New Adult Scavenger Hunt

New Adult Scavenger Hunt – Winter 2019

 

Welcome to New Adult Scavenger Hunt! This bi-annual event was inspired as a way to give readers a chance to gain access to exclusive bonus material from their favorite authors and a chance to win some awesome prizes! During this hunt, you not only get access to exclusive content from each author, you also get a clue for the hunt. Add up the clues, and you can enter for our prize–one lucky winner will receive one Kindle book from each author! But play fast: this contest (and all the exclusive bonus material) will only be online for 96 hours!

Winter 2019 Social Media (2)

If you’d like to find out more about the hunt, see links to all the authors participating, and see the full list of prizes up for grabs, go to the New Adult Scavenger Hunt page.

 

***THE SCAVENGER HUNT***

 

Directions: Below, you’ll notice that I’ve listed my lucky book number. Collect the lucky book numbers of all the authors, and then add them up (don’t worry, you can use a calculator!).

Entry Form: Once you’ve added up all the numbers, make sure you fill out the form here to officially qualify for the grand prize. Only entries that have the correct number will qualify.

Rules: Open internationally, anyone below the age of 18 should have a parent or guardian’s permission to enter. To be eligible for the grand prize, you must submit the completed entry form by December 29th, at noon Eastern Time. Entries sent without the correct number or without contact information will not be considered.

Winter 2019 Team

 

LET THE HUNT BEGIN!

 

***Meet K. Bird Lincoln, author of LAST DREAM OF HER MORTAL SOUL (The Portland Hafu #3)***

kirstenatraintaxi (1)

K. Bird Lincoln is an ESL professional and writer living on the windswept Minnesota Prairie with family and a huge addiction to frou-frou coffee. Also dark chocolate– without which, the world is a howling void. Originally from Cleveland, she has spent as many years living on the edges of the Pacific Ocean as the Midwest. Her speculative short stories are published in various online & paper publications such as Strange Horizons. The first novel, Tiger Lily, of her medieval Japanese fantasy series, is available from Amazon. The first book in her debut Urban Fantasy series, The Portland Hafu, Dream Eater, was published in April 2017 by World Weaver Press. She also writes tasty speculative and YA fiction reviews on Goodreads, ponders breast cancer, chocolate, and fantasy on her What I Should Have Said blog and hangs out on Facebook.

I am so excited to share a little bit about the Portland Hafu series and give you an exclusive sneak peek at the third book, Last Dream of Her Mortal Soul. I loved writing this book because Koi and her boys really come into their own power. Koi’s no longer unsure of her power to read dreams. But at home in Portland there’s somebody attacking Kind, and a murder means she’ll have to reach deep inside herself to protect her newfound family.

First, here’s a bit about book one, Dream Eater.

Dream Eater Front

***DREAM EATER***

“With a keen sense of place and a richly textured plot based in Japanese folklore, the first book in the Portland Hafu series shows enormous potential.”
RT Book Reviews

“DREAM EATER brings much-needed freshness to the urban fantasy genre with its inspired use of Japanese culture and mythology and its fully-realized setting of Portland, Oregon. I’m eager to follow Koi on more adventures!”
—Beth Cato, author of The Clockwork Dagger and Breath of Earth

Koi Pierce dreams other peoples’ dreams.

Her whole life she’s avoided other people. Any skin-to-skin contact—a hug from her sister, the hand of a barista at Stumptown coffee—transfers flashes of that person’s most intense dreams. It’s enough to make anyone a hermit.

But Koi’s getting her act together. No matter what, this time she’s going to finish her degree at Portland Community College and get a real life. Of course it’s not going to be that easy. Her father, increasingly disturbed from Alzheimer’s disease, a dream fragment of a dead girl from the casual brush of a creepy PCC professor’s hand, and a mysterious stranger who speaks the same rare Northern Japanese dialect as Koi’s father will force Koi to learn to trust in the help of others, as well as face the truth about herself.

***FIND DREAM EATER ONLINE***

Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Books-a-Million
Goodreads
Independent Bookstores
iTunes/Apple iBooks
Kobo

And now (drum roll please)…LAST DREAM OF HER MORTAL SOUL!!!

Last Dream Front (1)

Isn’t it pretty? The cover designer actually took a real picture of The Witch’s Castle in Portland (OR) where the first murder of the book takes place and incorporated it into the cover! So cool. (and yes, the Witch’s Castle is a real place you can hike to).

Even a dream eater can’t escape the final sleep….

After her trip to Japan, the Head of Portland Kind calls Koi home to help solve a murder. The body of a powerful magical being was found in the witch’s hut in Forest Park, along with a strange, haunting quotation about dreams and death written in blood. Can Koi discover who seems to be calling out a Baku before others from her new-found family die?

Exclusive content for New Adult Scavenger Hunt: Sneak Peek at Last Dream of Her Mortal Soul

The head of the Portland Kind, trickster bluejay shifter Kwaskwi, calls on Koi to use her dream eating powers to help find out who killed one of the Kind. They find themselves at Portland’s Forest Park Witch’s Hut.

Kwaskwi stepped around Dzunukwa’s corpse and entered the Witch’s Castle through the door set into the triangular wall. I followed, my heart beating too fast. There was more? This part of the house was roofless, and open to the elements. Kwaskwi walked to the other side, where a shorter staircase wound down the side of the house to the first floor. Missing a wall on only one side, the first floor was a shadowed large room smelling of damp, mulch and Axe Body Spray.

I coughed, peering into the darkness of the far corner. A white guy about my age huddled in the corner on the floor. His arms wrapped around his bent knees. Only shorts and a red Make America Great Again! T-shirt protected him against the chill. His fingertips pressed so hard into his knees that the nail beds were white and bloodless.

The tip of a blue feather poked from his closed lips.

“Who is this? Did he…is this the person who did that to Dzunukwa?”

“No, not him.” Kwaskwi stepped closer to the guy. Although he didn’t try to get up or run away, Kwaskwi’s presence clearly terrified the guy. His chest rose and fell rapidly, hyperventilating without a sound.

Dread moved in and made itself at home low and heavy in my belly. I closed my eyes for a second, not wanting to see. Not wanting to be here at all. Blundering around with magical Kind and their otherworldly politics was one thing. This was messy and terrible and human. The guy in the corner would send me further along the haunted path of not return, I could feel it.

When I opened my eyes, Kwaskwi beckoned me with a single, curled finger.  “You offered to help three times.”

I was pretty sure that three times thing was bullshit, but it wasn’t like I could confirm that with Ken or Pon-suma. Besides, Kwaskwi was my friend. I settled on my heels next to the guy. His eyes didn’t track. They stayed fixedly staring into space over Kwaskwi’s head. “Hey there,” I said softly.

No reaction.

“I’m not going to be much help getting him to talk if he’s gagged.”

Kwaskwi leaned down. “It’s not talking that you’re here for.”

“How long have you kept him like this?’

“I found him poking around the border of my circle yesterday. He saw something when Dzunukwa was attacked.”

I spread my hands, balancing uncertainly in my squat. “And you couldn’t just ask him? This is what you do to a witness?”

Kwaskwi looked down at me, the hardness of his resolve softening into pity. As if I were a naïve fool who still believed monsters didn’t live under the bed. “A witness who did not call the police. Who stood by while a woman was brutally murdered.”

“Dzunukwa is not by any stretch of the imagination normal. What could a regular old human do when confronted with all….this? To run screaming in the opposite direction is the normal reaction.”

“Don’t let your prejudice against Dzunukwa blind you to the sanctity and value of her life. All life is precious, even an Ice Hag’s.”

“This guy’s life is precious!”

The guy gave a low whimper. Kwaskwi shook himself, letting the scary intensity melt into the relaxed aw shucks persona that didn’t fool me anymore. “He’ll be okay. You do your Baku thing, get me a clue who did this, and we’ll let him go with a dose of Elise’s special Compazine-Zoloft cocktail to make this all feel like a bad dream.”

“This doesn’t feel right.”

Kwaskwi gave an exasperated sigh. “The faster you get dream-eating, the faster this young man can go.”

I stood up. “This is not on me. Even if I touched him there’s no guarantee that I would even see a memory dream. I’m more likely to get a fragment about being naked in class or flying over the Willamette.”

“I have faith in the Baku who has released two ancient dragons from their prisons. I need you to find who did this. Leaving Dzunukwa to the human police is not an option. Help me, Koi AweoAweo Pierce. Help all of us.”

He’d used my full name. A physical tug on my heart made me gasp, as if his voice reached into my rib cage like a fishhook.  I wanted to help him. The sight of Dzunukwa on the stones was wrong. Her corpse ate away my sense of home and safety. She was a powerful, vital being. Something or someone had stopped her life as if it were worthless, a plaything to be used and discarded. If I could do something to stop that person from hurting anyone else, then I needed to do whatever it took.

But not this. Not forcefully dragging a dream from some human guy whose biggest sin was blundering into Kind politics at Forest Park. What if this was Ed? Or Craig-ever-chipper the Stumptown Barista, or Marlin? No, this wasn’t a line I could cross and still live with myself.

“I’m sorry, Kwaskwi. I can’t.”

“You have to.” The angry squawking of jays arose in the trees around the house. They guy gave a a sea lion’s gagging cough.  Feathers dark with saliva and bile erupted from his mouth as his eyes widened with terror.

“He’s choking!”

Kwaskwi curled his hands into fists, piercing me with an obsidian gaze. “You owe me a debt!”

And then Ken was there standing beside me in feral Kitsune mode, lithe, muscular, breathing hard in a fighting stance. “Back down,” he said quietly.

“She has to find out who did this!” Kwaskwi reached for my arm, but Ken was faster, inserting himself between us just in time.

“You risk breaking her!” Ken deflected Kwaskwi’s arm with a downward elbow jab, following through with the motion so that his shoulder ended up under Kwaskwi’s armpit for a judo-style throw. But Kwaskwi drew himself up out of the arm lock and spun backwards.

“You refuse this?”

Tears welled, hot and blurry. It was one thing using my dream eating on Kind who threatened me, it was another to use it on an innocent human. I couldn’t do it, no matter how much Kwaskwi yelled.  No matter if a hot mantle descended on my shoulders and back at the idea of disappointing Kwaskwi, of failing again. “Let me help another way.”

Kwaskwi’s breathing was harsh in the damp quiet. “You are not released from this debt.” He spoke to me despite his full death glare battle with Ken. The testosterone level was so intense that I could smell it.

The guy had finished gagging. Streaks of vomit and feathers stained the front of his shirt, pooling between his feet.  I patted him on his back as his coughing receded. “What’s your name? I’m Koi.”

Kwaskwi hissed in disapproval. Okay, so maybe telling him my name wasn’t the smartest move of the century, but how else was I supposed to break the ice? The guy was terrified.

“What do you want with me? I don’t have much money but it’s yours!” The guy reached behind him as if to pull out a wallet.

“No, no, it’s okay,” I said, trying to pull the corners of my mouth into something resembling a smile. It must have been more gruesome than I’d intended because he blanched and froze.

“Don’t do that…choking thing, please.”

I glared at Kwaskwi. Look what you did. Scared a poor harmless guy. But no, this guy had seen Dzunukwa die and not called the police. I wasn’t willing to force a dream out of him, but we could still ask questions. “Ken,” I said. “Make yourself into an encyclopedia salesman.”

Nani ichatteru wakaranai.”  The Japanese male version of what the hell are you saying girl?

“No one’s going to make you choke again,” I said. “We’re not dangerous.”

The guy gave a little sob.

I made a hurry up motion with my hand at Ken, switching to Japanese. “Look harmless. Tone down the rabid Kitsune look.”

Ken arched an eyebrow at me in his arrogant Spock way, but his features softened. Cheekbones rounded, eyes became wider and set further apart. His pouty lower lip widened into a generous smile. Kitsune magic, illusion that Ken had used on me countless times when he wanted me to trust him.

“Help me get him up,” I said to Ken. Kwaskwi glowered at us from the corner.

When we got him standing, I took a step back. “Look…ah…dude,” I paused waiting for him to fill in his name.

“Brian,” he mumbled.

“Brian. We know you were here when that woman was attacked. We just want to know what you saw. Who was it?

Brian glanced at Ken, bracing himself as if he expected a blow, and when nothing was forthcoming, looked down at the floor.

This wasn’t working.  “We will let you go if you just answer some questions. You can say yes or no, right? Who hurt that woman? Was it a man?”

Brian jerked back against the cold stone. “I didn’t say that. I didn’t say nothing! They said they’d kill me if I talked.”

“Who?” Ken demanded. “Who will kill you?”

“You won’t trick me. I won’t snitch. It’s them or us. Them or us. Blood and soil.”

“What is he talking about?” said Ken.

“This is what happened before,” said Kwaskwi. “That’s why I needed Koi. He just jabbers on and on about this nonsense.”

“Them or us,” I repeated.

Ken went into non-threatening mode, relaxing his shoulders down, leaning weight on one leg, crossing his arms in front like he needed the protection. “Us, we choose us, right Brian?”

Brian’s mouth shut with an audible click of teeth. He shivered. “Let me go, please just let me go.”

“Let’s get out of here, Brian. Before those bad men come back,” said Ken.

Kwaskwi gave a little snort. I waved a hand in front of his face to shush him.

Ken’s Kitsune illusion of softness was having an effect on Brian. His breathing had slowed, and he looked at Ken with hope. “I can go?”

“We’ll go together.”

But Brian wailed, clenching his fists, screwing his eyes shut. Slamming his head back and forth he punched wildly at Ken. I scooted back, mouth hanging open in surprise.

“No! No! You’re one of them. One of them. Like that freaky old hag. You’re lying. Let me go!”

Brian made a break for it. Kwaskwi caught him around the middle before he’d taken three steps. Brian went limp in his arms, sobbing. “Let me go. Let me go.”

“Who was it?” Kwaskwi shook Brian so hard the guy’s teeth rattled.

“The wolves! The wolves. I swear I only saw them.”

Kwaskwi’s grip loosened in surprise. “Wolves?”

“Nordvast Uffheim,” Brian sobbed and then shot away like an arrow.

“He’s getting away!” said Ken, poised to race after him.

“It’s okay,” said Kwaskwi. He took a deep breath. “Let him go,” he yelled towards the bottom of the staircase where Elise stood, a pale figure in her powder blue track suit under the shadows of ancient cedars.

“You know these wolves? What was he talking about? I’ve never heard of wolf Kind here in the Pacific Northwest,” said Ken.

“Not Kind,” said Kwaskwi. He stared a challenge at me, lifting his chin as if daring me to stop the next words. “Human. Human scum killed Dzunukwa.”

***Find LAST DREAM OF HER MORTAL SOUL Online***
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Books-a-Million
Goodreads
Google Play 
Independent Bookstores
iTunes/Apple iBooks
Kobo

And if you haven’t read the free prequel story for The Portland Hafu, where Koi’s love interest, Ken, meets her father for the first time just after World War II, check out Bringer of Death for a free download (signup for my newsletter The Mossy Glen is optional)

 

***CONTINUE THE HUNT***

 

To enter, you need to know that my lucky book number is 7.

Add up all the lucky numbers of the authors and you’ll have the secret code to enter for the grand prize!

To keep going on your quest for the hunt, you need to check out the next author, K. BIRD LINCOLN!

GOOD LUCK!!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s