{Once Upon A Book}

Blurb: Elizabeth Turner once loved Oliver Randall, but was blind to his desire to travel without the encumbrance of a wife weighing him down. When she learned the truth, Beth settled for the security of a loveless marriage. Now a widow with a son to support, desperation has driven her into service at Romsey Abbey and directly into the path of the man she’d loved and lost.

Oliver has no intention of letting his dream of travel slip away again, even for a pretty face from his past. Since his return to the abbey, he’s planned a grand tour to the continent even while examining the astonishing emotional changes a decade apart from his brothers has wrought. The last thing Oliver wanted was stronger ties to the people living at Romsey. But then fate offers him both an affair and an unexpected friendship. Is it curiosity alone that stirs him, or the beginning of an unexpected adventure?

Heather’s Bio: Heather Boyd is the author of sizzling romance with an historical bent. A fan of regency England settings, she writes m/f and m/m stories that push the boundaries of propriety and even break the laws of that time. Brimming with new ideas, she frequently wishes she could type as fast as she can conjure up new storylines. Heather lives with her testosterone-fueled family north of Sydney, Australia.

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Excerpt: WHEN OLIVER RANDALL had been very young, he’d believed heaven could only be found in the thirty-feet-square library of Romsey Abbey. At seventeen and wrenched from his studies, he’d been assured he’d never see that library again and the long, lonely years after proved that heaven would be denied him. At eight and twenty, and thanks to his younger brother Tobias’s daring rescue two weeks prior, he’d thought he would be granted his reward.

Yet once he’d stood within Romsey library’s hushed confines, filled with books of every sort and description, he’d acknowledged that this place was merely a stepping stone on the path to adventure.

“Have you taken leave of your senses?”

Oliver set the polished wood stepladder against the uppermost shelf edge and scaled the heights of literature, prose, and radical thought in search of entertainment. “They are all still there as far as I can tell, Leopold.”

“Damn it, Oliver. Come down at once before you break your neck,” his elder brother demanded.

Oliver ran his fingers over the spines of the books closest. So many bright minds had been granted the freedom to live and experience the world as they saw fit while he had been condemned to the never-ending repetition of days and years with only the wonders of nature’s transitions outside his window to provide any sort of adventure. “Given the circumstances I’ve endured at the duke’s hands these past years, I do not find your reference to my sanity particularly amusing. I’ll come down when I’m ready and not a moment before.”

Oliver had only recently returned to the family fold, to the Romsey Estate and the sweet freedom of personal liberty. Leopold did not understand that Oliver looked for adventure at every opportunity now, even if it was merely helping himself to a second corner of toast and strawberry jam at breakfast or exploring a new point of view. He was plotting his biggest escapade yet—a grand tour of the known world. A world far away from this library.

He plucked three volumes from the shelves at random—Greek, Italian, and French—and descended to the main floor. Just enough light reading to last him until morning. Unlike others in his family, he enjoyed reading at all hours of the day and night. He devoured books as quickly as his younger brother demolished a well-roasted leg of lamb at dinner. The years without such precious volumes were a gaping pit of boredom he needed to fill.

“Everyone is waiting on you to go into dinner. Whatever you are doing can wait at least two hours.”

Oliver set two of the books beside the maps of the continent he’d appropriated for his preparations and settled in his favorite chair. “I’ll eat later. A tray in my room, perhaps.”

As he was about to open his first selection, Leopold snatched the book from his hands. “You will not return to the patterns of your youth. I will not indulge your obsessions as Mama did. We dine together each night and if I have to drag you there and strap you into a chair to accomplish that feat, I certainly will.”

Oliver assessed his brother’s mood. Not much had changed in Leopold’s demeanor since they were young lads on the cusp of manhood. Bossy. Opinionated. Stubborn. Leopold would make a fuss and bluster until Oliver capitulated. He’d never enjoy one fresh new word these books offered in peace at this rate. He resigned himself to the inevitable. He would have to adjust his daily schedule to include this unnecessary interruption of his study until he departed England. Hopefully, word would come soon concerning a ship bound for his destination and save him from excessive sentimentality. “Very well. No need for threats of violence.”
Leopold shook his head. “I never really understood how much trouble you must have been for Mama to manage when Father was away. Families eat together.”

“If you insist.” Oliver stood and drew on his tailcoat. “But I should point out that our definitions of family differ considerably. You’re not even married to the duchess. Nor is Tobias married to Lady Venables. Hardly a family affair.”

A quick grin crossed Leopold’s usually serious face. “All in good time. The wedding date is set. Hurry up now.”

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The King of Threadneedle Street
Moriah Densley

BLOG POST:
Most of us have an “old flame” story. Sometimes being apart cools the attraction, and a chance meeting years later is a friendly trip down memory lane. But what if you bump into that person after so much time and change have separated you, only to discover you’d missed out on the real deal?

Alysia Villier always knew she could never have Andrew Tilmore, her childhood sweetheart. A courtesan’s daughter is no match for a financial genius and peer of the realm. Alysia sees Romeo and Juliet’s story as a cautionary tale. Besides, who is truly in love as an adolescent? She expects to oversee the wedding preparations for Andrew’s sister, perhaps wave at Andrew from across the room, then never see him again.

Here’s what happens the first time Alysia meets Andrew after years apart. Have you ever felt this way, seeing an old flame?

EXCERPT:
A long shadow blocked the sun, accompanied by broad footsteps trampling the grass.
“What have we here, a unicorn caught sunbathing? Prime hunting,” came an almost familiar voice. A sonorous chocolatey bass, somehow deeper and throatier than when she had last heard it, and his Lancashire accent replaced by a genteel inflection she found jarring.
“Not at all,” she replied without opening her eyes, rattled by the jolt in her pulse. “Such plodding footsteps could only belong to a troll. Easily outrun by a unicorn. But trolls are really quite harmless, if you keep them fed.”
“On unicorn meat?”
“No. Pomeranians.” An old joke stemming from their mutual love of mastiffs and disdain for yapping small dogs.
The sound of his laughter was perfectly familiar. She distrusted the easy, boyish, tone tempting her to believe all would be well now that he was here. She winked open one eye, unsurprised to find their years of separation had rendered him not at all like a troll. Over six feet of Gallic demi-god sharing the same body with the most bookish man she ever met. Andrew Tilmore, Lord Preston, heir to the illustrious Marquess of Courtenay. Drew, to her, or when he deserved it, Troll.
“Lisa,” he said in a tone he should reserve for a hot bath or rare cognac, and sat beside her on the grass. “As lazy as ever, I see.” Adolescent teasing which meant, So you managed to sneak away. Bravo.
“You were not expected until Friday next, Drew. Unfortunate timing you will no doubt regret.”
“Why? Is something amiss?”
“Only the apocalypse.”
Andrew snorted, waiting for her to explain. She would not. Lady Courtenay trying to run her household for the first time — while pretending to arrange a ducal wedding, which Alysia was truthfully in charge of — would not mix well with the problem Andrew’s presence would bring. Specifically, his being in the vicinity with Alysia.
She pushed herself up on her elbows, mindful of the buttons she had loosed on her bodice. He wasn’t looking, but fastening them would draw his attention. She sat up and wrapped her arms around her bent knees.
Andrew leaned in to catch her gaze, and she suppressed a shock. Of anxiety or lust-related, she couldn’t say, but in the seconds it took to trade glances, it became apparent that what his parents had tried to douse between them had not yet faded. He cradled her chin between his thumb and forefinger then stroked the edge of her jaw, which in times past heralded a kiss.
Two years ago, he would have mock-whispered, See, I am making eyes at you, Lisa. Wet your lips, I will lean closer, and as soon as you close your eyes, the violins will start. When you see firecrackers, say so. Then he would overly pucker his lips, smacking them together like a fish while she dodged, squealing. But sometimes his manner was quite serious, and those memories were best left buried in the back of her mind.
He was serious now. She knew that expression he wore, as plainly as though she heard his thoughts. Still it made her stomach drop and her lips tingle with longing. Alysia pulled away, not trusting herself to look him in the eye.
If she had any hope of surviving two weeks under the same roof with Andrew, she had best set the precedent now for their behavior, and this must be her last private conversation with him. Their last kiss had been more than two years before. After his sister’s wedding, she would never see him again.

BOOK DESCRIPTION:
He owns three shipping companies, a diamond mine, and his own castle.
He knows Portuguese, Hindu, Mandarin and Morse code.
His assets net thirteen million.
Lord Preston wants the one thing money can’t buy…

Andrew Tilmore, Lord Preston, the financial prodigy dubbed “The King of Threadneedle Street” wants the one prize out of reach: his childhood sweetheart. The papers can waste a sea of ink scandalizing over his lavender-eyed Alysia; so what if she is the daughter of his father’s mistress?

Alysia Villier learned the craft of the courtesan from her infamous mother―by osmosis apparently. A gifted artist who almost won the Prix de Rome, Alysia is not interested in following in her mother’s footsteps, since Andrew ruined her for any other man. But with her legal guardian—Andrew’s father―in control of her inheritance, she has little choice in the matter.

Keeping Alysia out of trouble and away from eager suitors becomes a cross-continental quest for Andrew. Not his old-fashioned family, the disapproval of the ton, nor even Alysia’s dedication to duty and propriety will stop him. Playing newspapers and investors like pawns, tumbling world markets, inciting riots… has he gone too far?

AUTHOR BIO:

Moriah Densley sees nothing odd at all about keeping both a violin case and a range bag stuffed with pistols in the back seat of her car. They hold up the stack of books in the middle, of course. She enjoys writing about Victorians, assassins, and geeks. Her muses are summoned by the smell of chocolate, usually at odd hours of the night. By day her alter ego is your friendly neighborhood music teacher. She lives in Las Vegas with her husband and four children. Published in historical and paranormal romance, Moriah has a Master’s degree in music, is a 2012 RWA Golden Heart finalist, 2012 National Reader’s Choice Award “Best First Book” finalist, and 2012 National Reader’s Choice Award finalist in historical romance.

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The Reason is You by Sharla Lovelace

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

When life takes an unwelcome turn Dani Shane finds herself returning to her hometown with her daughter, Riley. Unfortunately for them Dani’s childhood wasn’t the best due to her unusual ability to see and talk to the dead, and when she finds her daughter talking to her dead (and sexy) best friend she has new worries to contend with. As if that wasn’t enough, there’s also Dani’s new boss…

This is a well constructed story that will keep you reading until the very last page! The plot is excellent and the characters are believable. I found the mother/daughter relationship a little off for the ages, but I don’t really have the experience to judge on that point.

One of the criteria that some people use to determine if a story is a good one is whether it can make you empathize enough with the characters to laugh and cry. I find that if I’m yelling at the characters for being idiots (okay, not out loud) that’s an excellent sign for how good the book is.

In short, I found this to be an excellent book and I will now look forward to seeing what else Sharla Lovelace has out there, whether now or in the future.

Disclaimer: I received a free copy of this book in exchange for my honest review.

~Aurora

Sharla will be awarding a custom tote bag with book swag, a themed recipe card and $20 Amazon GC to one randomly drawn commenter during the tour. One randomly drawn host will get their choice of eBook from Sharla’s booklist.

Want more entries to win? Follow the book tour! The tour dates can be found here: http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2013/04/book-blast-reason-is-you-by-sharla.html

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Sharla Lovelace is the National Bestselling Author of THE REASON IS YOU, BEFORE AND EVER SINCE, and the e-novella JUST ONE DAY. Being a Texas girl through and through, she’s proud to say she lives in Southeast Texas with her family, an old lady dog, and an aviary full of cockatiels.

Sharla is available by Skype for book club meetings and chats, and loves connecting with her readers! See her website www.sharlalovelace.com for book discussion questions, events, and to sign up for her monthly newsletter.

www.SharlaLovelace.com

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NOTE: I received this book free from WaterBrook Multnomah for this review. This is my honest opinion and has not been influenced by WaterBrook or the author.

Book Description: Tattered relationships and broken hearts, like a quilt, can be pieced together by God’s love.

When Maren Jensen took a job on Elsa Brantenberg’s St. Charles, Missouri farm, she never expected to call the place her home. As she grows to love Mrs. Brantenberg and her granddaughter, Gabi, Maren is transformed from a lonely mail-order bride-without-a-groom to a beloved member of the Brantenberg household.

But when Gabi’s father, Rutherford “Wooly” Wainwright, returns to the farm unexpectedly, everything changes for Maren. Despite the failing eyesight that caused her suitor to reject her, she can see that Wooly desperately needs to reconnect with the family he abandoned when his grief sent him running toward the army—and into the Civil War. She also senses there could be something more between the widower and herself, if either can move beyond their past hurts.

Comforted and counseled by the wisdom of the women in her beloved quilting circle, Maren begins to discover the cost such decisions demand of her heart. Are her choices in obedience to God, or is she running from His plan? Is it too late for love to be stitched into the fabric of her life?

Review: I find novellas to be a refreshing change of pace from longer novels. They’re perfect for instances when you don’t have the time to read a full-length book, as well as when you’re looking for a quick, entertaining read on the weekend. Dandelions on the Wind, the first novella in Mona Hodgson’s The Quilted Heart series is good; short and sweet. I enjoyed the historic setting of wartime St. Charles, Missouri, as well as the quaint imagery of life on the farm. The only thing I disliked about this novella was the lack of character development. This is, unfortunately, a problem that plagues many novellas. Don’t get me wrong though, I liked the characters well enough, but I didn’t feel as close to them as I would have liked. I would have enjoyed seeing more of their personalities, hearing more of their inner thoughts, and most of all, I would have liked to see more interactions between characters (especially those involving the budding romance within this novella’s pages!). In sum, it’s a good book, but had the potential to be so much more. It definitely would have greatly benefited from being written as a full-length novel. I look forward to reading the second novel in the series to find out what happens and to gain insight into these characters’ inner workings.
Jessa’s Rating: 3 stars out of 5

To learn more about the author and get the latest news, check out Mona Hodgson’s website HERE. Can’t wait to read Dandelions on the Wind? Get your copy HERE.

His Jilted Bride
by Rose Gordon

Book Description:

It’s her wedding day and there is no groom in sight. But why should Amelia Brice be surprised? Hiram, Lord Friar is known for having no gentleman’s honor to speak of and his jilting her on their wedding day makes it official.

Elijah Banks cannot allow his childhood friend to continue to be shamed this way. It’s been almost an hour past the time when the wedding was to start, and that bounder still hasn’t shown up. Unable to sit still a second longer, Elijah does the only thing that seems logical from where he stands: kidnap the bride and marry her himself in order to escape this scandal with one far more forgiving for a young lady’s reputation.

The only trouble is, she has a secret…but so does he; hers is big…but his is bigger.

About the Author:

USA Today Bestselling Author of ten unusually unusual historical romances that have been known to include scarred heroes, feisty heroines, marriage-producing scandals, far too much scheming, naughty literature and always a sweet happily-ever-after. When not escaping to another world via reading or writing a book, she spends her time chasing two young boys around the house, being haunted by wild animals, or sitting on the swing in the backyard where she has to use her arms as shields to deflect projectiles AKA: balls, water balloons, sticks, pinecones, and anything else one of them picks up to hurl at his brother who just happens to be hiding behind her.

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Excerpt:

“Nobody has to know he jilted you,” he said, reaching forward to push the hair sweeping across her forehead behind her ear.

She shook her head; her grey eyes shining with unshed tears. “They already do.”

“No,” he corrected. “All they know for sure is a wedding is not currently taking place. What they don’t know is if it was the groom who jilted the bride or the bride who jilted the groom.”

Amelia eyed him curiously. “No, I’m fairly certain they all know it was the groom who jilted the bride. My mother and father are both out there.”

“Yes, and they are doing a wonderful job acting as if they’re waiting for their daughter’s wedding to take place.”

“Acting?” she said, her eyes narrowing in on him.

“Acting,” he confirmed. “See, your mother is sitting in her pew, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief while your father is pacing a hole in the wooden platform just outside the front door of the church. Both are playing their roles perfectly, giving off the illusion to the rest of the guests that they are just waiting for the wedding to begin any moment.”

“Which seems to be less likely to happen as the minutes pass.”

“Exactly,” Elijah agreed. “Which is why you need to act now before someone discovers your game.”

“My game?”

He nodded once. “Yes, madam, your game.” He picked up her petite hand and wrapped his fingers around it. “I’m not as dimwitted as the rest of them. I see what’s really going on here.”

“At least you do, because I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He ignored her. “I almost fell for it, too.”

“Fell for what?” she burst out in hysteria, presumably due to her current situation, lacing her voice.

“You’re jilting your groom,” he said evenly, meeting her eyes.

A shadow crossed her face and she cleared her throat. Twice. “What are you suggesting?”

“I’m not suggesting anything. I’m just merely making mention of the fact that the wedding has yet to begin, and both the bride and the groom have yet to be seen. How does a guest such as myself truly know whether it was the bride or the groom who didn’t come today? How do I—a random guest—know that the bride and groom were not so in love with the other they could hardly wait another day and decided to elope?”

She snorted.

“All right, well, perhaps that scenario isn’t very believable, but the other very well could be possible.” He took a deep breath. “Amelia, listen to me, I know you’re a very strong young lady and you come from a very important family; but none of that will matter come tomorrow when this is all over the scandal sheets.”

“I know,” she said with a swallow.

“Then see the sense in what I’m saying and marry me.”

Interview with Rose Gordon:

You write what???

For a few months now, I’ve been asked directly and indirectly how those who I know personally react when I tell them that I write romance—particularly my close friends and family and those I go to church with.
There is no simple answer, really, everyone reacts differently.
My mom (who will read this, I’m sure, and might scold me later) is an avid romance reader, however, she always requests that I send her what I call the “Mama Mia Style” version of my books, so when the hero and heroine go to the bedroom (or field or wherever), before anything happens, I delete the scene and write DOT DOT DOT. (If you’ve seen the movie or play Mama Mia, when the girl is reading her mother’s diary from the summer she was conceived, every time something happened, she’d write, “dot dot dot”.) It’s not that she’s never read a book with this in there, she just doesn’t like to think about me, her daughter, writing it or having knowledge of certain things.
My husband loves the books and he likes to play the game of “which chapter do they have sex?” He usually teases me and says the last chapter for sure. He’s one of my biggest supporters actually, and it’s because of him that anyone in my personal life other than he and my parents know.
The story of what I do first surfaced on Facebook. Of course. My husband didn’t think it should be a secret (and I did!) and made a post… From there, it pretty much went viral amongst his friends, some of which are mine and members of our church. Okay, ‘viral’ might be too strong of a word here, I just thought it went viral at that point because so many people suddenly seemed to know; but I was wrong. There are still people just now finding out. More on this in a bit.
Most of our friends didn’t care one way or the other, but there were a few who every time I see them they want to talk about the books and characters.
Naturally, there were a few people at the church who disagreed. Some made their feelings known, some didn’t. With the exception of one couple who is a good set of friends of my husband and I, a lot of the talk at first was negative. Not that I was awful at writing, negative, just that I should find something else to do that’s more in line with their beliefs. It was around this time, I received a public criticism on one of my books that didn’t help my case with the church. It claimed my book was utter filth, not because there was marital intimacies in the book, but that it was taken too far. Though I doubt the person who confronted me about it had actually read the book to make a decision for themselves, they kindly suggested that perhaps if I was going to continue to write trash, I should step down from my position.
It was at this point that I put up a shell, and when only a few days later was confronted by a group of ladies at my church about it, I declared loud and clear that I’m an adult entertainer!
Surprisingly, this was where things turned around.
A few in that group that day weren’t as offended as the others thought they might be and since then, word has slowly spread across the church and I’ve had countless ladies come up and admit to loving that particular type of book. This confession always makes me nervous because I just know they’re going to ask what name I write under…
To date, I’ve had about a dozen ladies and one gentleman other than my husband ranging from early thirties to their eighties from my church read my books. Most of them were people I would have NEVER thought would have ever read this type of book before. When I know someone is going to read one, I always, always, always, give a disclaimer about what they’ll find. One lady shocked me to the toes when she nearly squealed and said, “Oh, the smuttier, the better!”
While there are still some who may not know, or who do know and chose not to say anything, once I’d quit hiding behind the computer screen about it, I’ve actually had a very positive reaction. And other than having them read the books just for entertainment value, I’ve actually become better friends with a few of them because of this (weird, I know). I’m not sure if they saw me as the 15 year old I was when I moved there or if maybe before my “confessional” I had an invisible force field around me that made me unapproachable, but for one reason or another, I’ve become friends with several who I barely spoke to before.
These days, I don’t bother to keep it a secret. Whether it’s someone at potluck, a church fundraiser, the realtor, or someone over the phone, if someone asks what I do, I grin and tell them, “I’m an adult entertainer, and for less than five dollars, I can keep you entertained all day.”
Some laugh. Some don’t. That’s okay, because as my husband tells me all the time, there is so much of me in my books, that if you don’t like my books you won’t like me and if you do like my books, you’ll like me as a person. I’m okay with that. Take me or leave me, I am who I am. I don’t cry to get out of tickets. I don’t pretend to like people I don’t. I don’t join the crowd to say something bad about something even if I like it just to stay with the majority. I’m different and if that makes me unpopular, so be it.
A funny story.
The other night I was up at the church holding an informal staff meeting and doing paperwork for an organization I’m involved in (as you can tell, I did not give up my position, instead, I took a passive aggressive approach and went against my usual beliefs and sent that particular book off to a review blogger. After she wrote her piece, declaring the book was not trash, the lady backed down). While I was doing my paperwork, this young lady about my age came into the room and said, “I didn’t know you wrote books.”
I nodded and before I could say anything, this lady’s dad came in and joined the conversation. “Yeah, we were talking about it at lunch today and thought it was pretty neat that we had a children’s author in our church.”
I about choked on my gum and the two other ladies who were in there for my staff meeting started laughing hysterically–both have read at least one series. “Who told you?” I choked out.
“Fred. He mentioned, blah, blah, blah.”
“And he said I was a children’s author?”
“Well, no. I just assumed…”
Coughing and banging on my chest like John Banks might do when caught in a fib or an uncomfortable situation, I tried my best to hold a straight face. “They’re not children’s books. But some do result in having children.”
It didn’t take but a second for it to sink and his eyes to flare wide. But then he just shrugged and started asking for details.
A little weird, yes. But that’s my life and I certainly love it. The thing is, if you’re comfortable in your own skin—even if you write naughty books—nothing anyone else can say will matter!

Title: Emancipating Andie

Author: Priscilla Glenn

Release date: April 27, 2013

Age Group: Adult

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Event organized by: AToMR Tours

Amazon: CLICK

Ever since the one time Andie Weber threw caution to the wind – and paid the price for it – she’s learned that it’s safer and smarter to live life playing by the rules. Now she’s got a great apartment, a steady job, and a wonderful boyfriend in Colin; he’s sweet, stable, and essentially perfect – except maybe for the fact that his best friend is Chase.

Chase McGuire lives his carefree, unstructured life strictly for himself. Dripping sarcasm and oozing wit, he refuses to censor his feelings or opinions for anyone, making no apologies for either and wearing his abrasiveness like a badge of honor. No one has ever gotten under Andie’s skin the way Chase does – and vice versa.

So when Andie and Chase find themselves forced to take a two-day road trip together, they are already dreading an inevitable all-out war. But as the trip progresses, and the undeniable friction that has always defined their relationship slowly begins to wear away their preconceived notions of each other, Andie and Chase discover they both have a lot to learn about life, courage, happiness, and the age-old battle between logic and love.

About the Author:

Priscilla Glenn lives in New York with her husband and three children. She has been teaching English Language Arts at the middle and high school levels for the past eleven years while moonlighting as a writer, mommy, coach, student, and professional laundry-doer.

If you catch her when she’s feeling sophisticated, she’ll tell you her favorite things are great books and good wine. In the moments in between, she’ll admit her love for anything Ben and Jerry’s, UFC fights, and Robert Pattinson.

Emancipating Andie is Glenn’s second novel. She is also the author of the contemporary romance/young adult crossover, Back to You.

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Event Giveaway: (3) eBook copies of Emancipating Andie – Gifted from Amazon only

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Guest Post:

Andie and Chase

Back when I was in the early stages of writing Emancipating Andie, I was having a conversation with one of my non-author friends about how the first few chapters of a novel always take me the longest to write. When she asked me why, I said, “Because I don’t know the characters yet.” I remember how thrown she was by that answer. “I don’t get it. How are you writing about them, then? Don’t you plan all that out ahead of time?”

The truth is, I don’t. I don’t know if this is how all authors work, but for me, when I begin a story, it is with a very basic concept. A general idea of who my characters are and what’s going to happen to them. When I began Emancipating Andie, I knew that Andie was uptight and a “rule-follower.” I knew that Chase was fun, snarky, and a bit of an a-hole. I knew that they were going to be forced to co-exist with each other, and that when they were together, sparks would fly (both good and bad). And that was it. I didn’t know why she was so uptight. I didn’t know why Chase was rough around the edges. Not until I put them in that car and they started talking to each other and letting their guards down.

It’s somewhat difficult to explain, and I’m sure it makes me sound a bit crazy, but there are these moments when I’m writing, these little epiphanies, where the characters reveal themselves to me. I will be writing a scene, and suddenly I just know that “he would say this” or “she would do that,” and I think, “Of course!” The more that happens, the closer I become to them, and the easier it is to write them. As it turns out, Andie is actually funny and brave. And Chase? He’s talented and extremely profound. I didn’t know that about them when I started.

So I hope the ride you take as a reader is similar to the one I took as an author. I hope you’re eager to learn about Andie and Chase, that you’re pleased/surprised/thrilled/swooning as they start revealing themselves to you, and that by the end of their story, you love them as much as I do.

Sixteen year old Rachel Harker expects the church sponsored hiking trip in the Smoky Mountains to be short and painless. Four days later, injured and scared, Rachel prays to just make it home alive.

With their food gone and the temperature dropping, time is running out. Will Rachel be able to do what needs to be done to get home? And can Asher find faith when he needs it the most?

“Rachel, are you going to hate me forever?” Sid asked as he draped his arm around her shoulder. His dark red coat matched his hat so perfectly that Rachel wondered how long he had searched for a coat the exact same shade as his favorite headpiece.

“I don’t hate you,” she said, shrugging him off.

“Sure you do. You both do. Carly told me you did.”

“She did what?”

“Yeah, in the van. She said both of you royally disliked me, and I wanted to hear it from you.”

The soft sound of the running water echoed through the trees. It sounded peaceful, tranquil. If only Sid would be quiet long enough for her to enjoy it.

Rachel held on to the flimsy, wooden handrail as she started across the swinging, single person bridge across Deep Creek, which ran perpendicular to the trail. Deep Creek wasn’t very big; maybe fourteen feet across, and appeared more of a trickle than a creek. She didn’t even see a waterfall. It kinda bummed her out.

“Deep Creek,” Sid read the sign at the beginning of the bridge and followed behind her. “Original. Misleading, but original.”

Rachel couldn’t argue with that. A few boulders were scattered across the creek basin. To Rachel, it looked like if something bad did happen and the water actually covered those rocks, then the creek would live up to its name.

“I don’t know what Carly told you, but I don’t hate you.

Carly is her own person and can think or feel what she wants,” Rachel said once she reached the other side of the bridge. ”But I don’t hate you. I don’t like what you did, but I don’t hate you.”

“Look, I know I messed up. I more than messed up. I screwed up and hurt someone I care about. I know that. If I could take it back, I would. Can you just please talk to Carly when we get to the picnic area? Make her see that I’m not a bad guy.”

Rachel didn’t know what to say to that. She had always heard once a cheater always a cheater, but she also knew it was her Christian duty to forgive.

“Come on. Help a guy out,” he added in a pitiful voice. “I told her I was sorry. What more does she want?”

“You’ll just have to figure that out yourself,” Rachel said, unsure of how to help him.

“Just talk to her. Pleeeeeeeeeeeease…”

“Okay!” she said just to shut him up.

“Thank you!” His face lit up like a Christmas tree, and he kissed her on the cheek before running up the trail toward Asher, who was leaning on a tree. “You’re the best!” he yelled back at her.

Rachel stopped walking. What had she agreed to, and what was Sid thinking kissing her like that? It wasn’t like he was letting his intentions be known, as her grandma liked to say. But still, being kissed — even in a chaste way — wasn’t something that happened to her every day.

She watched as Sid slapped Asher on the shoulder before running by him, and without thinking, her fingers went to the little spot on her cheek where his kiss had landed.

“If you get that riled up from a little peck on the cheek, I’d hate to see what would happen if you got a kiss on your lips,” Asher yelled, folding his arms with that same smirk he’d had at the snack machine. Rachel’s cheeks burned like fire, knowing what she must look like, staring all swoony–‐‑eyed at Sid. When did she start swooning?

“On second thought,” Asher said, narrowing his eyes, “maybe it would be a fun thing to see.”

“That would imply that I’d let you.” Rachel made her legs move again.

“Very true.” Asher laughed, falling in step beside her.

“What are you doing on this trip anyway?” Rachel asked, harsher than she meant. Her mouth was in defensive mode.

He shrugged, not seeming to take any offense. “Didn’t have any other place to be.”

Awkward silence filled the space between them as they walked. Rachel just wanted him to run ahead with Sid and leave her alone.

“You should cut him some slack, you know?”

“Who? Sid?”

“Who else? Yeah, Sid. He messed up, sure. He cheated. We all mess up. Even perfect little Christians like you.” He had a lot to learn about her. “I’m by no means perfect,” she said, her voice hard.

“And neither is Sid.”

“I’ve never cheated on a boyfriend.”

“Have you ever had a boyfriend?”

Ouch, that stung. “That’s none of your business.” Sure, she had never had a boyfriend, but she knew without a doubt she wouldn’t cheat on one.

“I’m sorry,” he said, almost like he meant it.

“Whatev—”

“And Sid’s sorry too,” he said without skipping a beat. “Making out with Easy Emily wasn’t the smartest move. One, because her lips should be retired for excessive use, and two because it hurt someone he cares about a lot.”

Rachel knew he was right. She’d even used the same argument with Carly. For some reason, she just wanted to stay mad at Sid, more so after he thought it wise to buy her help with a little peck on the cheek. The kiss had irked her. And her reaction to it irked her even more.

Asher spoke when she didn’t. “You Bible types are all about forgiveness,” he shook his head, “until it’ʹs you who has to do the forgiving.”

“What do you know of the Bible, Asher?” she spat. “Do you even own one?”

Without warning, Asher stepped in front of her. She could either stop or run over him; she chose to stop. Her eyes came up to his chest, and she tilted her head up to see his face. That close, she could see how blue his eyes were and the little moon–‐‑shaped scar on his chin. He didn’t look amused anymore, and the twinkle was gone from his eyes. “You think you know it all, don’t you? It’s all black and white with you. No gray areas. All or nothing. Well, guess what?”

He moved his hands to her shoulders and pushed her windblown curls back. “The world doesn’t work like that.” Asher lingered a moment, staring into her eyes. He stared so long, Rachel wondered if he was going to kiss her too, but that was stupid, because he obviously didn’t like her. Without a word, he turned and walked away.

Watching him go, her mind raced and felt completely empty at the same time.

She had no idea what in the world was happening on this trip.

I just want to say that when I saw the first book in the Elemental series, I was curious, but didn’t expect much.

How wrong I was.

The first four books are amazingly written and showcase Ms. Granger’s talent as an author who will be around for a long time. From the time I finished Earth until I finished Fire, the fourth book in the series, I craved each new installment.

Except for Spirit. I’ve both craved it’s release and dreaded it as I am afraid of what it holds between it’s gorgeous covers. Much like I did for the last Harry Potter book. Very few series have captured my heart as much as this one has. Though, I do have to admit that I have not read more than the first two chapters of Spirit because I don’t want it to be the end.

If you enjoy young//new adult books that are full of magic and touch upon the different spiritual journeys people take {Pagan, Christianity, Holistic, etc.}…then this is your series. I dare you to not love it as much as I have.

I can’t wait to see what Ms. Granger has in store for her fans next. Thank God she doesn’t mind me being her internet stalker.

Happy Reading,
Angie

Title: Spirit: Book Five in the Elemental Series
Author: Shauna Granger
Publisher: Self-Published
Release date: April 30, 2013
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Age Group: Young Adult/New Adult
Goodreads: CLICK
Book Description:
Always careful to watch out for others, Shayna put too much trust her abilities to keep herself safe and has been cut down by crazed man. Now she is trapped in the land of the dead, watching as her two best friends suffer the consequences of her death; their powers are fading and soon they will too. Shayna is desperate to return to the land of the living to save them from a similar, cold fate. To save her friends Shayna must turn away from the Light and, in doing so, sacrifice her wings.

But the longer Shayna stays among the dead, the further she slips from sanity. If Shayna cannot find her way back she will be condemned and lost forever among the restless souls of the dead. With nothing left to lose, she will do whatever it takes to fight her way back, with or without her wings.

About the Author:
Like so many other writers, Shauna grew up as an avid reader, but it was in high school that she realized she wanted to be a writer. Five years ago, Shauna started work on her Elemental Series. She released the first installment, Earth, on May 1, 2011 and has since released four sequels, with the series coming to an end with Spirit. She is currently hard at work on a new Urban Fantasy series, staring a spunky witch with a smush-faced cat named Artemis.

Author social media links:

FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS

Blogs: Click and Click

Excerpt:

More than two hundred homes and two thousand square acres were destroyed in the fire. Two people were severely burned, but they survived. Amazingly, no one died. At least, that’s what the papers reported. They never found my body, and they looked for days. I know; I watched them search for me. I had always said I wanted to be cremated when I died, asking to have my ashes scattered at the roots of an old tree, but being burned alive was not what I had in mind.
My parents held my memorial outdoors, on the beach. Search and rescue told my parents it was too soon to be completely conclusive about my whereabouts, but after seeing the site where Jodi and Steven said I’d died, my parents came to the hard decision that I was, more than likely, gone.
A pack of surfers I had known since childhood paddled out to sea, each bearing a flower wreath. Once they were past the last break of waves, they cast the flowers into the ocean, letting the ebb and flow of Earth and sea take them. The beach was covered in black from mourners milling around, huddled against the winter bite in the breeze.
Deb had brought her entire coven to show their respects. Little Trisity clung to Deb’s hand while tears streamed down her face, her aura a pale gray obscuring her sweet face. Deb lifted her up and held her on her hip, letting Trisity cry into her shoulder as she made her way to my parents. Half the senior class had turned out in a wash of black, white, and gray; even a few teachers were in attendance. I had no idea so many people had known me. A huge, obnoxious picture of me stood on an easel, flowers littering the ground around it. Beside it, my surfboard stood, jammed in the sand.
Jodi and Steven received just as many hugs and whispered condolences as my parents. Their faces were dry of tears. Jodi looked hard and determined, as though an idea had taken root in her mind and she was unaware of her surroundings, whereas Steven looked distant, the fire in his eyes banked to cold embers. They accepted the hugs and nodded at the words, but otherwise they weren’t truly present. I felt Jodi’s uncontrolled magic, the sudden gusts of wind whipping her signature around, making the mourners cling to their coats and inch closer to each other.
Jensen was there, wrapped in a black peacoat and wearing a grey beanie pulled low over his ears. His hands were jammed into his coat pockets, and his tiny mother was next to him, her arm linked through the crook of Jensen’s elbow. I traced the line of his profile with my eyes, remembering the heat of his full, red lips and the sharp lines of his cheekbones under my fingers. An ache blossomed in my chest as I waited for him to turn toward me, let me see the stormy ocean of his eyes, but he never did.
I stood alone on the rocks, watching from a distance. I found when I came too close to those who had loved me in life, I stole what little peace they’d carved out for themselves. Any calm or happiness they had found would seep away, the color of their aura draining to gray. I was a wraith, bound to the shadows, trying to find my way home.
I had spent my time in the Ether, somewhere between the living and the dead, hiding and running from that which would take me from this plane. I’d seen the bright Light, the tunnel, felt the inexplicable compulsion drawing me toward it. I felt the peace it offered. It felt like home. And I turned away from it.
It was strange, watching those people, so close to them but totally apart. Even at this distance, I saw Death’s next victims. Everyone was marked for death, but the closer they came to it, the darker the mark grew over their bodies. It was a cancer that made the soul rip away from the body. I saw lung cancer creeping up on my English teacher. In another year’s time, he would know about his diminishing chances of beating it. One of Deb’s sisters stood with the shadow of Death looming over her shoulder, ready to snatch her away in a few weeks when she stepped off that curb just fifteen seconds too soon because she was digging through her purse with her phone braced between her cheek and shoulder. I was so close and yet so far away. I couldn’t warn them though the words screamed in my mind. I felt the phantom weight of my wings on my back, but I knew they weren’t there. When I died and turned away from the Light, they were ripped violently away from me.
Thankfully, when I looked at my parents they were crystal clear, no shadow looming over them. In time, the grey of their auras would clear and resonate in the rainbow spectrum as they should. But when I looked at Jodi and Steven I saw the merest whisper of a shadow. It blurred against their gray auras, but when they moved I saw it and panic nearly strangled me. But what could I do?
I turned to Jodi and watched her face, seeing the peaches and cream complexion drained to pale anger. My fingers twitched with the desire to wave to her, get her attention, make her see me even though I knew it was futile. Steven had turned his back on the congregation, looking out to the sea that usually terrified him, but today nothing scared him, nothing moved him. I sighed even though I no longer breathed, and when I pulled my gaze off of the back of Steven’s head, remembering how soft the curl of his hair felt under my fingers, I looked into Jodi’s eyes.
For one heart stopping moment, she stared right back at me.
Her pale blue eyes didn’t blink, the line of her mouth pressed hard and angry. I started to open my mouth to call out to her, but before I could, I heard the crunch of rocks behind me, making me break our eye contact. I spun around and saw the angel terrifyingly close to me.
“Shayna,” he whispered, his voice carried on Jodi’s wind, gusting now in frantic confusion.
“No!” I yelled, jumping from the rocks. I took off running, faster than I ever could in life. I prayed for my wings, willed them into existence, but the pain never came and my back remained whole and unmarred. I heard the thunder clap behind me, reverberating as his wings erupted just before he took flight, chasing me.
Fear ripped through me, threatening to trip me up. I felt the Heavens opening behind me, the warm light pressing against my back, growing warmer the closer the angel’s outstretched hand got to me. I closed my eyes and drew in the shadows of the rocks around me, turned on the spot, and let my body fall. The shadows wrapped around me and pulled me through the cosmos just as the tips of the angel’s fingers touched my sweater.

Blurb: Jordie is a survivor, tough and independent. She’s had to be, since her husband was killed in Iraq. For the last eight years, raising her daughter and owning a popular New York City bar has kept Jordie plenty busy, leaving her no time for much of anything else. Aside from her sassy yet squirrely best friend Rachel, Jordie’s social life is bare bones and her love life nonexistent. Truth be told she wouldn’t change a thing; she’s never been happier.

Then she meets Nathan, and he changes everything with one crooked smile, triggering a chain of life-altering events for the two of them, filled with romance, chaos, and deadly peril. Neither of them could ever imagine their relationship would resurrect an unknown darkness from Jordie’s past, lurking in the shadows, just waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Jordie has never needed to be stronger for all of them to make it out alive.

Sensuality Level: Sensual

I’m not usually the type for romance novels, but this one actually held my attention. I could see a lot of myself in Jordie, the protagonist. Jordie is used to taking care of problems by herself and has a hard time letting others in. I, too, find that it’s often easier to just do things myself. Life, however, isn’t made to be lived alone.

Jordie realizes this the moment she meets Nathan — a handsome young man that comes into her bar one night and attempts to rescue her from a high-risk situation. For one, she is not looking to be rescued, but she also isn’t looking for love. Isn’t that what they always say? That love comes through when we are most certainly *not* looking for it? In the novel, Nathan happens to be a famous Hollywood actor. Jordie was apparently not aware of this, which I found a bit unbelievable. In this day and age, even if one doesn’t want to be inundated with celebrity, it is almost impossible to not be. If that one fact can be put aside, then Jordie and Nathan’s love story is both captivating and passionate at the same time.

The story keeps getting grander and filled with more twists and turns until a shocking ending is revealed. I would give away more than that, but really, the novel speaks for itself. Sometimes I find the story to go a little bit too far and to stretch beyond the levels of credibility but it still is an entertaining read.

I would give the story 3 out of 5 stars. Romance novels typically aren’t my cup of tea, but this one had just the right balance of cheesy love story and actual plot development. I would recommend this book if you are looking for a quick read with a lot of passion and fire between two people who aren’t looking for love – but find it anyways.

Disclaimer: I received a review copy in exchange for my participation in the blog tour. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

Order sites: Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Finding-Jordie-Crimson-Romance-ebook/dp/B00B03EHTQ
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Book trailer http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=egzwbzweghs

HJ is just a Jersey girl surviving in the good ol’ South. She’s a fan of sunglasses, good coffee, original stories, her pets, and laughing with friends. Most importantly, she loves being a mother to her beautiful daughter.

Follow H.J. Harley: Twitter: @HJ_Harley & Facebook: www.facebook.com/authorhjharley

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Bloodfire by Helen Harper

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Mack is a human living with a pack of shifters in England. Unfortunately for her, humans aren’t even supposed to know about shifters, and when her alpha is murdered and the attention of the Brethren lands on the pack, what will she do?

This is a wonderful fantasy novel, and although it has hints of a possible future romance it cannot of itself be considered anything but a fantasy novel. If you’ve come across this review expecting this to be a romance then please be informed that it isn’t. Don’t let that discourage you, though! If you enjoy stories with magic and shifters then this is a good book to add to your “to read” pile.

The story is told well, the characters are consistent, and when you reach the end you’ll find that you’ll want to read the next one as soon as possible.

The only thing that I didn’t care for about this book was that it really could have used someone to go over it for grammar and typo errors. That won’t stop me from picking up a reading the next one, though!

Disclaimer: I received a free copy of this book in exchange for my honest review.

~Aurora

BLOOD DESTINY SERIES
by Helen Harper

Book Descriptions:

Bloodfire

Mackenzie Smith has always known that she was different. Growing up as the only human in a pack of rural shapeshifters will do that to you, but then couple it with some mean fighting skills and a fiery temper and you end up with a woman that few will dare to cross. However, when the only father figure in her life is brutally murdered, and the dangerous Brethren with their predatory Lord Alpha come to investigate, Mack has to not only ensure the physical safety of her adopted family by hiding her apparent humanity, she also has to seek the blood-soaked vengeance that she craves.

Bloodmagic

After escaping the claws of Corrigan, the Lord Alpha of the Brethren, Mack is trying to lead a quiet lonely life in Inverness in rural Scotland, away from anyone who might happen to be a shapeshifter. However, when she lands a job at an old bookstore owned by a mysterious elderly woman who not only has a familiar passion for herbal lore but also seems to know more than she should, Mack ends up caught in a maelstrom between the Ministry of Mages, the Fae and the Brethren.

Now she has to decide between staying hidden and facing the music, as well as confronting her real feelings for the green eyed power of Corrigan himself.

Bloodrage

Mack begins her training at the mages’ academy in the hope that, by complying, the stasis spell will be lifted from her old friend, Mrs. Alcoon. However, once there, she finds herself surrounded by unfriendly adults and petulant teenagers, the majority of whom seem determined to see her fail.

Feeling attacked on all fronts, Mack finds it harder and harder to keep a rein on her temper. Forced to attend anger management classes and deal with the predatory attentions of Corrigan, the Lord Alpha of the shapeshifter world, her emotions start to unravel. But when she comes across a familiar text within the walls of the mages’ library, which might just provide the clues she needs to unlock the secrets of her background and her dragon blood, she realises that her problems are only just beginning…

Contest:
Helen will award a $25 Amazon GC to one randomly drawn commenter during the tour.

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About the Author:

Helen Harper is an English teacher currently living abroad in Malaysia. As a long time reader of urban fantasy, she finally bit the bullet and began to develop her own series of novels.

Helen has always been a book lover, devouring science fiction and fantasy tales when she was a child growing up in Scotland. “I always loved the escapism provided by those genres,” states Helen. “No matter how bad life gets, you can always find a route out, even if only temporarily, in the pages of a good book.”

The growth of urban fantasy fascinated her – the mix of reality and fantasy along with strong heroic female characters appealed from the very beginning, and inspired her to write her own.

FACEBOOK | TWITTER

Amazon buy links:
BLOODFIRE | BLOODMAGIC | BLOODRAGE

Book Excerpt from Bloodfire:

I jogged along a small brook until it curved upstream towards the hills, then hopped over it and headed towards where I knew John would be. I finally found him crouched in a clearing, not far from the edges of the moor.

“You sound like an elephant running through those trees,” he complained.

I put my hands on my hips and raised an eyebrow. “Is that the thanks I’m getting for interrupting my run to come and investigate the over-energetic dalliances of some bunny rabbits?”

“That was one time.” He straightened up. His salt and pepper beard and bald head, along with the laughter lines around his eyes, hinted at the wisdom and experience contained within that smart mind of his. John had been alpha in Cornwall for thirty-two years, and was universally liked and respected by the pack, but that didn’t mean that I couldn’t still have a little fun.

“So what is it this time? Don’t tell me, I’ve got it, a sheep has gotten lost on the moor and its bleating is terrifying the farmers.”

He held out his palm. There was a small shiny black object resting in the middle. “I wish that’s what it was,” he said grimly. “Take a look at this.”

I picked it up from his hand and rolled it through my fingers. It was almost entirely weightless, and very smooth. There was also something else. I held it up to my ear and heard an odd chiming sound.

John looked at me sharply. “You can hear it?”

“Sure,” I said surprised.

“Describe it to me.”

“You mean you can’t hear it?” I was puzzled. Compared to my own hearing, John could hear a leaf drop from fifty paces away. “It’s like bells. Only not, it’s more continuous than that. Like a never-ending echo of a chime.”

He pursed his lips, clearly unhappy. “It’s a wichtlein’s stone.”

“A mine fairy’s? They knock three times and a miner drops dead?”

“You’ve been reading too many fairy tales. Wichtleins do sometimes hang around old mines and tease the men that work there, but more often than not they are true harbingers of evil. I don’t think one has been seen in the British Isles for more than a century.”

Tour Schedule

Motherhood Matters

Motherhood is a divine calling—but it may not always feel that way. Now you can show the women in your life how much they matter to you, with this delightful and heartwarming volume of wit and wisdom about the divinity, reality, and rewards of motherhood. Fresher than flowers and sweeter than chocolate, it’s a perfect gift for the women who give so much.

In these hectic days where life’s demands can quickly become a heavy burden, Motherhood Matters helps you find more memorable moments and take the stress out of the to-do lists. Written with clarity, concision, and wit, this short, yet indispensable handbook is better than flowers, more guilt-free than chocolate, and gives back to the woman who sacrifices so much of herself every single day.

Amazon * Barnes & Noble

Author Connie Sokol

Connie Sokol is a mother of seven, a national and local presenter, and a regular speaker at Education Week. She is a monthly contributor on KSL TV “Studio 5,” and regular blogger for KSL “Motherhood Matters.” She is a former TV and radio host for Bonneville Communications, and columnist for Deseret News and Utah Valley Magazine. Mrs. Sokol is the author of several books including the award-nominated romance Caribbean Crossroads, the 8-week Challenge program of Faithful, Fit & Fabulous, Life is Too Short for One Hair Color Series, as well as talk CDs and podcasts. Mrs. Sokol marinates in time spent with her family and eating decadent treats.

Tour Giveaway

$25 Amazon Gift Card or Paypal Cash

Ends 5/15/13

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Motherhood Matters: Joyful Reminders of the Divinity, Reality, and Rewards of Motherhood by Connie E. Sokol
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I received a review copy in exchange for my participation in the blog tour. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

When I saw this book on the list of books to read and review for a blog tour I was excited. Wow, a woman who gave birth to her seventh child at the age of forty-five and who wanted to share her wisdom about raising children.

Instead what I read seemed more like a college essay full of quotes from people and scripture that I’d never heard of before {they’re from the Book of Mormon as I later found out from doing some investigation. Ms. Sokol is part of the LDS faith}. There was very little of Ms. Sokol’s personal experience of being a mother and what it’s like not only to raise seven children, but to have a son with Asperger’s that is in college. As the mother of a teenage son who has been diagnosed with AS, I would have loved to know more about how she handled having a special needs child and how the rest of the family worked together to keep their house running smoothly.

Overall, the scriptures made me think and the few glimpses made me smile. Would I recommend this book? Not without explaining my take on it first.

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NOTE: I received a complimentary copy of this book in return for my honest review.

Review: Serena Clarke’s debut novel lives up to its title All Over The Place. While I did like it, the story itself seemed to jump around a lot and with the constant stream of new characters it made it unnecessarily complex and just a tad hard to follow. There were several elements, like Livi’s parental drama, that I felt could have been left out entirely as they added very little to the story and seemed more like filler than anything else. Maybe with a little reworking they could have been incorporated a little more smoothly into the story. Livi was endearing in her awkwardness through her search to find herself and the charming, sexy owner of the backpack that she accidentally ended up with after a chance meeting on the tube. The other characters that popped up, with a few exceptions, definitely served to liven up the novel and I liked the majority of them, even if there were one too many. The author has a good “voice” and wrote with humor and a touch of sassiness that won me over in the end. The British terms did throw me for a loop at first, but luckily my Kindle’s dictionary was pretty worldly and when it couldn’t offer any suggestions as to a possible meaning it turned out it wasn’t too hard to figure out for myself. It got easier as time went on as I slipped farther into the story and its setting. I can’t say much about the ending for fear of giving too much away but it was sweet and satisfying and made the entire book worth reading, in my opinion. If you’re in the mood for a adventure/romance or a relatively quick, fun beach read then this is your cup of tea (which, by the way, you’ll be craving after all of the mentions it gets! ).
Jessa’s Rating: 3 out of 5 stars

Can’t wait to start reading All Over The Place? Get your copy HERE. Be sure to check out the blurb, author bio, and enter the giveaway HERE.

All Over the Place
By: Serena Clarke

Blurb
Livi Callaway has fled back to London after a reality TV disaster in New Zealand. Safely anonymous in the big city, she’s determined to stay under the radar from now on. But her attempts to build a new life are complicated by unexpected visitors from her old one, and new dangers and temptations lie in wait.
Late one night, she meets a mysteriously sexy American on the Underground – and the events that follow take her from Pooh Bear to the golden lights of Paris, via a trail of rock stars dead and alive. A family in disarray, a determined Swede, a crazed Australian and a childhood friend (who might yet be more than that) have her all over the place as she tries to discover the American’s secret – while keeping her own.
With help – and occasional hindrance – from her friends, what she eventually finds is something unexpected . . . sometimes, running away can lead you to exactly what you didn’t know you needed

Author Bio:

Serena Clarke has had her fair share of adventures and disasters, living in thirty-nine houses, in seven cities, in four countries. She’s now settled in New Zealand, and all those ups and downs provide great inspiration for writing. Luckily, she has a tall, dark, and handsome husband to help look after their two boys while she dreams up stories. Turns out that happily-ever-afters happen in real life too.

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Author Links:
WEBSITE | TWITTER | FACEBOOK | CRIMSON ROMANCE

Excerpt:
After the third time, an American voice said, “You’re like an onion tonight.”
She turned and replied, without thinking, “That’s not the kind of vegetable I’d choose to be.”
The instant the words left her lips she knew it was all wrong. A mere second too late, it was blindingly obvious that he had said not onion, but yo–yo. How could she possibly have imagined that anyone would randomly liken her to an onion? Now, as she looked up at tanned skin, dark eyes, glossy hair, and teeth that could only be from across the Atlantic, her heart beat out of sync. She took in distressed jeans, vintage polo shirt, and a battered leather satchel hanging from his shoulder.
Suddenly she was unsteady on her feet, not just because the train was lurching unevenly. Looking at his face, perplexed and amused, she willed the floor to open up and drop her on the tracks. She would rather be electrocuted on the line than be a late–night crazy person on the Underground under his perfectly proportioned scrutiny. But there was nowhere to escape until the next stop, so she stood, cheeks flaming, praying he would take pity on her and pretend he hadn’t heard anything.
Instead, he said thoughtfully, “No, if you were a vegetable it would be something much more delicious. Sweet corn…cherry tomato, maybe.”
Was he flirting? She chanced another glance. A rugged sweep of stubble and a scar on his jaw roughened his looks, only making him more compelling. Well, of course, she thought, anyone who looks like that must flirt for a living. But suddenly she was uncomfortably aware of the harsh lights, and how tired she must look. She ran her hand through her hair, though she knew it wouldn’t make any difference. “That’s a nice thing to say,” was all she could think of to reply.
“My mom always said, you know, if you can’t say anything nice…she was English, she liked good manners. Plus, it’s important to say nice things to nice girls, don’t you think?” And he gave her a wink.
She couldn’t help laughing, he was so shameless. “How come you can get away with being so cheeky just because you do it in that accent?”
“You tell me,” he replied. “I don’t think you spring from round here either.”
Just then the train began to slow again, and there was a surge as people started to squeeze along to the doors. The American put his arms out and made a protective space around her, shaking his head. “Oh, no. You can stay here this time. I’m not letting you go until I solve this mystery.”
Up close he smelled warm and woody and clean, and she had to stop herself leaning in, eyes closed, and breathing deeply. At this distance he could probably hear her heart pounding. His full mouth turned up at the corners, a permanently tempting curve. Her hips threatened to arc towards him in a very inappropriate way. She wouldn’t have been surprised at the crackle of blue sparks. If she actually made contact with any part of him, she felt, there was a real chance she would just burst into flames.
Then the doors closed and the train started moving, and he grabbed the overhead strap to steady himself. “Maybe that was my stop,” she said, heady from their closeness. “Then what would I have done?”
“Come for a drink with me?”
She was enjoying this now, feeling a glow, forgetting her embarrassment, and her sore feet and backache from standing in the salon all day. “At this time of night, unless you want to go clubbing, I don’t know where you’d find somewhere to just have a drink. This isn’t LA or New York.”
“I’m not from LA or New York, I’m from Idaho.” He looked at her closely. “And maybe I didn’t mean somewhere.”
“Ah,” she said, and suddenly felt a little flat. That’s right, she knew this story. Off she would go to his place, with him and his charm and banter. They’d have a night that seemed unbelievable. And the next day it would be unbelievable, unbelievably awkward, as she pulled on yesterday’s clothes and tried to find her way to an unfamiliar tube station, with unbrushed hair and uncleaned teeth. The walk of shame. She had no interest in taking it. There was a time, when she’d first arrived, maybe…but not any more.
Her change of mood must have shown. He said, “I’m sorry, maybe that’s not something you should say to a nice girl from…?”
Looking at his expectant, handsome face, she gave herself an internal shake. Lighten up now, she said to herself, he’s just a guy on a train, even if he does look like he stepped out of a catalogue. Just enjoy that someone, maybe, fancies you a little. And she pushed her shoulders back and put her smile back on.
“Actually, I was born here, but I’ve been living a long way away. Further away than you.”
His face lit up. “Australia!”
“No, sorry to disappoint you.” Why was Australia always the first guess? Anyone would think there was no populated land beyond Sydney. Next stop Antarctica.
“Well then…damn, this is my stop.” They lurched together as the train made a last jolt, and his satchel banged against her hip. All at once she was aware of the crush of other travellers again, as they began their relentless move towards the door. The American was carried along in front of two large ladies, but called over their shoulders, “We could try to find somewhere.”
She hesitated for a moment, not wanting him to be gone. Then, just as the two of them realised his bag buckle had caught on hers, the large ladies swept him out and the doors closed. They looked at each other through the glass, his expression going through a progression from confusion to surprise to a sort of panic. And she was left holding his bag as the train pulled away.

What was it like writing about a woman whose life is utter chaos, but still strong?

I was actually surprised by this question. I never thought Annie’s life was chaos…but I guess it can appear that way. Annie was actually a work-in-progress as I wrote her. I had to go back and do a fair amount of revision before her personality became clear. Sometimes she was too whiny. Sometimes she was too much of a doormat. I still think when I read the first chapter that she doesn’t seem very likable (I hate the way she treats Jeremy), but in writing about her younger years, she really blossoms. I didn’t want her to be perceived as a pushover, because even with her insecurities she was a woman who knew what her heart wanted, she was just unsure of how to obtain it. Once I got a good hold of her personality she was easy to write. She never gave herself credit for being intuitive, or witty, or intelligent. I think there are many women who fail to recognize how strong they really are and define themselves by some unattainable standard – Annie was one of those women. As a younger woman she had dreams that were somewhat unrealistic and she had to deal with that as she aged and real life settled in. It’s something we all go through. We all had (or have) dreams of what we think life will be and then we live what life gives us. So in some ways, I was writing a bit of every woman’s story. Hopefully, we have less meddling friends and husbands as true and devoted as Jeremy. Does that answer the question? I hope so. I’m glad that you perceived Annie as a strong woman, because she really is.

Author A.R. Talley

April R Talley was born and raised in the Rubber City, Akron, Ohio in 1959. She is the youngest of six children. She attended Brigham Young University for a time, but withdrew to work fulltime for Osmond Productions in Orem, Utah as a member of The Osmond production staff. After a brief stint working in television, she returned to Akron to finish her education. She graduated with a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Mass Media Communications in 1981. April later worked as vice president and part owner of a dance and sportswear boutique. Married in 1982, she is the proud mother of seven children and is deeply involved in volunteer work for her church. April spends her time working on future projects, caring for home and family, and traveling. David’s Song is her debut novel and the first of a trilogy.

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