Monday 6 March 2017

Blog Tour Spotlight & Giveaway - Tut: My Epic Battle to Save the World by P.J. Hoover

Tut: My Epic Battle to Save the World
Author: P.J. Hoover

Book Description:
Tut: My Epic Battle to Save the World by P. J. Hoover is the second action-packed novel in a fast and funny series for young readers about the adventures of King Tut, now an immortal eighth-grader living in Washington, D.C.. This rollicking fantasy adventure begins with Tut: The Story of My Immortal Life.

Tut sets out to find his brother and protector, Gil, who has gone missing from their Washington, D.C., town house. Tut discovers that Gil is being held prisoner by the Egyptian god Apep. With the help of the Sun god, Ra, Gil managed to vanquish Apep thousands of years ago, and now the god is back for vengeance. It’s up to Tut and his friends Tia and Henry to stop Apep before he succeeds in his evil scheme to swallow the sun and plunge the world into darkness forever.

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“Hoover (Solstice) brings her interest in mythology to a middle-grade audience with this entertaining tale, which reimagines the Egyptian pharaoh Tutankhamun as a perpetually 14-year-old immortal…The entertaining premise and fast pace keep this adventure on track, while the way Hoover reimagines the Egyptian pantheon—Isis owning a chain of funeral parlors, for instance—is pleasantly reminiscent of Rick Riordan’s work.” —Publishers Weekly

“Being an immortal 14-year-old pharaoh isn’t all scepters and servants; there’s also the overthrowing of a homicidal cult—and finishing one’s homework…Merging the voice of an outspoken contemporary 14-year-old with centuries-old expletives (“Holy Amun!”) renders Tut both comedic and devoted to his origins…A pyramid history buffs and fantasy fans will delight in excavating.” —Kirkus Reviews

“[R]eaders will be pulled into this adventurous story of the young boy ruler and his ordeal….it quickly becomes a fast-moving adventure with surprising twists. The ending is satisfying, with a hint that a sequel may be in the works. The author provides historical notes about the real King Tutankhamen, which may spark an interest in learning more about Egyptian History. Fans of Rick Riordan’s “Percy Jackson and the Olympians” series (Hyperion) will surely enjoy this title. A fine purchase for libraries where historically based adventures are in demand.” —School Library Journal


Where We Meet the Worst Bouncers in the Universe

We waited until it got dark, which weirdly was way earlier than it should have been. It was summer and the sun should have been setting close to eight thirty, but it was only seven o’clock when the sun dipped below the horizon. I wanted to ask Horus about it, but he sat out on the fire escape, watching the sky, watching the birds, hissing low under his breath. In the last few days he hadn’t even mentioned Bast, his cat god girlfriend. Something was definitely wrong.

One of the shabtis cleared his throat, so I looked down. There stood Colonel Cody, next to my gym shoe.

“Respectfully, I must disagree with this plan,” Colonel Cody said. “Your possibly immortal friend and you should not seek out the heathen.”

Henry quirked up his face, I guess trying to decide if this was an insult or not.

“Of course we should look for Gil,” Henry said. “We can’t just sit here doing nothing.”

“Yes, I see the argument,” Colonel Cody said. “But it’s bad enough that great Tutankhamun has the heathen’s heart.”

“What do you mean, bad enough?” I asked. “Is this about the incense again?”

Colonel Cody shook his head frantically. “Of course not.” But I knew it was. I was going to have to find a way to keep the shabtis from trying to cleanse me anymore. Earlier today the shabtis had begged me to let them do some sort of oatmeal scrub cleansing thing. I’d said no, but to tell you the truth, I was tempted to say yes. It sounded like the perfect way for a pharaoh to be pampered.

“We’re looking for Gil,” I said. Henry, I knew, was with me. We’d been through enough together already. And the shabtis . . . they’d do what I asked, even if it didn’t make them happy.

Henry and I headed out of the townhouse, three shabtis in tow. There was no way Colonel Cody was going to let me go to a heathen night club without him. Even though I knew exactly where we were going, Colonel Cody took charge of the whole operation, searching the streets before he would let us follow. Gil didn’t have anyone to watch out for him like the shabtis watched out for me. And with each day that went by—each hour—I was more certain he was in trouble. Serious trouble. I had to make sure he was okay.

After a couple covert detours suggested by Colonel Cody, we finally came to the place under the bridge in Georgetown where the Bayou club used to be. The whole area was pitch black and boarded up. If the painted B hadn’t still been visible above the door, I would have sworn we were in the wrong place. But this was where Thoth had told us to come.

Colonel Cody bowed low. “It would be my greatest desire to scout out the club for you ahead of time. Defeat possible foes.”

My heart hummed with the anticipation of what was ahead. I had enough energy to fight a herd of angry elephants with my bare hands. Gil could be here, in this club.

“It’s fine,” I said to the shabti. “In fact, it’s best for you guys to wait out here.”

His face remained deadpan. “Certainly you jest, Great Pharaoh.”

I glanced around to see if anyone had heard the great pharaoh thing, but there was no one nearby except Henry. The people who’d been here watching Thoth paint yesterday were long gone. Actually Thoth’s Sumerian graffiti was gone, too. City officials must be cracking down.

“Not kidding,” I said. “We aren’t sure what we’ll find inside.”

“Precisely why we should accompany you,” Colonel Cody said. He snapped his fingers and Majors Rex and Mack stepped forward, arms crossed over their chest. They each wore a small sword and a bow and arrows slung across their backs.

“Not this time. Just wait out here.” And then I stepped forward, around the shabtis.

Henry and I walked to the boarded up door. There was no movement and not a single light that I could see.

“You think it’s the right place?” Henry said.

There was no doubt that the symbol above the door matched the one Thoth had painted on my coffee table.

“It has to be.” I reached up to yank the piece of wood off the door. But my hand passed right through it.

“It’s an illusion,” Henry said. He shoved his hand in and out, testing it.

I didn’t have time for games. This was the way in. I took a deep breath and stepped through.

It was pitch black. Deathly quiet. All I could hear was something breathing, slow breaths, almost like a soft snore. My scarab-heart sensors went into high gear, but I took another step forward because Henry followed me in. Whatever was ahead, I wasn’t backing away. Gil had some kind of connection to this place, and I needed to find Gil before it was too late.

I raised my finger to my lips so Henry would know to be quiet, but right then my cell phone buzzed with an incoming text message. It was the worst possible timing in the world.

Something moved in the darkness.

“Watch out!” I said, but it was too late. Whatever was hiding in the dark landed on me, knocking me flat on my stomach and squashing me underneath it. My arms were pinched behind me. The thing had come out of nowhere.

Correction. Things. I discovered there was more than one when I let the light escape from my scarab heart. I turned my head to look over at Henry. He, too, was pinned to the ground, except he was face up and could see his attacker—which made his situation all the worse.

A giant scorpion sat on top of Henry.

“What is this thing?” Henry called.

“Push it off!” I twisted my arms around over my head, breaking the grip of the scorpion. I rolled out from under it and got the great idea to make vines grow from the ceiling, but when I tried—when I summoned the immortal god-given energy that Osiris had granted me—nothing happened.

Curse the gods. Why wouldn’t my powers return?

About the Author
P. J. (Tricia) Hoover wanted to be a Jedi, but when that didn’t work out, she became an electrical engineer instead. After a fifteen year bout designing computer chips for a living, P. J. decided to start creating worlds of her own. She’s the author of Tut: The Story of My Immortal Life, featuring a fourteen-year-old King Tut who’s stuck in middle school, and Solstice, a super-hot twist on the Hades/Persephone myth. When not writing, P. J. spends time with her husband and two kids and enjoys practicing kung fu, solving Rubik’s cubes, watching Star Trek, and playing too many video games.

Photo credit: Sam Bond Photography.

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5 Copies of Tut: My Epic Battle to Save the World (Tut: My Immortal Life #2) by P.J. Hoover.
Giveaway is open to International. Must be 13+ to Enter.

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