Zara Hoffman's Blog: Zara Hoffman's Goodreads Author Blog, page 33

Bucket List and ALL PLAYED OUT Review

My Bucket ListToday's All Played Out Bucket List Tour theme is 5 Musical Acts (bands/musicians) I want to see live, so without further ado, here's my list:
Imagine Dragons (I found out about a concert of theirs AFTER the fact; I was devastated)Stromae (I can't make his upcoming concert in NYC and it makes me SO sad)Ellie GouldingZeddTaylor Swift (her concerts look so fun)
And then, just because I'm seeing these people this summer, I'll add 2 more:
Lindsey StirlingTodrick Hall
And then, just because I'd love to see these AGAIN, I'll add ONE MORE bonus:
Sara Bareilles (she's my favorite musician ever, and I missed my chance to see her a second time because of a stupid migraine :( I had tickets and everything! Hopefully my next try will be more successful)

And that's it! Scroll down to read more about All Played Out and my review.About the BookTitle: All Played Out
Series: Rusk University, #3
Author: Cora Carmack
Release Date: May 12, 2015

First person in her family to go to college? CHECK.
Straight A’s? CHECK.
On track to graduate early? CHECK.
Social life? …..yeah, about that….

With just a few weeks until she graduates, Antonella DeLuca’s beginning to worry that maybe she hasn’t had the full college experience. (Okay... Scratch that. She knows she hasn't had the full college experience). 

So Nell does what a smart, dedicated girl like herself does best. She makes a "to do" list of normal college activities.

Item #1? Hook up with a jock.

Rusk University wide receiver Mateo Torres practically wrote the playbook for normal college living. When he’s not on the field, he excels at partying, girls, and more partying. As long as he keeps things light and easy, it's impossible to get hurt... again. But something about the quiet, shy, sexy-as-hell Nell gets under his skin, and when he learns about her list, he makes it his mission to help her complete it.

Torres is the definition of confident (And sexy. And wild), and he opens up a side of Nell that she's never known. But as they begin to check off each crazy, exciting, normal item, Nell finds that her frivolous list leads to something more serious than she bargained for. And while Torres is used to taking risks on the field, he has to decide if he's willing to take the chance when it's more than just a game. 

Together they will have to decide if what they have is just part of the experiment or a chance at something real. My ReviewLet me just say that I love all of Cora's books. I mean, seriously, how can you not? But out of the entire Losing It, Muse, and Rusk University heroines, Nell is by far the most similar to me. Her feeling like she's been working her whole life, but missing the point? Check. Wanting to make a checklist to improve her social life? Check. Exciting college adventures as a result? Still to be seen :) While Nell starts out somewhat timid in new situations, she blossoms into a strong, confident woman who I admire. And she gets an awesome boyfriend in the process. Not a bad bonus.

Still not convinced that you need to read this book? Then, let's move to the male lead of this novel.

Okay, you know why I love Nell. Now let's talk about Matteo Torres. Can I just say that his sass and fearlessness are total turn-ons? I can't? Too bad, I already did. And his self-awareness. Even after a particularly emotional scene, he is able to cool down and reassess the situation—something you never really got to see him do in the other Rusk books where he played a supporting character. A driven goofball with some emotional baggage, but a heart of gold to overcome it? Who can resist that?About Cora Cora Carmack is a twenty-something writer who likes to write about twenty-something characters. She's done a multitude of things in her life-- boring jobs (like working retail), Fun jobs (like working in a theatre), stressful jobs (like teaching), and dream jobs (like writing). She enjoys placing her characters in the most awkward situations possible, and then trying to help them get a boyfriend out of it. Awkward people need love, too. Her first book, LOSING IT, was a New York Times and USA Today bestseller.

Website  |  Twitter  |  Facebook  |  Goodreads The Other Rusk University Books The Other-Other Books

Blog Tour: Killer by JL Beck

In her eyes, he would always be the same…

Twenty-four-year-old Maggie Jacobs had lived a life of heartache and pain. After losing the one and only man she ever loved to incurable cancer, she went on to take a job working for PGI Corporation in hopes she could find a cure in honor of him one day. Little did she know her very working there could be the difference between life and death.

Killer was just that—a killer. He lived for the moments when he could break bones and bring other’s nightmares to life. After all, isn't that what they wanted from him? Genetically altered by the government, stripped of all his own memories, Killer heads down a dark and dangerous road. Memories evade his mind, but nothing sticks out quite like the girl in his dreams. With her dark brown hair and eyes, she’s a danger to 

his heart, but a victim to his rage. He knows she has the answers to his past. If he gets his hands on her, she will never be seen again.

Secrets, lies, and the sweetest of betrayals encompass them. Can Killer find his way through the rage and back to Maggie or is it too late? Can someone who is hell bent on being broken truly be saved?

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Excerpt “Want to hear a joke?” Her voice entered my mind as a flash of a memory hit me. My fists clenched as I gripped at the bed sheet. The muscles in my stomach clenched as I forced myself to hold onto to every second of it.

She had brown hair that flowed down her back freely. Big brown eyes that sparkled as she smiled at something I had said. She was saying something to me, her mouth moving, but I was unable to hear it... She was fading out…

“Killer.” Gauge’s voice was the first I heard, and it only made my anger worse. Who was she, and why the fuck did I have memories of a life I didn’t remember living?

“Get the fuck away from me,” I growled. I was on the verge of ripping the whole fucking room apart. My body was shaking as I shot out of bed.

“Killer. Stop. Calm down.” Gauge’s voice rang in my ears, but his words meant nothing to me. It was as if my mind and body weren’t connected. I wouldn’t be able to stop the destruction I would cause until I found answers. I needed them. So fucking badly.

Blood. Bathe in the blood of your enemies, the little voice in my head said. I smiled like the devil at the mere thought of killing—slaughtering.

I made my way up from the fourth floor climbing all four flights of stairs without a single bead of sweat forming. I was made this way. I was made to be indestructible.

Finding the nearest exit, I pushed out into the open alleyway that sat next to the building. It was time to hunt. To prey upon those who deserved it most. A piece of who I was, the one who clung to my humanity, the one who held onto the memory of that girl—disappeared. In its place was a man who would kill without even a thought. When I looked at the world through these eyes, I saw mass chaos and the need to rectify, to deliver my revenge. There was no mercy, compassion, or caring.

There was only death, revenge, and blood.

Cover Reveal: Project Killer

About The Book Title: Project: Killer
Author: J.L. Beck
Release Date: May 18, 2015
Cover designed by Louisa at LM Creations

In her eyes, he would always be the same...

Twenty-four-year-old Maggie Jacobs had lived a life of heartache and pain. After losing the one and only man she ever loved to incurable cancer, she went on to take a job working for PGI Corporation in hopes she could find a cure in honor of him one day. Little did she know her very working there could be the difference between life and death.

Killer was just that—a killer. He lived for the moments when he could break bones and bring other's nightmares to life. After all, isn't that what they wanted from him? Genetically altered by the government, stripped of all his own memories, Killer heads down a dark and dangerous road.

Memories evade his mind, but nothing sticks out quite like the girl in his dreams.

With her dark brown hair and eyes, she's a danger to his heart, but a victim to his rage. He knows she has the answers to his past. If he gets his hands on her, she will never be seen again.

Secrets, lies, and the sweetest of betrayals encompass them. Can Killer find his way through the rage and back to Maggie or is it too late? Can someone who is hell bent on being broken truly be saved?

Goodreads | Thunderclap | Release Day Party About The Author J.L. Beck is the Best Selling Author of The Kingpin Love Affair Series and The Bittersweet Series. She plays mother and wife by day, and writer extraordinaire by night. When she's not writing, reading or doodling, you can find her watching The Vampire Diaries, and The 100. She currently resides in the tiny town of Elroy, in the state of Wisconsin with her husband of seven years, and three year old hellion.Stalk her, you know you want to...

FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS | NEWSLETTER | FAN CLUBBooks by J.L. Beck ALL J.L. Beck's titles, from the Bittersweet Series to the Kingpin Love Affair Series are FREE to download using Amazon's Kindle Unlimited Program HEREhosted by

Cora's Announcement

HERE’S THE SCOOP! Fans of Cora Carmack’s Rusk University, we have a SUPER exciting announcement:

ALL CLOSED OFF, Book 4 in the Rusk University Series, is coming!!!

Check out this message from Cora!

*WARNING: This letter contains spoilers for All Broke Down. If you haven't yet read that book, read at your own peril.
SECOND WARNING: this letter talks about fictional characters as if they are real people. Sorry I'm not sorry.
THIRD WARNING: The letter below broaches a serious topic that could be a trigger for some people*

Hello beloved readers! 

The first person who read one of my Rusk University books was my older sister. I gave her All Lined Up when I finished, and her first question was "Are Ryan and Stella going to be together?" 

At the time, I told her no. I had plans for both of them that included their own storylines. I thought they were too much alike. They'd make great friends. They might even hook-up, but in the end... I couldn't envision anything serious for them. So I actually rewrote some of their scenes trying to make that aspect of their connection more obvious. And still, when All Lined Up released, amidst the chatter about sweet Carson and sassy Dallas, I had people asking if Stella and Ryan were next. I denied it again (and again and again). 

But sometimes in writing, the stars align and a character will become bigger and more real than you could have possibly imagined. It's a wonderful experience, but in Stella's case it was also incredibly heartbreaking. While I was writing All Broke Down, the news was inundated with information about the Steubenville rape trial and other tragedies and injustices like it. Tragedies where women have been violated first by an attacker, then by judgmental and hateful people, and finally by a justice system that repeatedly fails survivors of sexual assault. Having grown up in Texas, where too often football stars are treated like gods and can get away with just about anything, it hit particularly close to home. And since All Broke Down featured a passionate activist heroine, I felt compelled to reference this chronic dark underbelly of elite sports. 

I can remember vividly sitting on my couch, brainstorming how I would incorporate such an event into the book. I had thought the assault would happen to an unknown character, and maybe I would focus on the way it divided the team and the school and the town. But like I said... Sometimes a character will become bigger and more human than I anticipated. And it sounds crazy, but in my mind, I felt Stella push her way forward and say, "Mine. This is my story." I immediately began to cry. Sob, really. Because I loved her as a character. She was hilarious and strong and didn't take crap from anyone. She was everything I always hope to be. And I didn't want her to go through that. Even as I cried, my brain began to tell me that it made sense. Stella was vibrant and enjoyed a wild party. She was not afraid of her sexuality, and she had no problem with casual sex. She was the kind of girl that probably had a reputation. The kind of girl who could be heinously and violently taken advantage of, and people would STILL blame her. Because she was in the wrong place, wearing the wrong clothes, behaving in the wrong way. But just because it COULD happen to her, didn't mean I wanted it to. But once again, Stella was there in my head saying, "Someone needs to tell this story. And I'm strong enough to do it. Let me." And when Stella chose her story, she also chose the man I'd been adamant wasn't right for her. Because as it turns out... Those two characters who I thought were too alike aren't so alike anymore. And Stella needs Ryan to help her hold on to that vibrant and strong girl she was before. 

So I let go of all the plans I had for her, and allowed her to tell me her story, which is about more than just sexual assault. It's about the aftermath. Depression. Shame. Guilt. Anger. Injustice. Victim-blaming. Slut-shaming. It's about the way that kind of event can change everything-- how you relate to people, how you think, how you dream, how you love. It's about the way the rest of the world moves on to the next big tragedy, and you're still left holding the broken pieces of who you used to be, with no idea how to put them together again or even if you want to. It will be the most difficult story I ever tell. And the most important. Because it’s a story that belongs not just to Stella, but to millions of people around the world. It’s a story that belongs to a new person every 107 seconds*. And that’s just in the United States. Think about that for a moment. 107 seconds. Stella’s story won’t be any easier to read than it will be to write. But I hope you’ll help me drag this story into the light. 

So now I’ll step off my soapbox and just tell you about the book… 

ALL CLOSED OFF:

Stella Santos is fine. 

Maybe something terrible happened to her that she can’t even remember. And maybe it drives her crazy when her friends treat her like she’s on the verge of breaking because of it. Maybe it feels even worse when they do what she asks and pretend that it never happened at all. And maybe she’s been getting harassing emails and messages for months from people who don’t even know her, but hate her all the same. 

But none of that matters because she’s just fine. 

For Ryan Blake, Stella was always that girl. Vibrant and hilarious and beautiful. He wanted her as his best friend. His more than friends. His everything and anything that she would give him. Which these days is a whole lot of nothing. She gets angry when he’s there. Angry when he’s not there. Angry when he tries to talk and when he doesn’t.  
 
When Stella devises an unconventional art project for one of her classes all about exploring intimacy—between both friends and strangers—Ryan finds himself stepping in as guinea pig after one of her subjects bails. What was supposed to be an objective and artistic look at emotion and secrets and sex suddenly becomes much more personal. When he hits it off with another girl from the project, Stella will have to decide if she’s willing to do more than make art about intimacy. To keep him, she’ll have to open up and let herself be the one thing she swore she’d never be again. 
 
Vulnerable. 
 
***** 
 
All Closed Off will be releasing sometime in early 2016. I don't have a date yet for several reasons. The first and most important, is that I want to do this story justice. And as such, I have no intentions of rushing the process. Secondly, I'll be returning to indie publishing for the remainder of the Rusk series. As you can probably tell, this story means a great deal to me. And by having the ultimate control over everything from timing to editing to price, I'll be able to ensure that I'm able to create exactly the story I envision. Unfortunately, that means you won't be seeing the paperback of ALL CLOSED OFF on the shelves in most stores. Nor is it currently available for pre-order. But I hope you'll add the book on Goodreads, follow me on social media, and/or join my newsletter. I promise to shout it all over the place when I have a set release date or pre-order links. 
 
Thank you for listening as I told you the evolution of Stella's story. When it's finished, I hope you will feel as passionately about it as I do. 
 
All my best, 
 
Cora Carmack 

*Statistic from RAINN (Rape, Abuse, Incest National Network)

And an opportunity to add your voice to Stella’s…Stella’s experience is only one story of many. She was with someone she trusted when it happened, and the only memories she has are pieced together from her own blurred recollections and the things people have told her.  Not everyone’s experience with sexual assault is the same. Each person reacts, copes, and overcomes differently. And while this book is about one specific character’s journey, I would like to tell as many sides of this story as possible. As Stella grapples with her thoughts and emotions she’ll be searching for advice, for comfort, for a place where people understand her and can identify with what she’s experiencing. There will be room for truth within the fiction, and if you’d like that truth to be yours, this is your chance. 

If you have a story like Stella’s, and you want your voice to be heard…. 

If there’s something you wish more people understood about what you’ve gone through…. 

If there’s something you’d like to tell people struggling with a story like yours…

I’d like to give you the opportunity to add your voice to Stella’s. Use the hashtag  #WhenItHappened  and let your voice be heard on your own by posting on your own social media, or if you’d rather I share your words fill out this google document and tell me your story. You can fill out this form anonymously or not. I’d like to begin this discussion now because April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month. But my hope is to include as many stories as possible within the book itself.

So many have stories of  #WhenItHappened . Your voice and your story deserve to be heard. I’m listening. 

#WhenItHappened  Google Form: http://goo.gl/forms/4VRjWgZYSW Cora Carmack is a twenty-something New York Times bestselling author who likes to write about twenty-something characters. She's done a multitude of things in her life-- boring jobs (like working retail), Fun jobs (like working in a theatre), stressful jobs (like teaching), and dream jobs (like writing). She now splits her time between Austin, TX and New York City and spends her days writing, traveling, and spending way too much time on the internet. In her books, you can expect to find humor, heart, and a whole lot of awkward. Because let’s face it . . . awkward people need love, too. 

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Seven Deadly Sins Series

The much anticipated release of Fisher Amelie's third standalone installment of The Seven Deadly Series, FURY, finally has a release date! Stay tuned below for the reveals of her new covers for VAIN and GREED, a chapter from FURY, as well as the heart-stopping trailer for FURY, due out May 4th, 2015.

Prepare Yourselves.

About FURY Revenge is an euphoric thing. Trust me on this. Nothing compares to the release you get when you ruin someone’s life. When they’ve stolen important things. Things that didn’t belong to them. Things I revel in making them pay for.

What? Have I offended you? I’m not here to appeal to your delicate senses. I have no intention of placating your wishes or living within your personal belief system nor do I care if you hate me. And you will hate me. Because I’m a brutal, savage, cold-blooded murderer and I’m here for my revenge.

I’m Ethan Moonsong...And this is the story about how I went from the world’s most sacrificing man to the most feared and why I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

Goodreads

Excerpt of FURYI heard a snap and the light cracked on, piercing through my closed lids. My head pounded and I groaned then rolled over, pulling my cover over my head to drown out the source of my pain.

“Get up,” a deep voice commanded. “Get up,” he continued, kicking my shoe.

“Dad,” I rasped. “I’m hungover and feel like shit.”

He was silent for a moment so I pulled the cover down just enough to see his face. He was not amused.

“Ethan, watch your language, get your butt up, and find a job.” I didn’t answer him. I had nothing to say that would please him. “And while you’re at it, stop this ridiculous drinkin’, son.”

I sat up, ran my hands through my long black hair and wrapped the length around my fist. I sat back against the wall, reveling in how cool it was, and tried not to vomit.

“Did you see them today?” I asked him, unable to help myself.

My dad removed his hat and leaned against the jamb, scrubbing his face with his free hand. “You like to torture yourself,” he said, shaking his head then sighing. “You remind me so much of your mama.”

The mere mention of my mother sent me spiraling down once more in depression. We’d lost her a few years before and I was still in agony. That, coupled with the fact that Spencer Blackwell stole my girl right out from underneath my nose, was enough for me to drink to excess every night. I hate him.

“Are they,” I swallowed, afraid of his answer, “are they together now?”

My father sighed again. “Ethan, get dressed.”

“Are they?” I asked again, letting my hand drop to my side. My hair slid with it and cascaded down my back.

“You are a stubborn boy. Yes, okay? Yes, they’re together. All the more reason to move on, son.”

My body suddenly weighed a thousand pounds and I felt my head reeling. So it was true then. They were together and they would probably get married and I was going to have to sit there in that godforsaken small town and watch it all happen. I was going to get a front row seat to my own misery.

I nodded once, rested my hands on my knees for a brief moment, then ran past my dad, shouldering him as I did so and nearly knocking him over before making it to the small bathroom across the hall and retching everything in my stomach into the toilet.

My dad stood in the bathroom doorway shaking his head in disappointment. When I was done, I fell back into the wall. That look shamed me to my core. Any time my dad felt let down, I felt the weight of my disgrace so heavy the only thing I could think to dull the ache was to drink myself into a stupor. It was a vicious cycle.

I let my hair cascade over my face. I heard the old wood floor creak beneath his feet as he left without another word and jumped when the front door slammed. My eyes closed as my head pounded.

The claw foot tub sat to my left so I leaned up and turned on the water, slowly removing my clothing one piece at time. Each movement felt like a hammer slamming into my head.

“God,” I groaned. “I am an idiot.”

I stood then stepped underneath the warm water and just stood in silence, letting the water absorb into my hair and seep into my skin. I breathed in the steam deeply. I was miserable. Not just physically but my heart was the heaviest it’d felt since my mom passed and I had no one to blame but Spencer Blackwell for that.

The asshole who rode into my life under the guise of helping his sister only to yank what I thought was a stable foundation right out from underneath me. He stole from me, a bona fide thief, and I wanted to make him pay. No, I needed to make him pay.

But how?

I finished showering and threw a towel around my waist, stepping from the tub and toppling onto my bed when I reached my room and fell to sleep, not even bothering to dress myself. I fell quickly, fantasizing about my revenge.

I must have slept for hours because when I woke, it was pitch black outside. I rolled onto my side and checked my alarm clock. Eleven o’clock. Perfect timing, I thought.

I sat up and tucked my towel around my waist a little tighter, stood and went straight for my dresser. I grabbed a pair of boxers and socks and put those on before heading for my closet and tossing an old, worn pair of jeans on, a thermal and an old tee. I brushed my teeth, grabbed my wallet and keys, threw on my boots and headed toward my piece of shit truck.

I knew exactly where I was going because it was where I planned on going every night until I forgot about Caroline Hunt.

My truck started but barely and I tore out of our driveway not bothering with my seatbelt, kicking up dust and rocks as my tires spun against the loose gravel. I’d replaced my stereo because I couldn’t stand radio, at least not Kalispell radio, and plugged my phone into the audio cable. Bastille’s Dreams remake blasted and I turned it up, letting the painful lyrics wash over me, fueling my desire to get plastered as quickly as possible.

I entertained myself with thoughts of strangling Spencer Blackwell with both hands then beating the crap out of him with my fists. Bastard. I pulled into the local pub and put my piece into park before tucking my left foot into the emergency brake.

I disconnected my phone and the stereo went silent, reminding me of how alone I really was. I turned the engine off and absolute silence surrounded me. I couldn’t take it. My door creaked with age as it swung open and I slammed it shut, unable not to. The fury raging in my blood was more than I could contain.

Before heading inside, my hand went to the empty space between the cab and the bed and searched for the bottle of whiskey I always had wedged in between. I took a large swig, not wanting to spend too much of my savings on the liquor inside the crap establishment. After all, I was going to need it. Revenge was a costly business.

I took one more swig for good measure and wedged it back in its usual place then wiped my mouth on the back of my sleeve. My hair swung heavy in my eyes. It was still a little wet from my shower and I thought about tying it back with the extra leather tie I usually kept in my glove compartment but thought better of it. It helped me hide and I wanted to hide.

I looked around me. The lot was full but I only recognized a few cars this time which was good because I had no intention of making conversation. Regardless, most of Kalispell had stopped trying because I’d rarely done any responding since Cricket cut out my fucking heart and ate it raw. The hair was only insurance.

I took two deep draws of air, gulping it down, desperate for it to soothe me but, of course, it didn’t. I let each escape my lips in shaky breaths and clenched my fists over and over before deciding to head inside.

My boots crunched the gravel beneath my feet as I headed toward the door. When I entered, I ducked my head toward the floor and let my hair cover me, not that it did any good other than to conceal me. I could still feel the heat of their stares, though, still feel the pity in their gazes. I wanted so badly to yell at them to fuck off but I kept as much composure as possible. I couldn’t get kicked out of the only real bar in Kalispell.

I picked a stool at the end of the bar, the same stool I always did in the corner and in the back because it was dark. I sat and met Vi’s eyes. She sauntered over to me, placing her elbows on the bar top, giving me a clear view of her generous chest. I held back my eye roll.

“Hello, darlin’,” she drawled. “You look like shit.”

“The usual, Vi,” I told her as quietly as I could.

“How ‘bout a kiss then first?” she asked, leaning in a bit more.

“Christ, Vi, how many times? Huh? Just get me the gosh damn drink.”

She laughed. “Already worked up then, I see. I like it,” she said, winking.

Vi, or Violet, was thirty-nine years old, had lived in Kalispell her entire life, and had worked as a bartender for over fifteen years. I could tell at one time Vi had been a beautiful woman but I could also tell she had heard many hollow promises from equally hollow men and that she obviously believed them all. Otherwise, why would she still be there? I watched her tired eyes and her slightly too-forced smile. She had the look of someone who used to be chased but had graduated to the chaser. She looked miserable.

She left and returned with an empty glass and a bottle of Jack. She set the glass on the bar and filled it to the brim. She was being generous. She was always this way. She told me once she hoped I would drink it all away and decide to take her up on her offer. I told her that would be a cold day in hell, to which she only laughed.

“Drink up, buttercup,” she said, smiling lasciviously.

“I will,” I told the bar top.

I watched the world around me through the breaks in the hanging strands and six glasses later, I was starting to finally feel numb. I lifted my head a little feeling slightly relieved, feeling like I could breathe a little deeper now that the ache wasn’t so severe. I continued to search the crowd, not knowing who I was really looking for.

A quiet but persistent nagging awareness took residence in my chest for some unknown reason as I watched a girl dance on her own in the middle of the dance floor. Others around her paid no attention to her but she was the first person my eyes were drawn to. I studied her.

Her hair was tucked into a blue scarf, little tendrils peeking through and grazing across her neck whenever she moved. She was extraordinarily tall and her hips and rear end were more indulgent than I’d ever considered before. She turned slightly, giving me her silhouette. Her stomach was flat and her breasts were full. She was beautiful, I could tell, even if I couldn’t see her fully through the low lights.

“Jeez,” I said, swiping a hand down my face. “I’ve had too much.”

But I still couldn’t stop watching her. She wore worn jean cut offs, a fitted button up with the sleeves rolled up her forearms and ankle boots. She rolled her shoulders playfully, enticing someone she knew just off the dance floor. Another girl joined her side and they did the robot. She threw her head back and laughed.

This shocked me almost sober. “That laugh,” I whispered to myself. “That laugh,” I repeated. I knew it but couldn’t quite place it.

She took her friend’s hand and twirled her around the floor vivaciously. She was so full of life. So my exact opposite.

She lightheartedly skipped in place and raised an arm in salute to her friend before turning toward me.

That’s when I got a good, clear look at her. I gasped out loud and placed my hand on the back of my head, my elbow on the bartop, ducking my head down lower to hide myself further.

Please, please, please do not recognize me, I thought, still watching her from the corner of my eye.

She stood two seats down from me. “Vi!” she said, laughing a little. “Vi!”

Vi turned toward her. “Hey, baby! What’ll it be?”

“Can I have a water, please?” she asked, sitting down and releasing a breath of exhaustion. She continued to smile, though, and it ate a little at my gut.

“Of course,” Vi answered and started to pour water into a clear plastic cup. Vi’s eyes pinched a little. “Hey?” she said.

“Yeah?” she asked.

“How come I never see you drink anything harder?”

Her face fell a little but picked right back up. No one would have noticed it but me. “I’ve never had good luck with alcohol,” she admitted a bit sadly.

Vi was quick enough to recognize something there that didn’t want to be said and let it go with a nod, handing over the water without another word.

“Vi!” someone else called out and she walked their direction.

She took a long drink from her water and set it down, turning toward the crowd and surveying the dancers. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, some private joke she shared with herself.

I looked on her for a long time. Long enough for my heart to calm itself. Long enough to struggle with myself in an internal argument. Finally, I decided that I wasn’t watching her because I found her attractive, though I knew she was. Only that I was wondering what she was doing there.

She turned around in her seat after catching her breath and glanced at me. For a moment, I believed she didn’t recognize me but I was wrong. A second scan confirmed it for her. She leaned in and narrowed her eyes. Shit.

“Ethan?” she asked. “Is that you?”

“Hello, Finley,” I answered.
New Covers for the First 2 Books Goodreads | Amazon | Kindle Goodreads | Amazon | KindleAbout Fisher Amelie Fisher Amelie resides in the South with her kick ace husband slash soul mate. She earned her first 'mama' patch in 2009. She also lives with her Weim, 'Jonah', and her Beta, 'Whale'. All these living creatures keep the belly of her life full, sometimes to the point of gluttony, but she doesn't mind all that much because life isn't worth living if it isn't entertaining, right?

Fisher is the author of The Seven Deadly Series, The Sleepless Series, and Leaving Series, and was a semi-finalist in Amazon's Breakthrough Novel Award.

Find her online:
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Rain in December

Sample Poemstar-crossed lovers

I'll reach to the stars 

I'll reach to the moon 

I'll reach through the galaxy far 

To find you, my dearest, 

My darling, my love, 

And be in the place where you are.

Story Behind A PoemWhen the first breeze of spring

dances through open car windows

and brushes the hair off my neck

or tickles my arm...

that is poetry.

~~~

What makes a poem, a poem? I'm sure there are many poets, professors, and professionals who could base entire books and lectures on that question. However, I'm not quite that ambitious. So, when the youngest daughter of a family of visitors asked me to teach her to write poetry... I took a slightly less traditional route.

I told her that emotion sparks poetry, and that's what makes it good. I mentioned meter and touched on tools like alliteration and metaphor, but I skimmed over meter, stanzas, and sonnets to get down to what I believe is the heart of a poem: feeling.

You can write a poem about an event. You can write a poem about a person. You can write a poem about an item. You can write any sort of poem about anything at all. But what makes a poem poetry? What draws in the reader and pulls out a sigh? What divides the memorable from the mediocre?

Those poets and professors and professionals may not agree with me, a little new nobody-poet with one little personal opinion. But if you ask me, a poem stands on a foundation of feelings.

What do you feel about that event? Who is it that pushes you to love or anger? What emotional memories does an object carry for you? A poem about a girl the speaker once loved and her memory carried in a chipped teacup will hold much more significance than a piece scribbled down about the colors of the owls on my Tervis mug.

This is what I tried to express to the girl, my little protege. But, for all my practice in communicating, I didn't express it quite right. I needed to give her an example. In the middle of the backseat of a minivan, sandwiched between my student and her sister, windows down to allay the heat beginning to rise in our Georgia spring, I reached down to pull my own little notebook from the chaos that was my purse. And, tapping into my own emotions and feelings and whatever I happened to notice in that moment, I scribbled down the first lines of what later became "how to write a poem."

Her voice was clunky and her meter stilted and her rhyme often forced, but my student's very first works held more potential than even I expected. For all the classes and courses and studies in the world, I believe the only thing that will ever make a poem truly last is a fully-rooted basis in emotion. Feelings are as fleeting as moments in time. Our poems are our photographs, capturing that fleeting feeling before it's gone.
a Rafflecopter giveaway About The Author Born in Panama, Emily Rachelle has traveled throughout the country and the world with her Air Force family. Currently, she attends Taylor University in Upland, Indiana, pursuing a degree in English Literature. When she's not curled up with a book or her computer, Emily loves to ride around campus on her hideously hot pink bike. Of course, if it's raining (as it often is in Indiana), Netflix-binging and amateur art are always options. Rain In December is her first published collection of poetry, and you can buy her Christian novella Sixteen on Amazon.

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Blushing Blog Shower

About the Book My name is Olivia Bloom and I. Am. Engaged.

When Berkeley proposed, I thought we’d live happily ever after—we’d plan our wedding and he’d tour with the Brightside while I continued designing lingerie. Instead he dropped a bombshell: he’s starring in a movie with his gorgeous ex, Christina Carlton. And what’s more? I’ve been erased from the public eye. All anyone can talk about these days is #Berkstina.

To be together, Berkeley asked me to work on set as a costume designer--a dream come true--but there’s a catch: we have to keep our relationship secret. I’m okay with not being photographed, but the sneaking around, the lies, his love scenes; it’s not how I imagined our engagement. Berkeley is passionate and driven; it’s one of the reasons I love him. But he has so much going on—am I ready to drop everything to become Olivia Dalton?

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Olivia Bloom On Picking the Dress(es) Time to play dress up! It’s dress shopping time and Gemma and I are headed to Les Habitudes on Robertson to find the perfect wedding and bridesmaids dresses for my upcoming nuptials. We’re armed with inspiration boards, the only problem is I’m not sure which film-inspired gown will be the perfect one…

The Grecian Beach-Wedding: Twenties-Glam: Rustic Romantic Renaissance: Maybe I’ll just have to try them all…

xoxo,
Olivia Bloom Book 1 of The Brightside Series My name is Olivia Bloom and I. Am. Free.

I left for LA with everything I owned piled into my old Volkswagen and dreams of becoming a costume designer. Little did I know I’d wind up designing for a lingerie company—yeah, not sure how I landed this gig—and taken under the wing of two young Hollywood insiders. The fashion shows and parties were great, but life really got exciting when the seriously hottest lead singer of my favorite band started to fall for me.　

How does someone like me, an ordinary girl from Pittsburgh, wind up in the arms of the world’s sexiest rock star—surrounded by celebrities, fashion, and music—and not be eaten alive? Berkeley is everything I've ever dreamed of in a boyfriend, but the paparazzi, the tabloids, the rumors, it's all getting a bit too crazy. My life has become every girl’s dream come true, if only I don’t blink and lose it all…

Goodreads | Amazon | Kindle About the Author Katie Delahanty is a fashion designer turned novelist. She holds a BA in communication studies from UCLA and a professional designation in fashion design from FIDM. It never occurred to her that she was a writer until an economic crisis-induced career shift from fashion designer to lingerie e-commerce webmistress led her to start the company blog. Not being an expert in lingerie, she decided to write the blog as a fictional serial starring a girl named Olivia Bloom who worked for the lingerie line. And that's when Katie fell in love with storytelling. She's been waking before dawn to write ever since. For more info please visit her website at katiedelahanty.com. She loves hearing from you!

Reincarnation Double Giveaway

My cousin recently died and I happened upon 2 books that deal with reincarnation soon after the fact. Both are really interesting. And  since it's officially Spring, I thought I'd do some cleaning with a double giveaway of Incarnate by Jodi Meadows and Soulprint by Megan Miranda. 2 different winners will be picked, and the books will be given out on a first-come, first-serve basis. Sound fun? Okay.

Also, comment below if you believe in reincarnation and why or why not? I'm curious :)About The BooksNew soul: Ana is new. For thousands of years in Range, a million souls have been reincarnated over and over, keeping their memories and experiences from previous lifetimes. When Ana was born, another soul vanished, and no one knows why.

No soul: Even Ana’s own mother thinks she’s a nosoul, an omen of worse things to come, and has kept her away from society. To escape her seclusion and learn whether she’ll be reincarnated, Ana travels to the city of Heart, but its citizens are afraid of what her presence means. When dragons and sylph attack the city, is Ana to blame?

Heart: Sam believes Ana’s new soul is good and worthwhile. When he stands up for her, their relationship blooms. But can he love someone who may live only once, and will Ana’s enemies—human and creature alike—let them be together? Ana needs to uncover the mistake that gave her someone else’s life, but will her quest threaten the peace of Heart and destroy the promise of reincarnation for all?

Jodi Meadows expertly weaves soul-deep romance, fantasy, and danger into an extraordinary tale of new life.

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With the science of soul-fingerprinting a reality, Alina Chase has spent her entire life imprisoned for the crimes her past-self committed. In an attempt to clear her name, Alina unintentionally trades one prison for another when she escapes, aided by a group of teens whose intentions and motivations are a mystery to her. As she gets to know one of the boys, sparks fly, and Alina believes she may finally be able to trust someone. But when she uncovers clues left behind from her past life that only she can decipher, secrets begin to unravel. Alina must figure out whether she’s more than the soul she inherited, or if she’s fated to repeat the past. 

This compelling story will leave readers wondering if this fictional world could become a reality.

Goodreads | Amazon | KindleAbout The Authors











Jodi Meadows lives and writes in the Shenandoah Valley, Virginia, with her husband, a Kippy*, and an alarming number of ferrets. She is a confessed book addict, and has wanted to be a writer ever since she decided against becoming an astronaut. She is the author of the Incarnate Trilogy and the forthcoming Orphan Queen Duology (HarperCollins/Katherine Tegen).

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Megan Miranda is the author of the young adult novels Fracture, Hysteria, Vengeance,and Soulprint (all from Bloomsbury). Her debut adult suspense novel, Disappear, will be published by Simon & Schuster in 2016. Megan has a degree in Biology from MIT and currently lives near Charlotte, North Carolina with her husband and two children. 

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

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Movie Review: Into The Woods

Sorry this review is SO late. A lot has been happening in my life, but since Into The Woods is being released on iTunes today, I thought it was about time to post my thoughts on the movie adaptation of my favorite Sondheim musical. You can also get a filmed version of the original Broadway production on iTunes.

You may remember a while back I posted about "evil" characters and how evil isn't born, but made. Given it was tied to the OUAT finale, I think it's a good "companion" post of sorts since Into The Woods is an amalgam of multiple fairytales with the new storyline of the baker and his wife. While I would never call The Witch in this musical evil, she definitely does some not so nice things. But, as Meryl Streep sings in "Last Midnight," she says: "I'm the hitch, I'm what no one believes, I'm the witch!" Basically, she's the jaded-mostly cynical (but annoyingly realistic) force in life that pushes people to action and makes them deal with the consequences. The last song of the musical says, "Wishes come true, not free," which I think perfectly encapsulates the show.

So! My actual review: I loved it. I cried, laughed, and everything in between while watching this star-studded cast belt out some of my favorite musical theater numbers in awesome costumes (designed by the legendary Margaret Atwood) while being directed by the best (in my opinion) musical-to-movie director, Rob Marshall. If you're not a fan of the same-old girl waits for a prince trope, but still want to experience some of the "classics," this movie is for you.

On a random note, I got super excited when I saw the movie alluding to the original Broadway poster. Broadway poster Screenshot of movie trailer Also, enjoy this cool GIF of Meryl Streep as The Witch: click to go to the source link

1k Likes Giveaway

With the help of my friend Rosy Stars, I finally made it to 1000 likes on Facebook. To celebrate, I'm giving away a signed tarot card (Fawn or Caleb, winner's choice). The giveaway (below) starts tomorrow, but in the meantime, you can look at how pretty the prize is! a Rafflecopter giveaway