I'm Moving!

For a while now, I've been trying to maintain 2 blogs, working on my current WIP - all while holding down a full time job.  Needless to say, it ain't working...  So, I've decided to focus on my new blog/website.  Novel Notions is going on hiatus.  I hope you'll stop by and visit me at my new home:http://dsmcknight.com/  

Thanks for all your past support! I appreciate the time you spent reading/commenting on my posts! And I look forward to connecting with you again!

Review of Eternal Mixture

Author's Blurb:  If you had the chance to start your life over, would you take it? If you were told you would live for eternity, would you embrace it? If a stranger told you he was your soul mate, would you believe it?

Raina Richmond has played it safe her entire life. She has never broken the rules. That is, until Brent Alexander walked straight into her life, causing havoc. Turning her world upside down.

Brent is the new kid in town. He is every girl’s fantasy: adorable, charming, chiseled, and the typical boy Raina usually steers clear of. But there is just something about him she can’t seem to resist. Safe is no longer an option for her. For him, she breaks all the rules.

What she doesn’t realize is that he holds the key to her past, present, and future. Once he reveals the reasons behind their irrevocable connection, she will unlock the answers to all of her questions, and her life as she knows it will never be the same again.

What I thought:  While Eternal Mixture is a Young Adult Paranormal novel, there aren't any blood sucking vampires or werewolves in this tale.  Shevaun Delucia delivers a fresh take on eternal love.  

Raina is the main character in this story.  I felt the author did a great job capturing the conflicting emotions that Raina is experiencing.  Brent is the love interest - He's exactly what females dream of - tough and tender with a great big dose of sexy.  

The romance in this story is a bit steamier than some Young Adult fiction.  However, it doesn't cross the line.  Adult readers might enjoy a little sizzle and teens will relate to the raging hormones.  

There are a few grammatical errors and a couple of story inconsistancies but I enjoyed the author's writing style.  I thought the story flowed at a nice pace - nothing too rushed.  

**I received a copy of this book, in exchange for an honest review.**

BUY LINKS

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Eternal-Mixture-Series-Volume/dp/0615828035/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1408147727&sr=8-1&keywords=eternal+mixture

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/eternal-mixture-shevaun-delucia/1117194877?ean=9780615828039

iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/eternal-mixture/id839709955?mt=11

ETERNAL MIXTURE BLOG TOUR

Thanks for stopping by and participating in the Eternal Mixture Tour!

The author, Shevaun Delucia, is sharing an excerpt of her exciting new novel.

Young Adult Paranormal Romance

Date Published: 11/1/2013

   

If you had the chance to start your life over, would you take it? If you were told you would live for eternity, would you embrace it? If a stranger told you he was your soul mate, would you believe it?

Raina Richmond has played it safe her entire life. She has never broken the rules. That is, until Brent Alexander walked straight into her life, causing havoc. Turning her world upside down.

Brent is the new kid in town. He is every girl’s fantasy: adorable, charming, chiseled, and the typical boy Raina usually steers clear of. But there is just something about him she can’t seem to resist. Safe is no longer an option for her. For him, she breaks all the rules.

What she doesn’t realize is that he holds the key to her past, present, and future. Once he reveals the reasons behind their irrevocable connection, she will unlock the answers to all of her questions, and her life as she knows it will never be the same again.

EXCERPT

He puts the picture down and turns to look at me, face stern and serious, eyes full of hunger. I swallow, chest heaving, unable to break his gaze. “Why do you look at me like this?” I whisper, eyes still locked on his.

            “I just feel this amazing, erotic connection to you. I’ve never felt it before. I’ve met a million women throughout my years, and none of them have come close to touching me the way you do.”

            “Brent…” My voice drifts off as he slowly comes closer. His face is only inches from mine and our breathing is now in sync. Just as our lips are about to touch, my bedroom door slams open.

            “Hey, Rain—” Bailey turns towards the hall and then comes back in the room, obviously flabbergasted with what she almost just witnessed. “Whoa!”

            “Shit!” I say, jumping up from my bed and rushing over to close my door.

            “So you two, what is going on?” Bailey’s eyes glare between Brent and I, mouth grinning from ear to ear. This is the moment she was hoping for—to catch us in the act. She couldn’t stand the fact that I was keeping Brent from her, and now she’s standing here gleaming with satisfaction.

            “Bailey, this is Brent. Brent, this is my friend Bailey,” I introduce them, taking a seat back on my bed, leaning my head against my headboard.

            Brent already moved to the chair at my desk. “Hey, nice to meet you.”

            “And very nice to meet you, Brent,” Bailey responds, still glowing.

            Brent stands up, seeming uncomfortable, and says goodbye to both of us. As soon as we hear the front door close, Bailey immediately turns and faces me with accusing eyes.

            “What?”

            “What do you mean, ‘What?’ Raina, you’re my best friend, and you couldn’t even tell me?” Bailey asks angrily as she gets off my bed and paces across my floor.

            “Bailey, there’s nothing to tell!” I screech quietly.

            I grab my nightclothes out of my dresser drawers and rip off my pants and shirt, strewing them on my floor.

            “Bullshit, Raina! Were you not just here a minute ago when I walked in on you two?” Bailey shrieks in a whisper, throwing her hands in the air.

            “Fine. Yes, you walked in on us almost kissing. But that’s it! We are just friends. You probably just saved me from making a huge mistake,” I admit. “By tomorrow, he’ll probably realize it too.”

            Bailey takes a seat next to me on my bed. “Raina, why can’t you see how beautiful you are? And I don’t just mean physically. You’re a beautiful person inside and out. I wish you could just see what the rest of us see. It’s obvious Brent sees it too.”

Shevaun DeLucia

Shevaun DeLucia lives in upstate New York with her husband, four children, and two dogs. As a stay-at-home mom while her children were young, she fell in love with reading. She indulged in the small moments that took her away from the reality of her loud, overly rambunctious household, bringing her into a world of fantasy. When reading wasn’t enough to satisfy her, she turned to writing, determined to create the perfect ending of her own.

Website: http://shevaundelucia.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Shevaun-Delucia/563843076961083

Twitter: @shevaundelucia1

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7375844.Shevaun_Delucia

BUY LINKS

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Eternal-Mixture-Series-Volume/dp/0615828035/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1408147727&sr=8-1&keywords=eternal+mixture

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/eternal-mixture-shevaun-delucia/1117194877?ean=9780615828039

iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/eternal-mixture/id839709955?mt=11

Blog Tour: Origin by Emailia I Rutigliano

Contemporary / Women's Fiction

Date Published:February 14, 2014

Alexandra Kamin is everywoman. At 42, she has a loving family, terrific children, a great career with a superlative income, a gorgeous face with a terrific figure, and a loving boyfriend. Most impressive is that she is in complete control of every ambit of her life.

Where do you go when you are at the top?

ORIGIN takes you back to the beginning… the beginning of Alexandra’s life in America, the beginning of the truest of love affairs, and the beginning of an entrepreneurial life. Through a series of flashbacks and conversations, Alexandra explains every nuance that made this beautiful family a dynasty that you want to root for.


Schooling, work, child rearing, and family affairs are all under Alexandra’s Order are all accounted for as the years go by.  GNO, love affairs and the truest of loyalties are best second time around.


Read an excerpt:

“NIIIIICCCCEEEE!”  Alexandra bellowed stepping into the “apartment.”  This was really something.

“You’re impressed?”  The svelte blonde laughed, allowing Alexandra to walk through and take it all in.

“Had I known it would be like this, I would have admitted myself into a psychiatric facility a long time ago!”  Alex was making conversation.  Her mind was too busy assessing the place.

She was standing in a two-story duplex.  It was a “New” building, on the West side of New York City overlooking the Hudson River.  The building was entirely made of glass.  Inside the apartment, everything was appointed in tones and textures of white.  

“It’s not too late you know.”  The blonde answered, using exactly the same tone.  “I have friends who run sanatoria and “well-centers” in Connecticut …  and in California, by the surf.  There’s one in Los Cabos too.  They are all luxurious.  Plenty of fancy things and gardens and pool-sides.  I could make arrangements.”

“I’m soooo in!”  Alexandra admitted.  “Where do I sign up, Doc!?  Do I lie on this couch?”   She asked, pointing toward a white, tufted, leather couch.  Alex was trying to analyze how someone was brilliant enough to design it.  It was definitely modern, but  it still had enough “old world” comfort that you could just lounge on it to read or watch TV.  And this leather... it was just... soft, and supple and inviting.  “Wait did we get a diagnosis on me already?”

“Well sure, didn’t your friends already decide that you are depressed and need to be cured?  Why else would you be seeing a psychiatrist?”  The blonde asked, laughing.  She came into the sitting area, and sat down in one of the white lounge chairs. 

“Right.”  Alex agreed.  She sat in the chair opposite her, although they were both facing the outside.  The Hudson River was playing with the sunlight and the water was bouncing the rays in such a way that it looked like it was generating the sparkles.  “So, uhm... how do we do this?”

“Cure you?”  The blonde was laughing, and Alex smirked at her, rolling her eyes. 

“Relax.  This is for you Alexandra. There is no pattern.  Want some water or iced tea or something?”

“Water would be great.”  Alexandra said, though her mind was more into photographing this room. 

The details were extraordinary.  The room was “albino”.  That seemed to be its strength.  Someone specifically made it -- not devoid of color, really -- but purposefully white. It was rich in its whiteness.  The walls, and there were many, although, technically, the whole place was “open”, were of different materials.  Some walls were Venetian or marbleized stucco.  Some were pure Carrera marble, with just the veining showing through.  Some were sueded, and some had mother-of-pearl wall coverings.  But everything was white.  Not cream... but white.  And nothing was in contrast with anything.  The hard and soft surfaces all melded. 

The ceiling-to-floor windows had no treatments. Large, ornate “boxes” that served as moldings (with mother-of-pearl textures) obviously held shades that could be let down by means of a remote control.  There was one, enormous, Chihuly chandelier.  It was white, too. 

“Do all psychiatrists’ offices look like this?”  Alexandra joked, sort of.

“No, actually.  I’m trying a new experiment with you.”  The good doctor said.

About the Author:

Emilia I. Rutigliano     

Emilia I. Rutigliano is an attorney who writes about people that she finds interesting.  Although her books are fiction, she weaves in a lot of the events of her own life, practice and travels.  She lives in New York City with her husband and three precocious teenagers (who occasionally acknowledge her existence when the internet is malfunctioning). 

ALEXANDRA’S ORDER is Emilia’s second book series, and is geared toward readers who enjoy a full story about multi-dimensional characters.  Because ORDER takes place in many locations with many different cultures, Emilia doesn’t write it unless she visits each location and meets the people who speak, think and act the same way as the characters in the book.  It’s a tough life, but she perseveres…

Connect with the author:

Website: www.alexandrasorder.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/alexandrasorderseries

BUY LINKS

Amazon: http://amzn.com/B00IBQ5FV4

The Empress Chronicles' Release Day Blitz

Thanks for stopping by to celebrate the release of 

The Empress Chronicles!

Published by Diversion Books

Purchase on Amazon

Purchase on Barnes & Noble

Purchase on iBooks

Purchase on Kobo

In this dazzling first book in the EMPRESS CHRONICLES series by the author of THE MOMENT BEFORE, one courageous girl seeks keys to the past to unlock the future…

When city girl Liz is banished to a rural goat farm on the outskirts of Portland, the 15-year-old feels her life spiraling out of control.  She can’t connect to her father or his young girlfriend, and past trauma adds to her sense of upheaval.  The only person who seems to keep her sane is a troubled boy who is fighting his own demons.  But all of this changes in one historical instant.

*

One-hundred fifty years earlier, Elisabeth of Bavaria has troubles of her own.  Her childhood is coming to a crashing end, and her destiny is written in the form of a soothsaying locket that has the ability to predict true love.  But evil is afoot in the form of a wicked enchantress who connives to wield the power of the locket for her own destructive ends.

*

When Liz finds a timeworn diary, and within it a locket, she discovers the secrets and desires of the young Bavarian princess who will one day grow up to be the legendary Empress of Austria. It is in the pages of the diary that these two heroines will meet, and it is through their interwoven story that Liz will discover she has the power to rewrite history—including her own…

Readers of books like Rachel Harris’s MY SUPER SWEET SIXTEENTH CENTURY will love THE EMPRESS CHRONICLES

About The Author

Suzy Vitello is a proud founding member of a critique group recently dubbed The Hottest Writing Group in Portland, and her short stories have won fellowships and prizes (including the Atlantic Monthly Student Writing Award, and an Oregon Literary Arts Fellowship).

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/suzyvitello

website: http://www.suzyvitello.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SuzyVitelloBooks

Twitter: @suzy_vitello

Flash Fiction: Because She Loves Me

I was searching for flash fiction prompts, when I came across "Write a story in the voice of an old person." The idea intrigued me...

Because She Loves Me

I open the window, allowing a light breeze and the neighborhood noises to come inside.  The curtains flutter, a horn sounds and I am reminded of another time.  Slowly, I make my way around the bed, stopping when I reach my chair.

"There was a time when I was just like our neighbors—always in a hurry, needing to be somewhere, trying to make a dollar.  Yep.  But that was a long time ago.  Back then, I thought I had it all figured out.  Work hard.  Pay the bills.  Take care of the family.  It's what my father did so that's what I did.  Hell, it's what I taught our boy, John, to do." 

My easel is situated by Martha's bed, across from the window, which offers a surprisingly wonderful view of a dogwood tree. Picking up the paintbrush, I dip the fine bristles into a dab of paint and smear it around on the pallet before gently adding the color to my canvas.  I pause long enough to look at Martha, hoping that maybe I'd see a glimmer in her eyes.  I don't. 

She was my high school sweetheart, the first girl I ever kissed.  As faithful as the day is long, that's my Martha.  I think she deserved better than me. 

"Remember how we always talked about going on that vacation?  You wanted to go to Paris and I wanted to see the pyramids…" I chuckle, patting Martha's leg with my free hand.  "I should have taken you to Paris…"

I continue to dabble paint onto the canvas.  "I called John, yesterday.  But he wasn't home.  Laura said something about him working overtime.  Said she'd have him call.  Maybe she forgot to give him the message…"

I glance at Martha, her eyes have become a window into the bleakness of Alzheimer's.  And once again, I feel the loss of her companionship, her quick wit, her constant support.  Tucking my hurt in a little box, I lock it away and focus on my painting.  "You know, Martha, sitting here with you, painting and all—I reckon I have time to wonder what our life would have been like if I had followed my dreams.  Who knows?  We could have lived in Paris—me painting and you learning to cook French cuisine...  Who am I kidding?  You probably would have taught the French a thing or two about cooking!" I smile to myself.  "You deserved Paris.  Instead you got me…"

I remember how pretty Martha looked, standing at the train station, waiting to welcome me home.  It was thoughts of her that got me through boot camp.  It was thoughts of her that accompanied me to Korea and it was thoughts of her that kept me going during my time in that frozen hell. 

Laying down my paintbrush, I turn to Martha, lifting her soft, delicate hand to my lips.  "I must be the luckiest man in the world, having you for my wife.  I don't know why a girl like you would have ever wanted someone like me." 

Clarity.  I see it in her eyes.  No matter how fleeting, I pray for these moments.  "Lo-ve you," her voice croaks.

"Martha," I cry as the spark fades away...  And this is why she deserved Paris—because she loves me.

Crock Pot Comfort Food - Can It Get Any Better?

I was on the hunt for a new crock pot friendly recipe and came across this one.  My husband and sons loved it so I thought I'd share it with you.  

Found in a cookbook called Slow Cooker Recipes.  It was submitted by Marge Dicton of Bartonsville, PA.




Easy Special Pot Roast

10 3/4 oz. can Cheddar cheese soup
10 3/4 oz. can golden mushroon soup
10 3/4 oz. can French onion soup
3-lb. beef chuck roast

Mix soups in a slow cooker; top with roast.  Cover and cook on low setting for 8 - 9 hours, turning roast halfway through cooking time if possible.  Makes 6 servings.

**The gravy is delicious on noodles, mashed potatoes or rice.**

The Coffee House

I love those pictures of Paris—you know, the ones with the little tables outside of the bistro.   It just looks so... European.  And that probably explains my fascination with the Coffee House.  It's become my Saturday morning ritual.  I sit at a little bistro table, nibble on a croissant, sip my coffee and watch the town-folk.   

It's amazing really—the things a person can see.   Just this morning, Bill (he looks like a Bill to me) ordered a latte and flirted shamelessly with the barista.  He leaned across the counter, lowered his voice, and slid a five dollar tip underneath her fingers.  The barista giggled, he laughed and I stifled the urge to clear my throat. 

I walked to my favorite table and I noticed Bill was seated close by.  As was my custom, I decided to invent a life for Bill.  I imagined he was a successful surgeon, who at any moment would receive an urgent call, prompting him to abandon his morning coffee and hurry to the hospital.  Of course, being a world renowned surgeon left little time for a social life, which in turn, explained his attraction to the young barista.  Surrounded by such intense pressure, pulling patients back from the brink of death—the barista's youth must have been intoxicating…

Except that wasn't the truth.  

I watched as she approached Bill's table, pushing a stroller.  I couldn't hear what she said as she bent down, placing a quick kiss on his check but Bill looked resigned.  Hmmm.  Obviously, she is Bill's wife.  I think I'll call her Natalie.  Natalie could use a fashion pointer or two—like the importance of brushing her hair. 

I glance back at Bill.  Gone is the flirt.  He's now deflated, slumping in his chair, a hand on the stroller.  It's sad really, the things you can learn by just watching the people around you.  Very sad indeed.  I look at Bill and wonder if he wishes he was a surgeon.

The Importance of a Well Written Desciption

Descriptions are important - they help set the stage for pivotal events by connecting the reader to specific places and times.  It is easy to fall back on generic representations. Example:  The night was dark.  The night was quiet.  But living in a rural area, nothing is further from the truth.  A summer night in the south is teaming with activity.  

Sitting on my deck, I was amazed at how noisy silence can be.  I was surrounding by a veritable symphony of sound:  crickets chirping,  frogs croaking, mosquitoes buzzing and dogs barking.  Lightening bugs were darting near the wood line, flashing their bottoms, hoping to attract a mate.  Bats were swooping overhead, their bodies looking like dark shadows against the waning light as they searched for dinner among a buffet of flying insects. Kit-Kat had sidled up beside me, stretched her body then rubbed against my leg before disappearing into the darkness.  See what I mean?  There's a lot going on out there in the dark...

Let's think about the air.  Is it heavy with humidity?  Or does it offer cooling relief from a hectic day?  Is the wind a gentle breeze? Or do you hear it howling in the treetops? Maybe the wind isn't blowing at all...  

How about the smell?  Is the scent of honeysuckle hanging in the air?  No? Maybe it's the smell of the steaks the neighbor is cooking, making your character dread the leftover pizza in the refrigerator or reminding him/her of how alone they feel...

By taking the time to immerse ourselves into our characters' experiences, our scenes will feel more authentic which will allow our readers to connect with our stories.

A Crock Pot Can Be A Writer's Best Friend

It's Sunday and that means we're one day away from Monday...  That's kinda depressing...  The work week begins again.  If you're like me, your day is something similar to this:  At work by 8:00.  Off by 5:00.  And then, you go to work again - but this time it's at home - laundry, dinner, dishes, kids...  The time between 5:00 and lights out - goes by too fast - and there's not a lot of time left to write.  So, I thought I'd share a Crock Pot Recipe that I found from Fix-It and Forget-It.  Maybe it will help free up a little time for you to work on your story!

Chicken Cordon Bleu

4 boneless, skinless chicken breast halves

1/2 lb. deli-sliced cooked ham

1/2 lb. baby Swiss cheese, sliced

10 3/4 can cream of chicken soup

1 oz. dry stuffing mix, prepared according to box direction

1.  Layer all ingredients in the order they are listed into your slow cooker.

2.  Cover and cook on Low 6-8 hours, or until chicken is tender but not dry.

Happy Eating!  Happy Writing!

Tomato, Tomahto - It's All In Your Perspective (What Makes a Female Character Strong/Weak)

For the past couple of weeks, I have wrestled with the idea of this post.  And as I type this, I'm still questioning myself..  But the thing is, it's been eating at me...

You see, I'm a forty-something woman.  I was just a kid during the 1970's when women were fighting for equal rights.  I remember the controversy, the anger, the demand for equality.  And while I didn't have to protest, I am part of a generation that received the benefits of the movement.  That being said, I've still experienced my fair share of narrowmindedness.  For several years, my family owned a small business.  As co-owner of a marina, it never ceased to amaze me that some of the salesmen would try to talk to my brother instead of me. To get the same respect, I had to "prove" my knowledge.  It was nothing short of frustrating and demeaning.  Being seen as an equal, being respected for my work - these are things that are important to me.

At this point, let me clarify:  

The following isn't intended as an attack on the writer or the writer's work.  I didn't read the novel. In fact, I don't even remember the author's name or the title of the book. I only read the little promotional blurb and it most definitely caught my attention as a well written blurb should.   

So, back to my post...

When I stumbled across a New Adult romance and found that the heroine was a cash strapped college graduate, who in her desperation, decides that she will become a rich man's play thing, I cringed.   What was the point in getting an education, etc. if she was just going to lift her skirt.  I mean, I guess she couldn't meet her "knight in shining armor" as she worked her second job.  Nope.  The college loan payments must have been atrocious - because prostituting herself was the solution. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure there are many women who have made this choice and are good with it.  And as for the story, like I said, I didn't read it - and maybe the heroine had tried to find a second job, maybe she had resigned herself to eating Romen Noodles dinners...  Obviously, the heroine was trying to be honest - I mean, she really wanted to make her payments...  Maybe she should have decided that her credit was just going to have to suffer - at least until a better paying job came along...   But for me-when I read the blurb-I failed to see the romance and I certainly hated seeing a young woman portrayed in such a weak manner.  

It's Just a Story

I totally get that this story was a work of fiction and I'm sure there are readers who loved it. But with so many women and children being sexually exploited, portraying a "pay for sex" agreement as the beginning of a healthy relationship feels all sorts of wrong to me. Yeah, I know - It's just a story and I can lick the red right off a lollipop. 

Maybe It's Me

At some point, I wondered if maybe my feelings were due to my age? I sought the opinions of a younger crowd.  I am the mother of three sons so I presented the scenario to them.  They looked at me as if to say, "Really?"  But being the good mother that I am, I didn't let them off the hook.  Finally, one of them said, "Maybe her bills were really stressing her..."  Another nodded in agreement.  So then I asked, "Would you be good with dating someone who had made this decision?"  They looked at me.  The twenty-one year old said, "Look, just because I can maybe understand doesn't mean I agree... so no, I couldn't see myself dating her."  My seventeen year old said -  "If it was only the one time, then maybe... but that's just dating. I mean, it's not like I'd wife her up."

Uptight?

By now, you might be thinking that I'm a bit uptight and definitely judgemental.  You'd be wrong.  At nineteen, I was a single mother so I know all about making hard choices.  And maybe, that's why the premise of this story bothered me so much.  Because in the real world, the decisions we make follow us and most of the time, women who choose to sell themselves, don't end up with the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.  I was a single mother, working two jobs when I met my Marine.  Twenty four years later, he's still got my back.

Disclaimer:

I realize that there are women who have found themselves between a rock and a hard place, with no where to turn.  Their children need a roof over their heads and food in their bellies.  While I have never found myself in this position, I recognize that some women have.   Because of their circumstances, they may feel as though prostitution is their only option.  I'm certainly not casting judgement on the decisions they have made.

Review of Jack and the Fountain of Youth

Amazon's Book Description:  Jack Ponsi Dileonardo Thomas is eighteen years old. At least, that’s what he tells everyone. He doesn’t like to lie. But he has to, because he celebrated his real eighteenth birthday five centuries ago.

Some people say the Fountain of Youth is a myth. Jack knows better. He drank from the fabled fuente in 1513. Over the five hundred years since, he’s given up believing his life will ever again be normal–and that he’ll ever rediscover the magical spring. But when he learns the Fountain is located on the property of Nessa Owens, Jack takes up the search once more. And when Nessa captures his heart, his quest acquires new urgency.

Caught in the midst of a hurricane, surrounded by centuries-old memories and present day mysteries, Jack must risk all for a future with Nessa.

Will love prove more powerful than the enchanted waters of the Fountain of Youth?

What I Thought:  HL Carpenter is a mother/daughter writing team who mixes a little history, mystery, a tad bit of mythology and some present day romance in Jack and The Fountain of Youth. The authors did a wonderful job creating a tale that captivated my imagination. The story moved at a quick pace. The cast of characters were well developed - and Jack - was divine! Unlike a lot of NA romances, there wasn't any intense sexual situations. Instead, the authors kept the romance sweet - making this suitable for younger ages as well.

Review of The Misadventures of Me and My Uterus

A while back, I received a copy of Laurie WJN's book - The Misadventures of Me and My Uterus.  I had a lot going on at the time promoting my own novel and Misadventures was put in the to be read pile.  

Fast-forward three months and OH MY GOSH - I had the period that wouldn't end.  The frustration was incredible.  And then I remembered Laurie and her book...

Amazon Book Description:  From delivering babies to uterine biopsies, this book shares how being a woman can be tough, but laughter is always the best medicine. Topics ranging from Spring-Loaded Uterus (and other forms of birth control), Nothing says fun like a transvaginal ultrasound, and Ablation – its electric, share the personal struggle of one peri-menopausal woman through the maze of women’s health challenges. With humor and understanding, this book offers insight into the uniquely feminine perspective of women’s health care as you enter menopause. This laugh out loud memoir is relatable to any woman who has ever felt cursed by having a uterus.

What I Thought:  Laurie WJN has shined a light on a subject most of us (women) prefer to ignore.   Going through the "change" is nothing short of challenging.  Laurie candidly shared her experiences.   At times I was laughing out loud - and trust me - the battle going on within my body has been anything but funny.  Still,  I found myself feeling a sort of sisterhood with the author because finally someone had put into words what I was feeling and experiencing.   

If you are dealing with the stress of peri-menopause, then do yourself a favor - get this book! It's like sitting down with a girlfriend who's been through it all and now she's sharing her experience.

Amazon Purchase Link

 Novel Notions is thrilled to welcome 

S.M. Pace, author of Wings of the Butterfly!

YA Fantasy

Date Published: August 15, 2014

 
 

Three nations teeter on the brink of war, and caught in the middle, a brother and sister find themselves surrounded by dangers they never imagined. 

Adopted by the Yurha, Toby still struggles to properly fit in.  Hunting in the forest, he stumbles across a jeweled cuff that attaches to his wrist and won’t come off.  Afraid at first, he is soon thrilled to discover the cuff carries powerful magic.  But as he tries to control it, he realizes the cuff is still linked to its original owner - an owner who will go to cruel lengths to get his magic back.

Miles away, Toby’s twin sister Ora struggles with life in a strange city.  She and family have fled Yois for Nietza, where Ora will not be arrested for possessing magic.  However, Nietza is not the magical paradise Ora had imagined.  Despite her new friends, she can’t feel safe in a country where women are little more than pawns. 

Secrets, brutal murders and war edging ever closer drive both siblings from their safe places.  Failure to stop those who pursue them will mean a fate worse than death. 

                         S. M. Pace

S. M. Pace lives with her husband in the wilds of Virginia, along with a pond full of fish, a turtle and too many squirrels.  When she's not writing, she's wrangling a dozen pre-schoolers, learning a new recipe or reading.

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Website: http://spacewomen/home/

Twitter: @StephMPace

Blog: smpace.com

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Excerpt

Toby worked at the wrist cuff, but it hardly budged.  It had become something like a piece of his arm.

Leaves shuddered overhead.  A pair of squirrels raced over the branches, chittering.  Toby sat alone against the bole of a tree, a half mile or so from the settlement.  No sign of an oversized hawk, but he had a better idea than scanning the branches.  He’d ended up inside the hawk’s mind before.  He thought he could do it again.

He stripped away his leggings and loin cloth and laid them beside him.  Naked, he shivered, despite the unusual heat of the mid-autumn day.  A thrill of fear coursed through him at the other part of his plan.  The memory of pale fur sprouting across his arm stuck hard in Toby’s head.  If it means what I think it means, the thought drifted as Toby steadied his breathing.  He pressed his back against the rough bark and sank into the wrist cuff.    

The wellspring of magic nearly swallowed him.  He tried to imitate what Kyat had done, pushing his awareness away from the crystals, and into the metal.  A different power, with the taste of metal, stung him. 

Blackness swallowed him.  He fought to stay aware.  Everything shifted, spun, and someone else’s mind swept over and around him.  He glimpsed scaled claws and dark feathers.  The hawk.

He watched through the creature’s eyes, and felt what it felt.  Spasms wracked its body. One claw flattened, flexed, the scales melting away to reveal a misshapen foot.  Toby cried out at the pain of even that small success.  Then the foot twitched and turned back into a claw, and with a strangled cry, the hawk took flight.

Toby was thrown back into his body.  He knew the hawk hid somewhere at the north-eastern edge of the pack’s territory, where the hills began to give way to mountains.  He’d also learned something else; the feel of a type of magic he’d never experienced before.  He sent his mind back into the wrist cuff. 

He pushed away the bits of his magic, and other magics he couldn’t name.  In the midst of those, the cuff held a bundle of power that curled and writhed.  Shifting magic. 

To wear fur and run on all fours.  To howl and tumble with his brothers.  To run with the pack during full moon hunts, and take down a deer with his teeth.  To be a wolf, like his family.  To be truly one of them.

Toby willed every ounce of those thoughts into the magic and spread it through his body.

A cramp struck his lower belly and doubled him over, then dropped him to his knees.  His chest tightened and, for a moment, panic seized him, and he wanted to shove the magic away.

He breathed slowly while spasms wracked his body.  The bones in his legs cracked first, shifting, and forcing him to stand awkwardly on his hands and feet.  Then his arms and back twisted.  His face crunched, stretched.  His shoulders popped.  Fur grew, like tiny pins bursting out of his skin.  The whine of an animal spilled from his throat.