Cindy C. Bennett's Blog, page 7

Great Summer Countdown: Day 7

Rachelle is the award-winning author of ten books, including The Soldier’s Bride (A Kindle Scout Selection), Diamond Rings Are Deadly Things, Veils and Vengeance, and Christmas Kisses: An Echo Ridge Anthology. Her novella, “Silver Cascade Secrets,” was included in the Rone Award–winning Timeless Romance Anthology, Fall Collection.
Rachelle loves laughing with her husband while raising five children and dozens of chickens on a little farm in rural Idaho. She graduated cum laude from Utah State University with a degree in psychology and a minor in music. 

Q&A With the Author:


5.    What is your favorite part of writing? I love each part when I’m in it. I love it when I’m excited and brainstorming a new idea! I love it when I’m writing like a speed-demon with that first draft just flowing from my fingertips. And then, I love it when I’m polishing and revising because that means I’m almost done with another book.

6.     Do you have any advice for other writers? Read a ton! Read lots of different books as well as those in the genre you’re writing in. Attend writing conferences and classes. Write because you love it, because the story must be told, because the characters are keeping you up at night. Fully accept that after you write, you will spend a lot of time editing, fixing, rewriting, and honing your craft. Keep writing!
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Love can be a very dangerous thing. 

At least it seems that way to Adri Pyper, the premier wedding planner in Sun Valley, Idaho. When one of her clients dies mysteriously, Adri takes the advice of the local detective and swears she will stay out of the investigation . . . this time. Luke Stetson's involvement in the case, along with the possibility of a kiss between the two, should be enough incentive to keep Adri out of trouble. But when a dog-themed wedding is almost ruined by a suspect, Adri and her assistant, Lorea, are thrust into private eye mode. When poison enters the picture, even a reluctant sleuth can’t steer clear of danger.

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Snippet:
I had just hung up the phone with the caterer when Gladys breezed in the doorway. She wore a purple muumuu with red hibiscus flowers. I guess red and purple do work together sometimes—at least the outfit suited Gladys.“Good morning,” I said.“It is a wonderful morning,” Gladys replied. “I’ve just stopped by to invite you to my wedding. I can’t believe I’m getting married today!”“Oh?” I tried to get the right intonation of surprise to show up in my voice. I was definitely surprised, but it looked like Gladys wanted me to be happily surprised, and excited for her.“Yes. Hank and I are just so in love, we decided, why wait?” She spread her arms out, and the purple muumuu fluttered with the movement.“Well, that’s wonderful. Where will you be married?”“At Hank’s place. He lives just outside of Hailey and his yard is lovely.”“Oh, backyard weddings are perfect this time of year.” I struggled to come up with something to say and quiet my inner wedding-planner voice from chanting what I’d learned while working at Bellissima, the premier wedding design boutique in San Francisco, California. Don’t be hasty with your dreams. Design your future in detail.“We’re inviting just a few close friends and family, but I wanted you to come since you gave us so many wonderful ideas.”I choked on the credit she’d given me. Hopefully word wouldn’t spread too far that I had helped with this impromptu wedding. “That’s very kind of you.” “So you’ll come?”“Uh, what time did you say?” Now to decide if I should go to the wedding or hope that I already had something planned. Luke would probably bail me out if I begged, but the eager look on Gladys’s face was hard to turn down. I also needed to find a way to ask Gladys a little question about the information she’d shared with me yesterday.“It’ll be at six-thirty. I’m so glad you can come. Make sure you bring a date.” She took both my hands in hers and gave them a little squeeze. “Here’s the address.” She handed me a purple index card with the details handwritten on the lines.I lifted my cheeks into an uber-fake smile. “I wouldn’t miss it. And, uh, I wondered if you could help me with something for Lily’s fiancé?”Gladys’s expression changed, and the keen look returned to her eye. She was a gossip; I could almost see her antennae go up. “Yes, that poor dear. I’d do anything to help.”I bit my bottom lip. Now how could I phrase the question so it wouldn’t look like I was the gossip? “Well, I’m trying not to step on any toes, but I wondered, when did you hear that Lily would be testifying in the custody case?”Gladys scrunched her brows together, probably wondering how her answer would help Tim. “It was just the other day. I took her over a bag of my homemade bath salts to congratulate her on her engagement.” She looked at me expectantly.“Oh, that was nice of you. Homemade gifts are the best.”“Yes, well, this bath salt recipe would work great on that Idaho-potatoes-and-crafts website you have.” Gladys put her hand to the side of her mouth. “It’s my own secret combination. Works like a charm every time and leaves you feeling delightfully refreshed.”I couldn’t be surprised anymore by Gladys. Not only was she having a shotgun wedding at the age of sixty-something, but she seemed savvy enough to understand the workings of my Mashed Potatoes and Crafts website. How in the world did she even find out about the site?
Check out what all the fuss is about at www.mashedpotatoesandcrafts.com

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Great Summer Countdown Day 6

Marni Graff is the award-winning author of The Nora Tierney English Mysteries, with three in print, ebooks and on Audible. She also writes The Trudy Genova Manhattan Mysteries, also in all three formats, which is based on her real work as a medical consultant for a NY movie studio.
She also writes a crime review blog, Auntie M Writes (www.auntiemwrites.com). A member of Sisters in Crime, Graff is Managing Editor of Bridle Path Press, and mentors the Writers Read program in Belhaven, NC.

Graff has been published in nonfiction, essays, poetry, and wrote for seven years for "Mystery Review" magazine. She is a frequent contributor to multiple magazines revolving around crime fiction.

Connect with the Author here: ~ Facebook ~ Blog ~ Twitter ~ Website ~


Trudy Genova has the best job a nurse could have: working as a medical consultant for a movie studio in Manhattan means no more uniforms, bedpans or white shoes. She's working with a womanizing actor, teaching him to fake a heart attack, when he dies right in the middle of taping--but not before pointing his finger accusingly at Trudy.
When detectives view Trudy as a suspect, she swings into action to clear her name, to the chagrin of NYPD detective Ned O'Malley. Soon the bodies mount up and Trudy realizes she's put herself in jeopardy. Based on the author's real work experience as a medical consultant, this is the book her mentor and friend, P D James, insisted she write.~ Amazon ~ Goodreads ~ Website ~ 

Snippet:


Great. Dueling egos today and on top of that, I had to work with Griff Kennedy, my least favorite actor. He’d come on to me a few times too many. The ladies man seemed to think any female should be happy to be groped by him. Several weeks ago I’d found myself alone in the rehearsal room with him after turning down yet another invitation for a drink after work. He’d had the temerity to fondle my breast as he tried to change my mind.
I’d shouted loud enough for the U-5’s outside the door to hear: “Hands off, slimeball!” That line, plus a knee in the right place, had stopped him in his tracks and he’d left the rehearsal room to a series of titters from those lounging outside.

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Great Summer Countdown Day 5

Her most recent accomplishment started in the summer of 2015. Making her dad’s dream come true with publishing his works as well, as an emotional accomplishment. She is the 2016 local A.N.W.A. chapter (Snake River Writers) president, won NaNoWriMo and loves StoryMakers.
            Teya has been writing for as long as she can remember. At a young age she lived on a street she affectionately named Hill Street Blues, which helped her creative writing. Her Family moved to Menan where she continued her love of writing. Her father would always be and will continue to be her inspiration, even after his untimely death in 2006.
            She loves sitting in her soft chair next to the fireplace and watching out a big living room window. It gives her plenty of creative juice for stories.
            She met the love of her life in the loft of a barn. Yep, that set up some teasing from her father. They have been happily married since 2003. They have four children and all are loving and supportive of her writing.  Her oldest daughter is following in her footsteps as a writer adding her own illustrations. She refuses to comment on the trolls in the closets and under the beds. She is active in her church, has compassion for others, and a love for all life brings.

Q&A with the Author
5-  What is your favorite part of writing? I love creating a wonderful escape into my world of fantasy for others to experience. Everyone has something to create and share with the world even if they don't know it yet. This is mine.6- Do you have any advice for other writers? Yes. WRITE! I don't care if it sounds dumb, or stupid. WRITE it down because somewhere in that pile of dung is a diamond ready to be found. Also, if you're scared, swallow that fear and use it to propel you forward. Do hard things. Take that fear and mold it into propelled jet fuel and do it. The only one holding you back is you. Don't stand in your own way forward.
Connect with the Author here: ~ Facebook ~ Website ~ Amazon ~ Goodreads ~


One wrong step changes Jocelyn’s Prima Ballerina’s life in one step...
A single choice results in Jeremiah facing unbearable consequences... 

When these two meet, it could be catastrophic or the answer to unspoken prayers.Can love be tested too far? Will hearts soften and hurts be forgiven? Or will too much loss be too devastating to find hope?One thing is for sure, lives are about to change forever…



~ Amazon ~ Goodreads ~ Author Website ~
Snippet  Coming to a stop sign, Jeremiah glanced quickly left, then right, and stepped on the gas as he glanced at his sister. Strangely, she began to glow brighter. A fleeting thought came to him of why she might be illuminated. Emily started to turn her head right, and as she turned everything slowed down. Silence fill the space, not even the radio made a sound. He saw her eyes wide with fear and her mouth open as if in screaming, but no words. He felt his eyebrows crease together a second before he heard Emily scream, “Jer!” Then a deafening crunch, as he slammed against his door, and as his head careened toward the window. Metal twisting metal, and the shattering of glass could be heard. Just before his head smashed against the window knocking him out.


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Great Summer Countdown Day 4

Karlie Lucas is a preschool teacher by day and a writer/artist by night.

A graduate of Southern Utah University, Karlie received a B.A. in Creative Writing, with a minor in art. She is a member of Sigma Tau Delta, The International English Honor Society, as well as ANWA, the American Night Writers Association.

Karlie is interested in all things magical and mysterious, especially elves and dragons. She is an avid fan of J.R.R. Tolkien and J.K. Rowling.

When not writing, Karlie can often be found drawing, baking, watching her favorite old school shows, or just spending time with her family.

She currently resides in Dallas, Texas with her husband and a cat named Kally

Q&A with the Author:

5.    What is your favorite part of writing?
My favorite part of writing is going on the journey for the first time. When I write, my characters are usually nice enough to tell me the story in order, then I can flesh it out from there. Since this isn't always the case, I guess the next best part is when the ideas come together as a cohesive whole.
6.     Do you have any advice for other writers?My advice for other writers is to just forget all the crazy advice and "rules" you see, hear, or read from others, online or off, because, in the end, this is your story, your baby. Know the rules. Then break the rules.Connect with the Author here: ~  Facebook  ~  Website  ~  Amazon  ~  Goodreads  ~


For hundreds of years, the gates of Tarragon have been sealed from the outside. Prophecy speaks of the day the last Key Keeper will return and wake the dragons from their spell-cast slumber, returning them to their rightful home.
Seeking to fulfill her father's dying wish, Anwen Porter travels to the Drakonii Mountains where she meets Tyler, a mysterious local with a secret. With his help, she learns more about her clouded past and her own abilities. But when Courtney, a lovesick mage, tries to insert herself into their plans, things begin to go horribly wrong. 
With death threatening at every turn, Anwen must learn to rely on her newfound friends to survive. But how can she unravel the mystery of her heritage when everything is trying to kill her?

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Snippets
Courtney pounded up the stairs, almost tripping over a spike that protruded from the last stair. It took her a moment to spot her somewhat friend lying unconscious by the far window. Almost flying the last few feet, she knelt by Anwen's side, shaking her. “Hey, this isn't funny. Wake up.”When the auburn-haired girl didn't respond, Courtney looked around with large eyes. "Tyler's going to kill me," she uttered, her voice changing pitch. "Come on, Anna. Please!"The wind picked up, whipping her long hair and she moved to brush it aside. A dark shadow fell over both teens as Courtney turned back to the unconscious girl. It stretched up the wall like a menacing beast. Her heart thudded in her chest as she made to slowly turn around. Before she could so much as turn her shoulder, the shadow's owner was upon her.“What did you do to her?" Tyler yelled as he thrust Courtney aside, using far more strength than he'd normally use on a mortal. His whole body shook with fury.
Courtney tumbled, then skid across the floor. She shivered in the corner where she landed, legs askew in front of her, her expression filled with shock. It took a moment for her to find her breath. For the briefest of seconds, she thought Tyler's eyes had changed color as he stared at her with anger-filled eyes.

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Great Summer Countdown Day 3

Michael Carney has been writing professionally since he was 17, which was a long time ago in a galaxy not so far away. He began his writing career straight from high school, writing radio advertisements for a bright and shiny new radio station in the glorious South Island of New Zealand (only a few hours drive from that wonderful scenery made famous by Sir Peter Jackson in 'Lord of the Rings' and, latterly, 'The Hobbit').

In the decades since, Michael has carved out a career in advertising and marketing, as a copywriter, Media Director, Strategic Planning Director and Online Marketing specialist. These days he writes and administers online training courses covering a range of Social Media Marketing and eCommerce topics at http://NetmarketingCourses.com.

In addition to writing a towering inferno of newsletters, reports and presentations Michael is the author of "Trade Me Success Secrets" (first and second editions), the top-selling book about NZ's online auction site Trade Me. In his spare time, Michael has also written (and mostly directed) a number of well-received stage plays over the years, some aimed at children and young adults, others produced for Christian audiences. Michael has been planning out the exploits of the OUTCAST ANGELS for many years.

Q&A with the Author:
5.    What is your favorite part of writing?

Plotting. I tend to plot out each beat of the story, typically write a line to encapsulate each scene. Then I work my way through the story turning each line into a chapter. [It’s a lot tougher to do than it is to describe!]
6.     Do you have any advice for other writers?
Persevere. Whatever you’re writing, you’ll come to a place that seems impenetrable. If  you can’t see another way through, then start on the other side of the barrier and write forward from that. Eventually, you’ll be able to backfill and solve the problem.


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Do You Love Epic Fantasy Tales of Angels and Demons, Laced With A Hint of Alchemy? Then Check Out ACADEMY OF SECRETS!

It’s the year 1610. The world is in grave danger if a long-missing artifact falls into the hands of the Academy of Secrets, a group whose members have gained unnatural powers through alchemy. And Chrymos, a young woman with a mysterious past, may hold the key. 


For Chrymos, scrabbling out a wretched living on the streets of Renaissance Naples, the Academy represents a chance to gain special powers and make a difference in the world. But can she leave behind all the people that she cares about? 

And what about the OUTCAST ANGELS, a ragtag group of former angels exiled from Heaven at the time of the Great Rebellion, who are desperately trying to stop the Academy? They face an uphill battle against alchemy-enhanced humans who can become invisible, cast illusions and create storms and tornadoes. 
Will the Academy recover the missing artifact? What part will Chrymos play? And will the prophecies of the demon Nekhbet -- that the artifact's recovery will trigger the Lost War -- come true? Find out in this fast-paced historical fantasy thriller set in Late Renaissance Italy. 
ACADEMY OF SECRETS is the first novel in the LOST WAR Chronicles, part of the OUTCAST ANGELS book series by MICHAEL CARNEY. 
For those who love Christian fantasy, historical fantasy adventure, epic fantasy, sword & sorcery, tales of great battles and continuing warfare between angels and demons. 



~ Amazon ~ 

Snippet: Naples, Kingdom of Naples [Italy], 9 p.m. Monday January 18 1610

“Don’t let her escape!” shouted Henricus, as he watched the young woman scrambling across the badly-damaged top floor of a derelict building in the residential quarter of Naples. Several of the Alchemae, Academy graduates with enhanced powers, rushed after her. A handful of hired thugs, whose not-so-unique talent was primarily brute force, joined in the chase.
The two groups were effectively herding the young woman towards the most unstable corner of the building, where large sections of the floor had collapsed into the darkness below. Even Girardus, whose acrobatic abilities were unmatched, proceeded carefully across this hazardous surface.
The woman suddenly checked her headlong flight—not because of any concerns about the void into which she might have plunged, but rather because a ten-foot-tall, double-headed monster had just blocked her path. This terrifying creature—conjured up by the Alchemae’s master of illusion, Apollinaris—breathed out great torrents of flame. Its two heads—on the left a hissing serpent, on the right a snarling lion—were poised, apparently ready to strike the woman at any moment.
“Excellent,” Henricus remarked to his Academy colleague, Zulian, “Apollinaris has outdone himself tonight. His latest creation looks like a cross between a hydra and a chimera, if I remember my Greek mythology correctly.”
Henricus and Zulian stood on the far side of the building, close to a bonfire which the Academy’s men had lit earlier in the evening with the goal of attracting the lazzaroni, Naples’ teeming masses of beggars, poor and homeless. It was a cold, wet night and the bonfire had proven an effective lure. Unfortunately, as Zulian’s nose told him only too clearly, the lazzaroni might be better described as the non lavato, the unwashed. He could smell their choking stench everywhere, especially as the bonfire liberated the odors from their wet clothing. Zulian, for one, hoped that this recruitment mission would swiftly conclude so that he could escape the horrific smell.
When the Academy’s trap was sprung, several of the lazzaroni had drawn their swords—only priests or the most wretched of paupers would go around unarmed in seventeenth century Europe—but the supernatural powers of the Academy’s enhanced had quickly discouraged any significant opposition. Some had sought to run but only the young woman had successfully eluded the Academy’s grasp. It seemed, however, that her freedom would be short-lived.
“She’s trapped,” smirked Zulian, “nowhere to run. Even if she has the nerve to get past Apollinaris’s monster, she’d be crazy to try to jump the gap—it’s a very long way down. We’ve caught her now.”
And so it seemed, until their quarry appeared to notice that the creature in front of her had done little more than look threatening. Then she thrust her hand directly into the path of one of the bursts of flame that the monster spat out.
“Amazing,” said Henricus. “She’s much braver than I would be. Now she knows for certain that the monster is an illusion.” Before he could instruct his men to close in, the young woman made her own move.
She plunged straight through the creature’s false image and rushed over to the collapsed section of the floor. Before anyone could reach her, she leapt across the vast gap, somehow made it almost to safety, and then could be heard scrabbling desperately for a handhold as her grasp slipped on the rain-splattered bricks at the edge of the abyss.Henricus and Zulian could no longer see the young woman, because of the darkness enshrouding that section of the building. The crescent moon now hid behind rain clouds and the corner itself was too far away to be illuminated by the bonfire.
Henricus squinted into the darkness, fearing the worst. He could hear the occasional impacts of a few dislodged fragments of rock, but no sound of a body crashing down to the lower floors.
Then one of the searchers shouted out. “She’s made it to the stairwell! She’s going to get away!”


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Great Summer Countdown Day 2

Devri Walls lives in Meridian ID with her husband, two kids and the cutest must you've ever seen. After suffering from an abundance of creativity with not enough places to put it, she turned to writing. Which in the end, turned out to be exactly where she should have been putting it all along.


Q&A With The Author:
11.    What is your favorite part of writing?
The creating. I love making something out of nothing. I love world building, character creation. And then that amazing moment when that thing you created that was mostly garbage—because all rough drafts are—transforms into something you’re really proud of.


6. Do you have any advice for other writers?Finish the book. Rough drafts are always really bad. Like, really bad. Sometimes a novel needs to be trashed, but often it just needs major revision. You have to polish the stone before you see its beauty and it’s the same with stories. The other piece of advice is, hire an editor. They are worth every penny.  AND, I have one more—develop a thick skin. You could write the most brilliant book in the world and somebody will hate it. Don’t believe me? Pick some of your favorites and go read their one star amazon reviews. It helps put it in perspective for you.

Connect with the Author here: ~ Facebook ~ Website ~ Twitter ~


Tybolt’s a Deviant, a hated race immune to direct magic in a world where Wizards ensure survival. But when he loses his entire family to a spell-made storm he joins an elite group of Wizard hunters, organized beneath the new non-magic wielding king.

Now eighteen, he spends his days capturing Wizards. But the nights are his, reserved to feed the starving villagers of Eriroc under cover of dark. There’s always more people in need than he can help, and one of these days he’s going to hang for theft from the royal kitchens.

Although Tybolt and his fierce partner, Auriela, have imprisoned many Wizards, the one partially responsible for the storm that killed Tybolt’s family is still out there: Alistair. When an old informant claims to have information regarding their elusive prey, everything changes.

In a cruel twist, Tybolt realizes he isn't who he thought he was at all. How can he save himself, the people, and those he loves while keeping his secrets safe? Can he hide his true nature and allow the corrupt king to remain on the throne?

Or will he have to unveil himself and risk possible execution to save them all?


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Snippet:Auriella struggled within herself. She wanted to look away, to put on the blinders she’d worn for so many years, but Tybolt seemed to have disarmed her.. What she remembered of living amongst these people was cruelty and hate, but this room and these faces…it looked nothing like she remembered. They were laughing and dancing, but above all she saw what Tybolt wanted her to. She’d heard his comments time and again about how the people were starving. She’d never looked at them closely enough to really see it. She’d always kept her eyes above them. But now, this close, she could see arms that looked like the limbs of a marionette—tendons and joints too defined, large and out of place. Collarbones jutted out, spines were carved piece by piece on the backs of the ladies—like children’s blocks carefully stacked. The men’s clothes hung, hiding what was left of them, but speaking loudly as to the men they used to be. And despite her best efforts, her heart ached for the people who’d been the cause of all her pain. Then suddenly she marveled at what she was really seeing and wondered how they had mastered something while having nothing—something she’d never been able to accomplish while having everything. “How are they so happy?” she asked. “I think they’ve learned that grasping happiness wherever they can helps to ease their misery.”
Suddenly Auriella marveled at what she was really seeing and wondered how they had mastered something while having nothing—something she’d never been able to accomplish while having everything. “How are they so happy?” she asked.
“I think they’ve learned that grasping happiness wherever they can helps to ease their misery.”

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Great Summer Countdown Day 1

Robert Lamoreaux JD is a successful attorney who has specialized in estate and financial planning throughout his career. He holds degrees from Brigham Young University and University of Utah College of law as well as certificates from many other institutes of higher education around the country. He has lectured extensively from coast to coast and has traveled the world managing assets, which have been gifted, to an international charitable organization. Robert has given legal counsel to numerous corporations, colleges and universities, prominent individuals and the IRS. He has vast knowledge, which has come from planning numerous estates of all types and sizes. Robert currently has a successful private practice and continues to be in demand for his work on estate law and financial planning.

Q&A With the Author:
1.          If you could travel to any time in history, when would you visit?a.       This is a bad question for me.  I love history of all ages, and I am looking forward to the future.  I don’t imagine that this question could span the life of the earth, but it should2.        Do you have any advice for other writers?
a.        When you get discouraged, don’t quit, keep moving.  Don’t let someone else determine what’s best for you, friends, editors, publishers, critics.  However, you must educate yourself and be in tune with the times.  If someone gives you a suggestion, ponder it and decide if it is a good suggestion.  Don’t  throw all suggestions away just because you don’t want to listen to other’s thoughts.
Connect with the Author here: ~ Amazon ~


This is not a ""get rich quick"" book. This book is for readers who are concerned bout their financial state. Robert Lamoreaux JD uses his extensive knowledge and experience to create a straight-forward, easy-to-read, behind-the-scenes look at the factors influencing all aspects of personal finances and future retirement.

~ Amazon ~ Goodreads ~ 
Snippet:
There are probably as many approaches to money as there are people.  These range from those who worship money to those who hate money.  From the penthouse to the hermitage, from the large estate to the mud hut, each has his or her own vision as to what money means.  Money, like all other things, is a tool to be used to accomplish goals in life.  Having given much thought to this, I have reduced my philosophy on money to a few small items which, to me, seem very important. ·         Money is a tool—nothing more, nothing less.  It helps accomplish goals and dreams. ·         It is not how much money you make that counts, it is how much money you keep.·         Having money sooner is better than later.  The longer the time period you have money, the more things you can do with it. ·         More money is better than less money.  More money buys you more options, it reaches more goals, and it buys you a better retirement.·         Money allows you to benefit your church, give to charity, and bless many individual lives.                         Money is absolutely an essential part of life—you can’t escape it, and you can’t live without it.  When you reach retirement, your quality of retirement will depend on how much you made and what you did with it. 


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Book Blitz: Zenobia

Russ Wallace is life-long student of history, religion, politics, and social issues. As an instructor, he came to value the critical thinking so necessary to navigate the minefields of propaganda while searching for truths. As a world traveler, Russ learned the opposing views and prejudices underlying many of the problems in human society, ancient and modern.
He employs a vivid imagination to fill in the life of Zenobia, a real historical figure and one of the most fascinating women who ever lived. He is working on future books in the Zenobia book series.
Connect with the Author here: ~ Facebook ~ Website ~ Amazon ~
~ Blog ~ Twitter ~ Google+ ~ Goodread ~


Sequel to the award-winning Zenobia - Birth of a Legend.

The continuing saga of the deadly young warrior who will one day challenge Rome for the supremacy of her world. As the dynamic girl continues her education in Egypt, for a time she is diverted from her warrior path. Complicating Zenobia's life is a budding romance with her brilliant and charismatic instructor. The challenge - he is the scholar, she the warrior. Can they blend their worlds to become the most exciting couple in Alexandria?

Learning of a slave trade in kidnapped young women, Zenobia determines to free the oppressed. Warrior skills will not be enough. Her new challenge - to become a pirate, then a temptress in her fight for justice.

              
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SnippetAlim Hasshel was rich and used to getting what he wanted, but his ambition had recently been thwarted. The person responsible had thus become his enemy. After considering the matter, he reached a decision – he would take his revenge in a special way. He smiled to himself and felt devilishly satisfied. But he had made a critical mistake, though one common to the arrogant –he had underestimated his target. It was an easy error in judgment because his opponent was only a girl, a pretty girl. How could he, or anyone for that matter, foresee that she was destined to grow into the deadliest woman on the planet? Or that he himself would provide one of the triggers to awaken her latent abilities?



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Book Blitz: My Pineapples Went to Houston

Lee Gaitan is a wife, mother, teacher, author and speaker, but above all she is passionately committed to overcoming life’s obstacles, surviving sometimes by the skin of her teeth, but always with humor and optimism. She shares her experience with anyone who will listen with the intent to encourage others to use humor to their benefit.

In the past twelve years Lee has had to deal with more than a healthy helping
of “are you kidding me?” moments. In 2002, she hit rock bottom. It was so bad shelovingly refers to it as a year of “shock and awfulness.” That year her father died,her mother was in the hospital, semi-comatose from grief, and her husband of 22 years lost every penny of their money BEFORE running off to Arizona with his girlfriend, who just happened to be a former stripper. 

That was just the beginning. She spent the next decade struggling with loss and challenges on every front, from finances and family to health and career.

While there have been many bounces up and down over the years, Lee has finally
bounced back and it was well worth the effort. She has happily remarried, working at a job she loves and has published her second book. She even has children on three continents and a granddaughter far too far away!
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Heartbreak, Humor and, ultimately, Hope That’s the message that comes through loud and clear in My Pineapples Went to Houston,  Lee Gaitan’s personal and powerful tale of surviving a decade of relentless chaos and loss. The “shock and awfulness” began in 2002 when her father died, her mother teetered on the brink of a coma and her husband of 22 years secretly lost all their money and ran off with a stripper. And it was all downhill from there!    Then one day in the midst of all the chaos—somewhere between loud cursing and crying—she recalled an amusing anecdote she’d heard about pineapples that spoke to her circumstances in such an unexpectedly humorous way that she couldn’t help but laugh out loud.“That moment of laughter was a small epiphany for me. I realized that I had allowed my sense of humor, which had always mitigated the bad breaks in my life and enhanced the good ones, to fall victim to the machete my ex-husband had taken to my life. I determined right then and there that I could no longer permit that. I instinctively knew that humor was the most potent, and just about the only, protection I had at my disposal to survive the crises unfolding around me, and I vowed to keep it alive.”

Told with honesty and insight—and, of course, humor—My Pineapples Went to Houston both inspires and entertains readers and offers hope and encouragement to those struggling with their own “plans gone outrageously awry.”

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Snippet: The cows, however, had left several calling cards behind. This had to be the richest soil west of the Fertile Crescent. Jif (my dog) was definitely in deep—shoulder-deep, to be specific—doo-doo. You know the old, rather crass, expression about being as happy as a pig in sh--? Well, let me tell you, a pig may stop at happy, but Jif went all the way to ecstatic. 

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Loving the Book Announcement

We are sad to inform you that Jess is no longer with our team. Her husband recently graduated from the Police Academy and we are so happy for them. They have now moved and she is spending time focusing on her 3 kiddos, husband, and her new MaryKay business. We’re very excited to see her thrive.
However, we are excited to announce that we have a new team member! Welcome to Corinne Prost – our new Freelance writer. Her responsibilities will include writing fabulous articles about writing, reading, reviewing, and blogging. She’ll be putting together some great tips for all book lovers, and helping up as we build our blogger/review team.
To celebrate her joining us, we are doing a giveaway and showing her some support at the same time! In order to see some of her fantastic articles, sign up for our monthly newsletter. 
Also, our other team member, Katie, is opening up her own Facebook page. This will allow us a better reach with our events, and better access for you to join our events. Come support her by befriending her new page below. 
And, of course, just helping spread word about our services will also give you entries into our fabulous giveaway!
We love you all and we are grateful for your support!
Introducing our new team member
Corinne is a BA at Hillsdale College, and her declared major is American Studies with a projected minor in Journalism. Although these choices sound informed and thoughtful on Corinne's part, what really happened is that a really cool, successful senior did the same major and minor and went on to do really cool, successful things. So even though Corinne doesn't know what she will do with these life choices, she does know one thing: her dream is to become as great as the classical authors.
While growing up, Corinne battled a severe condition that afflicted her for many years: she could not see because her eyes were glued permanently to books. This caused her to be the girl at recess who hid in the shade to read from her pile of library books, and her occasional companion was the library lady. One day, Corinne finally found she could look up, and after the initial shock she realized that her college applications would need to say more than "loves to read". Her solution: to become involved in as many things as possible. 
As a result, Corinne came to the realization that she also enjoys creative writing, drawing or painting, traveling, playing tennis, and spending inappropriate amounts of time thinking about the money it would take to adopt all the unclaimed dogs at the animal shelter. In the near future, she hopes to spend less time thinking about those dogs and more time writing.

Come get to know a bit more about Corinne with an Interview (Part 2)
6. Now that we've gotten to know each other, tell me a story. It can be long or short. From your childhood or last week. Funny, sad, or somewhere in between. Just make sure it's yours. What's your story?Let’s talk about a dinner I had with my professor, Dr. Hart. The first week of finals, my friend’s boyfriend had stopped me after an exam and asked me if I’d like to come along to an auction dinner he’d won. In addition to my friend and her boyfriend, another fraternity brother would be coming along for a homecooked meal at our professor’s house. I accepted, all grins despite nearly two hours of exam-induced cold sweats. I would be able to have a regular conversation with the professor that gave students a hell worth enduring. Without fail, his lectures were peppered with student answers and explanations to the readings, most of which we never fully understand--and it showed. By mid-semester, those of us who hadn’t had the pleasure of being in his class knew the routine. Dr. Hart would pose the tail end of an insanely convoluted statement as a question, usually one bridging political philosophy with history. The two students in charge of discussing for the day would stare past him at the whiteboard or pretend to flip through their book, waiting until the other would answer. Dr. Hart never broke these silences. Eventually, one blurted out half of a sentence, paused. Every student trained their eyes on Dr. Hart from behind the podium. His face would twist and coil in shows of discontent, confusion, or thought. He would stare up at his victim from a tilted head, one fingerless glove on the reader, the other adjusting his glasses. Once his mouth opened, all other students would put down their pencils. If the student was lucky, he would get a simple, “No, that’s wrong” or “Yes, but there’s more”. Most of the time, Dr. Hart would dismantle an answer--while the valiant but clueless student squirmed and chewed at his mouth--before he redirected the question. As a victim of several of these encounters, this invite should have induced anxiety rather than excitement. And yet, there was something about Dr. Hart in his complex and paradox personality that made his presence slightly more intriguing than anything else. Each class, without fail, he dressed the part of a senile retiree who appeared to believe he was both a competitive biker (hence the fingerless gloves) and a gentlemen in the roaring 20s. His appearance played as a heavy distraction from his manner, but his ability to command a room incited respect and awe. What was the explanation for the large discrepancy between the outer shell of this man and his inner wealth of knowledge?I must tell you, it is the disturbing result of a man who has amassed great knowledge on top of his lack of empathy and caring. His wife, the woman who set the table, took our coats, and waited on us while dinner finished cooking, was the first and ongoing victim of the evening. While she shared the story of how she met her husband, Dr. Hart chewed on in grimaced silence. His ashen face with eyes peeking over lowered glasses was no different than the look he gave to students as they spoke. And just as in class, he interrupted her to trump or correct her details about just how long they spent at a place or why they met. “It felt like we were there forever!” She would gleam in a false-show of a tough time passed in her youth, cut short by his “We only spent two weeks there, at most.” Each time, she would smile wider with his answers. When she had finished, Dr. Hart gave a smile. It didn’t quite reach all of his eyes, only the corners, and he showed no teeth. “The only reason we started dating is because your friend turned me down,” he began. All four of us emitted short, abrupt laughs, and I snuck a look to my friend seated next to me. I didn’t want to appear rude and turn my head, so I only glanced for a second. Her eyes had widened, too. Dr. Hart went on to explain that while his wife’s old college friend was much more attractive, she didn’t reciprocate his advances. So, he settled for talking to his wife. He did not end the story with a sweeter tone. Just as with his students, he left his response cutting and incomplete. He offered us wine. All four of us shifted uncomfortably, not sure if accepting the gesture would be appropriate since we were underaged. “Do your parents normally let you have a glass with dinner?” He posed a question, and when none of us spoke he made several comments about how we shouldn’t be so modest, us being college students. Three of us obliged, but my friend insisted that she was driving and shouldn’t anyways. “Oh, so good.” He purred, almost sarcastically. Everything he said, no matter what it was, had some trace of sarcasm to it. He even asked what the dinner was for, anyways, and my friend’s boyfriend reminded him it was a part of the auction. Dr. Hart gave no other response than a shrug; he would sip his wine when he didn’t want to continue the subject.When my friend notified Dr. Hart that her and her boyfriend were dating because of his class, he didn’t bother looking up at her from cutting his steak until she finished. All he said was, “Are you boyfriend and girlfriend too?” He chuckled to himself, brandishing his steak knife at the fraternity brother and I. The brother beat me to a response:  “Actually, no we’re just friends,” and I gave a nervous, close-lipped smile. My friend folded her hands in her lap and tore at the edges of her napkin. On the car ride over, she’d told me how her boyfriend had talked with Dr. Hart about her before they’d even had a conversation. It seemed as if he didn’t remember.The wine loosened the boys up a bit, and they engaged in politics with Dr. Hart. Most of the conversation went along like this: the professor posed a statement and questions, and the boys would answer and debate. Half an hour after that, both dessert and the topics were finished up. Before the silence passed too long, Dr. Hart’s wife wrapped the dinner up with a pleasant remark on how nice it was to have us over. We shuffled out, half turned to the couple and to the door. With our coats in hand, we gave quick waves at the two and thanked them until we stepped outside. When we reached the car across the street I turned to look at them one last time, but the door was already closed.
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