K.F. Breene's Blog, page 9
April 30, 2014
Review - The Fairie Guardian by Rachel Morgan
The Fairie Guardian by Rachel Morgan Genre: YA ParanormalReviewer: Sally Sparrow Amazon | Goodreads | iTunes
Enter a hidden world of magic, mystery, danger and romance in this YA fantasy from Amazon bestselling author, Rachel Morgan...Protecting humans from dangerous magical creatures is all in a day’s work for a faerie training to be a guardian. Seventeen-year-old Violet Fairdale knows this better than anyone—she’s about to become the best guardian the Guild has seen in years. That is, until a cute human boy who can somehow see through her faerie glamor follows her into the Fae realm. Now she’s broken Guild Law, a crime that could lead to her expulsion.
The last thing Vi wants to do is spend any more time with the boy who got her into this mess, but the Guild requires that she return Nate to his home and make him forget everything he’s discovered of the Fae realm. Easy, right? Not when you factor in evil faeries, long-lost family members, and inconvenient feelings of the romantic kind. Vi is about to find herself tangled up in a dangerous plot—and it’ll take all her training to get out alive.
It has been three days since I started this book, and in those three days I have read two thirds of this trilogy. I was so ensnared by the story that when I finished this first book I waited all of five minutes before buying the second one. After I finished the second one it took a good half hour of arguing with myself (and one Facebook post) about not having the time to continue with this story right now before I bought the third book. Which I have already started and am now exerting vast amounts of willpower to write this review instead of reading. I guess you could say I am enjoying the story. It would be more accurate to say that I am completely consumed by this story. It has magic, action, adventure, intrigue, friendship, and romance - everything I could ever want in a book. The protagonist, Violet, is a teenaged fairie in her final term of training to be a guardian, which is a sort of fae version of the FBI. While on a trainee assignment in the human realm she gets unwittingly involved in a multi-leveled political plot that is decades in the making. There is spying and spies, combat and battles, recon missions and rescue missions, all while Violet is living the life of the teenager that she is with school, boys, and a home life. The Fairie Guardian - and the other two in the same series - is very well written. Violet is extremely likable and while I cannot see myself in her, she is the kind of person I wished to be while in high school. She is a fierce fighter, incredibly intelligent, and completely disregards the shallowness of the school social scene. Explaining the many differences between the fae realm and our own human realm could be a daunting task for an author but Rachel Morgan handles this task with admirable skill. Even explaining Violet’s home life, her lack of parents, her unidentified pet, and all of the little things that are unique to fae life are done without obvious explanation to the reader. It is this cleverness in writing, along with the personable characters and an intriguing storyline that have me raving so much about this book. I generally steer clear of YA books because they can be silly and simple, but other than the age of the main characters and the lack of explicit sex, I wouldn’t pigeonhole The Fairie Guardian in the YA section. It could easily hold its own in the fantasy and paranormal sections. I highly recommend this book. Honestly, I am a bit loathe to finish the final installment in this story, for after the reading bender I have been on I don’t know what to do when I am finished. 5 STARS - BOOM!!
April 23, 2014
Review: On a Razor's Edge by K.F. Breene
On a Razor's Edge (Darkness, 3) by K.F. Breene
Genre: Paranormal RomanceReviewer: Sally Sparrow
Amazon | Goodreads | iTunes
If Sasha thought life would slow down after being captured, she was dead wrong. Having an extremely high level of magic, but not knowing how to use it, has become more than a little problematic. Struggling to get her power under control has everyone on their toes, waiting for something to blow up. And then there is the issue of loving Stefan, but not being able to mate him because she hadn't a clue how to lead, which is necessary if she wants to rule by his side.
No, things have not gotten any easier.
With the incoming visit of the Regional and his white mage, the pressure turns way up for both Sasha and Stefan. So many issues are riding on the balance, and one word from the authoritative pair could have Sasha back in her old life, still in danger, and without the resources to carry on.
Sasha has to learn to battle while walking on a razor's edge
Like a good orgasm, this left me satisfied yet hungry for more...Sometimes you get so attached to fictional characters that when a book ends, you miss them. Such is the case for me with Sasha, Stefan, and Charles in the latest KF Breene series. The third installment in this story was released yesterday, and I happily and greedily got sucked back into their world.
This is a compelling series, full of mythological creatures and beings remade so skillfully that they seem normal. Paranormal and fantasy isn’t my favorite genre, because it takes a skilled writer with a firm grasp of reality to write a story that seems legitimate and relatable. KF Breene is exactly that kind of writer, and I thoroughly enjoy reading everything she writes.
On A Razor’s Edge picks up more or less where Braving the Elements left off, with Stefan and Sasha totally in love and screwing every chance they get. With the much anticipated arrival of the Regional - essentially the Boss’s boss - we see Stefan in a whole new light, and learn more about how Stefan’s people fit into our world. There is also another species of almost-humans and a road trip involved. Lots of magic, lots of information, lots of fun.
Honestly, the real world seems pretty boring and staid in comparison.
The more I read this series, the more intrigued I get. Yes, I love the hot sex and the proliferation of physical beauty, but it is the magical power and the non-human creatures that really fascinates me. I am a bit wistful for their almost-real world, and after each book I look at our world a bit differently. It’s possible there are other human-like species walking around....it’s possible that humans have the ability to wield magic, if only we knew how....it is all very possible....
This third book lives up to the high standards of fun, interesting, and hot established by the first two books. It is a enchanting read, and while several important issues are satisfied, it will leave you hungry for the next book. Five-million-trillion-totally biased stars!!!
April 21, 2014
Working Out!
That's right. I started working out. Like, really working out. Going to the gym kind of working out.
You are not impressed, I know. Millions of American's edge slowly into the gym at any given time, scanning the whirling machines and fit people with largely anxious gazes. It's nothing new. But to me it is. Sign me up! I am going to turn this gum drop body into a temple of awesome-sauce.
Or so the one meeting with the personal trainer convinced me.
In my youth I was super athletic. I could pick up a sport I'd never tried and be reasonably good fairly soon. I was skinny but surprisingly strong. Also, extremely tough--which came from fighting off my older brother, something I did with great aplomb (since I caused half the scuffles--don't tell my mother). I worked out all the time because I was in one organized sport after the other. I didn't have to worry about weight as long as I was active.
Moving to San Francisco changed the ease of playing sports nearby, so I took up running and even jump roping. Instead of eating, I'd go for a hike. Instead of sitting at home, I'd go out. But then I had a kid. I couldn't go out whenever I needed to anymore, and also...well, let's just say I didn't work as hard as I could have with the baby fat issue...
And here we are. The gym. I feel like a big, fat fecker these days and I need an organized effort to turn this jiggle into a masterpiece. And I'm doing it right, too. I do weights first, because the mere effort of having muscle burns calories. After that I hit the cardio machines to burn away fat. In-and-out in a hour. That's what the trainer said.
Well, then. Sign me up to lift weights with all the guys. I am totally up for it!
~Let me first just change this weight from 80 pounds to 20, shall I? We have to be reasonable when starting this venture.~
To start my workout, I enter the building like a budding athlete at the top of her game. I could rock the whole place--or so my attitude suggests upon entry. I glide through the cardio area like I am eighteen again and getting ready to take the field. Up the stairs, serious as ever, ready to pump some iron.
Once in the land of machines, I do a crop dust, trying to remember which machines the trainer said to use while trying to look knowledgeable. They all kind of look the same, though, with their stacks of weights and metal arms. So I have to look at the pictures.
Step 1 of looking like you belong--do not stare at the instructions with gaping mouth and furrowed brow. Kind of a giveaway that you have absolutely no idea what you are doing.
I've been to gyms before, though, so once I figure out which machine does the stuff I'm supposed to do (arm, back, chest, etc), I settle in and eye the weights. I try not to glance around as I change the heaviness to mostly lightness. No one needs to know that lifting a feather is work for me. As soon as I start, the work I put in will be evident, and then I'll fit in.
Yeah right. Dreaming big on that one with these spaghetti arms.
So yes, I do get a glance or two, to which I internally scoff in defense. I was a soccer player, damn it! I have an excuse for no arm strength--go back to your barbell Mr. Huge Arms.
Obviously that is me misinterpreting the glance from someone that couldn't possibly care. I'm sure the poor guy glanced over because of my sighs, or blaring music from my ipod, or my moping. Still, it seems accusatory of wasting the gym's time...
Which I probably am, but the first rule of Gym Club-- Oops. Shouldn't have mentioned...never mind.
They have a no stare policy at the gym. This is good, obviously, or people like me would be melted onto one machine or other, trying to will strength into our shaking limbs so we can do three more reps, staring with a slack jaw at someone else. I, personally, don't look at others for any reason other than that my unfocused gaze found movement. But if I don't pay attention to my gaze, I will absolutely stare. Bug-eyed and desperate to keep going, I will watch in fascination as someone lifts my body weight without effort.
My brain nudges my body--you can do that, too! If only I didn't want to bonelessly slide out of the machine and puddle on the ground. 12 more reps to go. Ugh!
The other day, after I did the weights, I decided to do the stairmaster.
You're probably thinking about this, right?
What I actually did was this:
Maybe it's not much different, but it feels like it is. You are actually walking up stairs. You're way high in the air, walking up stairs. I did 70 flights. Not 70 stairs...70 flights. 70 floors. That is halfway up a skyscraper, isn't it? All while standing still.
The thing about real stairs is that you are actually going somewhere. If I am walking up 70 flights, I expect a beer and a great view at the top. I've earned it, haven't I? How about a sandwich? Or at least a cookie. I just did 70 floors!
I didn't get that at the gym, of course. Instead, after I reached the time goal, I half fell off the thing with a bright red face dripping with sweat. I exited the gym walking like John Wayne after a long ride. Not attractive.
Some days, though, when I don't kill myself with stationary cardio equipment, I feel like a buff rockstar leaving the gym. My muscles are tingling, I can feel my upper body muscles, and I develop that bouncing walk some men use all the time. You know the one, with your chest puffed out, and your arms pushed out from your sides to show off your glorious bulging muscles. Oh yes, I walk out to my car with the glow of intense strength.
Of course, what people see is stickly arms with waggling flab pushed out from a lumpy body. Sexy time all over the place! Jealous-much?
This elation lasts the evening. I feel great directly after I work out. When all the endorphins are pinging around my body, and I feel strong...working out is totally worth it at that time.
And then the soreness kicks in. After every time I work out, I can pick out each individual muscle. Because it hurts. Every time I move.
Ugh.
And then I get tired. Sore and tired. And...cranky. Oh yeah, I get cranky when it hurts to move. And bitter.
Yay! I'm a ray of sunshine a day after intense muscle building. I bet everyone is jealous of my husband, poor guy.
So that's about the extent of it right now. I combat my jiggly parts by hitting the gym. I zoom around, working out, and then hobble away.
I'm totally going to have the best body ever. Really. Honest.
I'm not sure who I am trying to convince...
You are not impressed, I know. Millions of American's edge slowly into the gym at any given time, scanning the whirling machines and fit people with largely anxious gazes. It's nothing new. But to me it is. Sign me up! I am going to turn this gum drop body into a temple of awesome-sauce.
Or so the one meeting with the personal trainer convinced me.
In my youth I was super athletic. I could pick up a sport I'd never tried and be reasonably good fairly soon. I was skinny but surprisingly strong. Also, extremely tough--which came from fighting off my older brother, something I did with great aplomb (since I caused half the scuffles--don't tell my mother). I worked out all the time because I was in one organized sport after the other. I didn't have to worry about weight as long as I was active.
Moving to San Francisco changed the ease of playing sports nearby, so I took up running and even jump roping. Instead of eating, I'd go for a hike. Instead of sitting at home, I'd go out. But then I had a kid. I couldn't go out whenever I needed to anymore, and also...well, let's just say I didn't work as hard as I could have with the baby fat issue...
And here we are. The gym. I feel like a big, fat fecker these days and I need an organized effort to turn this jiggle into a masterpiece. And I'm doing it right, too. I do weights first, because the mere effort of having muscle burns calories. After that I hit the cardio machines to burn away fat. In-and-out in a hour. That's what the trainer said.
Well, then. Sign me up to lift weights with all the guys. I am totally up for it!
~Let me first just change this weight from 80 pounds to 20, shall I? We have to be reasonable when starting this venture.~
To start my workout, I enter the building like a budding athlete at the top of her game. I could rock the whole place--or so my attitude suggests upon entry. I glide through the cardio area like I am eighteen again and getting ready to take the field. Up the stairs, serious as ever, ready to pump some iron.
Once in the land of machines, I do a crop dust, trying to remember which machines the trainer said to use while trying to look knowledgeable. They all kind of look the same, though, with their stacks of weights and metal arms. So I have to look at the pictures.
Step 1 of looking like you belong--do not stare at the instructions with gaping mouth and furrowed brow. Kind of a giveaway that you have absolutely no idea what you are doing.
I've been to gyms before, though, so once I figure out which machine does the stuff I'm supposed to do (arm, back, chest, etc), I settle in and eye the weights. I try not to glance around as I change the heaviness to mostly lightness. No one needs to know that lifting a feather is work for me. As soon as I start, the work I put in will be evident, and then I'll fit in.
Yeah right. Dreaming big on that one with these spaghetti arms.So yes, I do get a glance or two, to which I internally scoff in defense. I was a soccer player, damn it! I have an excuse for no arm strength--go back to your barbell Mr. Huge Arms.
Obviously that is me misinterpreting the glance from someone that couldn't possibly care. I'm sure the poor guy glanced over because of my sighs, or blaring music from my ipod, or my moping. Still, it seems accusatory of wasting the gym's time...
Which I probably am, but the first rule of Gym Club-- Oops. Shouldn't have mentioned...never mind.
They have a no stare policy at the gym. This is good, obviously, or people like me would be melted onto one machine or other, trying to will strength into our shaking limbs so we can do three more reps, staring with a slack jaw at someone else. I, personally, don't look at others for any reason other than that my unfocused gaze found movement. But if I don't pay attention to my gaze, I will absolutely stare. Bug-eyed and desperate to keep going, I will watch in fascination as someone lifts my body weight without effort.
My brain nudges my body--you can do that, too! If only I didn't want to bonelessly slide out of the machine and puddle on the ground. 12 more reps to go. Ugh!
The other day, after I did the weights, I decided to do the stairmaster.
You're probably thinking about this, right?
What I actually did was this:
Maybe it's not much different, but it feels like it is. You are actually walking up stairs. You're way high in the air, walking up stairs. I did 70 flights. Not 70 stairs...70 flights. 70 floors. That is halfway up a skyscraper, isn't it? All while standing still. The thing about real stairs is that you are actually going somewhere. If I am walking up 70 flights, I expect a beer and a great view at the top. I've earned it, haven't I? How about a sandwich? Or at least a cookie. I just did 70 floors!
I didn't get that at the gym, of course. Instead, after I reached the time goal, I half fell off the thing with a bright red face dripping with sweat. I exited the gym walking like John Wayne after a long ride. Not attractive.
Some days, though, when I don't kill myself with stationary cardio equipment, I feel like a buff rockstar leaving the gym. My muscles are tingling, I can feel my upper body muscles, and I develop that bouncing walk some men use all the time. You know the one, with your chest puffed out, and your arms pushed out from your sides to show off your glorious bulging muscles. Oh yes, I walk out to my car with the glow of intense strength.
Of course, what people see is stickly arms with waggling flab pushed out from a lumpy body. Sexy time all over the place! Jealous-much?
This elation lasts the evening. I feel great directly after I work out. When all the endorphins are pinging around my body, and I feel strong...working out is totally worth it at that time.
And then the soreness kicks in. After every time I work out, I can pick out each individual muscle. Because it hurts. Every time I move.
Ugh.
And then I get tired. Sore and tired. And...cranky. Oh yeah, I get cranky when it hurts to move. And bitter. Yay! I'm a ray of sunshine a day after intense muscle building. I bet everyone is jealous of my husband, poor guy.
So that's about the extent of it right now. I combat my jiggly parts by hitting the gym. I zoom around, working out, and then hobble away.
I'm totally going to have the best body ever. Really. Honest.
I'm not sure who I am trying to convince...
April 17, 2014
Not a Baby Person
I'm not one of those people who go ga-ga over a new baby. I'm really not. Nor have I ever been.
You know the women I am talking about--hell, you probably are the woman I am talking about. Most are. And those that aren't feel pressure to be, so they pretend.
I don't pretend.
Babies scare me. They're small and fragile and mostly unpredictable. They flail and cry and I have absolutely no idea what is going on. Sure, I have a three-year-old, but that was a blur of terror. My kid would cry, and I would rock her and walk her and stare longingly out the window because I didn't know what the hell I was doing and figured throwing myself out might be a better choice all around.
Granted, yes, that wore off. The first three months were enough to strap an Acme rocket to my back and light the fuse. Hormones, fear of breaking this unknown thing, mystified someone would let me reproduce without a test or class of some kind, especially when I'd never taken care of a baby before...
I digress. That's not really the point. The point is, I did survive those baby years. And I'll do it once more if biology permits, but just because I like my kid, doesn't mean I like your kid. It also doesn't mean I like strangers' babies any more than I ever did.
I don't sprint across the crowded supermarket, knocking over everyone in my way, to get a look at the new baby. I don't lean over an unsuspecting schmuck to get a look at the bundle in the stroller passing by Schmuck's other side. I don't wave my hands in front of me, desperate to hold that mewling little pooper. You have a pregnant belly? Super. No, I don't want to touch it, because I don't want to touch you. Please stop asking.
I also think its gross when I get thrown up on. By anyone. Of any age. So no, I don't want to feed, and then burb, your baby. I know how now, so I could, I just don't want to. I also don't want to clean your house, or make you dinner. Feeding and burping babies isn't cute--it's work. Babies are work. I know this because I had one. So...thanks, but let the squealing woman do it. She can have my turn.
You know what else? I don't really like talking about poop. I never, in a million years, realized I'd talk so much about poop. How often, the color, the smell--applauding when a poop has left the butt and plunked into the toilet...
I do this. I clap and praise and get very excited. Because a little human just pooped. I then have a look in, to make sure. Poop has become a go-to topic. Like when you open Google and it tells you how often you are on which sites...poop would be "very active".
Anyway, back to babies. I am one of those rare women that will admit to not wanting to hold a baby. I just don't want to. Sure, I'll do it to help out if I need to, but if I had to choose between a baby and a beer...
Do you really want me to tell you which I would choose?
When women ask, "Do you want to hold her?" with that tone that indicates it is the best treat in the world, I still say, "No, I'm okay." Always have. Too stressful. I do not want your most precious possession in my hands. I really don't. Especially not a living one.
I don't know. I guess I didn't get that gene into womanhood. Upside--I don't have nearly as much puke and poop on me as other women who did...
*This post was initiated by a woman who stopped traffic at the grocery store to show a teller her new born. Woman, now is hardly the time. Move on, now. Fabulous, yes, you procreated, now put some gas in this engine and get going.
You know the women I am talking about--hell, you probably are the woman I am talking about. Most are. And those that aren't feel pressure to be, so they pretend.
I don't pretend.
Babies scare me. They're small and fragile and mostly unpredictable. They flail and cry and I have absolutely no idea what is going on. Sure, I have a three-year-old, but that was a blur of terror. My kid would cry, and I would rock her and walk her and stare longingly out the window because I didn't know what the hell I was doing and figured throwing myself out might be a better choice all around.
Granted, yes, that wore off. The first three months were enough to strap an Acme rocket to my back and light the fuse. Hormones, fear of breaking this unknown thing, mystified someone would let me reproduce without a test or class of some kind, especially when I'd never taken care of a baby before...
I digress. That's not really the point. The point is, I did survive those baby years. And I'll do it once more if biology permits, but just because I like my kid, doesn't mean I like your kid. It also doesn't mean I like strangers' babies any more than I ever did.
I don't sprint across the crowded supermarket, knocking over everyone in my way, to get a look at the new baby. I don't lean over an unsuspecting schmuck to get a look at the bundle in the stroller passing by Schmuck's other side. I don't wave my hands in front of me, desperate to hold that mewling little pooper. You have a pregnant belly? Super. No, I don't want to touch it, because I don't want to touch you. Please stop asking.
I also think its gross when I get thrown up on. By anyone. Of any age. So no, I don't want to feed, and then burb, your baby. I know how now, so I could, I just don't want to. I also don't want to clean your house, or make you dinner. Feeding and burping babies isn't cute--it's work. Babies are work. I know this because I had one. So...thanks, but let the squealing woman do it. She can have my turn.
You know what else? I don't really like talking about poop. I never, in a million years, realized I'd talk so much about poop. How often, the color, the smell--applauding when a poop has left the butt and plunked into the toilet...
I do this. I clap and praise and get very excited. Because a little human just pooped. I then have a look in, to make sure. Poop has become a go-to topic. Like when you open Google and it tells you how often you are on which sites...poop would be "very active".
Anyway, back to babies. I am one of those rare women that will admit to not wanting to hold a baby. I just don't want to. Sure, I'll do it to help out if I need to, but if I had to choose between a baby and a beer...
Do you really want me to tell you which I would choose?
When women ask, "Do you want to hold her?" with that tone that indicates it is the best treat in the world, I still say, "No, I'm okay." Always have. Too stressful. I do not want your most precious possession in my hands. I really don't. Especially not a living one.
I don't know. I guess I didn't get that gene into womanhood. Upside--I don't have nearly as much puke and poop on me as other women who did...
*This post was initiated by a woman who stopped traffic at the grocery store to show a teller her new born. Woman, now is hardly the time. Move on, now. Fabulous, yes, you procreated, now put some gas in this engine and get going.
April 16, 2014
Review: The Supermodel’s Best Friend by Gretchen Galway FREE
The Supermodel’s Best Friend by Gretchen Galway FREE
Genre: Romantic ComedyReviewer: Sally Sparrow
Amazon | Goodreads | iTunes
Lucy Hathcoat's best friend the supermodel is getting married to a billionaire—what better place than their week-long wedding in a luxury eco-resort to find a new man? Lucy isn’t picky; she just wants a decent guy who’s eager to start a family. Someone as logical, responsible, and practical as she is.
Definitely not the six-foot-five, fun-loving Miles Girard. Being totally hot and charming is not important. She doesn’t need a college dropout who makes her laugh. A man who makes her jump in his lap and kiss him. A man who is pathologically wary of marriage and thinks she needs him more than she needs a husband.
Then again, Lucy’s starting to feel like maybe, just maybe, she can’t live without him…
I did not have high hopes for this book when I read the title. But, the cover art is playful, the synopsis sounded fun, and I desperately needed something light and fluffy to read so I gave it a shot.
Light and fluffy is the book version of a Girls Night Out. Lighthearted, fun, emotionally refreshing. The Supermodel’s Best Friend is all of these things.
Supermodel Fawn is marrying Huntley, the son of a billionaire, after a mere two months of dating. They are spending the wedding week at a New Age spa resort with all of their nearest and dearest - Fawn’s grade school besties, Huntley’s prep school buddies, and both families. While Huntley is struggling to be an adult to his domineering parents, Fawn is busy playing matchmaker with all of her friends. It is not an original premise but the execution is so much fun.
There is the usual female drama, male obtuseness, and stressful family dynamics. The New Age spa resort setting adds a different element, which I very much enjoyed. There is also a fair amount of sex and nudity, if that is what you are looking for.
One of my favorite aspects of this story is the different versions of beauty portrayed. Lucy (aka the supermodel’s best friend) is short and has wide hips and short, wildly curly red hair. The other women are all different shapes and sizes, and they all seem quite comfortable with their bodies and their sexuality. No one has the “perfect” body, and there is open nudity and casual, consensual sex without modesty or embarrassment.
Additionally, the women are all strong, independent, and generally happy with who they are. The male characters are similarly pleased with themselves and their lives. While there are some emotional issues, they are all tied to parents and upbringing rather than anything really traumatic.
This isn’t a pull-you-in-and-forget-the-real-world kind of book, but it is very engaging and I was sorry when I reached the end. Best of all, there are several Happily Ever Afters.
I found this book in the free section of Amazon or iBooks, which is my favorite way of finding new authors. The free section is like wine sampling - who wants to pay for it if you aren’t sure it is any good? Give me a free book, and if I really like it I will buy everything else that author writes.
I have already bought the next one by Gretchen Galway.
4.5 stars
April 15, 2014
Cover Reveal!! Fruit of Misfortune by Nely Cab
COVER REVEAL
KFB comment: I really like that cover. I like the eyes and the color as they highlight the attitude of the girl. It intrigues me. I will immediately look at the blurb on this one! BOOK & AUTHOR INFO:
Fruit of Misfortune by Nely Cab
(Creatura #2)
Publication date: May 1st 2014
Genres: Paranormal, Young Adult
Isis and her boyfriend, David, are on the brink of a horrible transformation and they are eager to stop it. Together, they set out on a quest to Greece to find Isis’ biological father—the only person that may be able to help them. Their journey comes to an abrupt stop before it even begins when Isis falls ill, and Eros, David’s best friend, arrives in Athens, unannounced and curious…with a plan of his own.
The hunt for her father leads Isis on the turbulent path of deceit, death, and demons as she anticipates the dawning of the beast that stirs inside her.
AUTHOR BIO
Nely Cab has lived and resided in a small, quiet South Texas town most of her life. She worked in banking for several years, before she relocated to Monterrey, Nuevo Leon, Mexico in 2001, where she dedicated time to the study of culinary arts and the art of oil painting. After her return to the U.S., Nely resumed her employment in banking and later transitioned to the field of Social Work.
Today, Nely Cab writes from the comfort of her home, where she lives with her husband and son. Her life goal is to check-off Bucket List Item No. 95,623,351: To Conquer the World. While she aspires world domination, Nely can be found lost in other fantasy worlds in front of her computer, sipping coffee.
SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS: Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Website | Blog | Goodreads
CREATURA BUY LINKS: Audible, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and iTunes
PRELUDE BUY LINK: Amazon
KFB comment: I really like that cover. I like the eyes and the color as they highlight the attitude of the girl. It intrigues me. I will immediately look at the blurb on this one! BOOK & AUTHOR INFO:Fruit of Misfortune by Nely Cab
(Creatura #2)
Publication date: May 1st 2014
Genres: Paranormal, Young Adult
Isis and her boyfriend, David, are on the brink of a horrible transformation and they are eager to stop it. Together, they set out on a quest to Greece to find Isis’ biological father—the only person that may be able to help them. Their journey comes to an abrupt stop before it even begins when Isis falls ill, and Eros, David’s best friend, arrives in Athens, unannounced and curious…with a plan of his own.
The hunt for her father leads Isis on the turbulent path of deceit, death, and demons as she anticipates the dawning of the beast that stirs inside her.
AUTHOR BIO
Nely Cab has lived and resided in a small, quiet South Texas town most of her life. She worked in banking for several years, before she relocated to Monterrey, Nuevo Leon, Mexico in 2001, where she dedicated time to the study of culinary arts and the art of oil painting. After her return to the U.S., Nely resumed her employment in banking and later transitioned to the field of Social Work.Today, Nely Cab writes from the comfort of her home, where she lives with her husband and son. Her life goal is to check-off Bucket List Item No. 95,623,351: To Conquer the World. While she aspires world domination, Nely can be found lost in other fantasy worlds in front of her computer, sipping coffee.
SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS: Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Website | Blog | Goodreads
CREATURA BUY LINKS: Audible, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and iTunes
PRELUDE BUY LINK: Amazon
April 14, 2014
Review: Timebound by Rysa Walker
Timebound by Rysa Walker
Genre: YA, time travelReviewer: K.F. Breene
2013 Winner — Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award — Grand Prize and Young Adult Fiction Winner
Amazon | Goodreads
After her father dies, Rachel realizes she is scared and stuck. Scared of heights, of cars, of disasters harming the people she loves. Stuck in a life that is getting smaller by the minute. Stuck with a secret she has kept all her life: Someone has been watching over her since birth. Someone who tends to show up when she needs him the most. Someone she believes is her guardian angel.
Eaden is a 1,500-year-old immortal who wants to die. Drained by a life stretched too thin, he has requested his final reward – a mortal sacrifice bred specifically to bring him death. But something went wrong. Rachel’s ability to grant death has mutated in ways that threaten to upset the uneasy alliance between mortals and immortals. And utterly beguiled, Eaden discovers that although Rachel is the key to his death, because of her, he no longer wants to die. And he will do anything to protect her.
Swept into a world of legends, caught between the warring political factions of immortals, and carrying the future of mortal kind in her flesh and bone, Rachel must risk everything to save her world and the man she loves.
This book was...good.
In the beginning I wanted to say it was great. I was in a Ferrari, peddle to the floor, cheeks wagging with the speed, and hanging on for the ride. I was totally into it.
This YA book is about that hard to pin-down and figure-out topic of time travel. Our unsuspecting heroine, Kate, learns that she has a gene which allows her to use a time-traveling devise from the future. Her grandmother, also from the future, but trapped in our current time, was an employed historian whose job it was to travel to historical events, update the records, and return home. However, we soon learn that her traveling partner didn't just want to learn about events, he wanted to change them. His interference led to a safety measure with their company to pull all ties by their company, thus stranding them in whatever time they had *jumped* to.
The book, for me, was divided into thirds. The first third was the exciting one. We open with action. Kate is chased, in another time, by a villain. The prologue wraps up with her falling into enemy hands.
Immediately I was like--this is rock star! Let's have more of that!
Fairly immediately we learn, as Kate does, that she is special. She can see a glowing medallion when others cannot. She has special powers, which are soon revealed to actually be a gene predisposed to time travel. How exciting! We meet bachelor number one in two instances. One is mostly erotic and not totally real (it was when she handled the madalian for the first time), and the second was on a train when he hints of their life together. Of a time when they were deeply in love. He gives her her first kiss.
This part in the story is about when I am leaning forward in anticipation and contemplating an all-nighter, because this is going to be good. Four and five stars are rolling around my head. I'm excited to get to the next page.
And just like that, the pace grinds to a crawl. Ms. Walker has some s'plainin' to do. Damn.
The middle third of the book is one large info dump after the other. Through explanation by the grandmother and various diaries, a lot of detail is painstakingly laid at our feet. Kate tries to note that it is confusing, and she only understands a little--an attempt to let the reader off if we didn't understand, either. The problem, though, was that it seemed unnecessarily muddled. As though the author hadn't quite worked it all out, either. She had it mostly there, but...not quite. Unfortunately, I started to get bored.
Also in the middle third is where the next frustrating thing happens. The immersion of a strange love triangle. We have the intrigue and mystery of bachelor number one, who loves Kate, but is from another time. We want to know him really bad. There is the element of lust and desire and dark eyes and a handsome face. We are hell bent on knowing that guy...
But there is all this lecturing that has to happen, so the author, apparently deciding a love interest at all times is mandatory, pushes bachelor number two at us. Kate meets him in a scene out of Twilight, but without the buildup. This girl, in a state of confusing turmoil and life upheaval, still trusts a strange new boy fairly immediately. He is kind of boring and dull, not all that well-thought out or portrayed, but takes over for the main love interest.
But what about the first guy? What about time travel? What about the continuation of the story set-up in the beginning? Why do we have to do this side-to-side investigation that seems to unnecessarily drag out the guts of the book?
I started to lose my way, wading through boredom. I started wishing for the book to just be over at that point. I wanted to get to the conclusion and move on. (But at least I wanted to finish, which is not true of other, less noteworthy, book.)
Alas, we finally reach the final third and things start to pick up again. Finally. High-octane is turned back into (almost) high gear, and I was again along for the ride. I still had to skim, unfortunately, just wanting to get to the action, but it was still good, and I was excited to finally be getting somewhere.
The triangle reemerges, but in a strange, disjointed way. Some of the plot is wrapped up, so there is a gratifying element, and also a pull into the next book.
I did like this book, mostly. I wanted to keep reading, was happy to jump back into it after a pause, and loved the writing. If it wasn't for that disjointed middle third, the overly confusing rules regarding time travel, and the somewhat forced love triangle, I would be grinning and excited and pushing this book in people's faces. I would be anxiously awaiting the next installment. I would probably go buy a pin with a thumbs up and the title of the book.
Sadly, I think I will just take note of Rysa Walker's name, because this is her debute and she is an excellent writer, and wait until she has a few more books under her belt before I try another one. Time travel is tricky, and in this instance, I'm not sure it worked that well.
3.5 stars and a frowny face, because in the beginning I thought it would be at least four stars
In fact, I really want to give it four stars...but just can't. The element of the story doesn't warrant that solid of a recommendation. Boo!
April 9, 2014
The Pull to Keep Working
I am in a really weird place right now.
I have tried to step away from this author gig, push the constant irritation of reviews out of the way, and get my head wrapped around real life. I have put myself into a standard office job using the non-artistic side of my brain. I have banned myself from working on anything. I have banned myself from reading anything I have written.
I am going crazy.
This is what I have sitting in my computer at this very minute--
Two books for a fantasy series.They each need one more self-edit before they go into the grind of getting ready for publishing. In other words, they are nearly there.Two books in a full length paranormal series (not Darkness). I only have the first drafts. I need to read through again, heavily change, before re-shelving. It has a long way to go, but the story is calling me. Both the male and female characters ask that I come back and jump into the world with them.One contemporary romance stand aloneI have the first draft done. I had a hard time stepping away after I finished it. I wanted to immediately go back and read all over.One contemporary romance stand alone as a continuation of the Growing Pains Series.I just finished this one, and kind of want to tweak the ending. I am okay to let this one sit for a second, though. I pushed really hard to get it finished before I went back to work.Two Darkness novellas, both longer than previous novellas.These also only have a first draft. I have eight things written, and sitting in my computer. Eight books. Eight.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I have another idea rolling around for a dystopian series. I'm still constructing that world in my head, though, so it is a long way off, but I am moving in. I am starting to live there--starting to write down bits that will eventually go into a book.
In addition, I might add on to that Fantasy. I ended it abruptly. It would do with a book about one of the characters and the continuing war. The full scale paranormal romance is a continuing series. That will need a few more books. I already have ideas for continuing Darkness.
I mean, this is getting ridiculous. I don't have writers block, obviously. If I did, I wouldn't just keep pumping out stories so they weren't sitting in my head. Maybe I would finish one or two before I added to the growing pile.
I'm shaking my head at myself.
So yeah, I took a break from the world of writing because Darkness is taking a lot out of me. I wanted to go back to pre-writing. To the time when I was bored in the evenings. When I read a book a week or more. I wanted to push away anything writing-wise and go back to the office grind.
But two things are messing with me.
One--I don't need that office job. I am making a salary at writing. It nearly kills me when I try to juggle the two jobs. So I get pulled by the second thing--that list. That huge list. I want to start working on that fantasy right now. I want to open the word doc and start reading. Start changing. Smile in greeting at the characters. But I can't, because it will consume my life until it's finished. I won't be able to stop once I start. I won't want to read anything else.
I feel like Sasha when Stefan is around--that pulling in the center of my chest. In this situation, that pulling is not a person, it is a computer with my means to escape stored within its depths. I am in a really weird half-life right now.
Here's another stick for the fire--that temp job I took? They are hoping to keep me until they get approval to hire, and then are thinking I can just slip right in. They are thinking along the lines of permanent. And eventually, yes, that is best, because I don't know how long I will stay at this writing gig. But right now??
My eyes scan back up to that huge list. I just have so much work to do...
I have tried to step away from this author gig, push the constant irritation of reviews out of the way, and get my head wrapped around real life. I have put myself into a standard office job using the non-artistic side of my brain. I have banned myself from working on anything. I have banned myself from reading anything I have written.
I am going crazy.
This is what I have sitting in my computer at this very minute--
Two books for a fantasy series.They each need one more self-edit before they go into the grind of getting ready for publishing. In other words, they are nearly there.Two books in a full length paranormal series (not Darkness). I only have the first drafts. I need to read through again, heavily change, before re-shelving. It has a long way to go, but the story is calling me. Both the male and female characters ask that I come back and jump into the world with them.One contemporary romance stand aloneI have the first draft done. I had a hard time stepping away after I finished it. I wanted to immediately go back and read all over.One contemporary romance stand alone as a continuation of the Growing Pains Series.I just finished this one, and kind of want to tweak the ending. I am okay to let this one sit for a second, though. I pushed really hard to get it finished before I went back to work.Two Darkness novellas, both longer than previous novellas.These also only have a first draft. I have eight things written, and sitting in my computer. Eight books. Eight.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I have another idea rolling around for a dystopian series. I'm still constructing that world in my head, though, so it is a long way off, but I am moving in. I am starting to live there--starting to write down bits that will eventually go into a book.
In addition, I might add on to that Fantasy. I ended it abruptly. It would do with a book about one of the characters and the continuing war. The full scale paranormal romance is a continuing series. That will need a few more books. I already have ideas for continuing Darkness.
I mean, this is getting ridiculous. I don't have writers block, obviously. If I did, I wouldn't just keep pumping out stories so they weren't sitting in my head. Maybe I would finish one or two before I added to the growing pile.
I'm shaking my head at myself.
So yeah, I took a break from the world of writing because Darkness is taking a lot out of me. I wanted to go back to pre-writing. To the time when I was bored in the evenings. When I read a book a week or more. I wanted to push away anything writing-wise and go back to the office grind.
But two things are messing with me.
One--I don't need that office job. I am making a salary at writing. It nearly kills me when I try to juggle the two jobs. So I get pulled by the second thing--that list. That huge list. I want to start working on that fantasy right now. I want to open the word doc and start reading. Start changing. Smile in greeting at the characters. But I can't, because it will consume my life until it's finished. I won't be able to stop once I start. I won't want to read anything else.
I feel like Sasha when Stefan is around--that pulling in the center of my chest. In this situation, that pulling is not a person, it is a computer with my means to escape stored within its depths. I am in a really weird half-life right now.
Here's another stick for the fire--that temp job I took? They are hoping to keep me until they get approval to hire, and then are thinking I can just slip right in. They are thinking along the lines of permanent. And eventually, yes, that is best, because I don't know how long I will stay at this writing gig. But right now??
My eyes scan back up to that huge list. I just have so much work to do...
Review: Unbound by Georgia Bell & GIVEAWAY
Please see TOUR wide GIVEAWAY at the bottom of the post!!
Unbound by Georgia Bell (All Good Things #1)
Genre: Paranormal Romance, YAReviewer: Sally Sparrow Publication date: November 2nd 2013
Amazon | Goodreads
After her father dies, Rachel realizes she is scared and stuck. Scared of heights, of cars, of disasters harming the people she loves. Stuck in a life that is getting smaller by the minute. Stuck with a secret she has kept all her life: Someone has been watching over her since birth. Someone who tends to show up when she needs him the most. Someone she believes is her guardian angel.Eaden is a 1,500-year-old immortal who wants to die. Drained by a life stretched too thin, he has requested his final reward – a mortal sacrifice bred specifically to bring him death. But something went wrong. Rachel’s ability to grant death has mutated in ways that threaten to upset the uneasy alliance between mortals and immortals. And utterly beguiled, Eaden discovers that although Rachel is the key to his death, because of her, he no longer wants to die. And he will do anything to protect her.
Swept into a world of legends, caught between the warring political factions of immortals, and carrying the future of mortal kind in her flesh and bone, Rachel must risk everything to save her world and the man she loves.
I love stories about ordinary people. Ordinary people, leading ordinary lives, until suddenly something extraordinary happens to them. To me, it is the best kind of story. I get to witness the metamorphosis of this ordinary person, see how they adapt, change, and rise up to the challenge presented by the extraordinary incident. It is relatable in a very organic way.
Unbound is the tale of an ordinary girl/woman. Rachel is eighteen - technically a woman, but still something of a girl. She has suffered great loss in her life and in response to these losses became a prisoner to her fears. Rachel finally decides to seek help and after a few weeks of therapy takes a huge step in facing one of her fears. This step leads to her falling in love and from there her life spirals out of control in ways none of us could ever anticipate.
I did not expect this book to be about love. The beginning chapters were focused on Rachel and her restrictive fears so much that I thought it was a coming-of-age story. Somehow the coming-of-age angle got fused with romance, with both good and not-so-good results.
The relationship itself works nicely, but the falling-in-love part is both unexpected and creepy. Her love interest, Eaden, is an immortal who has been watching over Rachel since her birth. Over the course of her life Rachel has seen him occasionally, dreamt about him regularly, sensed his presence constantly, and has been saved by him a few times. When she finally confronts him they have a brief conversation, followed by an erotic dream that night, and bam! she is in love with him. Eaden, on the other hand, has been creeping on her since her infancy. Their being in love is disturbing when I consider the situation, although they work so well together that I easily forget these early details.
This story takes several unexpected turns, and does it well. It is a long book and could easily have been broken up into several shorter installments, but I prefer getting the full story all at once. I was happily pulled in and enjoyed the ride very much, right up through the story’s climax. A good start, a strong journey, but a less than stellar end.
The last chapter - which probably should have been an epilogue, as it takes place months later - was a bit too pat and not as well written as the rest of the book. I got the feeling that the author wasn’t quite sure how to wrap things up.
Unbound is a great book. It isn’t perfect - there are a few issues - but it is the author’s first novel and as a first effort it is wonderful. I look forward to seeing how Ms. Bell grows as an author and am eagerly awaiting the next installment in this series.
3.5 stars with lots of potential
AUTHOR BIO:
Georgia Bell was raised on a steady diet of science fiction and fantasy, courtesy of her father, a man who loved his family, fishing, scotch, and science (although not necessarily in that order). Georgia is an avid reader of young adult fiction, and a lover of good wine, music, children, and cats (although not necessarily in that order).
Website | Twitter | Goodreads
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April 8, 2014
Which Bookstores Should You Sell Your Book
You've decided to self-publish, you've got your book edited, your cover and blurb finished, and now you are looking around for a place to sell it.
Did you know about 1/3 of book purchases happen at Amazon? Of course you did. Everyone knows that.
Did you know that Amazon offers a service where you sign exclusively with them, which entitles you to a share in this huge pot, depending on how many books of yours are downloaded for loans? Or that they offer special spotlights, and alert customers to deals, and all such wonderful-sounding things? All it takes is selling exclusively to Amazon.
Tempting, no?
NO! NO, it is not tempting!
The thing about selling something, ANYTHING, is getting the most visibility. Getting a wide base to reach the most people you possibly can. Getting into every possible market out there to cover as much ground as possible. Wider awareness leads to more initial sales, and more repeat business.
Typically, 2/3 of my income comes from iTunes. They may only sell a small portion of the overall pie, but a lot of people aren't in iTunes for whatever reason--I have a larger piece in that pie. Also, iTunes readers tend to be younger, more easy-going, more hip. They aren't as offended by my stuff. They buy easier. They aren't such book snobs.
In other words, iTunes houses a big portion of my demographic. Selling in iTunes is going to help me buy a house. I wouldn't have that exposure if I signed my rights to Amazon.
If you don't have the time, patience, or know-how to upload your manuscript all over town, use a distributor. What is a distributor? A distributor is the middle man. They work with your stuff, send it out to bookstores, keep track of your various sales, and then take a cut. You upload once, and your book is sold in various stores.
There are three distributors I know of. Smashwords, which is the largest (they pay out every 3 months as opposed to month-to-month like everyone else), Lulu, and Draft2Digital. I use Smashwords for those I don't upload to directly.
So here's the skinny. This is where I sell, and how:
Amazon - I upload myself (with a Word doc), I allow loans on my books, and I do NOT partake in any exclusive mumbo-jumbo.
iTunes - I upload myself (I turn my Word doc into a Pages doc on my Mac, and then change it to an ePub doc).
Smashwords - I upload myself (word 2003 doc). The only store in smashwords I don't distribute to (other than those I upload myself) is Sony. This is because Sony doesn't make changes when you change something in Smashwords, they often have the pricing wrong, they don't do much business, and are a huge headache. For a couple bucks a month, I'll decline :)
As I said, I do most of my sales through iTunes. Second is Amazon, third is B&N through Smashwords, then the rest isn't really enough to notice. Possibly soon I'll be in Google as well.
So which bookstores should you sell your book? All. Sell it everywhere you can. Try to touch as many people as you possibly can.
Did you know about 1/3 of book purchases happen at Amazon? Of course you did. Everyone knows that.
Did you know that Amazon offers a service where you sign exclusively with them, which entitles you to a share in this huge pot, depending on how many books of yours are downloaded for loans? Or that they offer special spotlights, and alert customers to deals, and all such wonderful-sounding things? All it takes is selling exclusively to Amazon.
Tempting, no?
NO! NO, it is not tempting!
The thing about selling something, ANYTHING, is getting the most visibility. Getting a wide base to reach the most people you possibly can. Getting into every possible market out there to cover as much ground as possible. Wider awareness leads to more initial sales, and more repeat business.
Typically, 2/3 of my income comes from iTunes. They may only sell a small portion of the overall pie, but a lot of people aren't in iTunes for whatever reason--I have a larger piece in that pie. Also, iTunes readers tend to be younger, more easy-going, more hip. They aren't as offended by my stuff. They buy easier. They aren't such book snobs.
In other words, iTunes houses a big portion of my demographic. Selling in iTunes is going to help me buy a house. I wouldn't have that exposure if I signed my rights to Amazon.
If you don't have the time, patience, or know-how to upload your manuscript all over town, use a distributor. What is a distributor? A distributor is the middle man. They work with your stuff, send it out to bookstores, keep track of your various sales, and then take a cut. You upload once, and your book is sold in various stores.
There are three distributors I know of. Smashwords, which is the largest (they pay out every 3 months as opposed to month-to-month like everyone else), Lulu, and Draft2Digital. I use Smashwords for those I don't upload to directly.
So here's the skinny. This is where I sell, and how:
Amazon - I upload myself (with a Word doc), I allow loans on my books, and I do NOT partake in any exclusive mumbo-jumbo.
iTunes - I upload myself (I turn my Word doc into a Pages doc on my Mac, and then change it to an ePub doc).
Smashwords - I upload myself (word 2003 doc). The only store in smashwords I don't distribute to (other than those I upload myself) is Sony. This is because Sony doesn't make changes when you change something in Smashwords, they often have the pricing wrong, they don't do much business, and are a huge headache. For a couple bucks a month, I'll decline :)
As I said, I do most of my sales through iTunes. Second is Amazon, third is B&N through Smashwords, then the rest isn't really enough to notice. Possibly soon I'll be in Google as well.
So which bookstores should you sell your book? All. Sell it everywhere you can. Try to touch as many people as you possibly can.
