Welcome to my stop on the Holy Hell Book Tour.
This fun tour celebrates the release of author Viola Ryan’s debut novel! I absolutely loved this book, a totally unique take on a tried and true genre! You can read my review of it here.
Read on to learn more about this great book and it’s author, who graciously is guest posting! And be sure to enter the giveaway, too!
The entire tour list is here.
About the Book
Lucifer is fed up with humanity. He created hell to deter evil, but man’s inhumanity is only escalating. He just wants to return home to heaven, but ever since that little problem in the Garden of Eden, the Pearly Gates remain firmly shut to him. It doesn’t help that he’s the first vampire, an abomination in God’s sight.
Fortunately, two thousand years ago Lucifer’s estranged brother, Jesus, gave him a prophecy. To fulfill it, all Lucifer has to do is find the right artist, study her artwork and the path back to heaven will be revealed. The artist even bears a symbol so he knows who she is. Too bad she is murdered every time he finds her.
Janie’s a frustrated artist and college art teacher who wants two things—a guy she can show her paintings to and a night without nightmares. Each nightmare plagues her until she paints it. She doesn’t realize these paintings are key to unlocking her destiny, one that could redeem the original fallen angel.
“Je ne suis pas une sorcière!” Janie screamed to her empty apartment. “Arrêtez, s’il vous plaît! Je ne suis pas une sorcière!”
How was she going to get them to see she wasn’t a witch? How could she get them to stop? Tears streamed down her face, but they couldn’t put out the flames existing only in her dream.
Fire laps at her feet, but the air above it already scorches her inside and out. Sweat pours off her, but quickly evaporates and brings no relief.
She coughed, trying to bring her hand to cover her mouth, but she couldn’t move.
Soon the ropes binding her will burn away. Maybe they’re weak enough.
She squirmed in her bed until she fell on the floor.
“Oww.” Her eyes popped open, and she rubbed her head. That was going to leave a nasty bump.
Her pale pink sheet was twisted around her legs and damp from the sweat pouring off her. She kicked free.
After a few moments of squinting, only silhouettes were visible. A deep inhalation revealed nothing burning, especially no smoldering flesh. She crawled over to the door and hit the light switch.
A quick examination revealed her pale hands still shaking, but they weren’t singed. Another night, another nightmare. Of all the recurring dreams, this was the worst. The most vivid, the most painful, the most terrifying.
It was just a nightmare. If only she could believe that. Nightmares were one thing, but these were in 3D surround sound. Worst of all she felt everything. Every sensation. Every emotion.
She stared at the phone. Maybe Cyndi was right and she should call Dr. Vessen tomorrow. She smacked her head against the wall. She couldn’t call her. Tomorrow was Saturday. Besides, She’d left her card at school.
No. Dammit. She could handle this on her own. She had to. If she didn’t, what did that make her? God helps those who help themselves. That’s a nice way to say God doesn’t help. He certainly didn’t help her parents. Hell, he didn’t even help Jesus.
Buy it: Kindle | Nook | Kobo | Smashwords | MuseItUp Publishing
Add it: Goodreads | Shelfari
Hell and the Heroine
by Viola Ryan
It’s easy to focus a Holy Hell tour on Lucifer, after all he created it, but the heroine’s life hasn’t been easy. They aren’t called night terrors for nothing.
Janie has always had nightmares, but when her parents died a decade ago, things got dramatically worse. They became too vivid to call dreams. They were more like memories. They say you can’t hurt in your dreams. Whoever they are, they are wrong. They say if you die in your dreams, you’ll never wake up. Again, they are wrong. That’s all she dreams about, death, both others and hers. She is surrounded by it. Then she dies. She’s been stabbed, hanged, shot, burned alive, smothered, drowned, decapitated and even buried alive.
It can be different cultures, different times, but she always dies. She understands every word spoken, even in languages she doesn’t speak. Doing research on these times and languages to make them as accurate as possible took a lot of time, but I didn’t want to be debunked like what happened with The DaVinci Code.
What makes things worse is that is all she is able to paint. She doesn’t paint people dying. Instead things manifest as a sacred place desecrated by blood and violence, such as a temple where the walls are bleeding and the statuary is broken. Art is a mirror to the artist’s soul. Hers is battered and broken.
Janie doesn’t realize these paintings are key to unlocking her destiny, one that can redeem Lucifer.
About the Author
A very good friend of Viola Ryan in high school said, “You don’t think outside the box. You blow the thing up.” Sometimes boxes need exploding. That’s why she’s here. She has a whole bag of C4 and isn’t afraid to use it. She’s blessed with people who treasure her eccentricities or at least put up with them.
Sometimes the box can be a cozy place. Without some sort of stability, her two daughters’ and her life would be unmanageable. That stability comes from her husband. He’s the rock holding her family together.
On the flip side, his career is anything but stable. He’s a Chief Marine Safety Technician in the US Coast Guard. They’ve lived from Kittery, Maine to Yorktown, Virginia. Fortunately, the moves have all been on the east coast. Then again, the Coast Guard tends to guard the coast.
Her oldest daughter (15) was born on Cape Cod, not far from Plymouth. Massachusetts. Her youngest (12) was born in Yorktown, Virginia, down the road from Williamsburg. Viola jokes they’re doing the colonial America tour.
More of the author: Viola Ryan | Blog | Facebook | Goodreads | Pinterest | Amazon
In addition to this giveaway, the author will also be giving away a swag pack from Book Worm Bags to one commentator!
Thanks for having me. I’m having a blast visiting everyone. Feel free to ask me anything.