Tuesday, April 8, 2014

Liam Davis and the Raven

Liam Davis is a serious journalist, and he’s good at it.

Or at least, he was. Until the chief of Scribe, the campus magazine, makes him give up his politics column to write for the party page —the party page that is problematic for two reasons: One, it threatens Liam’s chance of getting the traineeship with his apathetic father at his prestigious newspaper company, and two, he has no idea what it means to party, let alone how to capture this new audience’s attention!

But Liam Davis is no quitter. He’s determined to prove to his father, the chief, and above all himself that he can do it—and do it well.

Life doesn’t make it easy. Not when Freddy Krueger comes stalking out of the shadows to attack him. Luckily the Raven, the campus vigilante—the vigilante getting hate mail sent to Scribe’s opinions page—comes to his rescue.

Now, between finding the perfect angle for his party page columns and making friends (and perhaps something more?), Liam needs to find this mysterious Raven — not only to thank him, but to warn him to watch his back.

Purchase Link: http://goo.gl/nwBcwe


Pushing up my glasses, I sought Shannon and Quinn, locking my eyes onto them as they started another dance. They moved together with little grace, but plenty of humor, and the force of their laughter travelled to me from halfway across the room.
A strange longing to walk up to them and say hello tickled at me. But a “hello” out of the blue? That was hardly appropriate, was it? They were barely acquaintances. Sure they’d helped me to the hospital, and Quinn had stayed over one night, but they were just being good Samaritans, that was all. I was a tiny blip on their past radar readings, which they’d likely already forgotten.
Quinn hadn’t even bothered to say no to the offer of a room, nor had he said goodbye. I’d woken up to a scrawled note that said I was snoring like a healthy bastard, and that he had a self-defense class to get to. See ya later, and have a good life.
And I hadn’t minded, had I? It’d saved me from having to usher him out, since I’d left early for the library to study. And his loss about the apartment, not mine.
So why did I want to go over there now?
I pulled out the notebook I’d wedged into my pocket and tried to ignore the urge. I wrote down Dylan MacDonald and Beckman Hall, then detailed the multicultural aspects of the party. Pages of notes later, I sought them out again. Shannon finished dancing with a spiky strawberry-blond that let her lead, and fell back into Quinn’s arms.
“Just can’t get enough of this, can ya?” Quinn said, and flinched as if expecting her to—
She whacked his arm.
—yes, just that.
Suddenly, and likely a side effect of the cocktail, I was moving toward them. Maybe it wasn’t so inappropriate to go over. Fact was, Shannon and Quinn had gone out of their way for me, and I’d never thanked them for it. Yes, I should tell them I appreciated what they’d done for me.
I forced my hand off the pen in my pocket and breathed in a lungful of Axe and sweaty air.
I sidled around a dancing pair and, miscalculating my step, bumped into Shannon’s back. I gave her a small smile when she turned. “Sorry—”
“Liam!” She threw her arms around me like we were long-lost friends. She squeezed me warmly, a loose strand of her hair tickling my neck. Over her shoulder, Quinn looked puzzled. Like he was trying to figure out who I was—or maybe just what I was doing there.
“Just wanted to say thanks,” I said to him, still locked in Shannon’s mighty grip.
“No thanks needed,” Shannon murmured and pulled back. A new song started and she swayed with the beat. “You must be quite the party goer. Didn’t think I’d see you again.”
I shook my head and pushed up my glasses. “Not exactly. This is more of an occupation.”
“Occupation?” she asked.
Quinn rested his arm on Shannon’s shoulder, leaning on her, his head cocked in my direction. “He writes for Scribe.”
“Yes,” I confirmed. “The party page.”
Something behind me caught Shannon’s attention and a shadow passed over her face as she stopped dancing and frowned.
“Righty,” Quinn said, pushing off Shannon, his hand dragging down her arm to tug her hand. “I have it in me for one more dance before I call it quits.” He raised his chin at me in a See ya, mate way. Or maybe just a See ya. “Later, Liam.” The green in his eyes flattened. “All the best for finding an angle.”

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About the Author

A born and raised New Zealander, Anyta Sunday has been exploring the literary world since she start reading Roald Dahl as a kid. Inspired, stories have been piling up in her head ever since. Fast forward to her mid-twenties and jump a few countries (Germany, America, and back again), and she started putting pen to paper. When she’s not writing or chasing her kid around, she’s reading, hiking, watching Joss Whedon series, attempting Pilates or curling up with her two cats. Updates on her projects can be found at anytasunday.com.

Author’s Web Page: http://www.anytasunday.com
Author’s Book Page on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/liamdavisraven

 Author Appreciation

Caroline Wimmer  (http://streiflicht-fotografie.de/?project=book-cover-art-anyta-sunday&lang=en) for the amazing cover art! I love how this so wonderfully captures the tone of the book and its setting. 
Teresa Crawford for developing the story and discussing how best to shape the direction of the novel.  

Lynda Lamb for keeping me sane while I took so long to get this one ready, and then for going through and catching all my nasty spelling and formatting errors.  

    HJS Editing (http://www.hjseditingservices.com/) for such wonderful and thorough copyediting and making my characters actually sound American.

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