Where I share my love of books with reviews, features, giveaways and memes. Family and needlepoint are thrown in from time to time.

Tuesday, March 8, 2016

Book Tour/Review: Secrets Don't Make Friends by Lyla Payne

Title: Secrets Don't Make Friends
Author: Lyla Payne


About the book: Jeyne Dalton has graduated from college, medical school, and has slogged through half of a surgical internship year with flying colors, which she figures HAS to mean she’s put her past – and her family – behind her for good. If only she hadn’t answered that random ad for a roommate, her life would be pretty damn perfect. 

Dinah Robbins knows that, no matter what she does, the horror that is her life will never be behind her…unless her controlling, threatening, abusive boyfriend finally kills her. She’s floating, waiting, and advertised for a roommate as a last ditch, listless effort to save herself a few beatings here and there. 

Jeyne and Dinah may have been roommates for months, but they’re not anything like friends. In fact, they hardly know each other at all – until the night Jeyne comes home late to find Dinah in a heap of trouble. The two girls then find themselves sharing a secret that brings them together in a way they never expected. And upends their lives in a way they may never be able to set right. 


My thoughts:  This book started out pretty heavy with a very realistic scene between Dinah and Tritt - her abusive boyfriend.  It was very hard for me to read because of personal reasons (no, nothing happened to me, but to someone very close to me). I am glad that I stayed with it though.  I liked the way that the friendship between Jeyne and Dinah developed after that first night.  They had both been very careful with letting anyone close to them and it was cool to see them slowly open up to each other and learn to trust.  The same can be said about the men in their lives. 

With Jeyne it was Nathan, a fellow doctor who has been her study partner for months.  She has been attracted to him from the beginning,  but until recently didn't think he was interested in her.  Unfortunately he is keeping secrets of his own and when they come out, Jeyne is not sure that they can still be friends - let alone anything else.

Dinah becomes friends with Eli - Tritt's younger brother.  She discovers things about him that make her realize that there were people who were trying to help her, even when she wasn't willing/able to help herself.  Overcoming/forgetting what brought them together might be tougher than they think though.

I liked this book and read it very quickly.  This looks like it might be the first in a series - so looking forward to what comes next. 

About the author: Lyla Payne has been publishing New Adult romance novels for a little over a year, starting with Broken at Love and continuing with the rest of the Whitman University series and the Lowcountry Ghost stories. She loves telling stories, discovering the little reasons people fall in love, and uncovering hidden truths in the world around us - past and present. In her spare time she cuddles her two dogs, pretends to enjoy exercising so that she can eat as much Chipotle as she wants, and harbors a deep and abiding hope that Zac Efron likes older women. She loves reading, of course, along with movies, traveling, and Irish whiskey. 

Lyla Payne is represented by Kathleen Rushall at Marsal Lyon Literary Agency.

If you want to know more, please visit her at http://lylapayne.com

If you're a fan of Young Adult fiction--science fiction or otherwise--please check out her work that's published under the name Trisha Leigh. http://trishaleigh.com

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Friday, March 4, 2016

Promo Blitz: Visions Through a Glass, Darkly by David I. Aboulafia






Visions Through a Glass, Darkly
by David I. Aboulafia
Psychological Suspense
Date Published: January 29, 2016

Two days, eighteen hours, fifty-eight minutes…The time of your life on this earth. Richard Goodman is the caretaker of a unique institution that trains disabled youth in the art of watchmaking. But he is no ordinary administrator. He possesses extrasensory powers he does not fully understand and cannot control.

But an innocent outing to Coney Island results in him obtaining a more disturbing ability, along with a terrifying prophecy that he will die in less than three days. As the clock of his life counts down, a still greater threat emerges. An uncanny assassin who will destroy everyone he knows and loves.

Unless he can discover who the killer is. And stop him in time.

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Praise for Visions Through a Glass, Darkly:
“A taut novel of suspense with a thread of the supernatural, Visions Through a Glass, Darkly seizes the reader’s attention and will not let go. Lurking underneath the saga of a psychic’s imminent mortality and the threat of a ruthless murderer are deeper thematic questions about the essence of human free will. An unforgettable, dizzying kaleidoscope of a thrill ride!” – Micah Andrews, Midwest Book Review



EXCERPT


Kara lies unconscious on the bed. The light bed covers accentuate her slightly swollen midsection. Richard pulls the covers back and places his hands there gently, ever so gently, looking up towards her eyes. Tears stain his face and it is all he can do to prevent bawling outright. He chokes back his anguish.

                And then he feels the movement, almost imperceptible, like a feather gliding over water, raising his fingers ever so slightly.

                She is alive. He knows she is a girl, and that she is his child, without having to consider how he knows.

                I’ve got a special announcement and I want to be in a fun place, DIG?

                He looks at Kara again, and tries at the same time to catch any stirring with his peripheral vision. Before him lies his hope for a future, just trying to survive a little longer now in her warm dark place.

                He forgets for a moment that the doctor is here. If she has noticed his blood covered clothing, she hasn’t let on that she has. She isn’t very old, this doctor of medicine, her human feelings not yet hardened to cold steel by a thousand unpreventable demises, her eyes not yet blinded to the suffering of the infirm, her ears not yet closed to the cries of the dying and those who love them.  

                He senses her spirit. She holds suffering at bay by the force of her will. She has acquired skill, and knowledge, and uses these as her weapons in her daily battles with the horrifying aftermath of blind fate, or poor choices, or bad luck. Sometimes, she prevails.

                She has also gained wisdom, enough to know that every victory is fleeting, that she may hold the bastion for only a little while, and that ultimately she is powerless to halt the advance of time, or death. For we are all so fragile; each of us and all of us together; so breakable, so faulty.   

                And Richard knows that she feels this, as well: That whatever it is she truly clashes against, that one day it will stop, and turn around, and reveal itself to her, and she will see It as if for the very first time. And then It will take her, as if in payment for the lives she has stolen.  

                Richard looked up at the physician, afraid of the truth he would see in her eyes. He never got that far, really. The Wave swept over him as it never had before, as if it had a weight and a mass all its own, robbing the oxygen from the air, choking him, catching the hope in his throat and making it impossible for him to speak. It covered him in a dank blanket of misery and wretchedness, pushing him far past the point where he was even capable of articulating the question “why,” to a desolate place where that word has no meaning, where the only explanation in reply is “because.”

                The Wave forced his eyes closed and compelled him to See, and what he perceived was himself as a character in Dostoevsky's novel, standing there on a rock three feet wide by three feet long, looking out over an endless sea with no other land in sight, with lightening crackling in the air and rain pouring down relentlessly, forever and for always, that black storm cresting, that ageless ocean lying before him until the end of time, he and It, he and It and nothing more; loneliness, true loneliness, killing the spirit and the soul but unmercifully leaving the body alive, leaving nothing but the husk of a man containing his skin, his bones, and his internal organs; lungs breathing, heart beating, body wracked by pain, pouring sweat, unwilling to stand but unable to fall, no reason to live but unable to die; not a scavenger in the sky, not the lowliest insect crawling on the ground, not even the dorsal fin of some fearsome beast below, nothing and no one, forever and for always alone alone alone.

                Here is fear, here is the end of all things, where all roads terminate, where all horror truly begins, where It lies and lives and rules and lords over nothing and everything; unspeakable dread where time does not exist, beyond reality, beyond the imagination of any reality, the mouth of the demon, the Center, the core, not a star in the firmament nor the faintest hope that there ever was, that there ever could be, that there ever will be, not here.

                Forever and for always. He was to be alone.   





About the Author: David I. Aboulafia is an attorney with a practice in New York City. He is also the author of “Snapshots from my Uneventful Life,” an irreverant collection of comedic essays.

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Wednesday, March 2, 2016

Promo Blitz: The Road Leads Back by Marci Boudreaux







Title: The Road Leads Back
Author: Marci Boudreaux
Contemporary Romance
Date Published: April 2015

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Kara Martinson and Harry Canton weren’t exactly high school sweethearts, but they did share one night neither will ever forget. Twenty-seven years later, Harry surprises Kara at an art gallery opening and discovers he left her with more than just memories when he went away to college. Desperate to connect with the family he never knew existed, Harry convinces his son to move to Stonehill—and pleads with Kara to come, too.

Kara hasn’t stepped foot in their hometown since the day she was sent away to a home for unwed mothers. Now Harry’s back in her life and as they put together the pieces of his parents’ betrayal, old heartaches start to feel anew. She wants to be near her family, but returning to Iowa means facing some things…and some people…she isn’t quite ready to.

Can Harry convince her to forgive those who betrayed her so they can embrace the future they were robbed of so long ago? Or will the pain of the past be too much for Kara to overcome?


Other books in the Stonehill Romance Series




Excerpt


Kara squeezed her way toward the crowded bar, nudging between two kids who she couldn’t quite believe were old enough to be legally drinking in public. Shouldn’t they be funneling cheap beer in a college dorm somewhere? Or sneaking shots from Daddy’s liquor cabinet?

Art gallery openings used to be much more sophisticated than this. When she was a young artist, openings were about appreciating the art and the artist, not the free booze.

Shit.

Had she really gone there? Kara shook her head at her bitter thoughts.

The bartender, a walking tattoo with spiked black hair, leaned close so she could hear him. “What’ll it be?”

She realized all she wanted was wine. And quiet. The kids around her were acting more like pre-teens jacked up on sugar than art aficionados. One made a face, squished and reddened, as he held up an empty shot glass as proof of his triumph.

She wondered when she had gotten so damned old. She never used to snub her nose at a good drink. Actually, she completely understood what her problem was, and it had nothing to do with age. She’d conformed. She’d fallen into line. She’d done what she was supposed to do. Agent? Check. Gallery opening? Check. Interviews with all the local fancy-pants magazines? Check.

But this wasn’t her. None of this was her.

Frowning, she leaned in as well, making sure he heard her over the jeering of the kids next to her. “Tequila.” Within seconds he set a glass in front of her and filled it with amber liquid. He started to walk away but she held up one hand and lifted the glass with the other. She downed the drink, slammed the glass down, and gestured for another—one shot wasn’t nearly enough to numb the misery of this evening.

The young man lifted his brows and smirked as he gav­­­e her another shot. He laughed as she motioned for him to fill the glass a third time. “I can’t do this all night, lady.”

“One more.”

“Some of the crap in here costs more than my car. No puking. Got it?”

Kara chuckled. Clearly he didn’t recognize her as the artist who had made the crap. “Honey, I was doing tequila shots before your daddy dropped his pants and made you.”

The barkeep threw his head back and laughed, then filled her glass one more time. “Nice one, babe.”

Babe? Kara snorted as she lifted the glass. It was almost to her lips when a hand squeezed her shoulder.

 “Kara?” asked a deep, smooth voice as if the man wasn’t certain who he was touching.

She turned. Her eyes bulged as she looked into an intense dark gaze she hadn’t seen since the night she’d lost her virginity.

The music had been loud, the beer lukewarm, and everybody who was anybody—and several nobody’s like Kara and Harry—in their senior class of Stonehill High was at the graduation party. The only person she had cared about, though, didn’t care about her. Or so she’d thought. Until she’d somehow ended up on Shannon Blake’s disgustingly pink- and ruffle-covered bed with Harry Canton, book club president and algebra superstar, clumsily removing her clothes, leaving slobbery kisses in their wake.

Kara swallowed hard as the flash of a memory faded, and the man standing before her, looking as shocked as she felt, came back into view.

She downed the liquor, slammed the glass against the bar, and sighed before she announced, “I’ve been looking for you for twenty-seven years.”

He sank onto the vacant stool next to her and lifted his hands as if he were at a loss for words. Something that appeared to be guilt filled his eyes and made his full lips sag into a frown. She’d be damned if temptation didn’t hit her as hard as it had when she was a hormonal teen.

“I wanted to tell you I was leaving,” he said, “but I didn’t know how.”

“You should have tried something like, ‘Kara, I’m leaving.’”

“You’re right. But I was a kid. I didn’t have a lot of common sense. All I could think about was how I finally had my freedom.”

She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at him. “You had your freedom? You selfish prick.”

His eyes widened. “Well, that might be a little harsh. I was just a kid, Kara. Yes, I should have told you I had no intention of staying with you, but I was a little overwhelmed by what had happened. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

Harry’s shoulders slumped as if he had given up justifying sneaking out on her in the middle of the night. “Look, I saw a flier for your gallery opening, and I wanted to say hello. I thought maybe… I don’t know what I was thinking.” He sounded hurt, dejected even. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He stood. She put her hand to his chest and shoved him back onto the barstool. The move instantly reminded of her their one night together. All of seventeen and totally inexperienced, she’d fancied herself a seductress and pushed him on the bed before straddling his hips like she had a clue what she was doing.

Touching his chest now, warmth radiated through her entire body.

She glared, pulling her hand away and squeezing her fingers into a fist. “Are you living in Seattle?”

He shook his head. “I had a conference in town. There were fliers at the hotel. As soon as I saw your picture, I knew I had to come.” His smile returned and excitement radiated from his face. “I can’t believe you have a gallery opening. This is amazing, Kare.”

She wasn’t nearly as thrilled by her accomplishment as he seemed to be. She felt like she was selling her soul instead of her art. She’d always preferred to go the indie route, but that crap agent had cornered her at a particularly vulnerable moment and convinced her she needed him…just like he convinced her she needed to be in a gallery. Although, now she was glad she’d conceded on the open bar.

The tequila swirled through her, making her muscles tingle, preventing her from fully engaging the near-three decades of anger she’d been harboring. She had spent an awfully long time wanting to give Harry Canton a piece of her mind.

Even so, hearing him say she’d done something amazing warmed her in a way very little ever had. If he had come looking for another one-night stand, she hated to admit that she would consider reliving that night again—only this time with more sexual experience and less expectation of him sticking around.

He might be almost three decades older, but his face was still handsome and his brown eyes were just as inviting as they had been when he was a high school prodigy and she was a wallflower.

She smirked at a realization: he was in a suit, probably having just left a corporate meeting, while she was wearing a red sari-inspired dress at her gallery opening.

He was still the straight arrow. She was still the eccentric artist.

“Did you hear what I said, Harry? About looking for you for the last twenty-seven years.”

His shoulders sagged. “I never meant to sleep with you that night. I mean”—he quickly lifted his hands—“I was leaving and should have told you before taking you upstairs. I shouldn’t have just left like that, but I didn’t think you wanted to see me again anyway. If it’s any consolation,” he said giving her a smile that softened the rough edges of her anger, “I’d been working up the courage to kiss you since junior year when you squeezed a tube of red paint in Mitch Friedman’s hair after he made jokes about Frida Kahlo’s eyebrows in art class.”

She frowned at him. That hadn’t been her finest hour. Then again, neither was waking up thinking she was starting a new life as a high school graduate and the girlfriend of the cutest boy she’d ever met, only to find the other side of the homecoming queen’s bed empty. “There’s nothing wrong with a woman embracing her natural beauty.”

His smile faded quickly. “I’m sorry,” he said, sounding sincere. “I shouldn’t have left you like I did. I hope you believe that I regret it. Not being with you,” he amended, “but leaving without explaining.”

She laughed softly. He’d had that same nervous habit in high school. He’d say what was on his mind and then instantly try to recover, afraid his words had come out wrong. Usually they had. For as awkward as she’d been, at least she’d always been able to say what she meant and to stand behind it. Of course, that ability got her in trouble more often than not.

She’d told herself a million times that Harry didn’t owe her an explanation. They hadn’t been in any kind of relationship. She’d drooled over him from afar, but other than an occasional smile in the hallway, he’d barely acknowledged her existence in high school. Even if he hadn’t gone off to start his Ivy League college career the day after graduation, he likely never would have looked at her again. Well, at least not until she could no longer hide the truth of their one-night stand from the world.

 “I expected so much more from you, Harry,” she said sadly, the sting of what he’d done back then numbed slightly by the tequila.

His shoulders sagged a bit. “I know.”

“Why didn’t you ever write me back?” Her voice sounded hurt and pathetic. She was surprised that after so many years of being angry, there was still pain hiding beneath her fury. “I must have sent you a hundred letters.”

He creased his brow. “Letters? I didn’t get any letters.”

Kara searched his eyes. He looked genuinely confused.

“I sent them to…” Her words faded. Suddenly the tequila-induced haze wasn’t so welcome. “Your mother said if I wrote to you, she’d make sure you got my letters.”

“My mother? I never got any letters.”

“But you sent money.”

Harry shook his head slightly. “What the hell are you talking about? Why would I send you money?”

She stared at him as realization set in. He hadn’t responded to her letters because he hadn’t received her letters. And if he hadn’t received the letters, he hadn’t sent her money. And if he hadn’t sent her money, he hadn’t known that she needed it. Sighing, she let some of her decades-old anger slip. Her head spun, either from the alcohol or the blurry dots she was trying to mentally connect. Leaning onto the bar, she exhaled slowly. “She never told you, did she?”

“Told me what?”

Kara couldn’t speak. Her words wouldn’t form.

An arm wrapped around Kara’s shoulder, startling her and making her gasp quietly. She turned and blinked several times at the man who had just slid next to her.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, “but I need to get home.” Leaning in, he kissed her head. “Congratulations on the opening, Mom. It was great.”

“Um…” She swallowed, desperate to find her voice. “Thank you, sweetheart.” She flicked her gaze at the man sitting next to her. The longer Harry looked at her son, the wider Harry’s eyes became.

Phil cast a disapproving glance at Harry then focused on his mother again. “Don’t forget that Jess is expecting you to make pancakes in the morning. You promised.”

“I haven’t forgotten.” Kara returned her attention to Harry. His jaw was slack and his cheeks had grown pale.

Phil nodded at Harry as if he were satisfied that he’d made the point that his mother didn’t need to be staying out all night and walked away. Harry watched him leave while Kara waved down the bartender and pointed at her glass. The tattooed kid hesitated, likely debating the ethics of giving her another shot. She pointed again, cocking a brow for emphasis, and he finally filled her glass.

“Kara…” Harry’s voice was breathless, like he’d been kicked in the gut. “Was…was that my…son?”

No. His mother definitely hadn’t given him the letters Kara had written. She lifted her shot, toasting him. “Congratulations, Harry. It’s a boy.”







About the Author

As a teen, Marci Boudreaux skipped over young adult books and jumped right into the world of romance novels. She’s never left. Marci lives with her husband, two kiddos, and their numerous pets. She is a freelance writer appearing monthly in a variety of local magazines as well as a content editor.
Romance is her preferred reading and writing genre because nothing feels better than falling in love with someone new and her husband doesn’t like when she does that in real life.



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February Wrap Up

I must say that February seemed to fly by.  We had a few days of nice weather scattered there towards the end, and that helped to feel like spring really is ready to arrive!

I have still been doing a lot of reading, but have yet to review all those books from January!

These books were read and reviewed in February:
Goat Mountain by David Vann
Brotherhood in Death by J.D. Robb
How Willa Got Her Groove Back by Emily McKay
Love Me Love Me Not by Alyxandra Harvey
Orhan's Inheritance by Aline Ohanesian
Only Love Can Break Your Heart by Ed Tarkington

Read in February and waiting for reviews:
Into the Dim by Janet Taylor (LOVED THIS ONE)
A Ghostly Undertaking by Tonya Kappes
A Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne




I also got to attend ANDERSON’S BOOKSHOPS’ 14th ANNUAL CHILDREN’S LITERATURE BREAKFAST.



The keynote speakers were Barney Saltzberg,   Loren Long,  Lauren Tarshis,
  Sara Pennypacker and Chris Grabenstein.  I bought some of the "I Survived" books for my son and had Lauren sign them to him.  I also picked up a couple of books, In the End and In the After by Demetria Lunetta for myself.  There were some author chats at our tables and I had the pleasure of meeting Nancy Grossman, Lisa Maggiore, Mike Grosso, Stacey Previn and the Dinosaur Lady.




My latest needlepoint that I am working on is called Starry Skies from Nancy's Needle.



Review: Only Love Can Break Your Heart by Ed Tarkington

Title: Only Love Can Break Your Heart
Author: Ed Tarkington
Publisher: Algonquin Books
Publication Date: Jan 5, 2016

(From the cover): Welcome to Spencerville, Virginia, 1977.  Teenagers still roamed wild and free. Elementary school kids could walk to school on their own.  Daughters were safe from the clutches of filthy hippies and horny English rock stars in tight leather britches.  Sons worshipped God, loved their mothers, and feared their fathers.

Eight-year-old Rocky worships his older brother, Paul.  Sixteen and full of rebel cool, Paul spends his days cruising in his Chevy Nova blasting Neil Young, cigarette dangling from his lips, arm slung around his beautiful, troubled girlfriend.

Paul is happy to have his younger brother as his sidekick -- until the day Paul, in an act of vengeance against their father, picks up Rocky from school and nearly abandons him in the woods.  Afterward, Paul disappears.

Seven years later, Rocky is a teenager himself.  He hasn't forgotten being abandoned by his boyhood hero, but he's getting over it, with the help of the wealthy neighbors' daughter, ten years his senior, who has taken him as her lover.  Unbeknownst to both of them, their affair will set in motion a course of events that rains catastrophe on both their families.  After a mysterious double murder brings terror and suspicion to their small town, Rocky and his family must reckon with the past and find out how much forgiveness their hearts can hold. 

My thoughts: I loved this book. It was beautifully written and the setting, late 70's early 80's was portrayed perfectly.  Having been a tween/teen in those years I could easily see things through Rocky's eyes and felt a kinship towards him.  This is a story about Rocky's family and by extension, his brother's ex-girlfriend and the family who lives next door.  

We get our first look at the house next door, which has been abandoned for years, when Paul and Rocky decide to visit it late one night.  They did not know that it had been sold and Paul was shot in the leg by the new owner.  This gives some foreshadowing to the tragedy that will happen their many years in the future. 


After Paul does his vanishing act, with his girlfriend, Leigh. Rocky is left to deal with his mother (Paul's stepmother) and father on his own.  While their father always overlooked what Paul did, his stepmother was not so forgiving.  She was always quick to point out his 'bad boy' ways. His father was always looking for the next big deal, and when his neighbor convinces him to invest some money, he takes everything they have -- including the company that he has built from the ground up -- and puts it all in.  He is riding high thinking that the wealthy in town will finally have to accept him -- only the deal crashes -- and with it, his health. He is left an invalid and Rocky and his mother must learn to copy under even leaner circumstances.   

Years pass and Rocky can't believe his eyes when he sees Leigh riding on a horse at his neighbor's house. This encounter puts him in contact with one of his neighbors,  Patricia - a young lady 10 years older than him.  She is also a little messed up and quickly takes the upper hand in their relationship, becoming his lover.  She seems to be pretty bitter about life, and is not really a good influence on Rocky at all. 

Leigh is now engaged to Patricia's brother, but days before the wedding she feels the need to warn Rocky about Patricia and also to unload on him all the trauma she has been through since she ran off with Paul.  (It would probably be a good book all on its own.) This confession continues the wheel that was set in motion when Paul convinced her to leave so many years before.  

The characters in this book were wonderful.  They were all dysfunctional and yet normal enough that you could relate to them.  Set in a small town, you know enough about your neighbors to gossip, but never quite enough to draw confident conclusions.   The murder is left unsolved by the town, but we learn enough to know who did it, the question is why.  
Highly recommended!!


Winter/Spring 2016 Indies Introduce Selection
Indie Next Pick for January 2016



Excerpt (pages 184-185)
When the Old Man would draw back into the past, the dementia was almost a gift.  I came to know a sallow, shoeless child, raised on scant harvests and poor prospects through the blight of the Depression years.  I followed that boy across the Pacific to the killing fields of Bataan and Corregidor and the 39th parallel.  I saw him come home and, in a decade's time, turn a sales job taken on a whim into a thriving business that built him a new house bigger than any he'd ever set foot in as a boy.  I saw him leveled by the unfathomable loss of a child, with her Shirley Temple ringlets and a well of hope and courage in the face of certain death.  I saw him torn between the joy of a new family and the lingering remorse for the one he'd failed to save, made ever present by an impossible son he could neither control nor abandon.  I saw every victory and every failure, all up to the final, crushing blow that had left him bound to the prison of his ruined mind.  What I saw -- what I sensed but could not yet comprehend -- was the arc of a life that was not just the rise and fall of a small, forgettable man, but the story of the American Century:  its booms and busts, its catastrophes and regenerations, its fortunes built up from sweat and moxie only to be dashed by bad luck and bad choices, its false hopes and promises broken by the plain fact that we are all mere antic clay, bedeviled by the mystery that animates us.  


~I received a complimentary copy of Only Love Can Break Your Heart from Algonquin Books in exchange for my unbiased review.~

Tuesday, March 1, 2016

Review: Love Me, Love Me Not by Alyxandra Harvey

Title: Love Me, Love Me Not
Author: Alyxandra Harvey
Publisher: Entangled Crave
Publication Date: February 22, 2016

From Goodreads: Dating isn’t easy when you’re in the middle of a blood feud. 

Anastasia Vila’s family can turn into swans, but just once she’d like them to turn into responsible adults. 


After hundreds of years, they still cling to the blood feud with the Renard family. No one remembers how it started in the first place—but foxes and swans just don’t get along. 

Vilas can only transform into their swan shape after they have fallen in love for the first time, but between balancing schoolwork, family obligations, and the escalating blood feud, Ana’s got no time for love. The only thing keeping her sane is her best friend, Pierce Kent. 

But when Pierce kisses Ana, everything changes. 

Is what Pierce feels for her real, or a byproduct of her magic? Can she risk everything for her best friend? And when the family feud spirals out of control, Ana must stop the fight before it takes away everything she loves. 

Including, maybe...Pierce. 

This Entangled Teen Crave book contains language, violence, and lots of kissing. Warning: it might induce strong feelings of undeniable attraction for your best friend.

My thoughts: This is a retelling of the Swan Maidens, and I am not really familiar with that fairy tale, so not sure as to whether it was well done or not.  I did enjoy the premise of the story and I always like it when there is tension between a couple.  In this case, Pierce is in love with Ana - but Ana is so focused on trying to find her true love she can't see what is right in front of her.  

There is magic, but it was a little confusing as to what they could, or how they did it.  A little more explanation would have helped me to understand their abilities more - it might also have helped me to separate the characters. 

Speaking of characters, there were a lot of secondary characters and I had trouble keeping them apart.  I also think that the characters in general could have been fleshed out more and that would have given me more reason to become invested in them.  

  


If you would like to meet the characters and spend some time with them, please visit the link below by clicking on the picture's caption.


Meet the Characters!

Book Blitz: My Senior Year of Awesome by Jennifer Digiovanni (Giveaway)


My Senior Year of Awesome
Jennifer DiGiovanni

Published by: Swoon Romance
Publication date: March 1st 2016
Genres: Contemporary, Romance, Young Adult

A girl desperately tries to avoid the boy she was voted most likely to marry by her senior classmates. To prove senior superlative votes are meaningless, she and her best friend create their own list of awesome high school achievements to be completed by graduation.













EXCERPT:

“What did you win?” I whisper to Jana. “I don’t see your picture.”
Jana bites on her lower lip and points to the very top of the board. “Um, Sadie, I didn’t win. You did.”
Smack in the center of the top row of Senior Superlatives, I spy my junior year photo, blown up to 8 x 10 size, set inside of a glittery heart. Also inside the heart is an 8 x 10 photo of Andy Kosolowski. The caption above the heart reads, “Most Likely to Get Married.”
I want to die. No, I want to puke. I want to puke and then die. Andy, the biggest nerd in all of seniordom? The boy who wore the same Darth Vader T-shirt every day of eighth grade? The guy who passed out at middle school graduation and was trampled on by the rest of our class?
“Is this a joke?” Waves of laughter circulate around me like a bubbling, too-hot Jacuzzi. “I don’t even like Andy,” I say, maybe a bit too loudly. “Not at all.” Eyes narrowed, I whirl around. “Who did this?”
And then Andy’s tall head appears above everyone else. He scans the board and finds his picture. His mouth falls open. His eyes meet mine. A swell of laughter reignites as we stare at each other. When he cracks a small smile, I elbow my way through what feels like most of the student body to confront him.
“You fixed the vote,” I say, poking him in the center of his extra-long torso.
“What? Why would I do that?” Andy looks completely confused.
“Did you think this would be funny? Like, ha-ha, let’s make fun of Sadie who hasn’t been on a date in … a long time.” Exactly how long is personal information.
He shakes his head, acting stunned. “Maybe they mixed up my picture with someone else’s.”
Simultaneously, we redirect our eyes to the Most Likely to Succeed award, posted above a photo of Sophie Min. She’s ranked second in the class, albeit way behind Andy. I guess it takes more than brains to succeed.
“Listen up, people!” I shout, cupping my hands around my mouth like a megaphone. “I am so not marrying Andy Kosolowski. So ha-ha, joke’s on me. Hilarious.” I shoot one final look of disgust at my classmates and stomp off in the direction of homeroom.


Author Bio:
Jennifer is a freelance writer and YA author. When she’s not writing, you can find her reading, working on home design projects, or trying to meet the daily goals on her Fitbit. My Senior Year of Awesome is her first novel.





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Book Blitz: Nora & Kettle by Lauren Nicole Taylor (Giveaway)





Nora & Kettle
Lauren Nicolle Taylor

Published by: Clean Teen Publishing
Publication date: February 29th 2016
Genres: Historical, Young Adult

What if Peter Pan was a homeless kid just trying to survive, and Wendy flew away for a really good reason?
Seventeen-year-old Kettle has had his share of adversity. As an orphaned Japanese American struggling to make a life in the aftermath of an event in history not often referred to—the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II and the removal of children from orphanages for having “one drop of Japanese blood in them”—things are finally looking up. He has his hideout in an abandoned subway tunnel, a job, and his gang of Lost Boys.
Desperate to run away, the world outside her oppressive brownstone calls to naïve, eighteen-year-old Nora—the privileged daughter of a controlling and violent civil rights lawyer who is building a compensation case for the interned Japanese Americans. But she is trapped, enduring abuse to protect her younger sister Frankie and wishing on the stars every night for things to change.
For months, they’ve lived side by side, their paths crossing yet never meeting. But when Nora is nearly killed and her sister taken away, their worlds collide as Kettle, grief stricken at the loss of a friend, angrily pulls Nora from her window.
In her honeyed eyes, Kettle sees sadness and suffering. In his, Nora sees the chance to take to the window and fly away.
Set in 1953, NORA AND KETTLE explores the collision of two teenagers facing extraordinary hardship. Their meeting is inevitable, devastating, and ultimately healing. Their stories, a collection of events, are each on their own harmless. But together, one after the other, they change the world.



EXCERPT:

I snort, push my sleeves up, and lean back on my forearms. She watches me, her eyes on my bare skin, and I wonder what she’s thinking. “Dances. Really? What’s to miss?” My experience with dances was one forced event in the camps where we watched the grownups awkwardly shift in lines to scratchy music. It didn’t look very enjoyable.
She releases the button she’s been playing with and smirks. “Says someone who’s clearly never been to one.”
“How do you know that?” I say, raising an eyebrow and touching my chest, mock offended.
She laughs. It’s starlight in a jar. I blink slowly. “Oh, I can tell just by looking at you, the way you move. You,” she says, pointing at me accusingly. “Can’t dance.”
The candlelight twinkles like it’s chuckling at me. “I can dance,” I say, not sure why I’m lying to defend myself. I’ve never danced in my life.

She stands up and beckons me with her finger, and I think there’s something wrong with my heart. It’s hurting… but the pain feels good.

She looks like a pirate’s cabin boy, shirt billowing around her small waist, ill-fitting pants rolled over at her hips to stop them from falling down. She points her bare foot at me. “Prove it!”
Shit!
I cough and stand nervously. I don’t know what to do with my hands, so I put them behind my back. She giggles. Touches me. Runs her fingers lightly down my arms until she finds my hands. She grasps my wrists and I gulp as she places one on the small dip between her hips and her ribs, extending the other out like the bow of a boat. Her hand in mine.
I follow her small steps and we wind in circles, avoiding the clumps of debris, painting patterns in the dust.
I stare at my socks and her narrow bare feet, listening to the swish of them across the dirt. “You know, this is pretty weird without music,” I mutter, looking up for a moment and suddenly losing my balance.
She exhales and brings us back to equilibrium. She starts humming softly. It’s a song I’ve heard before, but I pretend it’s the first time. Her voice is sweet, cracked and croaky, but in tune as she gazes at the ground and leads us up and down the back of the tunnel.
This moment is killing me. I don’t want it, but I do. Because I know it won’t be enough and it’s all I’ll get.
The end of the song is coming. It rises and rises and then softly peters out. We look at each other, understanding that something is changing between us, and we have to decide whether to let it. Please, let it.
She sings the last few bars. “And if you sing this melody, you’ll be pretending just like me. The world is mine. It can be yours, my friend. So why don’t you pretend?”
Her voice is like the dust of a comet’s tail. Full of a thousand things I don’t understand but want to.
She stops and starts to step away. She’s so fragile. Not on the outside. On the outside, her body is strong, tougher than it should have to be. It’s inside that’s very breakable. I’m scared to touch her, but I don’t want to avoid touching her because of what she’s been through. That seems worse.
So I do it, because I want to and I don’t think she doesn’t want me to. Her breath catches as I pull her closer. I just want to press my cheek to hers, feel her skin against mine. There is no music, just the rhythm of two barely functioning hearts trying to reach each other through miles of scar tissue.
She presses her ear to my chest and listens, then she pulls back to meet my eyes, her expression a mixture of confusion and comfort. She breathes out, her lips not wanting to close but not wanting to speak. She settles on a nervous smile and puts her arms around my neck. I inhale and look up at the ceiling, counting the stars I know are up there somewhere, and then rest my cheek in her hair.
I don’t know how she is here. I don’t know when she’ll disappear.
We sway back and forth, and it feels like we might break. That we will break if we step apart from each other.
I can’t let her go.
I think I love dancing.




Author Bio:
Lauren Nicolle Taylor lives in the lush Adelaide Hills. The daughter of a Malaysian nuclear physicist and an Australian scientist, she was expected to follow a science career path, attending Adelaide University and completing a Health Science degree with Honours in obstetrics and gynaecology.

She then worked in health research for a short time before having her first child. Due to their extensive health issues, Lauren spent her twenties as a full-time mother/carer to her three children. When her family life settled down, she turned to writing.
She is a 2014 Kindle Book Awards Semi-finalist and a USA Best Book Awards Finalist.


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