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Claimed Possession



5 Moons- I absolutely loved it, and highly recommend it!

4 Moons- I loved it! A must buy!

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2 Moons- It was okay, but not my cup of tea.

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Wednesday, July 5, 2017

Interview & #Giveaway: Heart of Stone by James Fant @jamesfantjr

Please help me welcome author James Fant to Full Moon Bites for an interview, excerpt and giveaway! :)

Hi! Would you tell us a little bit about yourself? 

I’m James Fant: husband, father, friend and last but definitely not least—storyteller. I love to travel and learn about history. I recently traveled to Savannah, Georgia by Amtrak. The entire trip was enchanting, from track to haunted trail. And from that experience, I’m pretty sure about three or four novels will soon be birthed.

Do you write an outline before starting a book or just write?

About that…Sure, I use an outline before each novel. Funny thing happens, though. Once I start writing, the plot and characters start laughing at the outline I’ve created. “Is that what you think happens,” they say. “Just keep writing and I’ll tell you what really went down.

Is there an author or book that influenced you or your writing in any way growing up or as an adult?

Eric Jerome Dickey definitely influenced me. EJD is a master storyteller who you really can’t put into a romance box. His novel, Genevieve, one of my favorites, was perhaps the straw that broke the camel’s back, you could say. The novel that sent me over the edge to the realm of wanting to tell my own stories. Stories by JAF (James Alvin Fant). I would also have to add Stephen King and his 11/22/63. Wow! That novel! I’ve read it three times. It’s a long novel but you don’t even realize it.

I know authors get asked this a lot but do you have any advice that you would give to aspiring writers?
Give yourself deadlines. Throw “someday” and “one day” out of your vocabulary. Because if you don’t, if you don’t set hard and fast deadlines, you’ll never get anything done. And once you’ve given yourself this deadline, stick to it. Especially if you’re your own boss. Deadlines are actually lifelines, if you think about it. Don’t be afraid of them. Embrace them and make moves!

Can you tell us, in your own words not the book description, a little about your book?

HEART OF STONE features Oak East, a former bad boy with a past that haunts him and a present that wants him dead. But is that even possible: him being killed? He’s a Deacon of Shalom Bethel and legend has it, that the deacons are invincible. Oak isn’t sure he believes the legend. But he knows that he wants to be a better man. And he’ll do whatever it takes to be better—even if he has to kill.

Where can we purchase this book?

You can purchase the book via the purchase links below:
Barnes and Noble:
Kobo and iBooks:

Can we expect more novels from you in 2017?

Yes. I’m releasing at least two more novels in 2017: A time loop novel about a man stuck in a continuously cycling Labor Day 2001 – September 11, 2001 and Book Two of the Stephen Stone Trilogy, TRIED BY FIRE.

Do you have anything you would like to say to your readers?

To my readers, I say thanks so much. I write to entertain you, brighten your day, take you away to a far-away place. Far from your troubles. Far from your mundanity. To a land of spontaneity and suspense that, hopefully, will make you reluctant to put the book down.

Random Quickies!

Pepsi or coke?
Pepsi…ice cold!

Favorite kind of chocolate?
Milk chocolate

Do you read more than you write?
I do both evenly. I LOVE doing both!

Favorite movie?
Back to the Future (all three)

Favorite book to movie?
The Feast of All Saints by Anne Rice

Crime Fiction
Date Published: 7/4/2017

Purchase Links

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Are the deacons of Shalom Bethel invincible? Legend has it that in the 1940’s, they came out of a gunfight with holes in their clothes but not their skin. Bullets bounced off of them. They walked through buckshots like water. That story is passed down by every deacon. The legend of Stephen Stone. That legend is about to be tested.

On the heels of a nightclub triple murder, a mysterious blizzard hits Shalom, a city normally warm year round. The blizzard brings with it bitter memories and ghosts Deacon Oak East thought were long gone: his prior drug conviction, his on and off relationship with his wife, the gruesome murder of his father and the role he played in it. But it's not just the past that haunts him. In the present, a homicide detective wants him and the deacons for the nightclub murders. And a gangster named Cap Morgan wants revenge. The snow is falling. But soon, it will be raining bullets. Is the legend true? Are the deacons of Shalom Bethel bulletproof?


The crime scene was the handiwork of hardened criminals. Shell casings covered the floor. Blood and bits of brain painted the wall. Three victims lay across a leather couch, bullet holes dotting their bodies. One of the victims lacked half of his head. The left side of his face looked like spaghetti sauce. His right eye socket smoked like over-microwaved meat.
Detective Warren Price cursed under his breath. And when a uniformed officer stepped to his side, he said, “This amount of carnage, and all I’m getting from the club crowd is ‘Man, I ain’t see nothin’!’”
“Nothing on the security cameras either.”
Price cursed again.
“The shooter must’ve come and gone out that back door from the VIP,” the officer said. “The bouncer in charge of that door, a big dude named Sampson, we can’t find him.”
Price lifted his brow. Tapped his chin a few times with his index finger as if giving that some thought. Then he said, “Judging from the splatter and the shell casings, they stood right along here. In a line. Like a firing squad.”
Price nodded. “Oh yeah! Shooters—plural. As quick as it went down, these many casings, had to be more than one shooter.” He looked around the floor. Against the wall and glass opposite the three dead guys. “Only thing I don’t get is where is their blood?”
Their blood?
“Yeah. ‘Cause Curly, Larry and Moe over there got off some shots. Emptied their clips.” He pointed to the casings off to the side of the couch as well the bullet holes and broken glass opposite them. “You think they dodged the bullets?”
The officer shrugged. “Either that or they were wearing body armor.”
Price scoffed. “A triple murder! A triple I’ll never solve because everyone I’ve talked to says—and I quote— “Man, I ain’t see nothin’!
The officer laughed. “I did find a witness says she saw the whole thing go down.”
Price turned to him. Narrowed his eyes. “Well, why didn’t you say so. Lead with that next time.”
“I’ll take you to her.”
Detective Price followed the officer back through the club. Then outside to where a crowd was still watching the scene from behind the yellow police tape. Lights from the news crews brightening the dark scene at Club Pimpin,’ which was a strip joint located ten miles outside of the city. It hid at the edge of a frontage road, cloaked from the interstate by kudzu. No wonder a kill squad could make it in and out of here undetected, Price thought.
The witness waited beside a police cruiser. She wore a bright red brasserie, a black pair of lace boy shorts and nothing more. Price removed his sport coat and draped it over her shoulders.
“You dance here?” he asked her.
Her hands were shaking. Her eyes darting. Finally, she nodded and said, “I saw it happen.”
My lucky day, Price thought…or lucky night, rather. “Come with me,” he said.
He guided her to his Crown Vic and offered her a seat inside. The night air was thin and cool so she obliged, appreciating the heat that shot from the dash vents as soon as he cranked the engine.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Butterscotch.” She rolled her eyes, annoyed with herself. “Beverly. I mean Beverly.”
“Cigarette?” Price offered.
She nodded. Scissored the white stick between her quivering index and middle finger. Price had to steady her hand to light it.
He lit one for himself, placed his pack of smokes back in his cubby and asked, “So what did you see?” When she replied with a cautious glare, he added, “You have nothing to worry about, Beverly.”
“I’m not worried about anything.” Her hands trembled. “Guess I’m still a little…It went down right in front of my face.”
“Okay…okay. Just take a deep breath and walk me through what you saw.”
She took a long drag on the cigarette. Held her breath for a few seconds. Then she released a sky full of stratus clouds into the cab of the Crown Vic.
Finally, she said, “I was dancing for them. O-o-on the table. They were making it rain. Do you know what this means? Making it rain?”
“Yes. I know what it means.”
“Then these men showed up.”
Beverly’s bosom was rising and lowering at a faster and faster rate.
“How many men?”
“Four. Six...I don’t know. It happened so fast.”
“That’s okay. Did you get a good look at their faces?”
She shook her head. “They were all wearing masks.”
“Masks? Good.” It wasn’t good but Price smiled anyway. He wanted to keep Butterscotch talking. “So these men walked in and started shooting?”
“No.” Beverly looked out of the window for a few seconds. When she pulled on her cigarette and exhaled, the smoke curled back and engulfed her face. She didn’t attempt to wave it away. “The guys I was dancing for, they had guns. So they pulled them out, no questions. That’s when I ran behind the bar. If not, I’d be…you know.” She pointed toward the club. Toward three victims who would soon be leaving in black body bags.
“Okay then. What happened next?”
“Well…they started shooting at the masked men…but the bullets bounced right off of them.”

About the Author

James Fant is an award winning author who lives in Charleston, SC with his lovely wife and two hilarious children. He received a degree in biology from College of Charleston and a master’s in business administration from Charleston Southern University. His love for literature was forged by the works of Eric Jerome Dickey, Walter Mosley, and Stephen King. He also finds inspiration from screenwriters Shonda Rhimes, Aaron Sorkin and Kurt Sutter. Literarily, James has always been drawn to intelligent yet imperfect characters and he writes novels with them in mind.
Contact Links

Twitter: @jamesfantjr




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