really admired was Prisha, she ignores a colleague’s attempts to stop Liam and Jessa seeking refuge in the Hotel they are working in. Prisha doesn’t hesitate she goes to their aid immediately and finds anything they may need.

My immediate thoughts upon finishing this prequel were Wow! A quick read, read it all in just one reading session. It is certainly action packed, and so much happens in this prequel. This book sets the scene for the possible horrors to come. I easily took to and adored, Liam, Lincoln, and Jessa. I definitely want to read more of this series......especially if it's all as great as this prequel!
To sum up I really loved this book, I read the whole thing in just one reading session and I am looking forward to more from Liam but, also hoping for more from the new character we meet near the ending of the prequel along with Jessa’s parents maybe. This prequel is certainly a fantastic start to a potentially amazing series. Sometimes when you finish a book you think about what is to come in the rest of the series but this one, well it could go in so many different directions. I am just looking forward to discovering more.

Wednesday 29 January 2020


Title: Cast In Wisdom
Series: The Chronicles Of Elantra
Author: Michelle Sagara
Publisher: MIRA books
Genre: Paranormal, Fantasy
Release Date: 28th January 2020

BLURB supplied by MIRA books
In the aftermath of the events in the High Halls, there are loose ends. One of those loose ends is the fieflord, Candallar. In an attempt to understand his involvement—with the Barrani, with the High Court, and with the much hated Arcanum—Kaylin has been sent to the fiefs.

She has mixed feelings about this. There’s nothing mixed about her feelings when she discovers a very unusual building in the border zone between two fiefs, and far more questions are raised than are answered. Her attempt to get answers leads her back to the Imperial Palace and its resident Dragon librarian, the Arkon.

Things that were lost in the dim past were not, perhaps, destroyed or obliterated—and what remains appears to be in the hands of a fieflord and his allies—allies who would like to destroy Kaylin’s friends, the Emperor, and possibly the Barrani High Court itself. This is bad.

What’s worse: The librarian who hates to leave his library has a very strong interest in the things that might, just might, have been preserved, and—he is leaving his library to do in person research, no matter what Kaylin, the Hawks, or the Emperor think.

He is not the only one. Other people are gathering in the border zone; people who believe knowledge is power. But power is also power, and it might be too late for the Empire’s most dedicated Historian—and Kaylin and her friends, who’ve been tasked with his safety.

Michelle Sagara is an author, book­seller, and lover of liter­ature based in Toronto. She writes fantasy novels and lives with her husband and her two children, and to her regret has no dogs. Reading is one of her life-long passions, and she is some­times paid for her opinions about what she’s read by the venerable Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. No matter how many book­shelves she buys, there is Never Enough Shelf space. Ever.

Twitter: @msagara
Facebook: @MMSagara

“You are such a coward,” Bellusdeo said when they’d reached the relative safety of the street. The roads in and around Helen were sparsely populated at the busiest of times, which this wasn’t. They would soon join roads that were crowded at the slowest of times, but Kaylin was dressed for the office. The Hawk emblazoned on her tabard encouraged people to make space.

Had Bellusdeo hit the streets in her Draconic form, she’d have cleared far more of it—but some of that space would be created by panic, and panic could cause both accidents and the type of traffic congestion that caused the Swords to investigate. Also, it was illegal.
“It’s not cowardice,” Kaylin replied, scanning the windows of the buildings above ground level.
“What would you call it?”
“Oh, please.”
“There’s no point in arguing with them now. Sedarias thinks it’ll be months before this ridiculous command performance occurs. We have months to attempt to talk her out of—”
“Out of expressing any appreciation or gratitude?”
Ugh. “You know they’re grateful. This isn’t about gratitude. It’s about rubbing that gratitude in the faces of the Barrani who attempted to brand you a—an army. An attacking army.”
“I believe the term you want is Flight.” Bellusdeo’s eyes were orange.
Hope squawked at the Dragon. Kaylin didn’t understand what he was saying. Bellusdeo did, but her eyes didn’t get any lighter.
“You know as well as I do,” Kaylin said, emboldened by Hope’s entry into the discussion, “that this is not the time to visit the High Halls. I’m not sure the Emperor has ever been a guest there.”
“We visited the Halls—more or less—when they came under attack, and the Barrani needed our help.”
“From the outside. No one invited the Dragon Court in.”
The chorus of Barrani voices that sometimes offered entirely unasked for opinions on the inside of her head maintained their silence for half a beat. The first person to break that silence was the fieflord. His words were tinged with amusement.
You cannot expect that the cohort would suddenly cease to cause any difficulty, surely?
I’m almost certain that the cohort understands why inviting a Dragon—any Dragon—to attend the High Halls would be a disaster.
For the Dragons?
For everyone.
I believe some of the more conservative High Lords might be surprisingly supportive of such an invitation.
Of course they would. It would be their best shot at killing Bellusdeo. If Bellusdeo died, there would be no new Dragons. No hatchlings.
There’s no way the Emperor would give her permission to attend.
Nightshade concurred. In his position, I would not. But I would be prepared, should I refuse to grant that permission, for all-out war. My brother has grown inordinately fond of her; living with you has made him reckless.
He’s not—
He has known Bellusdeo for even less time than you. He is willing to trust her in a fashion no one older would. And do not cite the Consort, please.
Kaylin hadn’t intended to. The Consort seems to like her.
Kaylin, the Consort “likes” me. But she does not trust me.
She does.
“Stop making that face, or it will freeze that way.” Kaylin reddened.
I understand that you are attempting to avoid the Emperor’s ire. I consider this wise on your part. It is not, however, the ire of the Emperor that will be your most significant problem; he will do nothing to harm Bellusdeo.
I know that.
It is the ire of the High Lords. Sedarias is, I believe, genuinely grateful for Bellusdeo’s intervention. She does wish to honor her. But gratitude can be expressed privately—and in most cases, it is. Only rulers feel obliged to make that expression public because the public expression elevates those to whom one feels gratitude. It makes clear to witnesses that the aid tendered—in whatever fashion—is important and significant. The Emperor has codified such significance in public ceremonies and public titles, has he not?
Kaylin shrugged.
For Sedarias, however, genuine gratitude is not an impediment to political displays. She can be genuinely grateful and simultaneously, extremely political. She wishes to highlight Bellusdeo’s aid and import to Mellarionne. Why do you think this is?
Kaylin thought about this. After a long pause, she said, She wants to thumb her nose at the rest of the High Lords, many of whom weren’t helpful at all?
Nightshade’s silence was one of encouragement.
Bellusdeo’s a Dragon. So…her presence means that even Dragons—with whom you’ve had a war or two—
Fine, a war or three, were more helpful, or at least more of a genuine ally, than any of the Barrani.
Yes. I believe that is some part of Sedarias’s intent. That’s not going to help Mellarionne any.
Perhaps, perhaps not. She will do so as An’Mellarionne. It would be considered a very bold move—but there are those who would assume that Sedarias is confident in her own power, and they would hesitate to challenge her.
“If you are speaking about me,” Bellusdeo said, her voice almost a whisper of sound, “I must insist that you include me.”
Hope squawked.
“Well, yes, that could cause some difficulty,” the Dragon replied. “But I dislike Kaylin’s worry. She is mortal.” Squawk. “The marks of the Chosen don’t matter. She’s mortal. I may be a displaced person in these lands; I may no longer have a home or lands of my own. But I am a Dragon.”
“I’m not exactly worried about you,” Kaylin said. When one golden brow rose in response, she added, “Not about you specifically. But—there’s no way for Dragon and High Halls to combine that isn’t political. Explosively political. On your own, you can survive more than any of the rest of the cohort—or me. But you won’t be on your own. The cohort won’t abandon you.”
It was the Dragon’s turn to snort.
Kaylin reconsidered her words and chose better ones. “Most of the cohort wouldn’t abandon you. Annarion wouldn’t. Mandoran wouldn’t. I don’t believe Allaron would either, from what I’ve seen. And you know what the cohort is like. The minute one of them enters combat to save you, they’re all going to rush in. It doesn’t matter if they’re there for your sake or their friends’; they’ll be there. But this is political, and anything political is far above my pay grade.”
“You don’t seem to find this insulting.”
“I consider it one of the biggest advantages of my rank. Which is the lowest rank I could be given and still be called a Hawk.”
“One of? What’s another one?”
“I’m not in command. I don’t need to make decisions that might cost the lives of other Hawks. No matter what happens in an action, large or small, I won’t have their deaths on my hands.”
“But you don’t like being a private.”
“Well, I could be a corporal, and it would still be mostly true. And the pay is higher.”
“It’s not much higher,” a familiar voice said. It was Mandoran’s. Of course it was. Kaylin didn’t miss a step.
“I don’t suggest you try to enter the Halls of Law looking like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like thin air.”
“Oh. That.” Mandoran caused other people some consternation as he materialized to the side of Kaylin that Bellusdeo wasn’t occupying. To be fair, most of the street didn’t notice; people always had their own problems and their own schedules. “I was going to follow Teela into the office, but Teela’s not heading there directly.”
“So you followed us?”
“Not most of the way, no. I decided to head straight here to wait, but I caught up because you’re doing the Hawk-walk.” He glanced at Bellusdeo. “For what it’s worth, I think insisting on your presence on the inside of the High Halls is suicidal.”
“Oh?” The Dragon’s voice was cool. “For who?”
Mandoran grinned. “Mostly Kaylin.”
Kaylin watched as flecks of gold appeared in Bellusdeo’s eyes. Mandoran had, once again, managed to set Bellusdeo at ease. Kaylin wondered if that was why he’d chosen to speak when he had. He never treated the Dragon with respect; had the Emperor been present for most of their spats, she wasn’t certain Mandoran wouldn’t be a pile of bleeding ash. Well, ash, because ash didn’t bleed, but still.
“You left the rest of the cohort behind?” Kaylin asked.
“We had a vote, and Helen decided it was safest to send me.”
“She was the tie-breaker?”
“Ah, no. She didn’t consider the first choice viable. But— we can all see what I see anyway, so unless there’s an attack, having more than one person here is superfluous. If Teela had been coming directly to the office, someone would have followed Teela.”
“Not you?” Bellusdeo asked.
“I had to live with Tain for a few years. Compressed into a few weeks, I might add. He’s stuffy and remarkably straightforward. Also, he hates fun.”
“He hates mess,” Kaylin said, as they approached the stairs that led into the Halls of Law.
“Define mess. No, wait, don’t. The problem with Tain—at least for me—is that Teela might actually kill us if we’re indirectly responsible for his death. He’s not like the rest of us; we can’t speak to him without shouting, and even if we can, he doesn’t listen half the time. So…it’s a lot less safe to tail Tain.”
“I imagine it’s safer to tail Tain than it is to tail Kaylin if you’re worried about Teela’s reaction,” Bellusdeo said, frowning slightly.
“You need a better imagination.”

Excerpted from Cast In Wisdom by Michelle Sagara, Copyright © 2020 by Michelle Sagara. Published by MIRA Books.

Tuesday 28 January 2020


Title: Thirst Trap
Author: Zachary Ryan
Publisher: Kingston Publishing Company
Genre: Adult, Contemporary, LGBTQ+, Romance
Release Date: 4th November 2019

BLURB supplied by Xpresso Book Tours
Tragedy comes in all forms, and you never know how you’ll deal with it. Four friends have all dealt with their fair share of struggles. Dillion, an aspiring writer with writers block because of his brothers sudden death, Jesse the emotional stunted drink thanks to his boyfriend’s suicide, Ivan the abused victim just looking for a place to call home, and Leo the stubborn romantic trying to get his friends to open up, while keeping his issues close to his chest.

With these four friends, they avoid all their elephants in the room like a death card agreement between Dillion and Jesse, Ivan completely hoping his abusive lover with change or even Leo focusing on his friends problems instead of his own. Can these four friends learn to embrace and accept their own tragedy or will they be stuck in the past?

Thirst Trap is a humorous coming of age novel dealing with sexuality, tragedy, substance abuse, and the most beautiful insane friendships.


Zachary Ryan grew up in a black-and-white box in Maryland, before moving to Chicago to start a new life. There, he found that he was accepted for his misfit status–and learned that it’s perfectly normal to spend your twenties feeling lost and confused.

After a disastrous sexual encounter, Ryan stumbled on a group of true friends, or “soul cluster,” that he connected with. Through his writing, he hopes to help other broken souls out there find comfort amid the chaos.



How do you come up with the title(s) for your book(s)?
I came up with the idea of the book from the ideology of Thirst Trap concept. I will never been associated as a Thirsty Trap, and this was my humorous way of having my name in the same sentence as the terminology. 

What genre would you place you book into?
I would put it as LGBT and coming of age.

Is there anything you would change about your book? And why?
*Spoiler Alert* At the end of the book Leo talks about telling his dad the truth about all the problems in his life. I ended up not having that chapter in there. I felt like it was a good way of keeping the door open that it will happen. I just wish that I added it.

Do you have plans for a new book? Is this book part of a series?
I’m currently working on my 50th novel. It’s my favourite book because it’s all of my novels combined, so I’m ready for it to be out. This book is a stand alone. I usually just do stand-alones.

Which is your favourite cover of all the books you have written?
HighSchool Queens is my favourite cover. It’s legit my campy, bitchy, and sassy. It’s everything the book was all about.

Are there any book covers you would change?
I would change this current cover. I wasn’t the biggest fan of it, but I trusted my publishing company decided on it. I wish it was more of a cartoon style cover.

Do you have a play-list’s for any of your other books?  
Music is a huge part of my writing. It inspires all of my novels, and I’m so grateful for it. It depends on the mood I’m setting for the novel. If it’s a meaningful novel, then it’s serious novel. If I’m doing a sassy book, then I’ll do a campy songs.

Do you have a book trailer? And what are your thoughts on book trailers?
I do have a book trailer, and I enjoyed it. I need to actually post it, but I enjoy that it takes exactly what I wanted to take out of the book for the trailer.

If you had to choose to be a character from Thirst Trap, which would you be and why?
So this book is heavily inspired from my own friendships. Dillon is the closest to who I am. It’s about being lost and dealing with a brother’s death. I lost my brother when I was 19, and  I usually hint at those emotions in the book. I will have to say that this was the first time that I got to put all these emotions in there.

Who is your favourite character from Thirst Trap and why?
Diego is my favourite because I sympathize with him. He is just trying to find his own skin, and I think that everyone is trying to find that for themselves. I wished it wasn’t so hard for him, but he is so incredible that he deserve all the happiness.