Wings by Nicole Conway - Book Tour + Giveaway
I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the WINGS by Nicole Conway Blog Tour hosted
About The Book:
Title: WINGS (Spirits of Chaos, #2)
Author: Nicole Conway
Pub. Date: August 25, 2020
Publisher: Owl Hollow Press
Formats: Paperback, eBook
Pages: 280
The awesome power of the dragon totems is no longer
a secret, but can Koji manage to keep his identity that way?
Koji Owens isn’t just a superhero anymore. With his
fame and reputation as Noxius now spreading around the world, the scaly,
lightning-weilding dragon-boy is struggling to keep his identity hidden as
others clamber to discover the source of his incredible power. But someone may
already know his secret. While Koji is struggling to balance high school and
family life with hero-work, others are watching—waiting for the perfect chance
to strike.
World-renowned historian, Dr. Khepri Nimr, will stop
at nothing to use the totem scales to open a portal between dimensions and
enslave the entire human world to the Kur. The ancient spirits of chaos have
waited for eons to claim our world, and Dr. Nimr’s plot may finally force Koji
out into the open. Desperate to defend his city from the threat of more
otherworldly monsters, Koji knows he can’t win this fight alone. However, not
even Drake, Fyurei, and Oceana may be enough to even the odds this time. As the
dark secrets of the dragon totem scales begin to unfold, Koji soon realizes
that his powers might not come as freely as he originally thought. The price?
His soul…
About Book 1:
Title: SCALES (Spirits of Chaos, #1)
Author: Nicole Conway
Pub. Date: March 5, 2019
Publisher: Owl Hollow Press
Formats: Paperback, eBook, Audiobook
Pages: 300
When New York City faces the threat of an ancient
evil, a teenage boy must use a magical bracelet to transform into a
monster-slaying dragon superhero.
Koji Owens is the new kid … again. As the only son
of an Air Force F-16 pilot, he’s learned to adapt and survive every time they
move. It’s not easy starting over with new friends and schools every two years,
but when the Owens family makes their final move to New York, Koji finally has
hope for a normal high school life—that is, until he finds a strange bracelet
in his locker.
Transformed into a storm-summoning dragon warrior,
Koji finds himself caught up in a world of ancient powers, secret identities,
and colossal monsters threatening to destroy his new home. But these awesome
powers come with strings attached, and revealing his true identity could mean
losing everything he loves. With his family and friends now in mortal danger
and New York City in flames, Koji must find the courage to become the hero they
need and face down an enemy hiding in plain sight.
A comic-obsessed teenage misfit embraces his inner
hero in this action-packed adventure that will leave you ready to get your
scales on!
Excerpt
ONE
Adrenaline roared
through my veins, making my palms grow slick with sweat as I held my controller
in a white-knuckled grip. This was it. The moment of truth.
Sitting on the
floor of the computer lab where the Saint Bernard’s robotics team had their
meetings, I fought to slow my pulse and steady my breathing. I could do this.
No big deal. Only seven hundred hours of late-night practice on my game console
at home and countless cans of Red Bull, Code Red, and Dr. Pepper had led to
this moment—my inevitable victory. I just had to stay calm. Cool. Collected.
Now was not the
time to freak out.
Next to me, my
best friend and current reigning school champion of the new game Alien
BotPit 2: Reign of the Battlemaster, Drake Collins, yawned as he made the
final selections to his mech suit. He always went for a medium armor and ranged
weapon combo. Today, that was going to be his downfall.
“Ready to lose?”
He flicked me a sarcastic grin as he adjusted the color settings on his mech’s
armor to pink. Was that a taunt? Adding insult to injury?
Harsh.
I stuck a hand
toward him to shake. “Honor code—no glitching.”
His mouth
scrunched unhappily, light amber eyes narrowing through shaggy platinum bangs.
At last, he gave a dramatic sigh and shook my hand.
“Agreed.”
“And we’re using
the map randomizer,” I added before letting his hand go.
“Fine, fine,” he
groaned. “Paranoid much?”
“No,” I snapped.
“I’m just wise to all your crap, Collins.”
He chuckled. Or
maybe that was a maniacal, evil genius laugh. I wasn’t sure. “Terms of victory
are: winner destroys opponent’s bot by whatever game-original means available.
Sound fair enough for you?”
“Deal,” I agreed.
“You guys are
seriously lame, you do realize that, right?” Drake’s girlfriend, Tabitha Hunt,
grumbled. I could practically feel her rolling her eyes from where she stood
behind our chairs.
According
to Tabitha, she and Drake had been dating seriously since… right after the
Winter Ball last year. He would neither confirm nor deny that status, though,
and I couldn’t tell if it was because he wasn’t into commitment or he just
wanted to annoy her. Probably both, knowing him.
Whatever they
were, they texted constantly and Tabitha always waited in the hall after
class so she could walk with us. She’d even started sitting with us at lunch
sometimes, plopping herself down confidently right beside Drake. Whether I
liked it or not, Tabitha had officially demoted me to third wheel. Ugh.
At least Drake
had forced her to start calling me by my name now instead of “sneakers guy”
like before. So, I had that tiny bit of my dignity back. But still…
She seemed to
treat everyone like they were filthy commoners in her perfect kingdom. Not to
mention she clearly didn’t understand the significance of video game dominance.
This match was the most important thing in my life. Well, you know, except for
being Noxius, protecting New York, trying to track down my sort-of girlfriend
Madeline, and passing the Chemistry final.
Hmm. Maybe I
should have studied for that instead of playing video games. Hmm. I’d taken
that exam first thing this morning and, honestly, I barely even remembered
going into the classroom. Yikes. Had I even taken the right exam? Oh well. Too
late now.
Tabitha
probably wouldn’t have insisted on hanging around us so much if Claire Faust
was still around, but after the incident at the Philharmonic, things had gotten
complicated for her family. It didn’t take long for the press to get wind of
the scandal between the Fausts and our former school headmaster, Mr. Ignatius.
They took those rumors and ran with them, and suddenly Claire’s terrified face
was on the front of tabloids all over the city with a big bold caption: HEIRESS
TO COMRIDORE-FAUST
FAMILY TO INHERIT
EMBEZZLED CHARITY FUNDS.
Not good.
Things had gone
downhill pretty fast after that. Now lawyers were involved, a criminal
investigation was underway. Some of the online news articles theorized that—if
there was any truth to the rumor that the Fausts had indeed tried to frame
Madeline’s mom for stealing a bunch of money from the Philharmonic’s charity
fund—they could be brought up on some serious charges. Not that any of it was
Claire’s fault, of course. She’d been a little kid when all of that happened.
But the press seemed more than happy to drag her name through the mud anyway.
Bunch of jerkwads.
No one was really
surprised when she didn’t come back to school after spring break. Apparently,
her family’s lawyer had advised her to finish out the year at home by taking
classes online, just in case there were any weirdoes out there with bright
ideas about harassing her while she was at school. Drake thought
she must have gotten threats for the family lawyers to insist on something like
that.
Just considering
that possibility put a lump of raw fury in my throat, like I was trying to
swallow a red-hot piece of charcoal. But I hadn’t worked up the nerve to call
her again. Rotten, I know. But the first time I tried, she hadn’t answered, and
I’d been forced to leave a stammering, idiotic attempt at a voicemail asking if
she was okay. Duh. Of course she wasn’t.
Tabitha still
talked to her some, although their friendship seemed to have cooled
considerably now that they didn’t see each other at school every day. Tabitha
insisted it didn’t bother her, but my super-dragon third eye senses told me
otherwise. Each totem scale, like the one I had fixed to a bracelet on my
wrist, came with a bonus secret power called a “third eye.”
Mine was being
able to tell whenever someone wasn’t being 100 percent truthful. Cool as that
sounds, it sort of sucked to realize how often people lied to me.
For instance, I
now knew that my dad had no intention of ever letting me drive his car in the
city. The art teacher, Mr. Molins, secretly thought my last attempt at still
life painting was horrendous. Oh, and Drake had definitely lost the Dragonball
Z graphic novel I loaned him.
Uuuugh.
Anyway, it seemed
like Claire was distancing herself from everyone, most likely afraid one of us
might turn on her. But, come on, she should have known better
than to think that about me, right? I’d never betray her. Some twisted
thing her parents had done years ago didn’t change anything. Claire was still
my friend, and I knew, without a single shred of doubt, that she was a good
person. In fact, I probably knew that better than anyone.
Well… except
maybe for her fiancé, Damien Blount.
Passing him in
the hall was still painfully awkward—for me, anyway.
He didn’t have a
clue that his supposed-to-be-future-wife was in love with me.
Damien didn’t
know a lot of things about Claire, though. And even if the whole love
thing wasn’t mutual for me, I couldn’t deny that somewhere deep down, I still
liked her a little. Not like in a major way. Nothing like before.
But I couldn’t
push down the rush of furious, protective wrath that rose in my chest whenever
I heard people spreading more rumors about her. That was different, though,
right? Not love. Or at least, not the romantic kind.
Despite all the
rumors flying and the nasty news headlines, it was Damien’s place, not mine, to
defend her honor. Too bad he seemed too busy yucking it up with all his judo
team buddies, laughing and carrying on like nothing had changed. Never mind
that his fiancée was probably miserable, confined to her house like a prisoner,
and carrying a huge secret about how she’d been spending her spare time. If they
were really going to get married, then she should have been able to trust him
with a secret like that, right?
Basically, Damien
was a clueless jerk. I might’ve told him that to his face if not for the fact
that he could probably put his fist straight through my head
with one punch. I liked having all my teeth, so I wasn’t about to start
anything with him.
Tabitha began
whining again. “This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever—”
“Shhh,” someone
else hissed. “If you’re gonna keep whining then just get out.”
We had a pretty
decent sized audience. Most of the robotics team and a few of my art class
friends crowded behind us, leaning into the glow of the screen that filled the
dim computer lab.
“You better not
cry when you lose,” Drake sneered as we both hit the start button to begin the
battle.
“Hey, after I
win, maybe I should run for robotics club president next year. They’ll be
wanting someone with actual battling skills, right?” I fired back.
Whispers and
quiet laughter stirred in the crowd.
“Nah, they want
someone who can actually do math without having to Google all the formulas.”
I set my jaw,
thumbs primed on the joysticks as the loading screen showed beautifully
intricate artwork of the humanoid robots locked in combat. Then the screen
flashed, fading to black before the countdown began.
3… 2… 1…
FIGHT!
The instant the
screen lit up again, presenting us with a map of a rocky, rugged terrain
riddled with steep canyons and cliffs, I whipped my mech into
action. My fingers tingled, flying over the controls as I threw up my perimeter
shield projectors and readied my long-range heat-seeking missiles.
Drake hit the
boosters on the back of his mech, looking to make his first assault. My heart
throbbed against my ribs like there was a miniature man in my chest, punching
me from the inside. My left foot bounced as explosions bloomed on the screen
and the sound of gunfire mingled with the cheers of our classmates.
Normally, playing
video games at school would have earned us all a few days in detention. But
special circumstances prevailed today. First of all, it was the last day of the
last official week of school. Final exams were almost over, so everyone was
just coasting to the finish line—especially if they’d already finished their
day’s exam and had nothing to do except wait for a parent to pick them up.
Second, Drake was the president of the robotics club, so he had his own key to
the lab and could let us in whenever we wanted. Not to mention the teachers
liked him enough to look the other way. And third, we had a lookout outside the
door, just in case.
Couldn’t be too
careful when it came to breaking school rules on electronics.
Locked in our
epic mech battle to the death, I bit down hard against a sudden twinge of
tingling discomfort right in the arch of my left foot. No—not now! I couldn’t
get an itch now!
I squirmed my
toes around, curling my foot inside my stupid, starchy uniform socks and black
dress shoes. It was all in vain. The itch had taken on a life of its own. It
was becoming self-aware, creeping up my whole foot. But if I took my eyes off
the screen or my hands off the controller for even a second, Drake would
obliterate me. Seven hundred hours and me spending every night and weekend
locked in my room like a smelly, soda-hoarding hermit— wasted.
Drake whipped his
mech into an aerial assault with both thrusters at max power. I surged after
him, determined not to let him fall back to optimal range with those long-range
beam cannons. I had him on the run. Perfect.
Just a little
closer and then— Out of nowhere, Drake’s mech changed trajectory, diving down
to meet my bot head-on. I tried to evade, but it was useless. Our mechs
collided, and I flailed to swap weapons over to my close-combat plasma sword.
An instant before
it should have materialized, Drake’s mech began to glow red, then orange, then
electric yellow as though it were growing hotter and hotter. An explosion
bloomed across the screen with a blinding white light that filled the whole
computer lab. Two words faded into view, emerging from a smoky background
riddled with hunks of charred metal debris: GAME OVER.
I sat frozen in
my chair, staring at the screen. No one in the crowd said a single word. What
the heck just happened? Had he… self-detonated his mech?
“We did agree
that whichever mech destroyed the other is the victor, right?” He chuckled
darkly. “I believe the game is mine.”
“You just—but
that—you can’t—” I sputtered, too angry to put together a full sentence.
“It’s called
strategy, Koji,” he purred.
“It’s called cheating!”
I roared, slamming down my controller. “That’s not fair play! Your mech was
destroyed too! It’s a draw!”
The room erupted
into arguing as people began taking sides, converging around us in a shouting
mob. Some agreed with me—self-detonation was a slimy tactic and shouldn’t count
as a win. Others firmly believed I had won since, technically, Drake’s mech
would have been destroyed first and mine, only as a secondary casualty of the
blast. The rest claimed that since the detonation was intentional, the effect
of destroying my mech was all that mattered, so Drake should be the winner.
Despite all the
commotion and Tabitha declaring that we were all nerds who were going to die
alone in our parents’ basements, the buzz of something in the back pocket of my
school uniform slacks made me tense. My normal phone sat on the ground beside
me. This one had a completely different purpose.
Through
the crowd of our friends, Drake met my gaze. His hand darted down to his own
pocket, eyes wide as he gave me a slow nod. We were getting the same call.
Time to get to
work.
* * *
I left first, faking an enraged storm out of
the computer lab and slamming the door behind me. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t
completely fake. But we would settle that argument later.
Keeping a casual
pace, I headed for the stairs as I slipped the sleek, credit-card-sized black
cell phone out of the main fold of my wallet. Drake and I each had one, and we
weren’t supposed to show them to anyone, make calls on them, or try sending
messages.
One missed call
from an unknown number flashed on the screen. No big deal. I wasn’t supposed to
answer those calls anyway.
They were just my
version of a superhero signal—my spotlight in the sky.
No sooner had I
tucked the phone back into my wallet, returning it to my pocket, than Drake
appeared at my side like he’d materialized from thin air. “No message, just a
call,” he whispered. “I checked news headlines.
Unrest in the
Middle East, another missile launch out of North Korea, blah blah blah. Nothing
out of the ordinary, though. Any idea what this is about?”
We kept our
casual pace and our voices hushed as we made our way through the school,
heading straight to the headmaster’s office on the first floor. The secretary
sitting behind the broad mahogany desk looked up at us as we entered, smiling
through the thick, square frames of his stylish glasses.
He was new.
Actually, all the office staff had been swapped out after the whole
evil-headmaster-tries-to-murder-people-and-destroy-the-city incident four
months ago. The uproar among the parents and faculty had been pretty
impressive, but now the dust was settling. The new headmaster had smoothed
things over, and Secretary Josh was a big hit with the moms. That probably had
something to do with his textured, high-fade haircut, obnoxiously perfect
teeth, and athletic physique displayed in tightly tailored suits. Drake joked
that he looked like a version of me from an alternate reality where I’d been
bitten by a radioactive Calvin Klein model. Great.
Josh stood as the
door closed behind us, sidestepping when we passed to lock it. “So, who won?”
he asked.
Someone must have
told him about our gaming match. That, or the FBI had the whole school bugged
so they could watch and listen to everything that went down. Probably that.
After all, Josh,
the headmaster, and several of the custodial staff were all undercover FBI
agents, charged to be our glorified babysitters as we went on about our normal,
civilian daily lives.
“I don’t want to
talk about it,” I grumbled as I crammed my hands into my pockets, glaring at
the floor.
Drake grinned
smugly. “Don’t be a sore loser.”
“I didn’t lose!
That did not count!”
Josh laughed as
he showed us to the headmaster’s office and held the door open to let us
inside. “Good luck, boys.” He closed the door behind us, sealing Drake and me
inside the dimly lit room.
Standing there
made my stomach flip and wrench. I remembered all too clearly the first time
I’d come here and met Headmaster Ignatius. Part of me still expected to see him
appear from the shadows, laughing maniacally and brandishing his golden-tipped
scepter. Fortunately, the only other person in the room was basically the
opposite of Ignatius.
Instead of a grim
cave stocked with ancient artifacts, the newly refurbished headmaster’s office
was painted a soft, soothing blue. The lit bookcases were stocked with hardback
thriller novels, succulents in natural stone planters, and dozens of hiking
snapshots from around the world. An oil diffuser filled the room with the
ambient aroma of lavender and chamomile, and a large oil painting of a rocky
Washington beach hung on the only empty wall.
Agent Carrie
Bates sat behind her desk, her black hair pinned into a neat, no-nonsense bun
on the back of her neck as she flipped through a folder.
She was
young-ish, too—probably somewhere in her late twenties—with a round
face and warm eyes that made her seem deceptively soft and feminine.
That totally
didn’t fool me, though. She was FBI, so I had no doubts that she could have
folded me like a lawn chair and left me in a handcuffed heap on the floor in
about two seconds if she wanted to.
Still, she was
pretty. Her smooth umber skin had a lovely flush of deep rose along her
cheekbones, and her long lashes framed her dark eyes as she looked at us over
the top of the folder. “So? Who won?” she asked, an eyebrow arched expectantly.
I rolled my head
back and flailed my arms like an angry muppet.
“Come on! Why
does freaking everyone know about this already?”
“’Cause I tweeted
it,” Drake replied, like it wasn’t a big deal.
I shot him a
glare. “Stop tweeting about my life!”
Agent Carrie
laughed musically as she put the folder down and motioned for us to sit in the
two open leather chairs in front of her desk.
“Let’s get to
business, shall we? Agent Kirkland just contacted me. There’s a training
exercise planned for this weekend and a request was sent to have the asset
involved.”
My insides
fluttered as I sank into my seat, half excited, half terrified.
Ellison Kirkland
was the FBI agent in charge of handling all the cases involving dragon totems
as well as organizing all interface between me, the
“asset,” and,
well, basically everyone else. Our first few times crossing paths hadn’t been
pleasant. He’d scared the crap out of Drake and me by following us
around New York while investigating the secret identity of a certain
anthropomorphic dragon monster, ultimately arresting my dad when he thought
he’d figured it out. Eventually, when the FBI finally figured out who I was, he
had been assigned to keep tabs on us.
All the other
agents here at the school, Carrie and Josh included, worked for him. They were
a lot more approachable, honestly. They’d asked us to call them by their first
names right off and actually seemed interested in trying to keep our lives
relatively normal.
Well, normal for
an undercover dragon superhero and his tech-genius sidekick, anyway.
“I don’t suppose
you could persuade your… female counterpart to participate?” Agent Carrie’s
voice had a hopeful edge.
I didn’t have to
ask who she was referring to. This was about Oceana—another totem-wielding
dragon superhero like me. She’d been the first to discover me in my own
dragon-form and had taught me all the basics of flying and using my totem right
after I’d found it. We hadn’t gotten off to a great start, but I had no doubts
about where her loyalties were now. Just like I had no doubts about her real
identity beneath that powerful, scaly disguise.
Like an idiot,
I’d let it slip to Agent Kirkland that I knew who Oceana really was. My bad.
Now they were dying to figure it out, and I’d had to warn my dragoness ally to
be extra careful. No way was I giving her identity up, though. She was my
cohort, so I was duty-bound to have her back no matter what.
When it came to revealing that kind of sensitive, personal information—even to
the FBI—that was her choice to make.
“Not a chance.” I
smiled weakly. “She’s not into the whole military scene. Sorry.”
“Do you have any
details about the exercise?” Drake pressed, leaning closer with his expression
the picture of excitement. “I get to go too, right? I mean, I am his
tech expert. And my new devices are ready for an official test.” He’d been
dying to strap my dragon form into some of his weird inventions for weeks now.
Lucky for me, Agent Kirkland had strictly forbidden testing that kind of stuff
over the city. Just in case, you know, it exploded.
“Yes, Mr.
Collins, you’ll be going. Your parents have already been contacted. As far as
they are concerned, you are both attending an invitation-only science camp at
Arizona University this weekend.” Agent Carrie slid the folder across her desk
toward us. “These are the details, as well as the documentation proving the
event is valid, in case there are any… lingering suspicions.”
I snorted. “Uh,
and my dad actually believed I’m going to an exclusive science camp?”
She leaned back
in her seat with a knowing smile. “Of course. The headmaster gave you both a
glowing recommendation, after all.”
I
sighed. As long as it worked, I couldn’t really object. I’d just have to let
Drake do all the lying when it came to what we actually did at this made-up
camp.
“Civilian plane
tickets have been purchased, so you’ll need to arrive at the airport early next
Friday afternoon,” she instructed. “Pack light. The entirety of Saturday will
be spent training, and you’ll be flown back home Sunday. Any questions?”
From across her
desk, I met Agent Carrie’s stare for a second before staring back down at the
folder on her desk. She always seemed to sense my unease, like she had sixth
sense about it. A Koji sense.
I quietly took
the folder and shook my head.
“Nope, all good,”
Drake agreed.
“That’s all I
have for now, gentlemen,” she said as she stood and gestured to the door. “Oh,
but Koji, would you mind sticking around for a minute? I need to go over some
of the notes Agent Kirkland sent for you.”
She was lying. My
third eye gave her away immediately, like a tingly heat in the back of my mind.
Drake and I
exchanged a quick look. Then he nodded and swiped the folder out of my hands
before starting out the door. “Sure. I’ll meet you outside.”
Only after the
door to her office closed behind him and the sound of his footsteps faded did I
dare to lift my gaze to meet hers again.
Sitting alone
before her, I rubbed at the back of my neck and racked my brain for the right
way to bring this up. “I… I just wondered… did Agent Kirkland say anything
about Madeline? You know, like if they’d found any new leads or had heard
anything from her?” I hated how pathetic and scared I sounded. But it had been
four long months since I’d spoken to her. I didn’t even know if she was alive.
My last memory of
her, cradling her limp body in my arms in the bottom of a smoking crater after
her dad basically tried burning the whole city down to avenge her mother’s
death, was still scorched into my brain.
What came
after—how I’d managed to get out of there with my identity and totem scale
intact—I still couldn’t remember. But I remembered the look in her eyes, the
touch of her fingers on my cheek, and the smell of her hair. It put a sting of
fresh pain through my chest, centering around the gnarled, hand-shaped burn
scar over my heart.
I swallowed hard.
“I know it’s complicated and… and you guys probably still want to arrest her,
but…” My voice caught, dying in my throat before I could finish.
“Oh, Koji.” Agent
Carrie’s tone had that hushed, maternal softness—
like someone
comforting a frightened child—as she stepped quickly around her desk to crouch
in front of me. She put a hand on my arm. “No. We still don’t
know where she is. Agent Kirkland has chased down hundreds of leads worldwide,
but Madeline’s a ghost. Someone trained her well, and I doubt we’ll find her a
single second before she wants us to.”
Well, at least
she was telling the truth about that.
I worked my jaw,
trying not to let that little spark of annoyed anger go nuclear. They still
believed Madeline was a threat, even though I knew she wasn’t. Maybe she had
fought alongside her dad, at first. In the end, though, she’d come around.
She’d been the one to bring his big monster down, and she had knocked the
scepter from his hand, ending our final fight. Madeline had saved New York—not
me.
“I miss her,” I
heard myself admit in a broken voice.
“Of course you
do.” Agent Carrie gave my arm a reassuring squeeze.
“Just between you
and me, I don’t think you’ve seen the last of her.”
“You really mean
that?”
The corners of
her eyes creased slightly as her lips curved into a secretive little smile.
“Call it woman’s intuition. She’ll be back.”
All I could do
was bob my head. It hurt too much to try to talk about it, even to Drake.
Besides, it’s not like he could relate. He and Tabitha had their own version of
a normal dating relationship going strong. They talked every day. Sometimes, if
she forced it, they even held hands in the hall.
I would’ve killed
for just a tiny taste of that with Madeline. To hold her hand. To take her out
somewhere for dinner. To sit and watch a movie together. To kiss her again.
“For now, let’s
just worry about the things we can control, okay?”
Standing again,
Agent Carrie tipped her head toward the door. “Now, you get out there and
demand a rematch because that stunt Collins pulled was definitely
cheating.”
I managed a
hoarse laugh. “You think so?”
“Oh, without a
doubt.” She grinned. “We’ll be in touch. Good luck next weekend, Koji.”
About Nicole:
Nicole Conway is originally from North Alabama and
attended Auburn University. She is happily married and enjoys writing as a full
time career.
Best known for her international bestselling fantasy
series, THE DRAGONRIDER CHRONICLES - Nicole is currently working on a follow-on
series, THE DRAGONRIDER LEGACY. Her other published works include MAD MAGIC,
THE DISTANCE BETWEEN STARS, SCALES (Releasing Spring 2019), and RENEGADE RUNNER (2021).
Nicole is represented by Fran Black of Literary Counsel.
Giveaway Details:
2 lucky winners will win a finished copy
of WINGS, US Only.
Tour Schedule:
Week One:
9/7/2020
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Excerpt
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9/8/2020
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Excerpt
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9/9/2020
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Excerpt
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9/10/2020
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Excerpt
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9/11/2020
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Excerpt
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Week Two:
9/14/2020
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Excerpt
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9/15/2020
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Instagram Post
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9/16/2020
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Excerpt
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9/17/2020
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Review
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9/18/2020
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Review
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1 Comments
Very nice cover. I like the magical genre and the fact that it is part of a series. Thanks for the chance.
ReplyDeletePlease try not to spam posts with the same comments over and over again. Authors like seeing thoughtful comments about their books, not the same old, "I like the cover" or "sounds good" comments. While that is nice, putting some real thought and effort in is appreciated. Thank you.