Posts Tagged ‘romance’

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Ruby and the Beast
by Ditter Kellen
Genre: Paranormal Romance, Fantasy
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After the sudden death of her father, Ruby Atwood is forced to drop out of

college to care for her younger brother. Deep in debt and on the

verge of desolation, Ruby resorts to some shady dealings on the

streets of New Orleans, in order to put food on the table for her

small family. Until one night in a dark alley, she discovers a

hideous beast she could never have imagined in her darkest

nightmares.

Cloaked in darkness, the Beast prowls the back alleys of New Orleans, lonely,

savage and bereft of hope, his demon clawing at him. With the man

responsible for his curse now dead, the Beast seeks out the only

other person who can satisfy the demon within—the man’s daughter,

Ruby Atwood.

Trapped, with nowhere to run, Ruby quickly realizes she must use her wits to

stay alive or face certain death at the hands of a monster. But the

more she tries to escape, the more she is drawn to the Beast. Desire

and fear clash, creating an unforgettable story of hope, trust and a

love found only in fairy tales…

**Releases April 4th, 2017!!**

Ditter Kellen has been in love with romance for over twenty years. To say

she’s addicted to reading is an understatement. Her eBook reader is

an extension of her and holds many of her fantasies and secrets. It’s

filled with dragons, shifters, vampires, ghosts and many more

jaw-dropping characters who keep her entertained on a daily basis.

Ditter’s love of paranormal and outrageous imagination have conspired together

to bring her where she is today…sitting in front of her computer

allowing them free rein. Writing is her passion, what she was born to

do. I hope you will enjoy reading her stories as much as she loves

spinning them.

Ditter resides in Florida with her husband and many unique farm animals. She

adores French fries and her phone is permanently attached to her ear.

Ditter Kellen is giving away a Kindle Fire at the end of each month until

the release date!

To enter at her Facebook page click HERE
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Welcome to My Monday Minis Reviews where I share short reviews of books I’ve read. For today I’ll be sharing my thoughts about Sweet lake by Christine Nolfi, the first book in the Sweet Lake Series.

Sweet Lake

Sweet Lake #1

by Christine Nolfi

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Genre: Romance

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My Review

There’s something about stories that are written around inns and bed & breakfasts that draws me in. I like to read about the daily running of them and the guests and other characters that reside there.

There’s no lack of colorful characters at the Wayfair Inn. There’s Linnie, daughter and owner of the inn, struggling to bring it back to it’s former glory after her black sheep of a brother, Freddy, nearly put it in bankruptcy. She’s tough in business but soft where the human condition figures into things.

You’ve got her two close friends, Jada and Cat, who constantly pull Linnie’s head out of the sand when she tries to hide from confrontations and personal decisions. Friends like that are handy indeed.

There’s the Sweet Lake Sirens. Among my favorites. A group of older ladies who mind the P’s and Q’s of everyone else. They remind of the Ya Ya Sisterhood and such a hoot.

And there’s local attorney and hottie, Daniel Kittering. He’s carried a torch for Linnie for a long time and things are starting to heat up.

Plus, now Freddy is back in town. So you can imagine the tongues wagging as everyone wonders what the devil he could want. He’s got some nerve as he’s done things to make most everyone angry with him.

I’m very much into character driven stories and this book has a plethora to engage with. And the author has you wishing for happiness for all, even the brother who lost his way.

It all flows fast and furious, keeping the reader immersed in the story, eager for the conclusion, and crossing fingers for a happy ending.

An enjoyable read and great beginning to a fun series. This is the perfect read to enjoy at the beach, or any time, anywhere.

5  Stars

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Synopsis

Linnie Wayfair knows just how many people are counting on her. But knowing doesn’t make doing any easier.

Everyone in Sweet Lake, Ohio, wants her to muster all her business sense and return the Wayfair Inn to its former glory. Her parents hope she’ll forgive her scoundrel of a brother and reconcile the family. The eccentric Sweet Lake Sirens want her to open the inn—and her heart—to new possibilities. And her hilarious lifelong friends Jada and Cat are dropping none-too-subtle hints for her to ignite a romance with Daniel Kettering, the sexy attorney who’s been pining for her for years…

Now a shocking turn of events will open old wounds and upend the world Linnie has carefully built. She has to make changes quickly—and the results, though not entirely what she expected, might be what she’s been yearning for all along.

AMAZON

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Welcome to My Monday Minis Reviews where I share short reviews of books I’ve read. For today I’ll be sharing two books. One is an anthology, Scream, which releases tomorrow. And the other, Becoming Dragon is a new series from Eve Langlais.

Scream releases on February 14th. It’s a steal at only 99 pennies. Go HERE to claim your copy!

Scream

A Collection of Dark Tales

by Multiple Authors

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Genre: Dark Tales / Thriller / Serial Killers

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My Review

I’m drawn to stories about serial killers. I’ve been told by many it’s a morbid fascinate. LOL You’ll get nine short stories about them in this anthology, each author bringing their own dark spin to their tales.

I won’t play favorites and name any certain ones, but some of these hit hard and a couple were pretty good. One left me confused. I read it twice and felt like the end might have been left off or I just completely didn’t get it.

It was great to read some familiar authors and discover new ones. I found a few that I’ll be checking out now.

There’s lots of terrible monsters in these pages. They may look human, but there’s no humanity in the way they delight in their kills. You’ll also come across a bit of the paranormal or supernatural, which I find adds to the suspense and scares.

A great collection that’s sure to satisfy that dark craving inside you. I read them late at night and got even more thrills.

5 Stars

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Synopsis

Biohazard by Kathy Love
Jenny knew when she took a job working for a crime cleaning company, she would experience some weird situations. But she never thought one of her co-workers, David, would fall in love with her, and man, does he have a strange way of showing it. Hearts drawn in blood spatter and notes out of body tissue? That takes weird to a whole new level. Add to that, with a serial killer on the loose, she finds herself spending a lot of time at work—and with David. Soon, she can’t help wondering if he could be the one killing these people. Just so they can spend more time together.

Undying Love by Kristine Mason
Till death do us part does not apply…

Morgan Smithwell’s first love is killed in a car accident, leaving her devastated and heartbroken. When she claims his ghost has visited her, Morgan’s parents and psychiatrist believe she’s had a psychotic break. But Morgan knows the truth. Death cannot come between her and the boy she loves. Now, to keep their love alive, Morgan must find her lover a new body. Again and again…

No Eulogy for a Stranger by Caleb Pirtle III
Easy Eddy Dollar is not quite sure where he is when he awakes on a park bench with a bullet wound in his stomach. And just who are all these people entering his life? With only twenty-four hours to find out, Easy Eddy Dollar knows he’s a stranger among strangers, and nobody has a prayer to recite at the grave of a stranger.

The Woman of My Dreams by Joe Broadmeadow
The cut of a truth long hidden is quick, deep, and painful. Yet, life has a way of never missing a beat, even when breaking your heart. Is there such a thing as loving too much?

The Hunter by Drew Jordan
Not every woman is fortunate enough to be married to a serial killer like I am. Why is that lucky? Because he will protect me from everyone and anyone…and never ever hurt me.

Follow The Hunter from Alaska to Canada to reclaim his wife, Laney. Or to make her his final victim. The Hunter is a short story related to the dark and sexy CRASH trilogy, which includes Crash, Hide, and Expose.

The House That Weeps by Elle J Rossi
Andrew Stevens has one shot left to do something good with his life. But will the horrors inside the house that weeps be his savior or his ultimate demise?

The Silent Widow by Kimberly McGath
Eight-track tapes and bell-bottoms were all the rage in the late 1970’s. Citizens had become familiar with serial killers such as Zodiac, but nothing prepared them for this sweetheart killer. Valentine’s Day will be red with blood in this rural town. Author Kimberly McGath will keep you guessing in The Silent Widow, with many twists and turns that will make you Scream. But will you be able to?

Chimes at Midnight by Paul Dale Anderson
Never play blind man’s bluff with a blind man. Never play games with an old man entering his second childhood. And never ever play for keeps or bet your life because the odds are not in your favor.

A Sultry Abyss by Sue Coletta
Crime Writer Sydney Slaughter has spent her life researching serial killers. What she never expected was to find herself at the center of a brutal murder spree. When visions hit too close to reality, Syd goes to a hypnotist to tap into her subconscious. What she envisions shakes her very core. Can she use her skills to expose the killer? Or will fate turn the table, reveal things she never wanted to know?

AMAZON

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Becoming Dragon

Dragon Point #1

by Eve Langlais

Narrated by Chandra Skye

Published by Tantor Audio.

Published January 25, 2017

Format: Unabridged Audiobook

Length: 7 hours and 22 minutes

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Genre: Paranormal / Fantasy / Romance / Shifters

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My Review

Not having read Eve’s books before, but meaning to, I didn’t know what to expect. It’s a brand new spin off series from her Bitten Point books. I was thrilled with this book. I was quickly immersed in the story and never felt the need for a break.

Aimi is strong, knows what she wants and goes for it, that being Brandon. I have a feeling he doesn’t stand a chance. It was fun to meet Aimi. She’s my kind of gal. And the antics of her odd family gave me plenty of chuckles.

Brandon grew on my quickly. He’s got a lot to handle, trying to adjust to his new self. He escaped from a facility that experimented on him and he’ll forever be changed by it. He doesn’t know what to make of the sexy and determined Aimi, who states he’s hers.

The chemistry between these two characters was electric. I was anxious to see who would give in to who and had such fun with their back and forth banter.

There’s plenty of snarky dialogue, which is always a win with me. Lots of intrigue, people needing rescuing, and some steamy encounters to warm you up on a cold night.

I’ve been wanting to try Eve’s Bitten Point series, and after having such fun with this book,  now I have to.

5 Stars

About the narrator.

Chandra Skye does a fabulous job. She even manages to pull off the male characters convincingly. I’ll be keeping an eye out for her.

I received a complimentary copy from Tantor Audible Books. My review is voluntarily given.

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Synopsis

A new series spun off the end of Bitten Point…

Brandon’s story…

Dragon Point isn’t a place, but rather a society, a secret one. And humans aren’t invited.

I’m a monster. That’s what Brandon thinks when he flees the medical institute that changed him. Living a normal life isn’t in the cards for him because, while he can hide his scaly skin, his wings are hard to miss. So he runs and lives in the shadows where monsters belong. What he didn’t expect to find were others just like him, and they call themselves dragons. Or so Aimi with the violet eyes tells him when she pins him to the ground.

Seriously, though, dragons?

He doesn’t want to believe, but the evidence is mounting. Not helping his resolve is the fact that the woman with the silver hair doesn’t fear the monster and wants to claim him.
However, before he can think of his own happiness, he has to rescue his little sister. Uncle Theo kidnapped her, and Brandon will do anything to get her back, even if he must embrace the monster within to become the dragon.

AMAZON

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You can find a list of my reviews HERE.

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Welcome to The Friday 56 hosted by Freda’s Voice.

 

This is a really fun meme!

The only rules are to grab a book (any book), turn to page 56 or 56% in your eReader and find a sentence or a few (no spoilers) that grabs you and post it.

Then go over to Freda’s Voice and leave your link so we can visit your 56!

My 56 for this week is from:

 Every Last Word 

by Tamara Ireland Stone

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Genre: YA Contemporary/Romance/Mental Health

From page 56 in the hardcover.

Everyone stands, clapping and cheering, and Sydney holds her skirt to one side and curtsies. Then she throws her arms up in the air and her head back and yells, “Yes! Stick me!”

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Read on if you want to know more.

Synopsis

If you could read my mind, you wouldn’t be smiling.

Samantha McAllister looks just like the rest of the popular girls in her junior class. But hidden beneath the straightened hair and expertly applied makeup is a secret that her friends would never understand: Sam has Purely-Obsessional OCD and is consumed by a stream of dark thoughts and worries that she can’t turn off.

Second-guessing every move, thought, and word makes daily life a struggle, and it doesn’t help that her lifelong friends will turn toxic at the first sign of a wrong outfit, wrong lunch, or wrong crush. Yet Sam knows she’d be truly crazy to leave the protection of the most popular girls in school. So when Sam meets Caroline, she has to keep her new friend with a refreshing sense of humor and no style a secret, right up there with Sam’s weekly visits to her psychiatrist.

Caroline introduces Sam to Poet’s Corner, a hidden room and a tight-knit group of misfits who have been ignored by the school at large. Sam is drawn to them immediately, especially a guitar-playing guy with a talent for verse, and starts to discover a whole new side of herself. Slowly, she begins to feel more “normal” than she ever has as part of the popular crowd . . . until she finds a new reason to question her sanity and all she holds dear.

AMAZON

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Leave your link and I’ll drop by your 56.

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You can find a list of my reviews HERE.

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Title: Flightless

By: L. Duarte

Publication Date: January 23, 2017

Publisher: LD Publishing LLC

Genre: Romance

Cover Designer: Okay Creations

#flightlesstour

Everyone has a story.

Mine went like this: Once upon a time, I met a boy. He was the most handsome fella in the land. I fell in love. Together, we had cosmic chemistry. I believed I would live a life of unending bliss. Until he broke my heart. Shattered it to pieces. And I lived unhappily ever after instead. The end.

Or so I thought.

Life found a way to reunite us. But to change that unhappy ending, I had to learn how to forgive. And my heart seemed unable to do so.

This is a love story. But it is also, much more. It’s the story of how I coped with my shortcomings, my fears and rewrote my destiny. Everyone has a story. This is mine.

Check out these other amazing books from L. Duarte

 

 

 AMAZON –  http://amzn.to/2jKjjiu

 AMAZON  – http://amzn.to/2jLA6ly

Chapter One

I stepped back. Not literally, just figuratively. I did that with every concert. I allowed my mind’s eyes to hover over me and my fans while I analyzed and dissected the unique relationship between us.

As I watched the multitude of people—a beautiful kaleidoscope of different races and social statuses—my heart, in utter bliss, roared.

The audience held their hands upwards as if in an offering or a request. I never knew which. In perfect synchrony, their arms rolled in waves like the swaying of a stormy sea. Their voices cried out my name, and the smell of their sweat and the heat of their mingled bodies emanated from them, unfurling to me like the sweet perfume of incense.

I held the mic near my motionless lips and stared at them. At that moment, I became one with thousands. At that moment, I took back from the crowd all the energy I had fed them. And their vibe made me high and drunk. It was my personal Nirvana. The kind of rapture that can only be attained through uttermost intimacy. A oneness I had only felt with one other person. A person who had severed that connection and shattered my heart into a million shards of pain.

I worshiped them as they adored me. The exchange of atomic energy contained nuclear power. I was drained from giving. They were wasted from receiving. But we were both impossibly happy and satisfied.

My motionless lips finally moved, uttering the final words for the night. The parting words. “Good night, Sydney!” I waved a hand back at them. “You looked beautiful tonight. All forty thousand of you.”

I bowed. They deserved my reverence. People had spent their time camped outside the venue waiting for a closer glance at me. They had spent their precious earned money to see my performance. They were worthy of my respect and gratitude.

Another wave of a hand. A kiss. Another bow. And I was out. Another show was done. Eight more to go.

I jogged backstage and gave the mic to Jeremy, my makeup artist, in exchange for a bottled water. He opened a portable case containing all the potions that would quickly improve my appearance for the meet and greet. 

Before I took a swig from the bottle, Clara, my assistant, brusquely interrupted my post-concert ritual. She snatched the bottle from my hand and returned it to a confused Jeremy. “Gray. With me,” she demanded, grabbing my elbow and urging me toward my changing room.

I glanced back at the stunned face of Jeremy. It was time for meet and greet with the VIP’s. I needed to freshen up. My makeup had all but melted under the stage lights.

Once inside the privacy of the room, I demanded, “What’s going on?”

She raised a finger and said, “Wait.”

I opened my mouth to protest. Instead, I swallowed the words. Clara was usually a chatterbox; her clipped words quickly clued me in that something was seriously wrong.

As I waited, Clara dialed a number on her phone. Her silence became as unnerving as the red glare of an alarm light.

“Betty, I have Gray,” Clara said. Wordlessly, she shoved the device in my hand. The door closed with a thud after she exited in a flurry of silent drama. 

“Mama?” I asked holding the phone to my ear.

“Hey, Puppy,” Mama said in a soft, almost regretful tone.

“What’s going on?” I asked. Silence filled the other end of the line, only increasing my concern. Mama knew I had just left the stage. She followed my tour from home. Minute by minute. It was unusual for her to call me so soon following a show.

“How was, um, the, um, concert?” she asked.

“Mama, did you call me to ask how the show went?” I furrowed my brows and every hair on my body stood at attention. Mama knew my routine during a tour. After a performance, I had a brief meet with fans and then I would go on hours of silence to rest my vocal cords. Although she knew she could call me at any time, she never called until at least ten hours following a show.

“Mama?” I prodded after a long silence.

“I have cancer,” she said bluntly.

The phone connection was perfect. No static. But Mama’s words hummed in my ear with a tunnel-like quality. Distorted, altered, garbled. My mind, however, had remained sharp and alert. Without much thought and after a brief pause, I uttered the words, “I’m coming home.” I hadn’t said those words in over a decade. Somehow, they didn’t taste as foreign as I had imagined they would.

  ***

 

“Gray,” I said. The word hovered on my tongue, saturating my taste buds with an acrid taste. “Gray,” I repeated, letting it roll off my tongue. I did that a lot. It was my name.

Often, I mused about my name. It hadn’t been given to me because it was fashionable. Nevertheless, it had a history. My history.

When I was little, I liked to fancy its origin. The sky, I would think, was painted gray the day I was born. I loved the theory. The unattainability of the infinite mass of gray made it a great namesake. Whenever gray clouds hovered in the sky, I would lay on my back and stare at them, dreaming that when I grew up, I would build an enormous ladder, climb it, and touch the gray painted dome. It was all, of course, a foolish child’s dream, born out of vain imagination. I wasn’t born during the day, nor was the sky gray. And it was most definitely not the inspiration behind the choosing of my name.

I was born in a graveyard. Serene Hills Cemetery, it was called, though its surface was flat. It was a fall night, October 20th, approximately 11 pm.

They found me covered in vernix. I used the term ‘they’ loosely. A dog found me. A female German Shepherd mix that went by the name of Sunshine. Her fur was golden. Shiny like sun rays. I had a newspaper cut-out of her. It’s black and white, but it described her that way. In the shot, she looked straight at the camera, two vivid round eyes dotting a long and alert face. She had the knowing stare of someone who was aware she had done a good deed.

Obviously, I don’t recall the details surrounding my birth. I was an infant. But I had Mama tell me the story so many times, which after a while, the images ingrained in my brain like the roots of a tree embedded in the fertile soil. They became so real in my imagination that it felt as if they were my recollections.

I was a born a preemie. Weak, small, and blotchy-faced. I was skin and bones with a mop of black spiky hair, and a bad case of a cold.   

A miracle, they called me. But I knew I was no wonder. I happened to have the perfect concoction of healthy lungs and a loud cry. These, and the sharp canine sense of hearing and smelling had saved me. I didn’t believe in miracles. Not anymore.

When they found me, decay from the trees covered the ground on a fascinating palette of colors—an array of red, yellow, purple, brown, orange, golden, bronze.

I used to question why the leaves change colors and fall off the branches. According to a scientific explanation, leaves are a weak and feeble part of a plant. So, before the weather gets severely cold, the trees should toughen up to protect themselves. Or simply dispose of the leaves, the weak part.

Personally, I believe they turn colors before falling as revenge. A personal vendetta. And for that I applaud them. They turn their death into a poetic and alluring sight. That line of thought made me believe death was beautiful. It fascinated me. It’s more interesting than birth, although similar.

I had been abandoned under a pile of dead foliage. According to the police investigation, it appeared my birth mother had buried me under the leaves. Hid me. Like a criminal attempting to cover its tracks. Supposedly, I spent the night under a cocoon of leaves. The tree’s decay was soaked with blood and amniotic fluid.

According to Sunshine’s owner, they were walking on the sidewalk by the cemetery when she heard a whizzing sound. Sunshine’s owner discarded the noise as being the cry of squirrels.

Sunshine didn’t. At odds with her sweet nature, she became agitated and broke loose. She squeezed through a small gap in the fence and disappeared between the gravestones, leaving her owner in a frenzy.

Less than a minute later, Sunshine returned. Her mouth muzzled around my small waist, my umbilical cord dragging, rattling the decayed leaves.

I found my story fascinating, unique. Or so I told myself whenever I got teased at school.

The hospital staff called me the Graveyard Miracle. Soon after, Gray for short. It stuck.

I spent three months in the hospital. That’s where Mama worked. The graveyard shift. She fed me. She bathed me. She caressed my skin. “My heart had not a chance. It fell madly in love with you,” she said, whenever she told me my story. Her pale hand, dotted with freckles, caressing my black, straight hair.

 When I became her child officially, she quit the night job. “I had brought home my very own Graveyard Miracle.”

She found a day job at a pediatric clinic, occasionally helping at the hospital for extra income. She continued working at the clinic throughout my childhood, adolescence, and after I left home. She remained there until cancer said, “No more.” Until cancer said, “I want your time. From now on, you are going to dedicate every waking hour to me. I’m egocentric. I want it all. I want your flesh and the total sum of your soul.”

That’s why I was there, sitting in the back of a limousine Clara had rented to pick me up from JFK airport and take me home.

“When should I schedule your flight to LA?” she had asked. “Only a one-way ticket for now,” I responded.

32 Lorelai Lane, my childhood home. It was a small Victorian-style house, built in 1929. The colorful foliage of a maple tree and an oak tree framed the dwelling as if it was extracted from the pages of a fairy tale book. When I was little, I used to fancy my house was lovely. The most enchanting place in all realms. Staring at the house, I discovered that I still thought that. It was the most magical place in the world because it was the place that humans refer to it as ‘home’. And home is a thing of fairy tales. Rare and pure.

The car door was wide open, awaiting me. I climbed out. The driver stood straight as a pole. His hands perfectly folded in front of him, his face impassive. I wondered how long he had stood there, waiting for me, questioning my sanity. The luggage was lined up at the front porch. His face remained expressionless when I pulled a generous tip from my purse and handed it to him. “Thank you,” I murmured.

He drove off, the sound of the engine trailing off into the quiet street. It was late at night. The crisp air smelled of burnt wood and autumn, reminiscent of bonfires and fireplaces.

I crossed the stone path leading to the front steps.

The hinges of the front door squeaked, and Mama slowly appeared as light spilled out from inside the house. She leaned against the doorframe, cocked her head, her eyes fixed on me. She knew me so well. She knew I needed the time.

I peered up, carefully examining Mama’s face. It had been only two months since I had last seen her, but she appeared decades older. Even under the porch’s pale yellowed light, I could detect the lines circling her mouth. Small bags sagged under her eyes, and her plump skin appeared loose, dripping like melting wax. Her hair showed inches of gray and her usual square and proud shoulders were smaller, fragile. But what got my attention the most were her eyes. Their vivid green had turned opaque.

The grief and sorrow in her stare set my feet in motion, and I climbed the steps.

When mama stepped forward, the old wooden floor groaned and creaked under her feet. She came to a halt at the top of the stairs. Her lips curved into a small smile, and her arms spread open in an inviting hug.

As I stepped forward, my legs felt wobbly with the weight of so many years of absence.

 

I have found that there is only one thing better than reading, and that is writing. I am always torn between the two. I am also frequently torn between chocolate and coffee. However, I emphatically do not like the month of February, lies, and flies. For me, bravery is defined by the courage to do what we fear the most. I live in Connecticut with my husband and two children. Drop a few lines. I would love to hear from you.

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE

For a list of free eBooks go HERE

To see all of my giveaways click on the lucky horseshoe below!

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