DESTROYED Blog Tour: Excerpt

I’m excited to a be part of the blog tour for Madeline Dyer’s latest release, Destroyed! I’ve already read the first two books in the series — the excellent Untamed and Fragmented — and I’m currently reading the third book, Divided.

The finale of her YA dystopian fantasy Untamed series went live on Nov. 20, and I’m pleased to share an excerpt.

Enjoy!

 

“They’ve ruined it,” Corin whispers. “Why?”ebook (1)

“Because that’s what the Enhanced do.” My voice is soft. Or maybe it was the destruction that did it. The destruction I caused.

I take a deep breath and look at what’s left of Nbutai.

“What do we do?” Corin asks. His face is flushed with heat and sweat, but the coming air will be icy—I just know it will. Corin takes a step closer. “Sev?”

Something cracks high above me, and I freeze, look up: soot and debris, and a large rock. It falls a hundred yards away. Dust plumes up, reaches us, and we all turn, our backs to it.

My dog howls again.

“We have to stay here,” Taras yells, his voice coarse as he and Jana join us. “There’s going to be another storm, but that hut over there looks okay. There must be some game around here too. We need to find food, rest a bit—properly, before we travel to the Tareskl Peninsula and find my people.”

“Your people?” Corin says.

“Of course. They have been left unprotected, with no Seer.” He glances at Jana. “Your people too? Are you their only Seer? How many are in your group?”

Every muscle in Jana’s forehead visibly tightens, and her eyes narrow. “Talking of people we will never see again is pointless.”

“But we will see them again,” Taras says. “They are your family, we will look for them.”

“I have no family. Not anymore.”

“Why?” Esther asks. “You don’t know they’re dead.”

Jana kicks at the ground. “Some of them deserve to be.”

I inhale sharply and glance at the others. They all look at me, then each other.

A strange silence radiates from Jana as she folds her arms, and then the five of us are moving, and it’s like we’re all pretending Jana didn’t say that. Because why would she? What could they have done?

 

Pick up your copy of Destroyed (and the other three books in the series) here:

Amazon  |  iBooks  |  Kobo  |  Nook  |  Google Play 

 

About Madeline Dyer
30591626_2044993659121645_3880142398021435392_n (1)Madeline Dyer lives on a farm in the southwest of England, where she hangs out with her Shetland ponies and writes young adult books—sometimes, at the same time. She holds a BA Honors degree in English from the University of Exeter, and several presses have published her fiction. Madeline has a strong love for anything dystopian, ghostly, or paranormal, and she can frequently be found exploring wild places. At least one notebook is known to follow her wherever she goes.

Copy of Copy of July 11, 2017 (1)

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SNIPPET: Life at the Speed of Time

This is the first chapter of my short story, “Life at the Speed of Time,” which is featured in the anthology Cracks in the Tapestry, which was released last month. It’s the first Cracks in the Tapestry coveranthology I’ve been a part of, and this story was a lot of fun to write. Enjoy!

The steering wheel shaking in my hands is actually soothing.

It distracts me from the bead of sweat running down the right side of my face. It gives me a reprieve from the oppressive heat in the cockpit, a stifling one hundred and forty degrees according to a thermometer placed on my seat. The cooling unit attached to my helmet gave out back on lap 120, not ideal for a muggy day in central Florida. I can barely make out my crew chief or spotter when they talk into my ear, the roar of my engine drowning them out.

But all things considered, I’m having a good race. Daytona has never been my favorite race track; I don’t care for this style of racing. I’m surrounded by forty of my closest enemies, our beasts of speed inches apart as we barrel along the banking so fast we should be soaring into the air. This is all I’ve known my entire life, but even if I’m more comfortable at a half-mile bullring, this place is the pinnacle of stock car racing.

And I’ve led laps today. The car’s fast. But a bad pit stop thirty laps ago has me stuck in 30th. I have nowhere to run. I’m stuck in the middle of the pack, with cars on either side of me. If one of us sneezes, or someone gets an itchy arm, calamity is sure to follow.

The field barrels into the first turn. To the fans, we’re little more than a blur of color. But with my competitors going as fast as me, I can read every sponsor logo on their quarter panels. Freddy Bocelli, who wrecked me going for the win at Bristol last season, is to my outside. He has a new team this year, but the way his left front tire twitches tells me he still hasn’t learned how to hold a pretty wheel.

To my inside is Stan Gordon. No relation and not even half the talent of the Gordon you’ve actually heard of. He’s only in that car because he has a sponsor – his father’s chain of hardware stores.

Don’t get me started.

The banking gives way and we’re screaming down the backstretch. Only a concrete wall with energy-absorbing protection, a catchfence, and a row of billboards separate us from the airport behind the track.

Three wide middle. Three wide middle.

My spotter, Earl Webber. He’s probably staring at my car through binoculars from his perch above the press box on the frontstretch. I can only see but so much in this car: out the windshield and through my rearview mirror. Earl helps me navigate through trouble and tells me what’s going on around me. His information is paramount, especially here where the drivers can’t get away from each other.

Clear high!

As soon as the words leave Earl’s mouth, I jerk the steering wheel to the right. My momentum carries me past Stan, then I find myself passing two more cars. Finally, I’m getting somewhere. Earl’s in my ear again, but I’m not listening as the banking tilts me going into the third turn. Several rows ahead, I see a car jump out of line on the high side, making it three-wide.

No one goes with him, and he loses several positions.

Ten laps to go.

I curse under my breath. Ten laps?! I thought I had more time.

Clear low!

I turn left. The tires squeal in protest, but the car does what I need it to. Coming off the fourth turn, coming back to the start-finish line, I’ve picked up three more spots. I can feel the air propelling my car forward. I can’t see the air, but I can definitely feel it.

But I do see a car in the infield grass, on its roof and on fire. I blink and shake my head. The vision’s gone.

What the…?

I pass another car going into the first turn, but I have to jerk the wheel to the right when my rear tires lose traction. If I hadn’t caught it, I’d have wrecked at least five or six cars. That’s how close together we are. I catch my breath by the time we’re on the backstretch again; at this late stage, it feels like we’re taking forever to race along this two and a half-mile track.

The image of the burning car returns. But this time, I hear the crunch of warped sheet metal. Someone screams. The sky above is a ghastly mix of coal black and burnt orange.

But as I barrel into Turn 3, the image is gone.

“What the…?”

You okay in there, Randy?

Before I can answer Scott, my crew chief, Earl’s yelling in my ear.

The leaders are wrecking on the frontstretch!

Another scream startles me. I cry out and have to corral the car as it swerves back and forth. No one hits me, and I scrub off enough speed that I’m lingering hundreds of feet behind the pack. The scream returns, louder, and when I squeeze my eyes shut, the car on fire explodes. The driver was still inside.

I know because that’s when the screaming stops.

Randy! Randy?!

Other than Earl’s voice, everything is silent. My car comes to a complete stop by the entrance to pit road. My grip on the steering wheel is so tight my hands start to cramp.

Then I open my eyes.

Nearly half the field is wrecked in the curve along the frontstretch, torn sheet metal and roll cages strewn about the asphalt and infield grass. Safety vehicles have already begun approaching the carnage, and some of the drivers have exited their cars after lowering the black netting over the drivers-side window.

Most of the safety crews are heading for the infield grass. When I see why, my heart stops and my stomach drops. In the grass, there is a car, upside down and on fire. The red No. 54 car, piloted this season by hotshot rookie Chase Flanigan.

Randy, you alright?

I yank the cords from my helmet – both the cooling unit that no longer works and the radio. Gritting my teeth, my heartbeat far quicker than it had been when I was going 200 miles an hour, I pull off my helmet, and the neck restraint device attached to it, and head sock underneath. I dislodge the steering wheel from its column, tear down my window net. The six-point harness trapping me in my cocoon of a seat is the next to go before I pull myself out of the car and run toward the wreckage.

No one sees me. The safety crews and ambulances are too busy tending to the wrecked.

Stock car racing is as safe as it’s ever been. To the point where we sometimes foolishly think we’re invincible. Never mind the guy who at this track a couple years ago hit a concrete wall so hard he snapped both of his legs. Or the fact that our most beloved driver had to hang it up, in part, because of head injuries.

But no one’s died in almost twenty years, so…

The fire’s grown by the time I reach the grass. The car’s on-board extinguishing unit must have broken. I push my way through three safety workers, unable to shake the déjà vu. I gulp down air as fast as I can, willing myself not to drop to my knees and hurl. I’ll be sick later. Right now, I have to get Chase out of that car.

“Hey!”

I ignore the safety worker. Once I’m within feet of Chase’s car, the heat pushes back against me like a wall. I cringe and push through it as best I can, shielding my eyes from the brightness. The smoke is black as night pouring into the sky, and I drop to my knees by the passenger’s side. Peering into the window, I see Chase’s eyes wide as they can go through the visor of his helmet. He stares right at me, tugging on his belts. We’re always told to pull those belts a little bit tighter before the green flag waves; right now, Chase needs them to loosen.

Springing back to my feet, I run across to the driver’s side. One member of the safety crew grabs me by the shoulder. I shake him off and point at the fire. “Put that out!”

No… no no no no no!

Not even five minutes ago, I had seen this exact scene unfold. And the first time Chase screams, I freeze. It’s the exact sound I’d heard just moments before the wreck happened. I still don’t know how it started. I imagine TV will be playing the incident over and over again on a loop, and non-racing media will even pick up on it. Train wreck spectacle, nothing more.

But Chase needs to get out of the car before the worst happens.

Reaching in, I tug with all the strength I’ve got. But those belts won’t budge. Cursing under my breath, I turn my head to cough. The smoke is so bad my eyes are watering. I gag and nearly lose my lunch. But a deep breath keeps me from blowing chunks all over the rookie, and I reach in again with both hands.

Still, the belts won’t move.

“Help!” he screams.

Part of me wants to be sarcastic in return, but the kid’s freaked. As he should be. His car’s on fire and he’s stuck in it. The plume of smoke has grown to the point where the wind gust is carrying it into the grandstands. Fans are fleeing, covering their faces as they seek refuge. Some fans have stuck around, either to get photos or to see Chase emerge from the car.

But if I can’t those belts off…

Three safety workers grab me by the shoulders and pull me away.

“No!” I try to free myself, but a fourth worker joins the fray. “I have to help!”

“There’s nothing you can do!” one worker, his firesuit reading Jenkins, shouts. “The car’s gonna blow at any minute!”

I whirl around in anger. “So you’re just gonna leave him there?!”

Jenkins points, and over my shoulder, I see two men in fireman gear drop to their knees. One reaches in, and after what feels like an eternity, both he and the other fireman begin the process of extracting Chase from the vehicle. What’s left of the crowd roars in excitement when Chase’s head emerges from the window, but his shoulders get caught on the damn belts.

Those six-point harnesses are great when you’re in the car. In a situation like this… my stomach falls again.

The four crewmen who had pulled me from Chase’s car grab me and yank me back again. We retreat to pit road and leap over the wall separating the crews from their pit stalls, and I don’t know why. I trip over the wall and grunt, scraping my hands on the pavement. When I turn around to yell at the crewmen, I don’t see them. Because they ducked.

Then Chase’s car explodes.

He had only been halfway extracted. Both he and the two firemen trying to rescue him are engulfed in the fireball. Fans scream in horror. Fellow drivers fall to their knees on the track.

And I throw up all over a set of unused Goodyears.

 

Like what you read? Check out the rest by picking up your copy of Cracks in the Tapestry, available on Amazon in Kindle and paperback editions! The anthology also features work from Leslie Conzatti, Arthur David, C. Scott Davis, Benjamin D. Pegg, R. Eric Smith, and Lorna Woulfe.

 

About J.D. Cunegan
J.D. Cunegan is known for his unique writing style, a mixture of murder mystery and superhero epic that introduces the reader to his comic book-inspired storytelling and fast-paced prose. A 2006 graduate of Old Dominion University, Cunegan has an extensive background in journalism, a lengthy career in media relations, and a lifelong love for writing. Cunegan lives in Hampton, Virginia, and next to books, his big passion in life in auto racing. When not hunched in front of a keyboard or with his nose stuck in a book, Cunegan can probably be found at a race track or watching a race on TV.

Follow J.D. on FacebookTwitter, and Goodreads, and you can also become a Patron.

The ACTUAL Most Wonderful Time of Year

Don’t let Big Christmas (TM) tell you different: November is the most wonderful time of year for us writers.

Why?

National Novel Writing Month, of course.

National Novel Writing Month — or NaNoWriMo (or for those of us with really lazy fingers, simply NaNo) — is a challenge: write 50,000 words in 30 days. Is it insane? Maddening? Pull-out-your-hair frustrating? Absolutely. But it’s also a blast, a great way to establish the habit of writing daily — and if you’re really fortunate, NaNo will let you lay the foundation for a future published work.

Don’t believe me? Well, Bounty was my 2014 NaNo project. In 2015, I used NaNo to write Behind the Badge. In 2016, Notna was my 50,000-words-in-30-days bright idea.

Last year, I used NaNo to write Betrayed.

This year? I’m going to use NaNo to… write Betrayed. Again.

Betrayed has not been kind to me.

Not that you have to write something worth publication for NaNoWriMo. All you have to do is write. For you math majors, 50,000 words in 30 days amounts to about 1,667 words a day. Doable, so long as you avoid such things as writer’s block and real life.

But let me dispel a myth: we do not crank out our 50K and then hit “Publish” on Dec. 1. That’s not what NaNo is, that’s not what NaNo is about — and anyone who does do that has no idea what being a published author truly entails. NaNo is less about the finished product and more about doing away with the excuses and the road blocks and write.

In fact, most of us who reach the 50,000-word mark — who “win” — still have story to tell.

Even if you don’t reach the 50,000-word goal, simply getting in the habit of putting words on the page, of letting yourself tell your story, is intensely gratifying. Even if November only yields 20,000 words, just think: that’s 20,000 more words than you had at the beginning of the month.

Which, ultimately, is the whole point.

You can learn more about NaNoWriMo here. If you’re taking part this year, and you’re on the lookout for writing buddies, feel free to add me. I’m on there under my pen name.

 

About J.D. Cunegan
J.D. Cunegan is known for his unique writing style, a mixture of murder mystery and superhero epic that introduces the reader to his comic book-inspired storytelling and fast-paced prose. A 2006 graduate of Old Dominion University, Cunegan has an extensive background in journalism, a lengthy career in media relations, and a lifelong love for writing. Cunegan lives in Hampton, Virginia, and next to books, his big passion in life in auto racing. When not hunched in front of a keyboard or with his nose stuck in a book, Cunegan can probably be found at a race track or watching a race on TV.

Follow J.D. on FacebookTwitter, and Goodreads, and you can also become a Patron.

CRACKS IN THE TAPESTRY OUT NOW

Today is the day!Cracks in the Tapestry cover

Cracks in the Tapestry, the fantasy anthology in which my short story “Life at the Speed of Time” appears, is now live on Amazon!

What happens when the mundane and the fantastic meet? We get Cracks in the Tapestry.

-A former secret agent’s sister return from the dead, bringing with her mysteries surrounding her miraculous return?
-A Reverend takes his message from God to a new planet eager to spread the gospel.
-A NASCAR driver discovers there is much more happening on the track then he ever had imagined.
-A thief must steal her love’s most prized possession.
-A scientist discovers something very peculiar about an archeologist exhibiting odd behavior.
-A newborn siren discovers a man who can resist her song.
-A Sioux warrior must face off against the might of the US Military Remnant to defend his home and people.

Will you peer through the Cracks in the Tapestry?

Cracks in the Tapestry collects stories from Leslie Conzatti, J.D. Cunegan, Arthur David, C. Scott Davis, Benjamin D. Pegg, R. Eric Smith, and Lorna Woulfe.

Pick up your copy here!

 

About J.D. Cunegan
J.D. Cunegan is known for his unique writing style, a mixture of murder mystery and superhero epic that introduces the reader to his comic book-inspired storytelling and fast-paced prose. A 2006 graduate of Old Dominion University, Cunegan has an extensive background in journalism, a lengthy career in media relations, and a lifelong love for writing. Cunegan lives in Hampton, Virginia, and next to books, his big passion in life in auto racing. When not hunched in front of a keyboard or with his nose stuck in a book, Cunegan can probably be found at a race track or watching a race on TV.

Follow J.D. on FacebookTwitter, and Goodreads, and you can also become a Patron.

LEGENDS OF THE GEM Update

So… how is everyone?Legends of the Gem Final (2)

As it turns out, due to circumstances — both related to writing and not — Legends of the Gem will not make its project Oct. 31 release. I hate that I won’t make that release date, but I cannot put together a story worthy of publication and have it truly polished and vetted in time for the original release.

As of now, I hope to have it out in late November instead, but for the time being, I’m not gonna set an actual date (because we see how well that worked the first time).

I’m sorry to delay this release, but it wouldn’t be fair to you guys — or myself — to rush this thing out for the sake of meeting a deadline. And honestly, this is one of the benefits of being self-published; if I need more time (and I need more time — and maybe some scotch), I can take it.

So please bear with me as I put the finishing touches on Legends of the Gem — and in the meantime, you can pre-order the fantasy anthology Cracks in the Tapestry, which will be out on Oct. 21.

Oh, and you can use this time to finish reading Notna. Trust me, you’ll want to.

Again, apologies for the delay, and thank you as always for your support.

PS: I don’t drink scotch.

 

About J.D. Cunegan
J.D. Cunegan is known for his unique writing style, a mixture of murder mystery and superhero epic that introduces the reader to his comic book-inspired storytelling and fast-paced prose. A 2006 graduate of Old Dominion University, Cunegan has an extensive background in journalism, a lengthy career in media relations, and a lifelong love for writing. Cunegan lives in Hampton, Virginia, and next to books, his big passion in life in auto racing. When not hunched in front of a keyboard or with his nose stuck in a book, Cunegan can probably be found at a race track or watching a race on TV.

Follow J.D. on FacebookTwitter, and Goodreads, and you can also become a Patron.

COVER REVEAL: Legends of the Gem

Check out the cover for my upcoming anthology, Legends of the Gem, which will release on October 31! Sarah Anderson once again knocked it out of the park!

The Gem of Notna is history’s greatest weapon. In the right hands, it can protect the world Legends of the Gem Final (2)from virtually any threat. In the wrong hands, it is capable of untold destruction. Having found Earth from light years away, the crystal has helped shape the course of human history, millennia in the making.

A young girl who finds herself as ancient Greece’s savior. Warring factions so separate to end a stalemate that a trusted general does the unthinkable. The Inquisition claiming not just people’s minds, but their bodies. A Union soldier who is convinced the ravages of war have driven him mad. Scholars who believe the gem is capable of more harm than good.

All is revealed, in the gem’s ugly glory.

J.D. Cunegan introduces Legends of the Gem, which takes the lore established in his fantasy epic Notna and builds on it, adding context and illustrating just how remarkable the Gem of Notna truly is.

Legends of the Gem releases in paperback and several ebook formats on Wednesday, Oct. 31.

 

About J.D. Cunegan
J.D. Cunegan is known for his unique writing style, a mixture of murder mystery and superhero epic that introduces the reader to his comic book-inspired storytelling and fast-paced prose. A 2006 graduate of Old Dominion University, Cunegan has an extensive background in journalism, a lengthy career in media relations, and a lifelong love for writing. Cunegan lives in Hampton, Virginia, and next to books, his big passion in life in auto racing. When not hunched in front of a keyboard or with his nose stuck in a book, Cunegan can probably be found at a race track or watching a race on TV. Follow J.D. on FacebookTwitter, and Goodreads, and you can also become a Patron.

Pre-order CRACKS IN THE TAPESTY

Exciting news!Cracks in the Tapestry cover

Cracks in the Tapestry, the first anthology I’ve ever been a part of, is now available for pre-order on Amazon! Cracks in the Tapestry will release on Kindle and paperback on October 21, but you can secure your copy now!

From the book’s Amazon listing:

What happens when the mundane and the fantastic meet? We get Cracks in the Tapestry.

Can a former secret agents sister return from the dead? Bringing with her mysteries surrounding her miraculous return. 
Reverend Josiah takes his message from God to a new planet eager to spread the gospel.
A NASCAR driver discovers there is much more happening on the track then he ever had imagined.
The legend of an ancient warrior who discovers a gift from the gods above.
A scientist discovers something very peculiar about an archaeologist exhibiting 
A newborn siren discovers a man who can resist her song.
A Sioux warrior must face off against the might of the US Military Remnant to defend his home and people. 

Will you peer through the Cracks in the Tapestry

Cracks in the Tapestry collects stories from Leslie Conzatti, J.D. Cunegan, Arthur David, C. Scott Davis, Benjamin D. Pegg, R. Eric Smith and Lorna Woulfe.

My story, “Life at the Speed of Time,” was a blast to write — unlike anything I’ve written before, and the first time I got to work my love for auto racing into my work. I can’t wait for you all to see it.

Click here to pre-order your copy of Cracks in the Tapestry!

 

Official SealBounty has been nominated for a TopShelf magazine Indie Book Award!

It’s a big deal for my debut novel to even be nominated — and there are plenty of perks therein — but if by some stroke of luck I actually win, then there’s no end to the awesomeness that would ensue. Mostly I’m just jacked that someone thought enough of my work to nominate it. That’s pretty damn cool.

Anyway, check it out (and if you haven’t got your copy yet, do so)!

 

About J.D. Cunegan
J.D. Cunegan is known for his unique writing style, a mixture of murder mystery and superhero epic that introduces the reader to his comic book-inspired storytelling and fast-paced prose. A 2006 graduate of Old Dominion University, Cunegan has an extensive background in journalism, a lengthy career in media relations, and a lifelong love for writing. Cunegan lives in Hampton, Virginia, and next to books, his big passion in life in auto racing. When not hunched in front of a keyboard or with his nose stuck in a book, Cunegan can probably be found at a race track or watching a race on TV.

Support J.D. Cunegan on Patreon