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Friday, 25 August 2017

Book Review: Flowers, White Lies by Yvonne Ventresca

BLACK FLOWERS, WHITE LIES
Yvonne Ventresca
Sky Pony Press

Her father died before she was born, but Ella Benton knows they have a supernatural connection. Since her mother discourages these beliefs, Ella keeps her cemetery visits secret. But she may not be the only one with secrets. Ella’s mother might be lying about how Dad died sixteen years ago. New found evidence points to his death in a psychiatric hospital, not as a result of a tragic car accident as her mother always claimed. After a lifetime of just the two of them, Mom suddenly feels like a stranger.

When a handprint much like the one Ella left on her father’s tombstone mysteriously appears on the bathroom mirror, at first she wonders if Dad is warning her of danger as he did once before. If it’s not a warning, could her new too-good-to-be-true boyfriend be responsible for the strange occurrences? Or maybe it’s the grieving building superintendent whose dead daughter strongly resembles Ella? As the unexplained events become more frequent and more sinister, Ella becomes terrified about who—or what—might harm her.

Soon the evidence points to someone else entirely: Ella herself. What if, like her father, she’s suffering from a breakdown? In this second novel from award-winning author Yvonne Ventresca, Ella desperately needs to find answers, no matter how disturbing the truth might be.

This book was every bit of amazing as I hoped it would be. From the first pages where I met Ella and her cemetery visits to her father's grave to the last page where a tangled web of secrets finally unraveled, I was pulled into Ella's world body, mind, and soul. With hints of just enough mystery, this book soon turns thriller as we start to piece together the dangers that Ella experiences -- are they paranormal or not -- I can't say without a spoiler. But I will definitely say that this book does not disappoint. With an ending that hits you with just enough punch, this white knuckled ride does not leave you hanging.

5 stars definitely go to BLACK FLOWERS, WHITE LIES. I am now on the path to a lifelong fandom of Yvonne Ventresca and will be seeking out more of her books.

Wednesday, 4 January 2017

YA Books in a Box Giveaway

January 4 - January 25

You could win one of these 3 AMAZING books sets, plus the cool necklace that coordinates with one of the books in the set!!

Each Week, we'll showcase the "Books In a Box".

Giveaway runs between January 4 through January 25th.

Drawing for all three boxes will be on January 26th.

The "Books in a Box Giveway" is sponsored by these FAB authors:

Kristin D. Van Risseghem, Rhonda Sermon, CK Dawn, D. L. Armillei, Joanne Macgregor, GK DeRosa, C.E. Wilson, Felisha Antonette, Melanie McFarlane, Lydia Sherrer, Katherine Bogle and Nicole Zoltack

To enter, click on the Gleam giveaway below!!

CONTEST (“CONTEST”) ADMINISTERED BY Kristin D. Van Risseghem. (“ADMINISTRATOR”). CONTEST BEGINS ON January 4, 2017 AT 12:00AM AND ENDS ON January 25, 2017 AT 11:59:59PM. (“CONTEST PERIOD”). **CENTRAL TIME US ** NO PURCHASE NECESSARY TO ENTER OR WIN. ONLY AN EMAIL ADDRESS [Blog comment/Twitter follow/Facebook Visit] is required. This email address will be distributed to the following authors: Kristin D. Van Risseghem, Rhonda Sermon, CK Dawn, D. L. Armillei, Joanne Macgregor, GK DeRosa, C.E. Wilson, Felisha Antonette, Melanie McFarlane, Lydia Sherrer, Katherine Bogle and Nicole Zoltack. By participating, entrants agree to be bound by these Official Rules and the decisions of the Administrator. Void where prohibited by law. Contest is open to legal residents of the UNITED STATES.

Monday, 2 January 2017

How I Found An Agent: LOST GIRLS by Merrie Destefano

Lost Girls by Merrie Destefano

Publication Date: January 3, 2017

Publisher: Entangled Teen

Fight Club meets Black Swan—Rachel wakes up in a ditch to find she doesn’t remember the last year of her life, and that everything—including herself—is vastly different than she remembers.

Yesterday, Rachel went to sleep listening to Taylor Swift, curled up in her grammy’s quilt, worrying about geometry. Today, she woke up in a ditch, bloodied, bruised, and missing a year of her life.

She doesn’t recognize the person she’s become: she’s popular. She wears nothing but black.

Black to cover the blood.

And she can fight.

Tell no one.

She’s not the only girl to go missing within the last year…but she’s the only girl to come back. She desperately wants to unravel what happened to her, to try and recover the rest of the Lost Girls.

But the more she discovers, the more her memories return. And as much as her new life scares her, it calls to her. Seductively. The good girl gone bad, sex, drugs, and raves, and something darker…something she still craves—the rush of the fight, the thrill of the win—something she can’t resist, that might still get her killed…

The only rule is: There are no rules.

Amazon | B&N | iBooks | Kobo

Finding the Right Cheerleader for Your Book

By Merrie Destefano

Writing a book is hard. It takes a long time and there seems to be a shortage of the right words; meanwhile, characters misbehave and plots meander. By the time the book is done—really done, edited two or three times until it almost sparkles—it needs to find a home somewhere else. It needs to get out of my computer and find a real home. A publishing home. An editor who will fall in love with it, nurture it, help it grow into a Real Book.

But honestly, I've never had much success by contacting an editor on my own. (Okay, there was that ONE time when I did it by myself and got a three-book deal with a big publisher, but those books never made it all the way to publication. Not my fault, but it's a long story and I digress...) Anyway, to me, the best and only way to go the traditional publishing route is to have an agent to represent me.

Alas, there have been times during this publishing journey when I've found myself all alone, without an agent. It can happen when you switch markets or genres. It can happen if your agent decides to quit being an agent. It can just happen. So, there was this time a few years ago when I had a new manuscript written, but no one to submit it to an editor.

I had to do what every new author does and what every experienced, published author does. I had to research agents and agencies, looking for someone that I thought might like my work enough to represent it. I searched Publisher's Marketplace, I followed agents on Twitter, I read agent interviews and I talked to my published friends about their agents.

In the midst of all this, while I was querying and getting rejections, I asked one of my dear friends, K.C. Alexander (author of Necrotech) about the agency that represented her at that time, the Bradford Literary Agency. I loved that agency and they represented the type of work I write. But then, discouragement set in. I confessed to Kace at a Romance Writers conference that I didn't think I was going to sub to them, even though I really wanted to and even though K.C. had already put in a good word for me and even though they were waiting for my submission.

At that point, I'd gotten so discouraged that I didn't want another rejection.

Enter my favorite mantra: Good friends don't let you quit. Even when you want to. Even when you think curling in a ball and eating chocolate is the best idea you've ever had. So Kace refused to let me quit and told me I had to sub to the agency that repped her. Somehow, she convinced me. Despite my fear and worry and inner-doubt, I listened to the confident voice of my friend.

CURRENTLY A FULL-TIME NOVELIST and magazine editor, Merrie Destefano’s next novel, LOST GIRLS, releases on January 3, 2017. Her other novels include AFTERLIFE and FEAST, both published by HarperCollins, and FATHOM, which was self-published. The editor of Victorian Homes magazine, she has also been the editor of American Farmhouse Style, Vintage Gardens, and Zombies magazine, and was the founding editor of Cottages & Bungalows magazine.

With 20 years experience in publishing, she worked for a variety of publishing/broadcasting companies that include Focus on the Family, The Word For Today, and PJS Publications (now Primedia). Besides editing and writing, her background includes print buying, writing/producing radio promos, directing photo shoots, developing new products, writing jacket copy for books, creating sales media packets and organizing direct mail campaigns.

Born in the Midwest, she currently lives in Southern California with her husband, two German shepherds, a Siamese cat and the occasional wandering possum. Her favorite hobbies are reading speculative fiction and watching old Star Trek episodes, and her incurable addiction is writing. She loves to camp in the mountains, walk on the beach, watch old movies, listen to alternative music—although rarely all at the same time.

Blog Tour: All prizes listed below will be given to one prize winner.

Prizes listed are for a US winner only; if an International winner is chosen, the prize will be a $50 Amazon gift card.

· 1 - Kindle Fire Tablet, black: 7" Display, Wi-Fi, 8 GB, 1.3 GHz quad-core processor, with the Alexa cloud-based voice service—just press and ask.

· 1 - digital Kindle copy of LOST GIRLS

· 1 - Pack of 14 vintage-style Swan Lake postcards

· 1 - pr. Black Swan earrings, handmade by author

· 1 - "Always" temporary tattoo

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Friday, 9 December 2016

SUMMONER RISING Cover Reveal!

Today Melanie McFarlane and Month9Books are revealing the cover and first chapter for SUMMONER RISING, which releases March 28, 2017! Check out the gorgeous cover and enter to be one of the first readers to receive a eGalley!!

A quick note from the author:

After writing my YA debut, There Once Were Stars, I never imagined that another full story idea would come to me so quick. But sure enough, in Spring of 2015 I finished playing a round of Final Fantasy (old school) and the thought came to me of creating a character who could summon demons, like the characters in FF can do in battles. From there I created my main character, an indie-outcast kind of girl, who listened to bands like Nirvana and Small Brown Bike (like I did in college), and always want to fit in but never really felt like part of the gang. I made her broken and dark, not naive and protected like Natalia from There Once Were Stars to ensure they were nothing alike and so they would face different challenges. From here, Dacie was born - a complicated girl who wants to be normal but doesn't want to conform. A girl with ghosts in her closet, demons under her bed, and an inner power so strong she's going to have to learn to control it or suffer the consequences. Dacie is a combination of who I was and who I wanted to be when I was a teenager. And we all have to deal with our demons at some point.

On to the reveal!

Title: SUMMONER RISING

Author: Melanie McFarlane

Pub. Date: March 28, 2017

Publisher: Month9Books

Format: Paperback, eBook

Pages: 300

Find it: Goodreads | Amazon | B&N | TBD

Excerpt from, The Book of Summoning:

Law One: A summoner is responsible for all creatures it lets through from the netherworld.

Dacie Cantar wishes someone had explained the Laws of Summoning to her before she watched a shadowy creature crawl out of a painting at the local arcade. At least it explains the strange things she's witnessed since moving in with her great-aunt, after her mother’s untimely death. But who wants to be followed by shadows the rest of their life? Add that to being stalked by a strange boy at school, who just might be her Tovaros (aka soulmate), it’s about all Dacie can handle in her new life.

As she nears her seventeenth birthday, will she be ready for her new responsibilities, or will the shadows that stalked her mother until her death, finally consume Dacie, too? And then there’s Law Two…

Excerpt

Chapter One

Broken. That’s how I feel inside. It’s as if something ripped out part of me and won’t give it back. That’s what death does to you when it touches those you love; it’s not rocket science, but it’s definitely not what I thought it would be like. In movies it is cold, pale, and filled with sadness and longing, or sometimes so predictable and eye roll worthy with its Hollywood special effects. But the death I’ve experienced has been more horrifyingly real; filled with personal loss, haunting dreams, and shadows that run around in the night.

The therapist they assigned me back in California said I needed to move forward. Keep on, keeping on. As clichéd as it was, I agreed. I’d spent most my life fighting to thrive, practically raising myself. Now wasn’t the time to give up. Death was inevitable; if I let the fear of it hold me back, I might as well roll over and die right now. Survival meant I had to push those feelings deep down inside and forget they were there.

“Daciana!”

Great Aunt Katya’s voice calls from the hallway while I stand in front of the bathroom mirror, playing with concealer to cover the dark circles under my eyes. Sleep doesn’t come easy when you’re trying to be someone new.

She appears behind me in the mirror, her long white hair a contrast to my dark locks. “Are you sure you won’t change your mind?” Her thick accent is still a novelty to me.

Katya has spent the entire summer trying to convince me that I’d be better off stuck here with her, getting homeschooled like everyone else does in our family, back in Romania. I’m not against it; I’d just like to try to fit in first.

I shake my head and mimic a cheer. “Go Greystone High!” My knotted bracelets slip from my wrist, bumping against the rolled up sleeve of my plaid button-up shirt, and my chipped black nail polish is the opposite of anything bright and cheery. I’m not about to give up my first chance to have a different life.

Katya throws her head back, letting her multi-hooped earrings clink against each other, mingling in the air along with her laugh. She dresses like a bohemian, but flashes way too much cleavage. She wears more bracelets than I do, and a lot more rings. All her jewelry looks like it was forged by hand in one way or another, and I’m sure if I ask there’s a story behind it all. She looks back down and shakes her head at me with a smirk across her burgundy painted lips. She looks amazing for sixty-five.

“Don’t be late your first day.” She pats my shoulder before leaving. In her reflection I see a shadow chasing after her, along the cracks of the old wooden floor. My heart jumps and I spin around, but both of them are gone. I run to the door and peek around the corner, but Katya is alone as she disappears down the creaky old stairs.

I sigh and return to the bathroom to grab my backpack, glancing in the mirror one last time. My dark brown eyes stare back at me; when will they stop playing tricks on me? This isn’t the first shadow I’ve seen dashing about, but every time I try to chase after them, there’s nothing there. I’m obviously losing my mind.

Downstairs, I pop a waffle in the toaster and stare out the patio doors at the trees that line the back of our yard; but I’m not really watching the trees; I’m trying to convince my nerves that this school will be like every other new school I’ve attended my entire life. Only this time I don’t have my mother to send me off in the morning.

I snap out of my thoughts as the toaster pops.

Outside, my little four door hatchback sits in wait. Katya found it for sale at the side of the road and bought it for me my first day here. Its navy blue paint is peeling, and there’s a bumper sticker that says My Kid is a Greystone Grad, but now that I’m going to be a student there I may as well leave it. Plus I’ve never had my own car before; the freedom is exhilarating.

As I pull up to Greystone High I realize the concept of being normal is harder to carry out in person. The stone exterior of the school is as old as the rest of this coastal town; its interior was modern twenty years ago with its classic cement block walls and color themed lockers. The students are familiar with one another, as if they all grew up here in Greystone, Maine.

Most of them turn their heads as I walk down the hall, not even hiding their curiosity. As soon as I find my locker I duck my head inside and finally breathe. I expected things to be different. I should’ve known a new location wouldn’t change anything; being different is always the same, no matter where you go.

“You're new,” a boy’s voice comes from the locker next to mine.

I take a deep breath and grab my sketchbook with trembling hands, from my bag. "Sure am," I say turning, and walking away.

I hear his footsteps run after me. “Hey, I’m Brennan. Where'd you move from?”

“Hey,” I mimic him. “That's pretty personal when you don't even know my name.”

His eyes grow wide and a twinge of guilt pokes me in the gut. “I—,” Brennan stammers.

“California.”

He looks confused. “That’s your name?”

“You asked where I moved from. It's California. I’m Dacie.”

A smile jumps across his face showing small dimples on either side of his mouth. He’s kind of cute with his short brown hair and sparkly blue eyes, that match his jersey with the Greystone High logo; that is if you like that sort of jock look. It’s never been my thing, not like I’m an expert or anything. I’ve never dated anyone before. Not a hand held, first kiss, or grope. But hey, nothing screams normal like Mr. Football standing in front of me.

“Why would you move here?” he asks, still flashing that all-American smile.

There’s a question I’m not ready to answer. “Sorry, I-uh, have to go. I’m going to be late for Art class.”

“Come find me and my friends at lunch!” Brennan calls out as he backs into a group of girls who start squealing and hitting him with their books. I can’t help but smile.

I turn toward my classroom, but I’m just as clumsy as Brennan. As I turn around I run smack into someone. My sketchbook falls to the floor, scattering my drawings everywhere. I look up and see I’m leaning against the chest of a tall boy.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

He kneels down to pick up my papers and I drop to the floor, grabbing them away from him. One of my bracelets falls off on the floor and he picks it up.

“It was my fault,” I say, stuffing them back in my book.

We both stand up at the same time, only inches apart, and so close I can see his chest move with every breath. I don’t think I’ve ever had this much contact with a boy before.

“No harm done.” He gives me a crooked smile and, is that an accent I hear? What is it? European? He holds the bracelet out to me, rousing me from my thoughts.

I stare at him for a moment. His hair is a little longer than I like, but it suits him as it falls into his eyes. What are they: green with flecks of brown and yellow like a starburst from his pupil? His jaw line has a slight shade of stubble on top of his tanned skin. He’s practically poetic; I finally exhale and can feel my face warm up from thinking about him.

“Thanks.” I grab the bracelet diverting all attention from my face.

“Shall we enter class?” Shall? Who says shall?

“Yes, please,” I say raising an eyebrow. The green hues in his eyes flicker for a moment with a hint of amusement. Is he laughing at me?

I put my head down and scoot past him, brushing my arm against his. My body tingles at the sensation of his skin. Enough, Dacie! I hurry to the first empty desk I see, which is close to the back; usually I chose a seat in the front row but right now my face is so flushed I need to hide.

But the boy follows and takes a seat behind me. I shift in my plastic seat and focus on the front of the room, but the hair on my neck raises, as if someone’s watching me.

My teacher is an older woman with curls so tight they create the impression of dreads around her freckled face. Her clothes are an odd assembly of ballet flats with gaucho slacks, topped with a frilly apron splattered in paint. She gives us a short lecture then has us begin working on pointillism. I check out some Escher and decide to sketch my hand. It’s not copying if I draw my own, right?

I struggle to make my fingers look real. They come out more sausage-like than human, which makes me frown. No matter how hard I try, I can’t get it right, and I’m not about to reference my Escher print again or I might as well just copy it. Half way through class I give up and look around; everyone else is working diligently on their pictures.

I peek over my shoulder to see what the boy is doing. I should have asked him his name. He’s sitting against the back of his chair with his arms crossed, staring at me. I spin back around, reaching for my pencil in an attempt to look busy and knock it off my desk. I scramble to grab it before it falls, but it hits the floor and rolls to the back of the class.

I turn my head after the pencil, and hang half way out of my desk to catch it. My fingers brush against the floor and a dark black boot stops it in the middle of the aisle. I follow the boot all the way up to the boy’s face. He lets a small smirk spread across his mouth. Wow, he’s fast.

I force a smile. “Thank you.” I sit up straight in my desk and spin around.

He leans over and grabs the pencil. “Anytime.” He sweeps his hair from his eyes and holds it out to me.

I get out of my desk and walk over to him. “Are you already done the project?” He nods. I look down at his drawing. What the—he’s drawn a picture of me as I was drawing. Even worse, it’s good, really good. My cheeks flash hot with irritation; I’m not sure if it’s from the invasion of privacy or pure jealousy. I manage to twist my face from a glower to a frown: “We were supposed to do pointillism.”

He keeps staring at me. “I saw something I liked more.”

A sharp pain stabs my gut and my face feels even hotter than it did a second ago. “Whatever,” I say as I grab my pencil and hurry to my desk.

Thankfully he does not attempt to talk to me the rest of class. When the bell rings he pauses at my desk still holding the drawing in his hand. I grab my things and leave as quickly as I can. I’m not interested in any explanations. Who does he think he is?

My next class is History, where I get a long-winded account of the colonization of Maine starting back in the 1600s. Lucky me, we’re going to move through the centuries. After that it’s Math and then finally lunch.

I throw my books in my locker and head for the cafeteria. I manage to find a sandwich and an apple that look edible but when I turn to look for a seat, I see Brennan standing up waving at me. I force a smile and wave back; pretending to be normal can’t be that hard, right? He’s sitting with another boy and two girls. The boy smiles at me and the girls just stare.

“Hey everyone, this is Dacie,” Brennan says.

I meet Zack, Sophie, and Chantal. Everyone has their perfectly normal names and is coupled up, in the order they are seated. They all wear smiles except for Chantal, who stares me down. I’m pretty sure she’s interested in Brennan, the way she keeps her eyes glued to him, but he seems oblivious as he sits next to her.

“Dacie moved here from California,” Brennan says, flashing me another one of his full face smiles.

Sophie flicks her long blond hair over her shoulder and laughs. “Ewww, why would you move here? It’s always so cloudy.”

“Long story,” I say, taking a bite of my sandwich.

Chantal rolls her eyes. “It’s so boring here, but you’re too new to know.”

I swallow my ham and cheese and shrug. “I’ve been here all summer.”

Brennan’s eyes light up. “Really? Where’ve you been hiding?”

“I live with my aunt up at the end of Marlborough Lane.”

“Oh my god,” Chantal says. Her mouth hangs open with a smile playing at the edge. “You’re her.”

Sophie shoots her a dirty look. “Shhh.” Chantal stares down at her lunch.

I raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean ‘her’?”

Sophie’s cheeks turn red. “We heard, you know, about your mom.”

My throat is suddenly dry and I have to force down my next swallow. “So everyone knows?”

“It is a small town,” Chantal says, staring at me.

“Okay, hold on everyone. Dacie, we just mean we didn’t know you’ve been here all this time. I would have come by to meet you.” He flashes me one of his full face smiles.

Right. Come meet the freak. I put my half eaten sandwich down on my tray and stand up. My chair scrapes against the floor, echoing in the cafeteria. It seems everyone around us has gone silent to listen in on our conversation.

“Don’t go,” Brennan says. The rest of the table looks away, except for Chantal.

“Sorry.” She doesn’t seem sincere.

“It’s fine. I just need some air.”

I take my tray and deposit it near the exit as I leave the cafeteria. As I go to push the doors open a black streak flies out of the corner of my eye. I know better, but still run after it. Nothing is there—argh!

The double doors to the cafeteria bang closed behind me as my frustration builds. I walk to a quiet corner and lean my back against the wall as I exhale. I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath, again. Some girls giggle as they pass by. This normal thing sucks.

I close my eyes and think about my mom. Six months wasn’t long enough to numb the pain. The mention of her, and the fact everyone knows the story, stings like it did when I left the west coast. Now I want nothing more than to go back there. What’s the point of being here now if I can’t escape the past?

“You alright?” a familiar, accented voice comes from next to me.

I startle, opening my eyes and see the boy from art class. “I’m fine.”

I push myself from the wall and continue down the hallway to the doors outside. As I reach the exit, I turn and see him staring at me as I walk away. My body shivers from the cool fall air.

When the bell rings, I go back inside, making a b-line for my locker. A slip of white paper hangs halfway out of it. I pull it out and right away recognize it: it’s the picture of me from art class, but the boy who drew it is gone.

I stomp through the hallway, determined to find him but he’s nowhere to be seen. Brennan sees me and waves, but lowers his hand when I shoot him a glare. I ignore him and continue down the hallway. The second bell rings for classes and the hallway empties but I am too worked up to stay. I crumple up the paper and throw it in my backpack. Again I catch a black streak in the corner of my eye. I really need to get more sleep.

Melanie McFarlane is a passionate writer of other-wordly adventures, a little excitable, and a little quirky. Whether it’s uncovering the corruption of the future, or traveling to other worlds to save the universe, she jumps in with both hands on her keyboard. Though she can be found obsessing over zombies and orcs from time to time, Melanie has focused her powers on her YA debut There Once Were Stars, and her YA urban fantasy Summoner Rising.

She lives with her husband and two daughters in the Land of Living Skies.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram | Goodreads

3 winners will receive and eGalley of SUMMONER RISING, International.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Thursday, 7 April 2016

Book Review: LIFE IN THE LUCKY ZONE by Patricia B. Tighe

Life in the Lucky Zone (The Zone #2)

by Patricia B. Tighe

Publication Date: April 5, 2016

Publisher: Swoon Romance

Seventeen-year-old Lindsey Taylor has been living a charmed life—always the lead in school plays, possessor of a healthy entourage and a hot boyfriend. But halfway through her junior year, the unthinkable happens. Her boyfriend dumps her. She screws up her audition for the spring play. And to top it all off, her theater teacher wants her to run lines with Trey Berger, a gamer guy who irritates her practically every time he opens his mouth. Lindsey needs to find some better luck and quick.

Trey Berger can barely tolerate Lindsey Taylor. It’s bad enough that their best friends are dating and he has to see Lindsey at group hangouts. Now they have to rehearse together. Berger would rather do just about anything else, even chill with his grandmother, whose dementia has forced her to move in with his family.

But as the semester continues, Berger discovers there’s more to Lindsey than the drama queen

persona she puts on for everyone else’s benefit. And the person behind the mask might be someone he cares about. A lot. So what exactly is he going to do about it?

And while Lindsey desperately tries to change her luck and heal from the breakup, she slowly realizes Berger has become her best friend. This video-game-playing boy makes her laugh. And holds her when she cries. Could he possibly become something more?

I absolutely adored this book! It's just as good as it's predecessor, Life in the No-Dating Zone. One would think, how could Tighe carry on the sweet story of Claire and Gray... by carrying on a contemporary romance between their best buddies, Lindsey & Berger.

That's right - total polar opposites, Lindsey (popular girl) and Berger (gamer boy). But this isn't your stereotypical opposites attract -- I love how Tighe sucks us in with Lindsey recovering from her recent breakup (oh come on, no one liked him) and Berger's hidden passion for drama club. When Berger has a chance at a part and Lindsey is made to tutor him, so begin the sparks...

Okay, so not quite that easy, but to find out more you'll have to read this for yourself!!

I definitely give Life in the Lucky Zone 5 stars.

Don't miss out!!

The mother of two grown sons, Patricia B. Tighe lives in West Texas with her husband and two dogs. She eats too much pizza, drinks too much coffee, and watches way too much NFL football. On the bright side, she loves to read and write young adult fiction. Especially if there’s kissing involved.

· One (1) winner will receive a $10 Amazon Gift Card and a digital copy of Life in the Lucky Zone by Patricia B. Tighe (INT)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Wednesday, 6 April 2016

Book Review: FEAR MY MORTALITY by Everly Frost #month9squad

Fear My Mortality by Everly Frost

Publication Date: April 5, 2016

Publisher: Month9Books

In a world where people are invulnerable to illness and death, with lives spanning hundreds of years, a sixteen-year-old becomes witness to the impossible – her brother’s failure to regenerate after death after which she suspects that she too may be mortal.

Oh, where do I start. I was instantly sucked in from the first paragraph (you can read it on Amazon = no spoilers here). I mean, seriously, a kid gets hit by a car an no one really cares. In fact, even his own mother treats it like an inconvenience -- Uh, hello, son I'm gonna be late for work!

In the land of immortality first death is just a pain in the butt.

From there I was taken on a roller coaster ride of emotions. As Ava preps for her Implosion (a coming of age tradition where your parents *ahem* help you achieve first death) no one empathizes with her discomfort. I seriously felt for her, feeling antsier the closer the event came. And then just when I think things can't get more interesting...wham...what happens at Implosion? Well, I can't tell you, but I will say you'll never see it coming...

Fear My Mortality will keep you at the edge of your seat, with page turning excitement, and twists and turns you never saw coming. Ava is the perfect heroine, both vulnerable and caring, which makes her that much more important. Michael is the golden boy from school, driven by purpose and duty.

A 5 star fantastic YA read, I can't wait to read the sequel!

And don't worry, there's a little bit of romance for those of you interested...

Everly Frost wrote her first story when she was nine. She grew up in a country town, lived for a little while in Japan, and worked for several years in Canberra, Australia's capital city. Now, Everly lives in Brisbane, Australia, with her husband and two children. She doesn't speak Japanese so often anymore, has left the cold Canberra winters behind, but has never stopped writing.

Website |Twitter | Facebook| Goodreads

· Five (5) winners will receive a digital copy of Fear My Mortality by Everly Frost (INT)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Monday, 21 March 2016

YA Scavenger Hunt: Spring 2016 Announcement #YASH

SAVE THE DATE!!

March 29th – April 3rd, 2016

It’s the YA Scavenger Hunt Spring 2016!

I am so excited to be a part of #YASH (aka YA Scavenger Hunt). There are 20 authors assigned to each team by color. There are nine teams total this round! Check me out on TEAM TEAL!! Woohoo!

Check out the teams below to see which teams your favorite authors will be on and what their featured book will be. Remember - enter each teams hunt to be eligible to win over 180 books!! Also, each author's host page may hold a separate giveaway.

Oh the humanity!!

It’s getting close folks!