SnoopyDoo's Book Reviews

Well there is not much to say abut me. I love coffee and books and if I can drink a fresh hot coffee while reading even better:)

I started to review a couple years ago and I still loving it. I love the book community and met many awesome people along the way. I'm looking forward to connect to even more of you awesome people out there and of course continue to discover more great books.

You can also find me on Goodreads 

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Reading progress update: I've read 117 out of 341 pages.

The Prophecy (A Titan Novel) (Volume 4) - Jennifer L. Armentrout

ooohhh so many things are happening :D 
Image result for excited gif

My Day of Doom

As most of you know I had some oral surgeries a couple months back. 

Well its time for the third and hopefully last one on Wednesday :(  This one will be the biggest one, but hopefully the last as I said. 

That being said I'm not sure how much I will be online starting Wednesday, I may be lurking to take my mind of the pain but I probably wont be posting much . Everything that has to go live is already scheduled ], even my wrap-up for June :/ 

I'm hoping for a fast recovery and fast return but one never knows.  The first time I had a terrible reaction to the pain meds . The second time they gave me nothing and I had to take ibuprofen and Tylenol, which didn't do much and I was in a lot of pain, I'm hoping the third time is a charm and we can find a middle ground.

On the bright site , I should be done after this and maybe even lose a couple pounds , since I wont be eating much or semi solids for at least two weeks . 


In any case I hope it goes by fast since I really love food and hate pain :P 
I'm a baby when it comes to anything relates to teeth or mouth/facial pain. 

I be back soon and will miss you guys for the time being :) 



Blog Tour: Bound by Jennifer Dean with Excerpt and Giveaway

Today’s stop is for Jennifer Dean's Bound. We will have info about the book and author, and a great excerpt from the book, plus a great giveaway. Make sure to check everything out and enter the giveaway.

Happy Reading :)

When fate leads Emma Morgan back to her small hometown of Washington, she learns that the life she knew three years ago has changed once she meets the charmingly, mysterious Liam Alexander. But when her brother Sean, voices his disapproval, Emma finds her loyalty in the way of her newfound curiosity of the youngest Alexander. Only the more she tries to avoid Liam the more she finds him in her constant company.

A risk that leads down a dangerous path once Emma begins to discover a secret about the Alexanders that no human should ever know.

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I could feel the worry slithering up my veins like a serpent as Sean sauntered forward. Liam immediately straightened with a few steps away from me. I couldn’t blame him. It was like getting out of the way of a raging bull. He refused to take his eyes off my brother. I sighed with pursed lips and squinted eyes. I had become confused and curious in the same moment. I had never seen Sean like this, even in the heat of argument with my dad. It was almost like he had blinded me with the fury that radiated off of him. When he was only feet away, I could feel the scramble of nerves in my stomach that left a chill through my body. Something I had never known around Sean. “Where do you want to go for your birthday tonight?” he asked. My eyes widened with surprise. It was his tone. What I had expected to be enraged sounded slightly saddened with the randomness of his question, like he had just gotten bad news. But what did I expect? I didn’t know. Maybe some form of anger to lash out through yelling. “Um . . .” I paused to smile at an idea. “Well, how about Burger King?” I said. I found humor in the joke, but I could tell he didn’t. By the way he shifted his gaze to the ground I didn’t know if he even heard me. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Liam said. When he spoke, I turned my head back to follow his lead. I smiled, but the feeling never traveled to my eyes. They were cautiously aware of Sean behind me. “Yeah,” I said. “See ya tomorrow.” I turned back to Sean who still hadn’t answered. His gaze was still on the ground. In fact he hadn’t moved at all. “Oh, Emma,” Liam said. When I turned back to my name, I realized Liam hadn’t left like I had thought. Well, he had moved so that he was farther away, but he still stood waiting for my attention. “Happy birthday.” I smiled without my control. I just couldn’t resist how warm it made me feel to hear him say that. It was like a voice I had known my whole life. “Thanks,” I said. He nodded before looking over my shoulder toward Sean. “Emma!” I turned back to the annoyed tone, feeling the grasp of Sean’s hands on each of my shoulders. I could see from the corner of my eye that Liam had moved out to my left side. He fidgeted slightly as if he wanted to intervene, but knew he shouldn’t. I was somewhat grateful when I watched him finally turn and leave. I didn’t need some embarrassing fight to cause a scene in the hallway. “What?” I asked. I held an annoyance in my voice now. It wasn’t like Sean to be so aggressive with me. He had even alarmed a passing freshman. It wasn’t an abusive way, but it was still out of character. Of course despite the shocking tactic, it worked. He held my attention again. But when he dropped my shoulder, he shifted his gaze to the floor across the hall. Suddenly I was in need of his attention. “Sean?” I said. My eyes widened in a waiting response until my impatience pushed through. “Hello!” I raised my voice while I shoved his shoulder. Even though my push carried a more than playful touch, he still didn’t budge. I didn’t affect him at all. His focus almost looked like he was listening to some radio, a radio that had just turned off. It was just plain luck that he looked up at me now. “Well, it’s nice to finally have your attention,” I said. “Sorry,” he said. His apology carried a variety of layers. “What’s wrong with you?” His golden honey eyes dropped away from me as if he was trying to avoid my eye contact, like there was something he didn’t want me to see or focus on. “I’m just in a bad mood, Emma.” I pursed my lips. “I noticed,” I said. I watched as he bent down to grab my backpack, which I had dropped in my worry. “Thanks.” As we began walking, I continued to watch him. He started to regain some of the charm that I had always known. “So are you going to tell me or what?” “Well, how about Frank’s? Italian was always a favorite of yours.” I narrowed my eyes in time to watch him grin. He knew very well that he had jumped conversations. But I had actually been thinking of Frank’s, so I couldn’t resist the offer. “All right,” I said, although even as I said the word I didn’t agree with it. Sean was anything but all right. The ride home was worse than the lockers. I had kept the radio off in case Sean decided to spill anything. But instead the ride was just filled with silence, a silence that carried an awkward filter in the air of my Jetta. As I contemplated whether I should drive on or pull off onto my uncle’s street, I saw his head turn out of the corner of my eye. “Can you just drop me off at Uncle Greg’s?” he requested. “Sure,” I said. I looked back tilting my lips inward and letting out a small sigh as I turned onto my uncle’s street. My mind felt like a war zone with all the negative thoughts hitting me. When he said drop off, I knew those were usually exclusive with solitude. As in, not including me. When I pulled into the drive, I focused on the green Jeep Wrangler parked to the left of the garage. It was my uncle’s old Jeep that he had passed down to Sean after he bought his new F-150 truck. And now it was the only thing I could manage to stare at to avoid looking back at Sean. “I’ll pick you up around seven,” he said. My head turned to look at him with raised eyebrows. “Are we still going?” I asked. “Of course,” he said. He grinned, making half of my worry melt. I had begun to assume the atmosphere change had dissolved the chances of going to dinner. Maybe I was just anticipating him cancelling because of his mood. But in fact he waited for me to acknowledge that he had meant his words before he swiftly opened and shut the car door behind him. It seemed like he had barely shut the door when I heard the distinct slam. I waited for him to walk inside before I pulled out of the drive. As I drove toward my house, I was still carrying the other half of worry that had yet to dissolve. And funny enough, the feeling grew as I looked in my rearview mirror toward the new scrapbook in my backseat. I showered two hours early because I needed to relax the new tension in my shoulders. I wasted time choosing a new red blouse and playing with the new kindle that my uncle had bought me for my birthday. With now nearly five minutes before seven, I placed my copy of The Scarlet Letter on the nightstand. I knew there wouldn’t be enough time to start the fourth chapter even though I contemplated using the time. Instead I grabbed my shoes in the corner before placing my jacket on my arms and swinging my purse over my shoulder, dropping my new camera inside as I hit the lights. As I began walking down the hall thinking, I wish he was already here, I heard a mild honk from outside. It was like he almost knew. I caught a glimpse from my dad who had narrowed his eyes with slight annoyance to the sound. As if somehow it inconvenienced him and the football game he was watching with an abnormally loud volume. “’Night, Dad,” I said. He grinned as he took the time to decide whether he would approve or deny my outfit. Luckily, I had gone with some dark washed jeans and a blouse that covered enough skin. I didn’t consider it too revealing. But you never know with fathers. “Be careful,” he said. It was a habit he had gotten used to saying once I started leaving the house on my own. “I’ll have Sean with me,” I said. He straightened his lips inward with the half roll of his eyes as he nodded with the silent words I stand by what I said. I hated that look because it was that of a father who didn’t trust my judgment. It was as if I was heading out on a date with a boy covered in tattoos and facial piercings who drove a motorcycle. I turned my neck to the left toward the kitchen. “’Night, Mom,” I said. She popped her head around with a genuine smile. At least until she saw the absence of Sean. “Oh, I asked him to just honk when he got here. Sorry,” I said. Yes, it was a lie, but the drooped cheeks and disappointment that carried in her eyes made me want to keep her from any more worry. If Sean wanted to keep his worries a secret from me, then I was going to still do what I could to keep them from anyone else. “Oh, okay. Well you two have fun,” she said. She nodded with a smile that tried to come across as understanding, though I could see the small disappointment lingered in her eyes. When I shut the front door behind me, I could only see the head beams of the Jeep. Not being able to see Sean and whatever mood he held caused my feet to dawdle. When I eventually opened the door, my eyes were looking down at the floorboards. It wasn’t until I had shut the door with my legs inside that I finally looked over to Sean. But there he was with the large grin I knew, the one that was always present with my Sean. That’s how I thought of it now. Furious Sean and my Sean. The one who I had grown up with. “Ready?” he asked. I nodded. “Feeling better?” I was trying to test the waters. “Yeah, sorry about that,” he said. “I almost thought you weren’t going to show,” I said. Sure my Sean would never do that, but who knew if furious Sean would bail on plans. “I’m sorry, Em. I didn’t mean to ruin your birthday by being moody.” I gazed into the brightness of his golden eyes before shrugging with a small grin. He hadn’t exactly ruined my birthday, but he hadn’t made the last few hours very pleasant either. “I guess even heroes have their days,” I said. “Yeah, we’re bound to slip now and then,” he said. How strange it was to look over and find all his teeth clenched as his nose wrinkled. Oddly enough, he still pulled off a charming expression. His emotions were already wearing me out. I watched as he pushed different pre-selected stations before stopping on a song to his liking. It was a George Strait song. My eyes shifted from his lifted finger to his absentminded gaze on the road ahead. Really? His eyes gazed to the side as if he had heard my thought. But it wasn’t enough to call his attention. Instead I could hear the barely audible sound of lyrics that came from his lips. The silence forced my impatience to slowly surface. Well, maybe a little faster than I thought. “Well, what was the problem?” Luckily my tone was still easy with my intention of not meaning to be rude. It was obviously something bad enough for him to show his temper, so I didn’t want to be too pushy. Sean usually had a good way of keeping calm, making the big things seem small. It was when he couldn’t that I knew it was a problem. He looked at me as if he thought the subject was already over and done. I had not noticed we were already in the parking lot of Frank’s, but I had never taken my eyes from his face. As I was still questioning how we had reached the parking lot so fast, he was already turning the engine off and opening his door. I was waiting, now getting a little more impatient for his response, as I met him near the hood of the Jeep. In his eyes, there seemed to be hesitation, but he sensed my building irritation. That was when I remembered the rumor Becca had told me at lunch. “Does this have to do with Lillian Edwards becoming top of your class?” I asked before following him toward the front door. I placed my hands into my pockets to gain some warmth back into my fingers. Sean looked back to me with his eyebrows raised in surprise and his lips curved with expectancy of the guess I had just made. “My Advanced Physics teacher may ruin my chances of passing her,” he said. “I’m sorry I took that out on you.” So he did know his chances of being valedictorian were in trouble. Now that I knew Becca’s information was real, it all made sense. I always knew Sean was very intense about his grades. He worked hard and always kept a flawless 4.0, and even though my GPA was very high, it seemed mediocre compared to his perfection. I loved to tease him when I got the chance, but tonight did not seem appropriate to take that opportunity. His wounds still seemed open, and I would only be pouring the salt. “Don’t worry about it. I understand,” I said as we approached the hostess. “I’d probably be a little irritated if someone new came in and took my top class spot too.” I could see Sean’s crooked smirk as he looked up to the mid-thirties host. “Welcome, just the two?” she asked. I hated that look we got when people thought we were a couple. I wish she’d quit starting at us like that. Sean seemed to notice the distress in my face. He put his arm around my shoulder and smiled at the hostess. “I’m taking my little sister out for her birthday.” She smiled to me as she grabbed two menus beside her. Sean looked down at me with a grin and a wink. It was the lesser of two evils. I hated people I didn’t know to make a deal of my birthday. Sean let out a chuckle, as if he had just thought of something funny, while the hostess led us to our seat. “Is this okay?” She was smiling politely and gesturing to a circular table near the middle of the restaurant. “This is fine. Thank you,” Sean said. Sean gave an identical smile, and it felt like his past behavior was all in my head. As the hostess and Sean exchanged pleasantries, I debated asking Sean about lunch. “Would you mind taking a photo of us?” Sean’s question to the hostess pulled me from my thoughts. “Sure,” she said. I pulled my camera out from my purse before handing it to her waiting hand. I leaned into the middle of the table like Sean, holding a smile just seconds before the flash went off. “Thank you,” Sean said. I took the camera from her and placed it back into my purse. “Happy birthday.” She added a wink as she walked away. I hope they don’t sing. It was awkwardly painful when waiters sang to me, mostly, because I never knew where to stare during the song. Was it at the unknown singers? The cake? Some empty space to the left? “So how was your first day?” I was glad Sean’s question had interrupted my silly thoughts. “I’m sorry I was in such a mood this afternoon to ask.” He waited for my forgiving smile. “Good,” I said as our waiter now approached the table. “Hello, guys, I’m Kevin. I’ll be your waiter tonight. What can I get you to drink?” He was a middle-aged man with dark brown hair. His nose was a little crooked from where he seemed to have broken it when he was younger, I guessed. I did the polite thing by looking at his eyes as I spoke. “I’ll have an ice tea please,” I said. “Water please,” Sean said. I gave him a mocking smile. “Any appetizers to start out with?” I looked toward Sean because I knew I was not going to eat anything extra. “No, thank you.” The waiter nodded at Sean’s words and turned away. “I saw you sat with your old friends today.” He was stating a fact, while expressing relief. He was just as glad that I did not have to sit alone at lunch. Of course, like he had said before school, he would have invited me to sit with him in that case, but I’m sure it was nice to know your sister wasn’t a loser. And with the opportunity of talking about lunch, I decided to take my chance while it was there. “I have a question for you about lunch.” His body seemed to tense, but his face remained calm. It was like he already knew what I would ask. “And that would be?” “What was up with you and Grace Alexander?” I went with a different word choice than I was originally thinking. “What was up,” Sean repeated with a grin as he brought his hand to the table. He was putting up his guard to avoid vulnerability. “Yeah, why was that interaction so weird?” I immediately regretted my words as I watched his eyebrows and lips lift, as if by a string, to reveal his perfect teeth. I rolled my eyes at an expression of clear explanation of a point he was making, as if he was pointing out how odd she was. But he missed what I meant. “I mean it wasn’t just her. It was you too.” I pulled back to study his face, expecting to bust him, but his façade never faltered. His lips merely brought themselves back to straighten. “We’re assigned partners for a Spanish project.” So Liam had been right when he said they had Spanish together. “And you’re annoyed by that?” I asked. “Well, it’s not a partnership by choice,” he said. Sean was always huge on getting a jump-start into assignments. I had the habit of procrastination unless I was trying to use school as a distraction. But part of me thought the oddness of the two was something more than school related. “So it’s not just sexual tension?” He grimaced to me. “Definitely not.” I narrowed my eyes as I watched his own. His eyes shifted away from me as if they were forbidden to see. “What’s wrong with her? She’s beautiful, and seems so beyond her age. I figured you would like that.” Sean suddenly chuckled. “What?” My observational curiosity had caused his smile to lose all humor. “She is just strange,” he said. “What kind of strange? Like her parents are weird? She likes to sit in her own group at lunch? She only drinks Coke?” “You couldn’t tell by talking to her that she was different?” Sean asked. I guess I could admit that she wasn’t exactly a personality I had known. She was a little intimidating. And I had only been around her for a few minutes. Maybe there was something I just didn’t know about her that Sean did. “I have a question for you now,” Sean said. I looked up to notice his eyes were not as soft as before. He had switched the conversation like he did so well. “Yes?” I asked hesitantly. I knew what was coming. I had been waiting and expecting this. In fact it was probably how he knew his subject change would be so successful. “I noticed you were talking with Liam Alexander.” I tried for my wall of defense now, but I wasn’t as good as Sean was. He knew that. “That’s not a question, you know.” I tried to smile but I was so nervous from his stern features that I bit my lip instead. His brow was furrowed, and his eyes, although gleaming, became unrelenting with their stare. “Yes, he was nice enough to walk me to my locker after English.” I shifted my eyes to the table and back with the first memory. “Well, he was nice enough to help me out earlier when I couldn’t get it open too.” I was thankful to see the waiter approaching with our drinks. I sighed with some relief. “Here you are,” the waiter said. He handed me my tea while placing Sean’s water next to his right arm. Sean had not looked away from me until he decided to swiftly sip his water. “What can I get you?” I pointed my finger to the menu. “I’ll have the chicken parmesan.” I glanced up at Sean who slowly shifted his eyes toward the waiter. His head moved an inch away from my direction. “And for you, sir?” “I’ll have the lasagna. Thank you.” Sean’s voice was polite but stern. “Okay,” the waiter said. He noticed the tension between us as he collected our menus. As he walked away, I caught his pitied glance in my direction. “Do you not like Liam or something? Is he strange too?” I was grinning with a tease as my eyes moved from the table up to Sean. But Sean was frustrated with my use of Liam’s name. “You shouldn’t hang around him, Emma.” His face held no humor in its serious demeanor. Is there something wrong with him? I honestly didn’t know what to think because Sean never showed aversion to anyone before. There was always a sense of protection, like any brother, but never a firm warning to keep my distance from anyone. “Why?” I never usually question Sean’s judgment, but I found myself irritated that he didn’t approve of Liam Alexander. If there was something wrong, why wouldn’t I have already discovered it? “Just trust me, Emma. He’s not a good match for you.” I was worried with the furious expression that had returned into Sean’s face. “Can’t you give me more than not a good match?” I was trying to joke as I put the air quotes around my words. He was not biting as he almost glared at me. “I’m serious, Emma. He’s just . . . weird. I’ve heard rumors.” His eyes shifted with a small grimace of his lips. “Since when have you believed rumors?” “Since the rumor began having interest in my sister.” I knew Sean was being protective and trying his best to scare me away from whatever reason he held an aversion toward Liam. Nevertheless, his effort had made an opposite effect. There is just something in the girl DNA that makes the words stay away more inviting. I was now curious to what was so weird about Liam. He seemed sweet, polite, and charmingly beautiful this afternoon. Maybe he had some weird past before he moved to Washington. I found myself in an awkward silence as I began drinking my tea. Sean sat back and gazed to his left at a colorful canvas painting of what looked like Venice. It was as if the painting carried a familiarity to him. I couldn’t help myself as I spoke the words just as they came. “Well, what kind of rumors?” Sean turned his gaze back on me with his usual grin. As if the painting had elevated his mood. He was going to give me a headache with these emotional 180s. I caught sight of the waiter approaching with a tray that had me grateful because I was starving. But I was also annoyed since I wanted an answer. “Here’s your chicken parmesan. And you’re lasagna.” He looked up to me after reaching back to grab his cheese grater. “Parmesan cheese?” “Yes, please.” I gestured with my hand, stopping him after a few seconds. “No cheese for me, thank you.” Sean had spoken firmly before the waiter had time to move. He left once again, eager to be away from the tension. “Everything looks good,” Sean said. His eyebrows rose as he dove into his lasagna. As we ate the rest of our meal in silence, I could not get the Alexanders out of my mind. Nothing alarmed me to conclude they were what Sean was making them out to be. When Sean finally asked, “Ready to go,” I found that I was still curious. “Sure, but you never answered my question.” I smiled up at the waiter who seemed concerned about my dinner companion as he took the check back. “No change,” Sean said before pushing his seat back and catching my impatient gaze. I seemed to have a lot of those tonight. “Didn’t you even notice the strange things about him on your first day?” he asked while leading me through the restaurant. “Like what?” I said walking out the door he held open for me. Maybe I had noticed some things, but my mind wasn’t letting me recall anything that sent a red flag. “How about the fact that he never comes to lunch?” Sean said with narrowed eyes. Yes that was strange, and I had never gotten the reason. Okay, so one point for Sean. But I hated that he had that smiling gloat on his lips as he drove out of the parking lot. “That’s only one thing and for all we know it’s for a good reason,” I said. “How about how he doesn’t even look like a junior? He looks like he should be going to the university by now, and yet he’s still here,” Sean said. I sighed as it was something I had myself been thinking about. For both him and his older sister. “That could just be his genetics.” “What about—” “That’s enough,” I said annoyingly, cutting him off this time. As we turned onto my street, I knew Sean would see my clenched jaw and slow exhale. I wasn’t in the mood to hear him list off reasons why Liam was weird. “I’ll drive tomorrow,” he said. I looked back to him with widened eyes. “Aren’t you coming in?” “I think I just need some sleep. I’m exhausted.” You’re exhausted? What about me? “Well, should we take one last photo of my birthday? Or are you too tired for that?” “Oh no, for that, I think I have time to spare.” I grabbed my camera from inside my purse, and then Sean grabbed it from my hand, knowing that his arms extended further than mine did for a better picture range. “Say cheese,” he said. He snapped the picture with ease before giving me back the camera. I turned it over to get a quick look at the picture. We had identical grins, but our eyes were nowhere close to the same. I had been right from the moment I had seen him. His were an incredible bright golden honey drip of hazel that had mine looking utterly plain. Maybe mine had just dulled over the past three years though. Finally, I faced the inevitable by placing it back in my purse and opening my door. “Thanks for dinner,” I said. I leaned back to give him a kiss on the cheek before jumping out with the disappointment. “Did Sean leave?” My mom asked from the moment I had walked in the door. “Yeah, he was really tired.” I wasn’t sure whose disappointment was bigger between the two of us. Once I entered my room, I wasted time I thought I would be spending with Sean by slowly changing into my purple pajama bottoms and pink tank top before beginning to read The Scarlet Letter. I had barely started the fourth chapter when my thoughts focused on Liam Alexander. I was apprehensive to find the reason why Sean was so disapproving of the Alexanders. Maybe it was because he was so adamant to keep a distance between me and the youngest one. But why Liam? When I realized I was reading the same sentence repeatedly, I laid the book on my nightstand. The day’s exhaustion had finally surfaced. I reached for my lamp and laid my head down onto my pillow. Upon closing my eyes, I found myself in the school cafeteria. There I saw Grace Alexander, with the same electric sapphire eyes, waving to me invitingly from her table like a pageant queen. To her right, Liam stood near her shoulder with a stunning and seductive smile. His hand extended forward as he welcomed me to come join him and his beautifully alluring sister. I began to walk toward them with a thrill I couldn’t resist when a force from behind suddenly grabbed my arm. My head turned and my smile vanished when I found the same furious gaze in Sean’s eyes that he held this afternoon.

I was never that child you found in the corner reading. In fact, I loathed the idea of picking up a book. The activity seemed more of a chore than a past time. All that changed when my brother began talking to me about the newest novel he was reading.Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix. Before I knew it, my curiosity got the better of me, luring me to try the series. It didn't take long for my mindset of reading to turn on its head. But even with my new hobby discovered it wasn't until my junior year of college that I developed a hidden desire for writing stories. And when I found myself writing scenes instead of paying attention to my professors, I knew becoming a writer was the career path I was meant to follow


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Reading progress update: I've read 57 out of 341 pages.

The Prophecy (A Titan Novel) (Volume 4) - Jennifer L. Armentrout

I forgot I how much I missed these characters...... Just wish I wouldn't have found a major editing mistake within the first 30 pages. 
Oh well I still love it :D 
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Review: The Night Ferry (Konrad Simonsen #5) by Lotte & Soren Hammer

The Night Ferry  - Lotte Hammer


Sixteen children and four adults are killed in a devastating boat crash in Copenhagen. Detective Chief Superintendent Konrad Simonsen is called in, only to discover that this was no accident and that one of the passengers has a very personal connection to the homicide team.

Reeling from this revelation and not knowing who to trust, Simonsen follows a trail that eventually leads him to Bosnia and a network of criminal misconduct. All evidence points towards one shady figure: a high-ranking army specialist with a suspicious past. But the more Simonsen digs, the further the truth slips from his grasp.



*I received a free copy from the publisher and chose to leave a voluntary review. Thank you!*


When I was offered this book for review I thought it sounded interesting. And I’m happy to report that it was and even more so then I thought.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book and everything about it. I enjoyed the setting, Denmark, which was a nice change of pace and I enjoyed it to learn more about it, I only been there once. I loved the characters, the bad, the good and the ugly , we get a nice mix of them and of course I really enjoyed the story which kept me glued to the page and kept me up late to finish it. I couldn’t put it down and just had to know who, where and what ;)

The pacing of the book was great most of the times there were only a few times it felt a bit too slow or maybe I was just impatient. I also should mention that while I really enjoyed the setting it also took me a couple chapters to get used to it and learn about their laws as I went a long. But it was a pretty smooth getting used to as the book just sucks you further and further into the plot.

This was my first book in this series but I think I will go and read some of the other books in the series I also will keep my eye out for future books be the authors.  If you a fan of murder mystery and thrillers I think you will enjoy this book.

I rate it 4 ★

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Will be available July 3rd 2018


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Blog Tour: Catching Dragos by Gail Koger with Excerpt and Giveaway



Today’s stop is for Gail Koger's Catching Dragos . We will have info about the book and author, and a great excerpt from the book, plus a great giveaway. Make sure to check everything out and enter the giveaway.

Happy Reading :) 

Everyone calls Mariah Smith the Judge. No, she doesn't wear a black robe or sit on a bench. She provides a unique service to those who have been wronged. She's an expert in paybacks both psychic and magical.
Mariah's next target is the famous supermodel Fabian. Smoking hot body, the face of an Italian sinner and dumb as a rock. His crime? Sticky fingers. The man whore makes millions of dollars a year, but can't resist seducing elderly women out of their jewelry? How does she resist all that tanned, male perfection and unmask Fabian as the
gigolo he truly is?
Mariah soon discovers Mister Sticky fingers isn't quite as dim-witted as he acts. He's actually the Dragos clan's top demon hunter who is stealing back magical artifacts that open gateways to hell. Now that she's attracted Fabian's attention, he's determined to possess her and her magical abilities.
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My name’s Mariah Smith, but everyone calls me the Judge. No, I don’t wear a black robe or sit on a bench. Using my psychic and magical abilities, I provide a unique service to those who have been wronged. I’m in the business of paybacks. How did I choose this career path? Justice. I wanted justice for my father. Dad was one hell of a cop. His partner, Dan Harvey, not so much. Dan’s midlife crisis led him to dump his wife of twenty years and shack up with Bambi, a hot-to-trot teenager. When my dad found out she was only sixteen, he tried to talk his partner into stopping the affair. When that didn’t work, my father was forced to tell the chief of police what was going on. That ended Dan’s career, his illicit affair, and their partnership. The court sentenced the idiot to a year in county lockup. The minute Dan got out of jail and foundout Bambi had moved on to fresher game, he lost it. He cleaned out his ex-wife’s bank account, shot my father, and fled. My dad survived but had to learn to walk again. The lame-ass detective they assigned to the case misplaced the evidence, and the county attorney refused to prosecute. Using my rather awesome psychic abilities, I tracked the jerk to Mexico. While my dad recovered from a bullet in the back, Dan was having the time of his life in Acapulco. He drove a flashy red sports car and had a luxury villa with a spectacular view of the bay. I was going to teach Dan a well-deserved lesson. First he would lose his libido, his looks, his money, the car, and the villa. Dan’s oversexed libido was in high gear, and he wasn’t content until he had bedded at least five women a day. Did he practice safe sex? Hell, no. He liked going commando, and Senorita Clap soon had him walking like a bowlegged cowboy. It was a real shame his meds didn’t work. Disguised as a maid, I soon discovered Dan took a popular baldness drug that had some rather nasty side effects. It caused men’s genitals to shrink, and within a month 80 percent of the users became impotent. I tripled his dose, and damn, it worked. He couldn’t get it up, and not even the little blue pill helped. Dan was an extremely vain man. Instead of getting braces for his son, he blew the money on veneers for his own teeth. I added a mixture of nicotine, black tar, and a dash of magic to his toothpaste. Presto! Pearly whites gone. I hacked his bank account, sent the money back to his ex-wife, and reported Dan’s bogus credit cards to the Mexican Federales and his landlord. Next, I hotwired Dan’s sports car and drove it down to the poorer side of town. I watched gleefully as it was stripped down to the frame. I had it towed back to his villa. Dan threw a hissy fit and unloaded his Glock into the remains. Sometimes getting your car back simply isn’t enough. Dan’s expression when he got arrested for fraud? Priceless. He’s now doing time in a Mexican prison. That’s what I call justice. As time passed, my reputation grew. I became very selective about the cases I took. I’m not a killer. My retributions were carefully planned out to expose the villains’ crimes and get closure for the victims. My current target was the famous supermodel Fabian. Smoking hot body, the face of an Italian sinner, and dumb as a rock. His crime? Sticky fingers. The man-whore makes millions of dollars a year, but can’t resist seducing elderly women out of their jewelry? I’m not talking about mature women of fifty or sixty. I’m talking old. His latest victim, Ethel Rossi, was eighty-five, hard of hearing, and had a bad habit of misplacing her dentures. Rumor has it, Ethel fell asleep during the act. Maybe Fabian’s not the fabled lover everyone says he is. The Rossi family hired me to retrieve the three-hundred-year-old medallion he walked off with and unmask him as the gigolo he truly was.
How do I come up with my stories? Being psychotic helps. I was a 9-1-1 dispatcher for way too long. All those years of wild requests, screwy questions, bizarre behavior and outrageous demands have left me with a permanent twitch and an uncontrollable craving for chocolate. Don’t get me wrong. Working as a 9-1-1 dispatcher can be very rewarding. BUT - some days I felt like the entire world was nuts. I mean, c’mon, who in their right mind calls 9-1-1 for the winning lottery numbers? To keep from hitting myself repeatedly in the head with my phone, I took up writing. I made the Night Owl's Awesome Paranormal Romance Authors List.


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Reading progress update: I've read 180 out of 352 pages.

The Night Ferry  - Lotte Hammer

Me straying up late last night because this book 
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Blog Tour: Moms With Secrets by Bena Roberts with Giveaway


Today’s stop is for Bena Roberts’s Moms With Secrets. We will have info about the book and author, and a great giveaway. Make sure to check everything out and enter the giveaway.


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Move over Thelma and Louise! Enter Tammy and Lisa two moms of troubled teenage boys. Not convinced of the school's ability to deal with serious issues, the two mothers become mom detectives.

Meet Tammy Lewis - the local politician's wife. She is a dutiful wife and adores her family. Her life in her cozy village and Victorian home is perfect.

Enter Lisa Evans - an enigmatic yoga teacher and single mother. Lisa has worked hard to succeed in her life, and when she discovers her teenage son might be dealing drugs, she comes up with a crafty plan. Lisa sets out to frame innocent mom Tammy Lewis for her son's misdemeanors. Lisa's son and Tammy's son are best friends so; the set-up could work.

Is Tammy the pushover that Lisa believes?

More importantly? Has the village school got the accusations right? Are Mark and Ethan, Tammy & Lisa's children really the local village school drug lords?

Author Bena Roberts has delivered a warm and witty short read ideals for mums with troubled teenage boys who understand the pull of motherhood. How far would you go to protect your teenage son?









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Bena Roberts was a journalist and analyst. Now she prefers the title novelist and romance adventurist. She graduated in England 1994 and then with a Masters in 1997.

Born in 1973, Bena lived in West London until she was 24. Then she lived and worked in Budapest, Bruges, Prague, Amsterdam, Vienna, Hamburg and Munich. She currently resides in Germany, between Heidelberg and Frankfurt. Although she still refers to London as 'home.'

Bena successfully created a technology blog which gained funding, had lunch with Steve Ballmer and was 'top 50 most influential woman in mobile.' Her blog also won several awards including Metro Best Blog.

Bena has two children, loves small dogs and always writes books with a cup of Earl Grey.

Bena's favorite literary style is black humor, and she hopes to offer a unique voice in this area. Her books aim to confront the darkest of life experiences, with levity. Most of her writing is heavy hitting yet also entertaining. The second novel out in 2018 offers thought-provoking fiction which embraces the absurd with reality.




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Blog Tour: Faking Lucky by Q. D. Purdu with Excerpt and Giveaway

Today’s stop is for Q. D. Purdu’s Faking Luckys. We will have info about the book and author, and a great excerpt from the book, plus a great giveaway. Make sure to check everything out and enter the giveaway.

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Desdemona, a pianist in the Austin life-music scene, is channel-surfing when she stumbles upon the program Marriage Exposure. The trashy television show gets people to spill all the secrets of their sex lives, and Desdemona’s ex-boyfriend just happens to be a guest. To her shock and horror, Desdemona’s ex announces on national television that he dumped her because she never got the big O. “She faked…,” he says. Every single time. Her life is wrecked! If her friends, family and colleagues haven’t seen the interview yet, they will. How do you survive a scandal like this? How did he know she faked? And why is it that in the bedroom, Desdemona never, ever gets lucky? The lovable, creative and quirky heroine tackles these challenges. As Desdemona tries to run damage control on her reputation, she begins to explore her sexuality. Along the way, she will get a second chance at genuine love. Q. D. Purdu’s Finding Lucky won first place in the romance category of the Texas Writers’ League. Desdemona’s quest for the Big O is full of hilarious moments, handsome men, and heartfelt memories.

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Faking Lucky Chapter 1 So I’m home alone on Saturday night in my flannel PJs, relaxed on my denim sofa, eating fudge and brazil nuts, and channel surfing. Jewelry channel—maybe a flashy gem would jazz up my life. Gag—tonight it’s cameos. Sex in the City—I bet they all faked it, even Samantha. Marriage Exposure—where do they find people who will go on television and argue about their sex lives? Wait. I don’t believe my eyes. It looks like Burt on Marriage Exposure. I raise the volume and edge closer to the screen. It is him, the same reddish-brown hair and sharp features. He’s even wearing his favorite green-striped polo shirt. I haven’t seen him in a year, and he’s wearing that same shirt. The short-haired woman sitting next to him has her hands covering her face. She’s wailing something like, “You never loved me! You never loved me!” It can’t be. Burt’s in an L-word relationship? I edge closer to the screen, hardly breathing. Burt pulls at the back of his neck with one hand, the way he always does when he’s stressed, and looks down toward his feet. “I wouldn’t have married you if I didn’t love you.” Unbelievable. He’s married to her. She uncovers her red, puffy face and leans close to him. “You never loved me.” Spit flies out with her words. “You’ve always loved…” She gives a big, gasping sob and then slowly, distinctly blurts out my name. “…Desdemona. With…with…her beautiful dark eyes. Her perfect body. Her incredible piano playing.” More spit with the p’s. “Her long, thick raven hair.” She raises both hands to her head and pulls at her brownish spikes. No. I must have misheard. But she repeats my name, dragging out each syllable as if it causes her physical pain. “Des…de…mon…a.” Could Burt have dated another Desdemona? Something mushes between my toes. Fudge under my foot oozes out onto my creamy-white lamb’s-wool throw, which is now on the floor. I must have stood when she wailed my name. Brazil nuts are all over the floor. Burt takes her by the shoulders. “Jenny, no.” He always was considerate of everyone’s feelings. “I could never love Desdemona. She…she’s a freak. She fakes orgasms.” A crazy giggle snakes its way up from my chest. Is this really happening? How could he have known? Guys can’t really tell, can they? The giggle morphs into a nauseated groan. Am I dreaming? Drugged? In a parallel universe? Has Burt just announced my unspeakable flaw to the world? And so what if I don’t get the big O every, single time? Well, I guess I hardly ever get it…OK—I got it three times, and it would have been four if my vibrator had not quit working. But I’m not even twenty-seven yet—far from the sexual peak of forty. At some point during the last minute my phone has started buzzing. My autopilot eyes glance at it. Friends are texting me about Burt being on TV. So there is something worse than being a nonorgasmic faker. It’s being a nonorgasmic faker and having the whole world know it. A loud animallike howl shocks the breath out of me. What is that? I freeze and listen for a split second before I realize the roar is coming from me. I muffle my howls, hoping I haven’t alarmed my landlady, who lives in the attached duplex. With foot in fudge and phone facedown, I’m transfixed. Burt embraces his sobbing wife and mutters endearments. The MC hoofs it into the audience, whose members are clamoring to speak into the microphone. A long-haired, leather-vested guy gets the first shot. “Hey, Burt.” He’s got an oily, smooth voice—could be a talk-show host himself. “Ah, maybe you just ain’t man enough for Mona.” Mona. I hate when people call me Mona. But this could be good. Maybe the world will forget my real name. Yes! Mona. Next a clean-cut, older guy steps up and glares at the leather vest. “Des. De. Mon. A. Not Mona.” Crap. “You should be respectful enough to pronounce her complete name.” The audience interrupts with hoots that could be boos or cheers or random insanity. The MC swings the mic toward an elderly lady, but the clean-cut guy jerks him back. “I’m not finished. The first gentleman—” He rolls his eyes toward the leather vest. “—was correct about one thing.” The impatient grandma reaches for the mic, and the MC blocks her hand and tries to hurry the clean-cut guy, who looks like he’s gearing up for a long lecture. “If Desdemona is not satisfied, it’s clearly a sign of the male’s lack of technique. Research shows…” Grandma’s hand darts between the two men and snatches the mic. She runs down an aisle with the MC in pursuit. “Burt!” Her voice is surprisingly loud and shrill. “Did you ask Desdemona what’s a matter?” She screams out questions as the MC chases, grabbing futilely for the mic. “Did you ask her why?” This elderly woman sprints like a teenager. “How do you know she faked? Did you go down?” The audience is out of control now. In a shuffle of arms, a tall, skinny guy commandeers the mic. “Hey, Desdemona.” It’s as if he’s looking straight at me—in the room with me—seeing me. “Come to me.” Hairs skitter across the back of my neck. “I’ll get you there, baby.” Somehow the MC has produced a second mic that overrides the other one and muffles the noise of the audience. “Thanks for being with us for another shocking episode of Marriage Exposure. Tune in tomorrow for an unbelievable brother-in-law who sneaks into bed with his own brother’s wife—” He pauses, moves close to the camera, and raises both eyebrows several times. “—without her knowing it. You’re not going to want to miss this.” The camera pans over the audience that is now chanting, “Desdemona, Desdemona, Desdemona…” A diet-pill commercial is halfway over before I shake off the shock enough to silence the TV. Eleanor, my cat, is batting a Brazil nut across the floor. My phone rings. Ugh. It’s Mom. I grab the phone and the ruined lamb’s wool, scoop up the nuts, and hop toward the kitchen to stick my foot in the sink. I would ignore my mother, but if I don’t answer, she’ll call my landlady to come over and make sure I’m not bound and gagged, unconscious, or murdered. How will I deal with my mother’s shock about Burt’s revelation? “Mija, where are you?” “Home.” “Alone?” She’d like me to be married and have several kids by now. Alone is never a word she welcomes. “Yes.” “On Saturday night—home alone? With all there is to do in Austin?” “Yes.” She lets a long silence hang. I would normally fill it with disclaimers about being too tired to go out or the last-minute cancellation of my gig tonight. Instead of chatting her up, I wait her out and run water over my foot. Eleanor, maybe sensing my misery, rubs against my other leg. Nothing I could say will divert Mother from Burt’s blast. I take deep breaths, steadying myself for the onslaught. She finally seems to realize she’s not getting an explanation about my solitary Saturday night. “How do I say this?” She sighs loudly. “It’s one thing to know people privately, but to see them as a nationally known personality…it’s…it’s…” “Mom, just say it.” Tears well in my eyes. The reality of an insane TV show barging into my life stabs in places I didn’t know I could hurt. “OK, OK. Well, it happened while I was with my book-club group at the bookstore.” It’s really just a book corner in the general store on Main Street. “You’re at the store?” This makes no sense. It’s too late for the store to be open. “No—I’m not there now. We were there from six to eight tonight for our weekly meeting, and then we went to ladies’ night at the margarita bar and had two-for-ones, and I just now got home. You know that new bar that opened where the bakery used to be?” There are only a dozen stores in my hometown of Garcia. How could I forget? “Yeah.” “The antique store is also adding a coffee shop—oh, I’m rambling. Want me to just get to the point?” I force out a whisper and blot my tear-slicked face with a paper towel. “Yes.” She takes a deep breath again. No question that she’s unnerved by the conversation we’re about to have. My stomach knots. It will be worse to hear my mother talking about Burt and fake orgasms than it was to hear strangers on national television. I lower my wet but clean foot from the sink so I’m standing solidly. I pick up Eleanor, who allows one of her rare cuddles. She must know I need it. “Hunter Johns.” I gasp. His name triggers the same pow in my chest that happens every time I think of him, or see a stranger tilt his head that certain way, or hear a laugh that mimics Hunter’s deep ring, or dream of kissing him only to wake and remember it will never happen again. Pow. “Desdemona, are you there? Did you hear me?” I should answer Mom—say something. It’s been over nine years since Hunter and I were seniors in high school and he left the campus in handcuffs. Nine years since we swore our love to each other. Nine years since I ruined our chances of ever being together. But still the regret and loss slice razor sharp. “Desdemona?” “What about Hunter?” My voice scrapes. “Oh, good, I thought we’d been cut off. Well, we were about to discuss our new novel when all these people flooded in. Not locals, but people from San Antonio, Austin, Houston. It was just amazing. Our quiet little Saturday-night book talk was turning into…” “What about Hunter?” I can’t fathom where this is going. I’m so caught off guard that for a full two seconds I forget Marriage Exposure. “I’m getting to him. So Alma went up to the manager and asked, ‘What’s going on?’ And he said a national best-selling mystery writer was here for a book signing. Have you read Des Amone’s books?” “Yes. Sure I have.” “Did you read the one that was made into a movie?” “Mom. Where is this going? What does it have to do with Hunter?” “Des Amone is Hunter’s pen name. And Hunter came to Garcia to do a hometown launch of his new book tour. It’s all over the Internet, but none of us noticed. You know we mainly stick to romances.” “Des Amone…” I repeat her words to make sense of them. “…is Hunter’s pen name.” “Isn’t that a hoot? And ya’ll were in school together.” Mom is oblivious to the relationship I had with Hunter. She lives in her own little world that revolves around her tiny, barely-break-even flower shop with her upstairs living quarters—my home until I moved to Austin. “So we each bought his book, and when he signed mine, he asked about you. Can you believe it—a famous, rich author still remembering a classmate from all those years ago? Isn’t it funny how his pen name kind of sounds like Desdemona?” She doesn’t wait for me to answer. “So for our next meeting we’re all reading Hunter’s book. You know it’s just so much fun to read a book with a group…” “What did he say about me? What did you tell him?” “He just asked how you are, and I told him you were playing all over Austin and giving lessons. I showed him that picture of you in your long, red dress, playing that red baby grand. I think it was taken in some bar on Sixth Street. He said, ‘Still beautiful as ever.’” I shut my eyes and make myself breathe. “We could have talked and talked, but there was a line behind me, so I moved on. I told him to look you up when he goes to Austin on his book tour. And I gave him your number.” The pow that hit me when she said his name evolves into a melody that fills my chest while she drones on. The melody, not one that I could ever put to music no matter how hard I try, is always there—inside—below the surface. But at times like this it expands, presses, and hurts in the middle of my chest.

*** Until nine years ago, Hunter’s and my lives had always bordered each other’s. Garcia has only one high school, which at that time had fewer than eight hundred students. Hunter stood apart—confident, smart, athletic. For years my eyes were drawn to him whenever we had a class together—his height and his thick mahogany hair were like banners catching my attention. Even the bones in his face seemed more substantive than anyone else’s. His strong nose, his forehead with its masculine bulge above his eyebrows, the vertical line that creased each cheek, making his face strong even when relaxed. Our art teacher in ninth grade had said, “Hunter, with your bones, you’ll look the same when you’re an old man as you do now.” Throughout high school, whether I was in class or the hallway or a common area, my ears sought out his deep voice and warm laugh. Every day, no matter what else was going on, a part of me was always listening for Hunter. In our junior year, we had homeroom together. During the first semester, he sat in the middle of the room, usually surrounded by three cheerleaders, who acted as if it were their official role to keep him entertained. I sat in the back, pretended to study, and wished I could be pretty, blond, blue-eyed Georgina, the one sitting behind Hunter. Get over it. He’s a nice guy—nice to everyone. His occasional smile at me is just that—a simple smile. I was totally out of the in-crowd, and piano practice took all my time. So I never knew for sure who he was dating. One morning in homeroom, his three groupies were giggling about some whispered joke, and Hunter turned around to face Georgina, who was tapping his shoulder. I watched her hand relax onto his bicep and imagined it was my hand—imagined I was stroking those prominent muscles. When I let my gaze slide up his arm to his face, I was shocked that his eyes were waiting to meet mine. An involuntary gasp escaped from me, and somehow my soft sound pierced the giggling, and all three girls followed his gaze and turned to stare at me. I shook my head, and frowned down at whatever textbook was lying open in front of me. I pretended to be perplexed at some academic mystery. Then I gazed slightly to the right of Hunter, hoping they would think I was deep in thought and not that I had been salivating for him. After that embarrassment, I vowed to myself that I would keep my eyes off of Hunter, but the very next day, I was again drawn into watching Georgina and him. She slid into her desk and pulled a tightly folded sheet of notebook paper out of her jeans pocket. Hunter seemed to be ignoring her, focusing on an open book on his desk. She grabbed his shoulder and squeezed, but he just held up one finger as if to acknowledge her. He didn’t turn to face her. She stood, leaned her whole body over his shoulder, and passed the note to the cheerleader sitting in front of Hunter. The cheerleader unfolded the note, scanned, and instantly turned and slapped the paper onto Hunter’s desk. “Hardcore.” She grinned wickedly at Hunter. Hunter shook his head, covered the note with his hand, and slid it under his book. Clearly whatever he’d seen written on the paper was something he saw fit to cover up. By now a smattering of giggles all around Hunter caught the teacher’s attention at the exact moment Hunter tried to hide the note. Miss Gomez walked purposefully down his aisle, halted at his desk, and held out her hand. “Let’s have it, young man.” She was a first-year teacher, and she took her role as disciplinarian very seriously. Hunter gave her the note. The teacher’s eyebrows shot up above her black-framed glasses. Her tan skin flushed a burgundy red. “Does this…” Her voice shook. “…this thing belong to you?” Hunter nodded solemnly with his eyes cast downward toward his desk. “Yes, ma’am.” She wadded the note, stomped back to her desk, and started writing furiously on her pink pad. Hunter, anticipating a discipline referral to the office, dropped his book into his bag and was standing, ready for the pink slip as soon as she ripped it off the pad. Unbelievable. He was innocent. It was Georgina’s note. He had nothing to do with it. I gaped at Georgina, waiting for her to own up, but she slumped into her chair and guiltily stared at Hunter as he walked out of the room. I fumed all morning. And Georgina’s weeping in the hallway, telling her friends about Hunter taking the blame for her, didn’t soften my resolve. She needed to own up. I’d always been so frozen by my crush on Hunter that I’d never actually walked up to him and initiated a conversation. But now. Now I was determined to help him. At lunch I waited near his locker, hoping to talk with him. The hallway was almost empty. It looked as if he wasn’t coming. My heart sank lower as each second ticked by. Then he rounded the corner and started toward his locker. I blurted out, “Hunter.” My voice was too loud in the quiet hallway. “I…” I lowered my volume. “Could I talk to you?” He grinned and picked up his pace. In a few long strides, he was next to me, looking down at me. Warmth radiated from his body. The scent of him made my heart rate speed up—made me want to inhale deeply. His neck, up close, was strong and muscled, and I could see his pulse beat on one side. He had black stubble on his chin. His lips, the bottom one thicker than the top one, were slightly parted, as if waiting for me to say or do something. For long moments we stared at each other. Was he remembering the time in our sophomore year when he rescued me and we almost had a date? My face got hot, and then I did what I always do when nervous. I babbled. “Georgina brought that note in. You had nothing to do with it. You even ignored her when she tried to get your attention. She practically bowled you over leaning across you to pass the note. You are innocent. And it wasn’t fair for you to take the fall. I witnessed the whole—” He put his hands on my upper arms and gently squeezed. “Are you worried about me?” He grinned, and his eyes lit up as he peered into mine. “Well, I…it just isn’t right. I don’t think you should be blamed for something—” He squeezed again. The touch of his hands on my bare arms arrested my thoughts and my words. It wouldn’t have mattered what he said at that moment; I was speechless just from the touch of him. “Don’t worry. Nothing will happen to me—coach will just make me run extra laps—it’s no big deal.” I shook my head—mainly in an effort to clear my head. Then I said as much for myself as for him, “You must really, truly love her.” “Georgina?” He huffed out a laugh. “Everyone loves Georgina. But she’s with Leo. They’re solid.” Leo had graduated the prior year—I had known they were an item while he was still in high school; I didn’t know they were still dating. “He probably gave her the joke—saw him with it last weekend.” My head was reeling with this new information. “But, still, you shouldn’t have to take—” “Desdemona.” My heart stopped when he said my name, especially when he squeezed my arms again and moved a little closer. “Georgina wants to be class president. If she took the wrap for the note, they’d probably DQ her. All that will happen to me is laps. And I do laps every day. It’s nothing.” My need to babble had ceased. All I knew was that Hunter, gorgeous Hunter, wasn’t with Georgina, and he was standing closer to me than necessary, and he was holding my arms way longer than he needed to, and his breath was warm on my face, and if I were to stand on tiptoes and lean four and one half inches forward, I could put my lips on that pulse beat on the side of his neck. And then one side of his lips tilted upward in a grin that tugged at a secret place deep inside my body. He whispered into my ear. “It will be worth every single lap just to know it matters to you.” And the next morning in homeroom, Hunter dragged a desk to the back of the room and sat behind me. No one questioned it. We were suddenly together. We didn’t get to actually go out on dates that year—neither of us had a car, and Hunter had huge responsibilities helping his mom take care of his dad, who had suffered a brain injury in a construction accident. But all day, every day at school, we were together. And within weeks we started having stolen moments alone in the piano room. The band director had given me keys to the high school’s main entry door and the small piano room because I spent so much time there either practicing alone or accompanying a student instrumentalist. From my freshman year on, my piano teacher often hooked me up with paying gigs in the community, so with no piano at home, I needed lots of practice time at school. During our junior year, Hunter’s mother took the job as school secretary, and often, hours after most people had left the campus, she and I would be the only ones in the building. Usually, few people ever came down to the small piano room, wedged between janitor’s supply and book storage. But sometimes Hunter would come in before he checked in with his mother after athletic practice. At first I would be surprised to look up from my music and find him listening to me play. But soon I tingled with hope everyday—hope that he would come in and tell me about his day. The first time we kissed was on the piano bench. He had been standing in the doorway while I practiced “Always on My Mind” for a fiftieth-wedding-anniversary party the next weekend. The small spinet piano was angled so that my side faced the doorway, and I could see him in my peripheral vision. After the last measure, I turned toward him. The word huggable flashed through my mind. That’s how he looked with his shower-wet hair, gray sweats, and sleeveless T-shirt. His head was tilted in his reflective way. “That’s beautiful.” Our eyes connected. “You’ll play it this weekend, right?” “Yeah—and some others—all their favorites.” He stepped closer. “Will it bother your playing if I sit beside you while you practice?” “Of course not.” I patted the bench. Instead of facing the piano, he straddled the bench and faced me. His closeness set every cell in my body dancing. His warm exhale touched my neck. My body breathed in on its own as if hungry to capture his breath. My eyes dropped from his eyes to his lips—and lower. As if my hands had a will of their own, they moved to reach for him. I caught myself. Forced my eyes forward. Forced my hands to the keyboard. But he leaned closer, his gaze on my face. I turned back toward him. “Maybe…” His brown eyes burrowed into mine. He seemed to be casting for his next words. “…maybe someday you and I—” I inhaled the breath of his words. “—will have a lifetime—” He moved so close that I felt his lips moving with his last words. “—of favorite songs.” I wanted to say, “That’s the sweetest, most romantic, most touching, beautiful thing anyone could say.” I wanted to say, “You’ve just probed into my deepest, most wonderful fantasy.” I wanted to say, “Hunter, I love you, love you, love you.” But I froze. Somehow his eyes asked me if I was OK. I must have nodded because the distance between our lips closed. The feeling of being connected to him—of not knowing where I ended and he started—blurred out everything else. For a time, I lost track of where our hands were, of how his legs were embracing me along with his arms, of how our bodies were plush together, of how his secret bulge was speaking to my thigh. Footfalls, his mother’s high-heeled shoes clanking up the empty hallway, pulled us apart. Hunter stood, and I played the opening measures of “Always on My Mind” as she opened the door.

Q. D. Purdu’s debut romance FAKING LUCKY, under the title of DESDEMONA FINDS THE BIG O IN LOVE, won first place in the Texas Writers’ League Romance category, 2014. Her novella THE LIGHT WE FOUND, first published in MOTHER'S DAY MAGIC anthology, is now available as a stand-alone short read.

Q. D. loves her rescued puppy, red wine, running through sprinklers, dark chocolate with sugared ginger, and anything wrapped in a corn tortilla. Her prized possessions include a hot pink Christmas tree and a garden full of okra and basil.

She hasn’t decided what she’ll be when she grows up, but whatever it is will be filled with romantic impossibilities.


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Reading progress update: I've read 100%.

To Kill a Kingdom - Alexandra Christo

Took me longer to finish than planned but that was because of my reading slump , But that was one great book .Full review to come 

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Review: The Valiant (The Valiant #1) by Lesley Livingston

The Valiant - Lesley Livingston

 Fallon is the daughter of a proud Celtic king, the sister of the legendary warrior Sorcha, and the sworn enemy of Julius Caesar.

When Fallon was a child, Caesar’s armies invaded her homeland, and her beloved sister was killed in battle.

Now, on the eve of her seventeenth birthday, Fallon is eager to follow in her sister’s footsteps and earn her place in the fearsome Cantii war band. She never gets the chance.

Fallon is captured and sold to an elite training school for female gladiators—owned by none other than Julius Caesar. In a cruel twist of fate, the man who destroyed Fallon’s family might be her only hope of survival.

Now Fallon must overcome vicious rivalries and deadly fights—in and out of the arena. And perhaps the most dangerous threat of all: her forbidden yet irresistible feelings for Cai, a young Roman soldier.


I stumbled over this book at the my library and I thought it sounded interesting and something new.

And I’m so glad I got it, I enjoyed it even more than I thought I would.

I enjoyed the concept, the story, the world building and of course the characters. I was never a big fan of anything Gladiator, but I really enjoyed this story  and oved the modern twist she put on the pretty well known historic roman time period. And what is not to love about female gladiators lol.

Most of the book is fast paced but there are some slower parts, but overall it has a great flow to it and you never get bored with the exciting new plot . There were a few things that came over confusing but later cleared up.

I really enjoyed that while some things can be taken to a second book (checked later and there is ) most things are nicely wrapped and we are not left hanging with a giant cliffhanger which was nice.

Overall this was a nice surprise book and I’m glad I found it, I listen to it ad the audio was also very enjoyable.

I rate it 4★ and looking forward to book two now that I know there is one.








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Blog Tour: Friends & Lovers Book Series by PE Kavanagh with Excerpt and Giveaway


Today’s stop is for PE Kavanagh’s Friends & Lovers Book Series. We will have info about the books and author, and a great excerpt from one of the books, plus a great giveaway. Make sure to check everything out and enter the giveaway.

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Collecting Secrets

(Book One) 



A grieving heiress. A celebrity psychologist. A decade of friendship. UNDONE BY ONE BOLD MOVE.

When Camille first met Jackson she was too young. Too innocent. Too traumatized.

Friendship was less than what she wanted, but all she could handle.

Ten years later and she’s a different woman. Strong, successful, brave. At exactly the wrong moment, one bold move threatens everything.

The safe harbor of Jackson’s family. The unconditional commitment of his friendship. The collection of secrets she never knew existed, Claims and confessions come hard and fast as Jackson and Camille navigate all that has never been said. Each step they take, closer to the truth and each other, demands another layer of secrets must fall.

Collecting Secrets is a steamy standalone contemporary romance with no cliffhanger. You will meet characters who will reappear throughout the series.




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Coming Home

(Book Two) 


For Ramona Barrett, a lot has happened in fifteen years.
Her maniacal grandfather finally died.
Her father sobered up and got his life in order.
She built an enviable life based on righting her family’s wrongs.
And the chubby, awkward boy who used to be her best friend is now a man she hardly recognizes.
Lucas Winston recovered from his law-school fiasco and is now the hottest chef in DC. The elite clamor for a seat in his restaurant, the power-hungry vie for connections to his powerful family, and an old friend demands a forgotten promise be honored. Everyone wants a piece of him.
Except Ramona. She can’t see that he’s never stopped loving her. That they are meant to be together. Even if he is about to marry someone else.
If you’re looking for smart, sexy characters in a layered, emotionally-gripping story, Coming Home will take you there.
This steamy, standalone contemporary romance has no cliffhanger, but includes characters you will meet throughout the series.
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From Collecting Secrets


This was not the first time Camille had looked foolish, but it might have been the first time she didn’t care. Unable to find her room key or hold back the torrent of tears, she plunked down onto the ugly hotel carpet in front of her door and sobbed, loud and hard. With nothing but the back of her hand to wipe away the tears and snot, the scene quickly escalated from tragic to gruesome. Heartbreak was no stranger. But this break-up was beyond humiliating. How dare he? She had given him everything and he claimed it wasn’t enough. He’d stood in the cold marble lobby and yelled at her. Accused her of cheating. In front of everyone. Humiliation mingled with anger and desperation, halting any effort to pull herself together. They’d flown across the country to attend this wedding and now she’d be conspicuously dateless in a room full of happy couples. She tried to take a breath and choked on a new wave of tears. A soft crush of footsteps stopped in front of her, but Camille had no interest in lifting her head off her knees to look. “Hey, Cam. What’s wrong?” She knew that voice, as well as the gentle stroke of his hand in her hair. “Camille. You’re scaring me. What’s going on?” His worry pierced through her pain and, with great effort, she tilted her head up to see her best friend’s face inches from hers. His eyes flashed to fear. “Camille! What happened? Are you okay? Talk to me!” It took so much energy to form words. “Calm down, Jack. I'm okay.” “You don’t look okay. Did something happen with Charlie? Where is he?” The questions were coming too fast for Camille’s throbbing, blurry head. “He dumped me.” There, she said it. Out loud. The line of his lips flattened and his breath growled. Rage filled his expression. “That mother fu-” Camille shook her head, trying to regain her composure. “We flew all the way here and that bastard couldn’t even wait one more day.” Jackson’s mouth softened. “I'm so sorry.” He rubbed his thumb across her cheek. She looked into the warm brown eyes of her closest friend, the man who’d been like a brother for the past ten years. This was how she knew him best – kind, caring, and sweet. She didn’t care how the world saw him. She had gotten to know the real man. “Let’s get you up and into your room.” He slipped his long arms under hers and stood her up. She fell into his broad chest, melting into the arms that enveloped her. “Where’s your key, love?” he whispered into the top of her head. She mumbled into his chest. “I couldn’t find it.” Keeping a firm grip around her with one arm, Jackson dipped down to pick her purse up off the ground. “Can I take a look?” “Of course.” She had no secrets from him. She winced when he had to unlock his arm from her waist to search through her purse. Of course, he knew exactly where she would have put the key: in the smallest zippered pocket. He waved it in front of the magnetic pad and the loud click confirmed his success. As expected, the room had been cleared of all Charlie’s belongings. His compulsiveness would have prevented him from forgetting anything. Camille stepped away from Jackson to look around, hoping to find a belt, or a tie, or even a tube of shaving cream. Any excuse to contact him again. But there was nothing, not even a stray hair. Charlie had almost snuck out without her knowing. If she hadn’t had to leave the restaurant to go to the bathroom, she would never have seen him, bags in hand, striding across the lobby. Jackson stepped in front of her, halting her examination of the room, and began wiping her eyes and nose with a tissue. “I'm a mess.” Only the slightest tinge of self-consciousness colored the moment. This was who they were and had always been. He pressed the tissue across her nose and she blew, like a small child. “No, Cam. You’re just hurting.” He balled up the tissue and flicked it into the small metal bin to his right. “I know you’re upset, love. But, personally, I'm glad he’s gone. He was never good enough for you. And he reinforced his complete lack of class by doing this here. I mean, he couldn’t have ended it before flying to Chicago with you?” Camille dropped her head, another rush of tears pressing against her eyes. His broad palms cupped her face, tilting her up to look at him. “Hey, hey, Cam. He has no idea what an amazing woman you are. There are better things in your future. I know it.” His shoulders lifted as he took a deep breath. Something about the look on his face locked her attention on him. When he touched his lips to hers, a first in their relationship, a tiny spark of surprise jolted her awake. When he pressed in, more deeply, passionately and deliberately, gripping her and parting her lips, there was no question a line had been crossed. A column of heat filled Camille’s body as his mouth explored hers. She could not have imagined anything as wonderful as that kiss in that moment. Until she remembered to whom that mouth belonged.






I believe that everything we experience exists as a story within us.

My journey as a writer includes the award-winning poem I penned at the ripe old age of seven, decades of hiding and doubt, and then finally… finally!... realizing that art needs to be shared. Storytelling is part of my heritage, even though I denied it for so long. The stories I created - true and imaginary - have saved me numerous times.

My characters come to me, like old friends excited to tell me what's new. They represent the world I see and the world I want to see.

More than anything, I care about recovery from life’s setbacks… getting back on your feet after life has brought you to your knees… and my characters fight the hard fight for the lives they know are waiting for them.

I’ve drawn my inspiration from the many flavors of my life experience. Once a sad, shy girl, I’ve also been an MIT-trained engineer, biotech executive, professional dancer, yoga teacher and business owner, school founder, spiritual counselor, entrepreneur, and author.

And I own a magic wand that I’m certain will work one day.

When I’m not typing, furiously trying to capture the stories that pour from me, you can find me loving my people to excess, globe-trotting to the next great adventure, and sporting bright red lips as a tango diva. And of course on my digital homes: and






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Reading progress update: I've read 70%.

To Kill a Kingdom - Alexandra Christo

Oh my!! that escalated quickly 
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Blog Tour: The Dead Game by Susanne Leist with Excerpt and Giveaway

Today’s stop is for Susanne Leists The Dead Game . We will have info about the book and author, and a great excerpt from the book, plus a great giveaway. Make sure to check everything out and enter the giveaway.

Happy Reading :) 


Linda Bennett leaves New York for the slower-paced lifestyle of Oasis, Florida. She opens a bookstore and makes new friends. Life is simple that is until the dead body washes up onshore. She is horrified to learn that dead bodies and disappearing tourists are typical for this small town. Rumors abound of secret parties held by the original residents in their secluded mansions. Once night falls, the tourist-friendly community becomes a haven for evil and dark shadows. However, this is only the beginning. Linda and her group receive an unsigned invitation to a party at End House, the deserted house in the forest behind the town, a mansion with a violent history. They are pursued through revolving rooms and dangerous traps, barely escaping with their lives, leaving two of their friends trapped inside. It is up to Linda and her friends to search out The Dead and find the evil one controlling their once peaceful community. Can they trust the Sheriff and his best friend, Todd? THE DEAD GAME has begun.


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Linda passed the empty tables by the tall windows when she felt her arm being tugged. Before she could react, she found herself being dragged through the open patio doors and onto the isolated garden path. She came face to face with the mighty Wolf and his trusted companion, Hayden. The grounds were deserted. Everyone had left the gardens, and she was all alone with the two wicked vampires. Wolf glared at Hayden. “Please let go of her arm; we are not animals. We never force ourselves on women.” “Chivalry among demons—I’m very impressed. Too bad your table manners and choice of dishes leave a lot to be desired,” Linda said. Her hatred of Wolf had just caused her to forget her low position in the food chain; she closed her mouth to stop herself from talking. In the future, she must remember that he was a vampire—the strongest one in the world—and that he could easily destroy her at any time. Wolf didn’t seem the least bit focused on her. “I didn’t come here to play parlor games with you. I need you to convince Todd to join with us. He can never be human or will ever be accepted by them. He belongs with us. He must stick with his own kind.” “He’s not like you in any way at all: he cares too deeply for people and is loyal to his friends. On the other hand, you and your kind enjoy killing too much and have no feelings whatsoever.” “Todd will never be accepted by humans or by his own kind. He will be an outcast with nowhere to go. He must join with us.” “Todd is human and will always be accepted by humans.” “Let’s kill her now, boss. She’s going to be trouble. I could take her away and no one will ever see her again,” Hayden said, grabbing hold of her arm again. Wolf strolled over to her with a wicked gleam surfacing in his eyes. “I have a much better use for her in the future. When she finally comes to her senses, she’ll realize that she will be better off with a real vampire with limitless powers than with a pathetic human. She’ll learn about intoxicating love and passion—not the games that humans play that pale in comparison. “Here comes the human. Let her go for now.” Linda was horrified to find herself wrapped in Wolf’s strong, muscular arms. She became hypnotized by his black eyes and tempted by his deep voice. He seemed perfect in every way. She only wanted to be with him. “I’ll be back for you.” Wolf held her tight against his body and whispered in her ear. “I love the way you stand up to me with your flashing blue eyes. Soon you’ll be mine, my beautiful ice queen.” Linda couldn’t move her body. She was stuck in some kind of trance…she couldn’t leave, didn’t want to leave if given the choice. His voice soothed her and made her think of love, passion, and great need: a need that could be satisfied only by him with his expert hands and mouth. She knew that one day she was going to be with him, to be joined with him. He lowered his mouth onto hers and drew her into a swirling haze of unexpected feelings and desires. His mouth fully covering hers introduced her to a new realm of pure pleasure. His powerful form enveloped her, making her feel feelings that were foreign and untried for her. She couldn’t get enough of him. Linda tentatively began touching his face and then his body with an eager and unrelenting hunger. She didn’t know what she needed, but she knew that she wanted and desired this beautiful man standing right before her. Her past life was washed out of her mind, never to be considered again. Linda begged him to take her with him tonight. In response, Wolf lifted her in his arms, as if she weighed nothing, and turned to leave the party. His beautiful face looked victorious and happy. His black eyes filled with passion. She hoped that it was because of her. He looked down into her small face and gave a hearty roar. While Wolf carried her in his powerful arms, a dark shadow swooped out of the house and flew directly at them. Linda was knocked out of his arms, and Wolf was thrown across the patio. She looked up to see who had attacked them. It was Todd, his eyes a deadly shade of green, standing there panting. Linda backed away in horror. Todd’s eyes cleared and returned to their original dark color. Then he looked at her. “Don’t ever be afraid of me. I’m here to protect you.” Then he was struck down by Wolf.






I have always loved to read. I grew up with Agatha Christie, Alistair Maclean and so many other authors who filled my imagination with intrigue and mystery. The TV show, Murder She Wrote, kept me entertained when I was not reading late into the night.

Over the years, my taste in books has expanded to include the supernatural and paranormal genres as reflected in my selection of shows, such as Supernatural, The Vampire Diaries, and The Originals.

My first book, The Dead Game, is a paranormal suspense/mystery. It brings fantasy and the surreal to the simple murder mystery. It has dead bodies and suspects. However, it also has vampires, vampire derivatives, and a touch of romance to spice up the mix.





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