Title: Dastardly Bastard Author: Edward Lorn Pub. Date: May 2, 2012 Find "Dastardly Bastard":
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When war photographer Mark Simmons is sent to do a promo on Waverly Chasm, he assumes it’s a puff piece, a waste of his talents.
Widow Marsha Lake brings her son, Lyle, to help him heal after his father’s death.
Donald Adams, aka H.R. Chatmon, joins the tour to get away from a sticky situation.
Justine McCarthy consents to the hike to placate her boyfriend, Trevor.
For Jaleel Warner, the tour guide, walking the chasm is just part of his job.
Each of these people must face their darkest memories in order to discover and defeat the secret buried in Waverly Chasm.
MARK SIMMONS WAS SWEATING, WHEEZING, and feeling every bit of his five hundred pounds as he stepped off Corsican International Flight 600. The flight attendant at the gate asked if he was okay when he dropped off his seat belt extender. He waved her off with a limp wrist, staggering toward the seats just inside the departure area. He could’ve bitched about having to buy an extra seat to accommodate his size, but he’d fought that battle, and it never worked out in his favor.
Mark crashed into the plastic chair. The seat screeched and groaned while he tried to get comfortable. His massive rear end flowed over the edges, the steel armrests digging into his love handles.
“Look, Mom!” a little girl squealed. “He’s so fat!”
“Deborah!” The mother offered Mark a soft smile that might’ve said, “Kids say the darnedest things,” before turning to make a call on her cell phone.
The air conditioning from the vent above blew down like a saving grace. Basking in the chilly air, he felt the sweat on his face become gelid. He relaxed back into the hard plastic and worked on his breathing.
One… two… three… four…
He counted his breaths like an insomniac tallying sheep. The routine calmed him. It always did.
Fifteen minutes, and a count of twelve-hundred, finally returned some of Mark’s strength. He still had to walk to baggage claim, then to Hertz, before trekking out into the parking lot to get his rental vehicle. The twenty-hour drive into New York would give him plenty of time to rest. He didn’t need sleep.
He needed the road. When the higher-ups decided there was money to be made in sending their fattest journalist to cover the withdrawal of American soldiers from Iraq, Mark hadn’t refused, thinking maybe the time spent there would expedite a promotion. Four months earlier, before he had left for Iraq, he’d started Weight Watchers with the intention of losing fifty pounds in preparation for traveling to one of the hottest climates on Earth. That diet lasted all of two hours, ending in a refrigerator raid that rivaled the Bay of Pigs insurgency. Fallujah hadn’t been as hot as expected, so the failed diet hadn’t hurt him too badly, but most Iraqis studied him with a cautious glare. Mohammad must have spoken of the evils of fat people because those Muslims skirted Mark as if being obese were contagious.
Mark bent forward, using his belly as a counterweight, and pushed himself out of the chair. His hips caught on the armrests, but the forward momentum couldn’t be stopped, and he ripped a belt loop. Cussing under his breath, he looked up and found the little girl—Deborah, her mother had called her Deborah—staring at him. Her tongue lolled from her mouth, eyes crossed, fingers hooked inside her cheeks. She made one hell of a face. Mark smiled, but instead of contorting his own mug in response, he just flipped her off. The look on little Deborah’s face proved him the victor of their little battle.
It’s the little things in life, he thought as he shuffled toward baggage claim.
Deborah’s raised voice faded in the distance as she told her mother about how the fat man had just “made a naughty” with his finger.
~ * * * ~
Mark waited three hours for his single piece of luggage because someone had packed an ounce of Iraqi’s Finest Kush in her suitcase. Customs had a field day with the twenty-something woman, even dragged her off for a full-body. Mark figured he needed to change his career choice. Feeling up hot young females on a regular basis could serve him well. Being an overweight fifty-year-old with a whiskey drinker’s libido, he didn’t get much play. Sure, Private Johnson still stood at attention, but not for long. Doctor Patel said its functionality was being impaired by his gut. No shit. He couldn’t even jack off anymore. His dick-to-arm ratio was sorely impaired by the girth of his stomach, neither being long enough to reach around his rotund midsection.
Finally allowed to procure his belongings, he moved on toward Hertz. He mentally thanked the inventor of the moving floor contraption. The thing wasn’t quite an escalator—escalators, by definition, escalated—but dragged people along at a normal walking pace across a smooth section of floor. He didn’t know what the hell to call the tank-track looking device. A lazy person’s treadmill?
He overcame his body’s inertia and stepped off the treadmill, almost losing his balance in the process. He caught himself on the chrome banister at the end of the track.
Hertz was off to the left, set back into the wall like a bank teller’s booth. The skinny Goth girl behind the counter looked to be no more than fifteen or sixteen, but Mark settled on at least eighteen, as she would have to be able to sign paperwork for her customers. She had purple hair and a glimmering diamond booger attached to the outside of one nostril. Her black lipstick screamed Elvira.
“Can I help you?” Gothy asked when Mark approached the counter.
“I have a reservation.”
“Name?” she requested, readying her fingers over the keyboard.
She snickered.“Sorry. Customer service humor.”
“Ah.” Mark didn’t get the joke, but he nodded politely all the same.
She asked for his address, license, and credit card information. He gave it all to her and waited until she updated everything before asking, “You do have a minivan, right?”
“Oh, sorry, really, but all I have is a Prius and a Kia.”
“Is the Kia at least an SUV?”
She sucked air through her teeth, whistling through a gap he hadn’t noticed. “No. It’s a two-door.”
“Did you happen to notice how big I am? How I waddle instead of walk? Jesus, if I chanced wearing corduroy pants, I’d start a darned fire. I can’t fit in either one of those cars… Melody,” Mark said, reading her name badge.
“I’m sorry.” She shrank away, smiling nervously.
“Oh, sweet Hey-Zues!” He slapped the counter, causing Melody to jump.
A man with a handlebar mustache, dressed in Hertz garb and looking very serious, stepped out from a door behind the counter. “Is there a problem, Melody?”
“Yeah, because I’m not standing right here,” Mark scoffed. “Mind asking me if I have a problem, Fred?”
Fred put on his best customer service smile and came to the desk. “Can I help you, sir?”
“Yes, Fred. I need a bigger car than what Melody is offering me. I reserved a minivan.”
“The cars are first come, first served, Mr. Simmons,” Fred said, leaning over and looking at the computer. “I should have one back today, though. Right after five o’clock, looks like. Do you care to wait?”
Mark looked at the digital clock behind the duo’s heads and saw that it was just after four. He couldn’t believe it. He’d have to get used to the time difference again, but in reverse.
“I suppose I can wait around for an hour.”
Melody made that sucking sound with her teeth again.
Mark almost reached across the counter to slap her. “Now what?”
“That’s five… p.m.,” Fred corrected.
“Ah, fuck all.” Mark sighed, defeated. “Gimme the darned Prius.”
~About the Author~
Edward Lorn is an American horror author presently residing somewhere in the southeast United States. He enjoys storytelling, reading, and writing biographies in the third person.
Title: The Zombie Always Knocks Twice (Hollyweird #1) Author: E. Van Lowe Pub. Date: Aug. 21, 2012 Find "The Zombie Always Knocks Twice":
Hollywood California, Swimming pools, movie stars… and now the risen dead
Hollywood can be a difficult place to grow up, especially if you’re Kristine Golden, a fifteen-year-old necromancer with a sworn duty to lay the risen dead back to rest and no desire to be in the movie business.
When handsome deadie Alex Romero swaggers into her life, Kris must keep her promise, despite her growing feelings for him. If that’s not enough to give a girl a headache, a murderous zombie comes knocking at Kris’ door, rocking her world and threatening her family.
Can Kris solve the mystery of the rampaging zombie before someone else winds up dead? Or will the walking dead take over Hollywood and turn it into… Hollyweird?
The man coming up the block toward us in the hooded sweatshirt stopped directly in our path, about ten feet away. The hood dropped revealing his face. The hair on the left side of his head had been shaved off revealing tiny bits of bony white scalp. Huge staples held his crooked jaw in place. There was a large indentation in his forehead from some sort of blunt force impact. His left eye was covered with a milky, white cataract, and the right drooped unnaturally into his cheek.
My breath caught yet again. Standing before us was a zombie.
‘LEAVE US ALONE!” the zombie screeched. Then he took off on a dead run and plowed into Alex with the impact a freight train.
Just great, I thought. Hollyweird—where the dead come out to play.
Zombies aren’t what the movies make them out to be—slow moving, brain dead, brain suckers. They’re the result of a raising gone bad. They can be strong, and fast, and very dangerous. Also, a bite from a zombie won’t make you a member of the living dead, although I’m sure it must hurt like hell.
The one that plowed into Alex was almost six feet tall and about seventeen years old. He hit Alex with inhuman force, propelling him backward. They slammed into a parked car that seemed to explode on impact. The twisting metal and shattering glass sounded like a horrible automobile accident. The car was totaled, and Alex was embedded into the passenger side, like a toy soldier into a wad of Play Doh.
“Oh, God!” I screamed.
Alex’s eyes were closed. He wasn’t moving… but the zombie was. He peeled himself away from Alex and the wreckage.
“Zombie!” I called at the top of my lungs. “I command you to tell me who raised you and what you are doing here.”
The zombie faced me, a puzzled look on his distorted face. It dawned on me he hadn’t known I was a necromancer until then—not that it made a difference. He wasn’t bound to me so he didn’t have to answer my questions. I was bluffing.
“LEAVE US ALONE!” He screamed in response. He started for me and a wave of fear rippled my gut.
“I command you to stay back!” I called, but my voice was cracking, my words lacked conviction. I took a few shaky steps backward. The zombie continued toward me.
Just then the sound of twisting metal snagged both our attention. Alex’s eyes were open, and he was separating himself from the wreckage. He shed the automobile with the ease of a snake shedding an old skin. He began advancing on the zombie.
“What’s going on down there?” We all looked up and saw three men, all Johnny do-gooders, running up the block in our direction.
“Leave her alone,” one of them called.
The zombie looked from the advancing men to Alex and me.
“Hhhhh!” Hot breath hissed angrily at us. Then he took off past us like a deer, bounding up the block. By the time the men reached us he was nowhere in sight.
“You ok?” one of them asked.
“Yes. He… attacked us?”
“What the heck happened here?” Another of the men asked. He was staring at the twisted pile of metal that used to be a Buick.
Before I could open my mouth, Alex launched into an explanation. “My girl and I were out for a stroll, and he was taking a sledge hammer to that car when we happened upon him. Guess it was some kind of vendetta. And when he saw us he decided to add us to the list.” The lie flowed from his lips effortlessly.
“Hey, aren’t you on that TV show?” the third man asked.
Alex smiled. “The Beloved. Yes. You watch it?”
“No, but my girlfriend does. She can’t get enough of you vampire guys.”
Any suspicions the men may have had about our presence on the street or Alex molesting me immediately vanished. Alex was a bona fide Hollywood star. I guess they thought all stars were boy scouts. Where have they been?
Several minutes and three autographs later the men were gone, and Alex and I were walking back to the party.
“You told that lie like you do it all the time,” I said.
“I’m a dead person among the living. I do do it all the time.”
That wasn’t what I was talking about, but I didn’t push it. He seemed annoyed. I guess being attacked by a zombie wasn’t an everyday occurrence for him either.
“If it makes you feel any better, I memorized the car’s plate number. I’ll take care of the damage,” he said, his words softening.
“Thanks. That does make me feel better.” I wanted to hold my tongue, but I couldn’t. “So, you have any enemies who’d want to send a zombie after you?”
“I don’t have any enemies. I’m a lover not a fighter.” The annoyance was back.
“Maybe you loved the wrong woman.”
“I’m dead. I can’t love any woman,” he replied. The words were seething with anger or pain. I couldn’t tell which.
“He said ‘leave us alone.’ Who’s us?” I asked.
“I don’t know!”
He was getting agitated again so I dropped the subject. But not without noting there was more to Alex than he was telling me. A vindictive zombie had been set loose in Hollywood. It was something I needed to look into along with the deadie from the diner. My, my, I was suddenly a very busy girl.
~About the Author~
E. Van Lowe, is an author, television writer, screen-writer, playwright and producer who has worked on such TV shows as "The Cosby Show," "Even Stevens," and "Homeboys In Outer Space." He has been nominated for both an Emmy and an Academy Award. His first YA Paranormal novel, "Never Slow Dance With A Zombie," was a selection of The Scholastic Book Club, and a nominee for an American Library Association Award. His Best Selling novels, “Boyfriend From Hell” and “Earth Angel,” are the first two books in the Falling Angels Saga. “The Zombie Always Knocks Twice” is the first book in his Hollyweird series.
E lives in Beverly Hills California with his spouse, a werewolf, several zombies and a fairy godmother who grants him wishes from time-to-time.
Title: Love Chosen (The Fae Dragon Chronicles Book One) Author: Marne Ann Kirk Pub. Date: Mar. 2012 Genre: Fantasy/Romance Find "Love Chosen":
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For millennia, dragon and fae have peacefully co-existed, but the fae themselves have lived segregated and very different lives.
Now a malevolence threatens to separate them all permanently. Can a Queen's guard and a rebellious outlaw join forces to defeat this common enemy?
Tyler's touch sparks fierce desire, drawing Issie to him, but she despises his way of life and all that palace society represents. If he learns she wields majic to help the less fortunate escape the kingdom, he'll charge her with treason. Her punishment - death.
Issie is a sassy rebel who is constantly looking for ways to circumvent the conventions of their society. Tyler's head warns that she's a non-majical lower, beneath him. His heart sees by her inner strength and outer beauty. Only a binding love will lend them strength to save her life - their world.
Title: Grace Doll Author: Jennifer Laurens Pub. Date: Aug. 20, 2012 Find "Grace Doll":
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Grace Doll had everything a girl could want: Fame. Fortune. Beauty.
Everything except, of course, her freedom. So when a powerful movie producer forces an experimental treatment on Grace--one that's purported to make beauty immortal--she stages her own death to escape him.
With the help of trusted friends, Grace slips into hiding. She's forever flawless, forever young and forever pursued by her past.
But when a stranger arrives on her doorstep, holding the key to a life she thought she'd left behind, Grace must decide between the safety she's known... and embracing the role she was born to play.
~From the Author~
Character Interview with Grace Doll
Hello Ms. Doll, I can't tell you what a joy it is to meet you! After hearing your story, I felt compelled to speak with you. Is it okay if I call you "Ms. Doll"? I know you've been, understandably, hesitant to equate yourself with Grace Doll in the past.
You may call me Ms. Doll, of course. Thank you for asking.
I apologize if some of these questions may be difficult. But, I really am curious as to what you went through when you were a young girl. What I've been wondering is, at what point after you were taken by Mr. Solomon, did you realize that something wasn't quite right?
He was very charming at first, very kind--or what my young girl's mind perceived as kind. He told me elaborate stories about the studio, about what he was going to do for me, making me the biggest star the world had ever seen, buying me gifts, clothing, cars, houses--every possession I wanted. One tour of BMB studios and I was hypnotized by the business. Within days I had a beautiful cottage on the lot that was to be my dressing room (only later did I find out Rufus had kicked out veteran actress Lamae Summer so that I would have the coveted spot - a move that made her despise me) My first inkling that something was wrong was when I started seeing a certain look in people's eyes whenever I was with Rufus. Even then, at thirteen, I sensed people thought there was something unusual about the way he always had his hand at my back, steering me everywhere I went, his arm ready to sneak around my waist and possess me. The only person I had to compare Rufus to was Daddy--who'd never tried to possess me.
Thirteen. You were so young. This must be horrible to remember.
I know it's been years since you've seen your family. Do you remember much about them? Does anything stand out to you?
It's been difficult to reconcile my feelings about my family allowing Rufus to take me away. I spent years questioning, wondering. Daddy sent my sisters and I across the pier to feed the seagulls while he and Rufus 'talked' so I will never really know the specifics of their conversation. I only saw the two of them shake hands and then Daddy, with his head slightly bowed, walking behind Rufus-- crossed the wooden planks to us.
What do you think it was about Mr. Solomon that made them trust him enough to let you go with him?
Rufus could charm the devil into hell. So convincing. So charismatic. People were awed and silenced and paralyzed by his presence. He was very powerful. You felt like he knew exactly what he was doing, so there was a measure of stability in that, even if fear and bewilderment came along with it.
The more I hear about Rufus from you, the more I'm terrified for the little girl that you were back then.
Something else I've been wondering...What was life like for you immediately following the fire in '49? Was everything planned out, precisely?
I have Jonathan to thank for saving me that night. Yes, the fire was planned by Jonathan. But I didn't know that. I only knew he was going to get me out of the Dollhouse that night. Jonathan and Oscar both worked together on the details of what happened directly after the escape. We had passports (courtesy of the art department) clothing and disguises (courtesy of the costume department) and Oscar and I took a leap of faith.
I can't IMAGINE what you were feeling right then. Risking it all and just leaving.
What was your first thought when you faced Mr. Solomon for the first time, in what had been years?
Thrill. Trepidation. I wanted to get the entire moment behind me forever. Of course I was curious-- I had no idea if he'd had any results from the short infusion of the treatment that night. The only thing I did know going in was that I had to be prepared to fight for my future, for my life.
After all the "Rufus Solomon confrontation" was over, what is the first thing you did, for you? You know, the first fun thing you did as yourself, not having to hide anymore?
Well, I can't say I'm not done 'hiding'. I have photographers and paparazzi following me constantly and it began the night Judy brought everything to light. So, what did I do fun? Fun's not been a word I've been familiar with for a very long time. After discovery, I really just wanted to go home to Oscar. With Brenden, of course. To answer your question, one of the 'fun' things I can remember doing was going to the beach with Brenden and watching him surf.
Well, I really hope that you manage to work more and more fun into your life as time goes on.
What's married life like for Grace Doll? Is having a relationship everything you'd hoped it would be and more?
Married life is about the experiencing ultimate contentment with another soul. It's beautiful.
I am beyond happy for you that you found that contentment. I'm sure your fans would agree that it's something you greatly deserve.
And you have children! Did you ever think that would happen?!
Two adopted children, yes. So many of my dreams were crushed in the early years, I didn't allow myself to hope ANY would ever come true. They're so much fun! Yes, I finally have fun in my life, every day!
Finally, can you sum up for us, your fans, what a day in the life of Grace Doll consists of?
Work, children and Brenden mixed with plenty of sunsets at the beach. (I adore the ocean)Sleep and repeat.
Oh, boy! That sounds perfect!
Thank you so much for taking the time to answer my questions!
~About the Author~
Jennifer Laurens, aka JM Warwick aka Katherine Warwick was born and raised in Southern California and her hometown of Palos Verdes Estates flavors her books: A Season of Eden and An Open Vein. She doesn't limit herself to writing one genre, and was the first to author four romance novels centered around the popular sport of ballroom dancing.She has YA novels published under her YA romance name of Jennifer Laurens: Falling for Romeo, Magic Hands, Nailed and the Heavenly series: Heavenly ( 2009) Penitence (2010) and Absolution (2010) A Season of Eden (2011) and Overprotected ( 2011 ).An Open Vein is under her JM Warwick pen name. Jennifer lives in Utah and has 6 children, one of whom has autism.
Title: Betrayal Author: M.L. Guida Pub. Date: Aug. 18, 2012
Scythe tracks his demon brother to Serenity House, a drug and alcohol treatment center. His brother wants to destroy the director, Heather Bowen, but Scythe is shocked to discover she is his angel-mate and now, he must not only save his brother’s soul, but stop him from killing the woman he loves.
Title: Ciao (Stories About Melissa #3) Author: Bethany Lopez Pub. Date: Aug. 2012 Find "Ciao":
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Melissa has had a fantastic summer hanging out with her friends and making new ones. Life as she knows it will change when they all come together to begin their sophomore year at Dearborn High. Connections will be made and friendships will be tested. Will Melissa’s family and friends be able to help her through the challenges she will face in the upcoming months?
Title: Doxology Author: Brian Holers Pub. Date: Aug. 10, 2011 Find "Doxology":
Vernon Davidson is an angry man. After a lifetime of abuse and loss the 61-year-old is ready to get back at God, his co-workers, and everyone else is in his north Louisiana hometown. He drinks too much to numb the pain, shuns his friends and embarrasses himself in the community. The once-cautious Vernon spirals into a reckless mess.
Only when he is reunited with his estranged nephew Jody is he forced to confront his situation. Jody is struggling in equal parts after inflicting a self-imposed exile upon himself by fleeing the family, and thereby himself, for a new life thousands of miles away. Now his father, Vernon’s brother, is dying and Vernon agrees to retrieve him for his brother’s sake.
Jody embarks on a reluctant journey back to his Louisiana home and the two men together embark on a journey that will ultimately change their lives.
Brian Holers’s Doxology examines an impossibly difficult question: how does a man go about forgiving a God he has grown to despise after the tragedies and endless disappointments he has faced?
Follow Vernon and Jody on their road from loss to healing in this deep and moving book that will challenge and surprise you, as it takes you deep into the backwaters of rural Louisiana.
Doxology does for small town Louisiana men what Steel Magnolias did for small-town Louisiana women, exposing flaws while showcasing their inner strengths. It is a tale of grandfathers, fathers, sons and brothers, and recreates family dynamics and memories in a way that forms a doxology, a song of praise for the male family bond, the emotional ties men conceal from the world and each other.
At age twenty-three, Alex has had a hard life. His parents died when he was quite young, leaving his grandparents to raise him. Right before his high school graduation, his grandparents passed on too, leaving him all alone. After losing everyone he's ever loved, Alex turns to the streets in a self-destructive pattern until he finally ends up in Springhill, where he tries to make a new life for himself.
Clair’s childhood was normal until age thirteen, when her father left the family and she never heard from him again. Consequently, her mother went into a deep depression, forcing Clair to grow up quickly. After finishing high school, Clair’s heartache over her father’s absence as well as her unbearable mother drive her to strike out on her own. But having nowhere to go and no family to speak of, Clair wanders aimlessly from town to town, homeless, and without purpose. Looking for work wherever she goes and living hand to mouth on the streets is tough, Clair discovers, but living with her mother is worse.
Now twenty-one years old, Clair has found her way to the last place she and her family took their final vacation as a family--Springhill. While in town, she crosses paths with Alex and their ensuing relationship grows faster than expected. Soon Clair wonders if coming back to Springhill and meeting Alex was the best decision or the worst decision she ever made.
~From the Author~
Hi Christy and thanks so much for having me at Captivated Reading. I’m honored to be here and thank you for giving me a chance to talk to your readers.
Today I thought I’d share with everyone some of my favorite quotes. They are in no particular order, but are quotes that once I read them, I pulled out one of my Post-It flags and stuck it to the page or highlighted it on my Kindle. Yes. I’m that person. I love to flag sentences, pages, chapters… it doesn’t matter. When I read something that give me pause, makes me think a minute about its meaning or makes me laugh or sigh and swoon over a character… I have to flag it. You’ll notice reading my quotes that I have a variety of books. I read a lot of Young Adult and Adult books… no matter the genre.
I love Maggie Stiefvater and The Wolfs of Mercy Falls has so many great quotes, but this one is by far my favorite:
“I won't let this be my good-bye. I've folded one thousand paper crane memories of me and Grace, and I've made my wish.
I will find a cure. And then I will find Grace.” ― Maggie Stiefvater, Linger
I have two favorite quotes from the one and only zombie book I’ve ever read… I thought this book had such a great take on seeing the world and people through the eyes of a zombie. Never thought I could fall in love with a zombie, but that’s just what happened.
I'm watching her talk. Watching her jaw move and collecting her words one by one as they spill from her lips. I don't deserve them. Her warm memories. I'd like to paint them over the bare plaster walls of my soul, but everything I paint seems to peel. ― Warm Bodies, Isaac Marion
I crush her against me. I want to be part of her. Not just inside her but all around her. I want our rib cages to crack open and our hearts to migrate and merge. I want our cells to braid together like living thread. ― Warm Bodies, Isaac Marion
Forbidden by Tabitha Suzuma was a book I didn’t think I would get into, let alone understand. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Its plot is has a taboo subject that people don’t like to think about, let alone read. This book easily fits on my list of the-best-books-I’ve-ever-read. It tore me to pieces and will stick with me forever.
You can close your eyes to the things you do not want to see, but you cannot close your heart to the things you do not want to feel. ― Forbidden, Tabitha Suzuma
At the end of the day it's about how much you can bear, how much you can endure. Being together, we harm nobody; being apart, we extinguish ourselves. ― Forbidden, Tabitha Suzuma
I picked this book up as a Valentine’s Day gift for a one of my book friends after hearing how good it was from the blogosphere. It’s short and tells a story using a word for each letter of the alphabet. There were so many great quotes for this one as well and here is a few I liked most.
Trying to write about love is ultimately like trying to have a dictionary represent life. No matter how many words there are, there will never be enough. ― The Lover's Dictionary, David Levithan
Libidinous: Adj: I never understood why anyone would have sex on the floor. Until I was with you and I realized: you don't realize you're on the floor. ― The Lover's Dictionary, David Levithan
Livid: F* You for cheating on me. F* you for reducing it to the word cheating. As if this were a card game, and you sneaked a look at my hand. Who came up with the term cheating, anyway? A cheater, I imagine. Someone who thought liar was too harsh. Someone who thought devastator was too emotional. The same person who thought, oops, he’d gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar. F* you. This isn’t about slipping yourself an extra twenty dollars of Monopoly money. These are our lives. You went and broke our lives. You are so much worse than a cheater. You killed something. And you killed it when its back was turned. ― The Lover's Dictionary, David Levithan
I also have a weakness for paranormal romance. BIG TIME. This debut novel has a sexy, extremely hot male lead and he has such a way with words.
You just happened to have a bottle of wine and two wine glasses here?" I asked skeptically."
Hunter smiled conspiratorially and said, "It's a rule of mine to have it available in case of special occasions. You know, like a beautiful woman in my apartment with a desire for... answers." ― Guardian of Fate (Fate, #1), L.J. Kentowski
The Fever series is by far the best paranormal series I’ve read to date. It was unlike anything I’ve ever read. Such mystery, tension build up that will nearly have you pulling your hair out and so many twists and turns that I wasn’t sure I’d survive the journey. I could pull a ton of quotes from this series but I’ve only selected two and saved my favorite of the two for last.
Flirtation doesn't have to go somewhere; it certainly doesn't need to end up in bed. I like to think of it as a little friendlier than a handshake, a little less intimate than a kiss. It's a way of saying hi, you look great, have a wonderful day. A tasteful flirtation, played out people who understand the rules, leave everyone feeling good and can perk up the bluest mood. ― Karen Marie Moning, Bloodfever (Fever, #2)
“Was he a good kisser, Ms. Lane?" Barrons asked, watching me carefully.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand at the memory. "It was like being owned. Some women like that. Not me."
“Perhaps it depends on the man doing the owning.”
“I doubt it. I couldn't breathe with him kissing me.
"One day you may kiss a man you can't breathe without, and find breath is of little consequence."
"Right, and one day my prince might come."
“I doubt he'll be a prince, Ms. Lane. Men rarely are." ― Karen Marie Moning, Bloodfever (Fever, #2)
Well, let me stop here. I could go on and on but will resist the urge to post more. Tell me, have you read any of these books? How did you like them? Or better yet, post your favorite quotes here in the comments and let me see what piques your interest.
Again, thanks so much for having me. I really had a great time with this one!
Thanks for those awesome quotations, Loni!!! I found a few in there that I can remember reading and LOVING!!!! Thanks for stopping by!
There are TWO giveaways for this blog tour! YES! TWO! Enter the first by filling out the rafflecopter below. To win an ebook of Taking Chances, leave a comment below! Winner for the ebook will be picked Aug. 26th!
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~About the Author~
Loni Flowers lives in Eastern North Carolina with her husband; two wild toddlers, who never slow down for a second; and three couch-potato dogs, who only raise an eye when foods around. She spends her days working full-time for a well-known bank. When she's not playing on the internet or chatting on Twitter or Facebook, she spends her free time with friends and family waiting for the next big idea strike.
She enjoys reading most anything, but is a sucker for a good romance story. Contemporary romance is her writing genre of choice but isn't opposed to writing something different should an excellent idea hit.
Some of her favorite authors include: L.J. Kentowski, Stefne Miller, Cassandra Clare, J.K. Rowling, and Karen Marie Moning, Nicholas Sparks, Jodi Picoult... just to name a few.
Title: Through Angel's Eyes Author: Steve Theunissen Genre: Young Adult/Historical Fiction Pub. Date: May 28, 2012 Find "Through Angel's Eyes":
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'Through Angel's Eyes' is the first person account of a 13 year old Black girl as she experiences the pivotal events of the 1963 civl rights movement in Birmingham, Alabama. The book is a Young Adult historical fiction that infuses the timeless wisdom of Martin Luther King into an intriguing narrative that takes readers on a roller coaster of emotion while they learn about a time when a group of courageous young people quietly said 'Enough!" and stood up for what they believed in.
Title: Onyx (Lux #2) Author: Jennifer L. Armentrout Pub. Date: Aug. 14, 2012 Acquired: Purchased Find "Onyx":
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Being connected to Daemon Black sucks…
Thanks to his alien mojo, Daemon’s determined to prove what he feels for me is more than a product of our bizarro connection. So I’ve sworn him off, even though he’s running more hot than cold these days. But we’ve got bigger problems.
Something worse than the Arum has come to town…
The Department of Defense are here. If they ever find out what Daemon can do and that we're linked, I’m a goner. So is he. And there's this new boy in school who’s got a secret of his own. He knows what’s happened to me and he can help, but to do so, I have to lie to Daemon and stay away from him. Like that's possible. Against all common sense, I'm falling for Daemon. Hard.
But then everything changes…
I’ve seen someone who shouldn’t be alive. And I have to tell Daemon, even though I know he’s never going to stop searching until he gets the truth. What happened to his brother? Who betrayed him? And what does the DOD want from them—from me?
No one is who they seem. And not everyone will survive the lies…
Following the "AMAZINGNESS" of Obsidian, I wasn't sure if Ms. Armentrout could possibly outdo herself. I mean, Obsidian was one of those books that is LIFE-CHANGING!!! Seriously, she did it. She, unbelievably, miraculously, did IT!!
Onyx picks up right where Obsidian left off. With a newly connected Daemon and Kat. Daemon, being his extrememly tantalizing self, is stuck trying to convince his "Kitten" that they are meant to be. But, Kat is just not having it. Convinced that their attraction is a by-product of their Halloween connection, she refuses to give in to Daemon's, very alluring, wiles...Well, MOST of the time she does.
Kat doesn't just have Daemon's persistence to contend with...There's also the DOD--the branch of the government that monitors the Luxen and their activities. Kat starts to worry about the DOD finding out about their connection, among other new "occurances".
My FAVORITE aspect to Onyx is that we get a Daemon that we didn't really get in Obsidian. He's sweet and not just the jerk that Kat's used to. This makes their attraction all the more intense.
If you haven't read this series so far, I honestly don't know what is stopping you. The story has kept me hooked the entire time and I'm absolutely ANXIOUS for more!
Title: Witch Way to Turn Author: Karen Y. Bynum Genre: Young Adult Paranormal Romance Find "Witch Way to Turn":
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Can you give one guy your heart and another your soul?
The last thing eighteen-year-old Breena Cross needs in her life is more complications. It’s all she can do to balance studying, working, trying to keep her foster-sister safe and drooling over the new guy at work. But things go from complicated to crazy when a fit of rage ignites the dark magic inside her and she finds herself fending off the supernatural underworld.
Myles, Breena’s drool-worthy coworker and vampire convict, is carrying a load of secrets--one of which is that he’s fang-over-lip in love with Breena and in danger of violating the terms of his sentence.
Orin is a soul-hungry assassin sent to kill Breena. However, he takes one look into her eyes and sees his own lost humanity. For once thinking of someone other than himself, he chooses not to end her life, even though it means risking his own.
Despite a convict and an assassin fighting over her, all Breena wants is custody of her sister. But to do this, she will need help from both Myles and Orin. And if Breena doesn’t learn to control the darkness within, she could lose her sister…forever.
WARNING: Contains strong language and some graphic content.
“You Breena Cross?” The white guy closed the distance between them.
“Who’s askin’?” she shot back.
“The witch has attitude.” The black guy moved closer.
“Hey, who you calling a witch, ass?” She gripped her car key tight against her palm, ready to go for the eyes first.
It happened so fast, she didn’t even have a chance to use her makeshift weapon. The white guy pinned her against the car door and her keys fell to the ground.
“We got her,” the white guy said. His breath smelled like rotten hamburger.
She tried to push him off her, but he forced her even harder into the door handle.
“He’s gonna be real happy with us, Jay,” the white guy practically sang.
Breena wondered who “he” was, but only for a second, because the guy’s lips pulled back and she saw his teeth. They were flat but, somehow, they looked sharp.
Sharp? What the hell?
His gaze was a roaring fire of hunger. Predatory. It looked like he wanted to rip her throat out.
He made a low growl and pressed his lips to her neck. A sound like crazed bees buzzed in her ears, nearly deafening her. She didn’t know what to do. Her palms began to sweat and, for a moment, she thought the blue light would be her saving grace, but her hands only shook.
“Back away from her.” The man sounded calm enough, but his voice had an edge to it that meant business.
“You lookin’ to lose a fight?” Jay swiveled around.
“I never lose.”
He appeared out of nowhere, grabbed Breena’s attacker by the back of his shirt and threw him a good two or three parking spaces down the lot. The black guy froze in place.
Her savior’s ears sprang up through his hair into two sharp points.
The two guys got one good look at the pointed ears and hauled tail.
Breena didn’t blame them for running. She would’ve joined them if curiosity hadn’t got the better of her. Besides, it was hard to be too scared of someone who’d just saved your life and looked sexy as all get out. So what if he had weird-looking ears?
“What are you?” She fidgeted with the strap on her backpack, swallowing her nerves.
He smiled, revealing beautiful not-at-all-sharp teeth. “You can’t tell?” He sounded surprised.
“No.” She twisted her hair. “Should I be able to?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve had very little experience with halflings.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” Halflings?
“No. I didn’t.”
Annoyance chasing away the last remnants of fear, Breena let out a little huff. Was he trying to push her buttons?
He moved closer, his steps as graceful as flowing water. His eyes caught her attention immediately--a ghostly pale-green with a golden circle around each pupil. Standing by her side, he propped himself against the VW.
“Amazing,” he whispered, staring at her. His gaze was intense, and slightly bewildered, as if he were trying to solve a riddle.
“Your soul. It’s strong.”
Weird much? She shifted on her feet, eyeing the keys on the ground.
“Sorry. You must think I’m a crazy superhero-wannabe.” He shook his head and traced his finger along his open palm. “Your kind is so rare.” His eyes lit up as he smiled. He stooped to pick up the keys and handed them to her.
Breena snatched them and started backing away from the car as nonchalantly as possible.
About to run like hell? Me?
“You asked what I am,” he said.
She hesitated. Nodded.
“I’m a preternatural.”
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~About the Author~
Karen Y. Bynum is an author of young adult paranormal fantasy. Her novel Witch Way to Turn is published through Lyrical Press. She grew up in Hickory, North Carolina where mountains and magic surrounded her. Even as a child, she wrote her own faery tales and prattled incessantly to her imaginary friends.
After graduating from UNC Charlotte with a Bachelor’s degree in Mass Media Communications, she went on to become certified in culinary arts from The Art Institute of Charlotte. But it wasn’t until her aerospace engineer husband accepted a job in Virginia and they relocated that she knew what she wanted to be when she grew up.
With the support of family and friends, Karen embarked on a journey with the voices in her head. They wouldn’t stop talking (yes, she does answer back) and their stories took shape.
Karen currently lives in coastal Virginia and enjoys reading, tweeting, writing and spending time with her husband and their spoiled rotten Vizsla named Rusty.
Title: Darker Still (Magic Most Foul #1) Author: Leanna Renee Hieber Pub. Date: Nov. 8, 2011 Acquired: Won in contest. Find "Darker Still":
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I was obsessed.
It was as if he called to me, demanding I reach out and touch the brushstrokes of color swirled onto the canvas. It was the most exquisite portrait I'd ever seen--everything about Lord Denbury was unbelievable...utterly breathtaking and eerily lifelike.
There was a reason for that. Because despite what everyone said, Denbury never had committed suicide. He was alive. Trapped within his golden frame.
I've crossed over into his world within the painting, and I've seen what dreams haunt him. They haunt me too. He and I are inextricably linked--bound together to watch the darkness seeping through the gas-lit cobblestone streets of Manhattan. Unless I can free him soon, things will only get Darker Still.
Title: The Corpse Goddess Author: Kristi Jones Genre: Urban Fantasy Find "The Corpse Goddess":
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Party girl Meg Highbury wakes up the morning of her twenty-first birthday with one hell of a hangover – and a walking corpse in her apartment. Meg turns to her straight-laced neighbor Armando for help and together they discover that Meg is a Valkyrie.
What’s more, her first duty is to trade places with the corpse. But Meg is being sent to her Death Duty too soon. In a race against time, Meg frantically tries to find a loophole to her gruesome fate, but while Meg is determined to live whatever the cost, Armando's strict moral principles keep getting in the way of her plans for escape.
Can Meg walk the 'right' and narrow path, possibly sacrificing her mortal life, for love? And if she can, will Armando have the stomach to love a rotting corpse of a girl who is falling apart in more ways than one?
Thanks to author, Kristi Jones, for this deleted scene!! Enjoy!!
Meg sat with her back against one of the larger headstones, sucking back the last of the wine. Her tongue felt like chalk and her head was swimming. Minutes sped by, unchecked.
She was staring into the corn, when she saw it. A black cloud taking shape, forming itself into a mass, a form, a figure.
“Tee, is that you?”
The darkness emerging from the corn stopped. Meg could make out the shape of a head, two arms that seemed to go on forever, and a pair of long, lanky legs.
“Not funny, Tee. I’m not that shrunk. I mean, drunk.”
The tall figure moved closer. The wind rushing through the corn suddenly smelled of mothballs and spoiled hamburger meat.
“Ugh, girl. You need to take a shower. You smell like you’ve been rolling in something nasty.”
Meg hiccupped and put the wine bottle to her lips. “Oops,” she giggled. “Empty. Guess we need to get to that party. Gotta spend some quality time with freaking Danny Kole. Little bastard.”
Still hanging on to the empty wine bottle, Meg got to her feet. Another rush of wind carried the smell of rotting meat to her nostrils. “Christ. Maybe we should stop for that shower before the party.”
She heaved her backpack up and stumbled over and around the gravestones, heading for the car. The figure, and it’s unclean stench, followed her at a slow, steady pace. Meg fished her keys out of her pocket and pressed the plastic fob that unlocked the doors. She opened the back passenger side door and tossed her backpack onto the seat, then went around to the driver’s side and climbed in. The car light was on and Meg squinted against it’s bright glow.
Her companion gave no argument. The figure’s head tilted to the side. Meg leaned across the seats and opened the door. “Come on, lazybones. Can’t hold your weed, huh?” She let loose another stream of laughter.
Meg closed her eyes, trying to blink away the alcohol haze. She drew a breath through her nostrils and the dumpster smell singed her nose hairs.
“Tee, what the hell is that smell?” she started. But the thing climbing into her car was not Tessandra Conley.
It was the hand that snapped Meg sober. A skeleton of a hand missing a considerable amount of flesh. In fact, when Meg stopped screaming long enough to take a breath, she saw the hand was more bone than flesh and what little flesh remained was decidedly rancid.
The thing sat down in the passenger seat. Meg’s throat was raw. She knew she should get out of the car. She needed to get her legs moving. She needed to run, to run away fast.
But her muscles were frozen. Her sluggish, alcohol drenched brain registered the fact that terror really could freeze muscles and that on some level, this was hilarious. Unfortunately, the terror made it impossible to laugh.
“Zomblie,” Meg whispered. Again, some part of her brain told her this was hilarious. She’d said ‘zomblie’. And again, she couldn’t laugh. She sat frozen in her seat, her hands molded to the steering wheel. “Zombie,” she said again. The words blew through her lips like so much air. She didn’t know who she was talking to. There was nobody in the graveyard to save her.
The Zomblie turned it’s head. It wore a dusty black suit that had rotted away in places. It’s eyes were long gone, but Meg felt herself drawn to those two gaping, rotting holes. The lips were gone too and left a gleaming, toothy, lipless grimace.
"What - what - what are you?"
The thing lifted it’s arms, finger bones dangling like Halloween party decorations. Meg pressed her back against the door, still clutching the steering wheel, knowing those hands were headed straight for her throat. But instead the thing reached for the seat belt, drew it out and clipped the buckle secure.
“Click it or ticket?” Meg murmured. Her breathing was still coming in gasps, but the idea of a zombie buckling itself in was so far outside the realm of possibility that she knew at that moment she must be dreaming or hallucinating or having a brain aneurism. All of which was reassuring.
Her passenger stared ahead, hands back in it’s lap.
“You need a ride?”
“Okay, okay. I know what’s going on. Tee added a little extra something to the weed, right?”
“Right. Okay. So I just need to go home. Sleep this freaking nightmare off and wake up fresh tomorrow. No worries. Right.”
Meg jabbed her key toward the ignition, her hand shaking violently. She missed, took a shaky breath, tried again. The car roared to life. The Zomblie didn’t move.
“Good. Right. Home. Screw the party. Not like I wanted to see that miserable little bastard anyway. No more partying for this girl.” Meg muttered to herself.
She pulled onto Brownsville Highway, keeping her eyes fixed on the road ahead, wishing she had blinders. “Party's over. For tonight anyway.”
The heater blew out a mass of hot air. The stench of her passenger blew out with it and Meg hurried to roll down the window. A blast of cold air cleared the car out a bit. She leaned her head out the window and took a deep breath.
“Pretty smelly fucking hallucination.”
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~About the Author~
Kristi Jones spent her childhood exploring European castles, crumbling manor houses and ornate cathedrals, always looking for secret passages and hidden rooms. She holds a degree in European history and loves to throw ‘ordinary’ characters into extraordinary circumstances.
She currently lives in south Texas with her husband and two children, who inspire her daily. She is a member of the Writers’ League of Texas and Romance Writers of America. She loves old movies, being a Mom, the feel of paper in her hands and things that go bump in the night.
Title: Mind Secrets Author: Chris Reynolds Pub. Date: July 19, 2012 Find "Mind Secrets":
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On the run and without his memories, Michael escapes from a man called Carter onto the unfamiliar streets of London. There, he meets a gang of teenagers with the power to sense the thoughts and feelings of others. They live in fear of ‘the cure’, a mysterious process which takes away their power and, some believe, destroys their personality. Suspecting the cure caused his memory loss, Michael goes undercover to investigate the truth behind the doctors of the cure clinic. What he discovers leads him to a conspiracy that runs to the heart of government and reveals the shocking reality of his own past.
Mind Secrets is a compelling thriller set in a contemporary world and will appeal to readers of the Chaos Walking trilogy by Patrick Ness and anyone who's ever wondered what it's like to have mind powers.
Title: Denied (Shadowed Love, Book 2) Author: Kinley Baker Genre: Fantasy Romance Published Date: July 2, 2012 Find "Denied":
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When invaders brutally massacred the women and children of the Varner, Caleb witnessed loss and destruction on a scale few can comprehend. As the leader of a race on the brink of extinction, his only hope for survival is gaining acceptance into the Shadow Shifter Kingdom. Struggling with new customs, he meets Tabitha, a woman who challenges his limits.
Refused the right to join the king’s guard because of her gender, Tabitha must be stronger than the men to prove she deserves to be the first accepted female Warrior in the kingdom. She believes Caleb will help improve her abilities, until she learns her goals conflict with the foundation of his culture.
When the realm is attacked, Tabitha and Caleb must come together not only to fight, but to find the strength to win against an evil with the potential to destroy everything they revere most--including each other.
Right before entering the next clearing, Caleb caught a flash of color contrasting against the green. He paused, moving aside a few leaves so he could peer through the opening. His attention caught on a tantalizing sight.
A woman moved in a dance of lethal grace with her eyes closed. She swung her blade with the skill of someone long trained. Challenging only the air around her, it was clear she strived to improve her form.
Her beauty was only enhanced by her bare, capable arms. The sleeveless shirt and pants she wore were nothing like the robes of the Shadow Shifters’ traditions. Her biceps and triceps flexed, illuminating well-formed muscles.
Amusement slid through him. This was the first time he’d ever seen a woman with a blade. And he couldn’t help but admire her. Part of him knew he should admire no female other than his aroha, his fated mate. But the other part of him was intrigued by this display of warrior patience.
The women of his people had never been trained in battle. It was Caleb who had failed to protect them. The female in front of him didn’t look like she needed protection, and the concept baffled him.
A man should always stand between a woman and a fight. And if they failed to protect as Caleb had his own people, then the man should carry that weight around forever, and the guilt, just as he did.
Need for redemption soaked into his veins. Perhaps he could help this female improve her form to make up for his other failures.
“You’re dropping your left side,” he said, moving out from behind his cover.
Her head whipped around, her sword following with force. The very tip aimed toward his heart. Five feet separated him from the lethal point. He was not yet in danger so his gaze trailed from the sharp blade to connect with her gaze.
Honey-colored eyes clashed with his. Awareness shot through him. He did his best to hide his response. His entire world shifted, the foundation reforming in the blink of a second. The change. The moment every man of the Varner desired. The finding. Of the one woman meant to be his mate.
How many times had he imagined this moment?
The warrior woman was his aroha. His body pulsed to life. For the first time his lust awakened in response to another, just as the old tales stated. His muscles tensed, everything inside him urging him to act, urging him to brand. He was ready to make her his.
The fire in her eyes held him back. As well as the vivid distinction that this woman with a sword was far from a delicate female of the Varner. From his experience the past two years and the difficulty of fumbling his way through foreign cultures for the same length of time, he knew it was better to keep his revelation to himself. For now. She might not sense the connection like he could, like the women of the Varner had been able to.
His fascination overwhelmed the new ache in his groin. She was extraordinary. He’d never seen another woman like her. Fierce and strong with steel in her gaze. Beautiful, mighty . . . his. The core of him roared that this miraculous creature belonged to him.
“Who are you?” She jabbed her blade forward an inch.
He barely kept from smiling at her demand. “You’re dropping your left side when you turn.”
Her chin jutted up. “Are you such a fine warrior that you feel yourself worthy of dispensing unsought advice?”
“Some would say.” He moved closer to her.
She tensed, but didn’t attack. Perhaps it was the foot and inches of his height advantage that stalled her.
The sun shining through the trees bestowed a glow off her light brown hair, giving her an ethereal aura. Strong features curved with womanhood invited him to touch.
His hand almost reached toward her before he stopped himself.
Every inch of him yearned to claim his woman, his destined mate, his aroha.
His fingers ached to touch her and make sure she was real. Even if it was only to correct her sword form. Could he really have found the woman he’d searched for all of his adulthood after thirty-three years of living? He needed to brush her skin and make sure he wasn’t fantasizing. Although he knew this must be real because he had never imagined a woman like her.
He closed the distance between them.
“What are you doing?”
“Showing you how to keep your side up.”
After hesitating, she finally lowered her blade. “They say we aren’t supposed to speak with men from the Varner. The villagers call you giants.”
“We aren’t much different from you. And I’ve never seen a female Shadow Shifter train with a sword. I don’t think you’re a woman who abides by the rules.”
Was that a flush in her cheeks? He moved around to direct her arm. When he hovered near her, his front almost touching her back, she glanced over her shoulder warily. He kept himself far enough away so she couldn’t feel the press of his male interest. He ignored the flustered feeling inching up his spine. He’d never been snared by a woman’s scent.
He wanted to inhale her natural fragrance and brand it to his memory. In this open area near the forest where so many aromas mingled, hers stood out—a citrus blend of foreign fruit mixed with the spicy scent of flesh dampened from exertion.
His fingers closed over her grip on the blade. He showed her how to turn without dropping her side.
“Perfect,” he said, unsure if he meant the improvement in her form or the feel of her soft flesh against his roughened palm. He freed her with reluctance.
With a little space between them, she tried again, flawlessly turning.
She frowned. “Thank you.”
“I am impressed by your skill.”
“It’s not enough.”
~About the Author~
Kinley Baker is the author of the fantasy romance series, Shadowed Love. She read her first romance at the age of thirteen and immediately fell in love with the hero and the genre.
She lives with her husband, Benjamin, and her dog, Joker, in the Pacific Northwest. Ruined, Denied, and Freed are all available now from Crescent Moon Press.
Look for a new paranormal romance series in 2013. As a firm supporter of all supernatural lifestyles, she writes fantasy, paranormal, and futuristic romances.
Title: Point of Retreat Author: Colleen Hoover Pub. Date: Feb. 25, 2012 Acquired: Purchased Find "Point of Retreat":
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Hardships and heartache brought them together…now it will tear them apart.
Layken and Will have proved their love can get them through anything; until someone from Will’s past re-emerges, leaving Layken questioning the very foundation on which their relationship was built. Will is forced to face the ultimate challenge…how to prove his love for a girl who refuses to stop ‘carving pumpkins.'
Title: The Days Before Author: Nichola Moffat & Lubowa M. Planet Genre: Fantasy Published Date: April 20, 2012 Find "The Days Before":
The days before is a novel of Fantasy and mystery.
In this novel, Ollie Connor is a man with many answers, but his very existence raises many more questions, just as Emylya is about to find out.
When Emylya has an accident which brings her close to losing her life she ends up in Ollie's world, a place between death and life. Back on Earth her body is in a deep coma which she may never wake from. Ollie can change that. He's an Angel of Death and one with an offer to make.
To get the offer means you’ve missed an opportunity, one that could have brought you untold happiness. Emylya can, if she chooses, go back to Earth for thirty days, and try to find her opportunity on the condition she forfeits her life entirely afterwards. Or she can lay back in her coma, and wait. It all comes down to how much she values her forever.
Enter Sam Fisher; he’s smart, handsome and about to burst into Emylya’s life in a riot of colour, taking her on a journey that will change both of their lives forever.
~About the Author~
Nichola first started writing at the age of fourteen when she was entered into a local essay competition through school. Out of nearly three hundred entrants she came first, her prize being having her work published and receiving a laptop, and having caught the writing bug she has not stopped churning out words since.
By the age of seventeen she'd won another two competitions, had a short story published, won an award for her work and self-published two novels. Despite having a deep love for fiction she has also published press releases, submitted several articles to a variety of websites and aided the company she previously worked for with business letters, press releases for both newspaper and radio and in-store posters.
Nichola Moffat was born in the United Kingdom where she currently lives at Cornhill on Tweed, Northumberland.