Monday, December 29, 2014

Book Review: Tell Me When I'm Dead (The Dead Series #1) by Steven Ramirez


*** 5/5 Stars ***

This story was ooey gooey awesome! Zombie gore with a hate but love him hero... this book was awesome. While I can't watch horror movies, I love me some old fashioned flesh eating monsters (weird, huh?). MR. Ramirez did an excellent job of keeping the story unique in a market saturated with the undead. The characters are raw, real, and just crazy enough that is made my reader hair stand on end.

The main character is a recovering alcoholic and a jerk, married to a gal who's tried for years to change him. On one fatal night of a car crash, life goes way out of whack. His ex girlfriend is literally out to get, I mean eat him, and the previously docile sick folk are now out for flesh. Dave discovers a platoon of friends, enemies, and new family in his escapade to escape the horde of undead and keep those he loves alive. I don't want to give any spoilers!

A very fast paced horror story with lots of action and plot lines, this book kept me on my toes and reading late into the night. Ends on a clammy cliff-hanger. You might as well do your favor and just buy book one and two together so you don't have to wait to see what happens next.




Steven Ramirez is the author of Books One and Two of THE DEAD SERIES,Tell Me When I’m Dead and Dead Is All You Get. He has also published a number of short stories, as well as a children’s book, and he wrote the screenplay for the horror-thriller film ‘Killers.’ To hear about new releases,visit Steven lives in Los Angeles with his wife and daughters.

You can connect with Steven on Twitter at and Facebook at More information at

Sunday, December 21, 2014

Book Review Tour: Faery Marked (The Faery Series Book 1) by Mary Waibel


 Blurb: When Callie Rycroft wakes to find purple flames flickering on the ceiling, she believes she’s still dreaming. But soon she’s forced to accept that she has magic―a special magic that grants her entrance into the Faery Realm.

For centuries humans have been banned from Faery, but dangerous times call for dangerous measures. Declared Champion by the Faery Queen, Callie is assigned a Guardian, and tasked with finding the Cordial―a magical elixir needed to keep the portal to the Faery realm a secret from humans.

The upside? Reece Michaels, the boy she's been crushing on for years, is her Guardian. Callie hopes that, by spending time with Reece, he'll start to see her as more than just his best friend's sister.

The downside? She's in a race not only against time, but against another Champion, and a rogue Guardian―a Guardian who stands to threaten her developing relationship with Reece.

Magic, mistaken identities, and hidden agendas are the least of Callie's worries when she learns that the Cordial requires a sacrifice. Will Callie be willing to risk everything―even Reece―to complete her task as Champion? Or will she let the portal open, and doom both realms?




*** 4/5 Stars ***

The lovely author and folks at BookFish, the publisher, allowed me to take a peek and review the ARC of "Faery Marked." This book was spot on for the intended age group (12-18) or the over 18+ set that love YA like myself. The plot was clean and concise, but details whimsical and the romance just steamy enough not to overwhelm.

Callie is a likable heroine that does not suffer from what I like to call "airhead mode" (crushes on every fella, clueless to real world, derps from one action to another with no consequence) in some YA novels- she is realistic, feels/expresses actual and relatable emotions, and makes human mistakes. She is hit hard by the death of parents, her older brother has custody, and she finds out during a very disturbing night that she's humanity's last hope. She is to solve a riddle and find the object that keeps the Faery and Human realms apart, or the separation of both worlds is gone.

The fella she adores turns out to be not human and he has a slew of brothers. One brother just happens to share the same job, pursues Cal' in the middle of her adventures, and she swaps kisses with both. Who will she choose?

Here direct enemy is of the dark Faery and a complete mean girl nut job. After some epic word and actual physical battles, Callie is left at the end of the book on a major cliff hanger decision.

This series will be sure to captivate YA readers and YA lovers alike. Looking forward to book #2!



Tell us a bit about yourself. I live in Upstate New York, with my husband, son, and two cats. If I’m not reading or writing, I’m probably at a rink somewhere watching my son play hockey. I’m an avid reader, but I read more in binges than at a steady pace. When I’m in reading mode, I can devour 1-2 books a day (depending on length). These binges usually last no longer than a month, and then I go back to writing and reading at more normal pace.

When did you begin writing? I’ve dabbled at writing for a long time, but I didn’t seriously start pursuing writing until about 5 years ago.

Have you ever been discouraged in regard to your writing ability and if so, how did you get past it and move forward? Oh yeah. I got back some well deserved, critical feedback that put me in quite a funk. Once I got over the sting (I really loved the story) I could see what my critique partner was telling me and I worked at improving my story.

What's your favorite thing about writing? Discovering new worlds and new characters. I love seeing where my characters take me in the first draft.

What is your writing style? Do you like to outline or just write as you go? I usually know where I’m starting and where I’m ending, and the middle is all uncharted territory. Recently, I’ve started trying writing a synopsis-style outline to follow for my first draft. The middle is still pretty vague, but it’s more structured and should help me to draft quicker.

Do you have a favorite spot where you like to write? Anywhere I can have my laptop, computer, or tablet.

What is something you've written that will never see the light of day? I don’t like to say never, as someday I hope to figure out how to save it, but I have a superhero story based on characters my husband and I roleplayed in a D&D style gaming campaign.

What is your writer food? Is coffee a food? How about M&M’s. I like the snack pack ones, and eat them in pairs, grouped by colors (ie: 2 blue, 2 orange, 1 yellow/1brown, 1 red/1 orange). Yeah, I’m strange. My son never lets me forget it :-)

What's the hardest thing about writing for you? Finding time to do it. Right now, things are crazy busy for me, and I’ve been letting a lot of projects sit while I try to catch up on everything else.

What inspires you to write? Music, especially lyrics that tell a story. But also pictures, poems, dreams, and just random thoughts.

How many books have you written and which is your favorite? I have written four full books and a novella. Three books are in the Princess of Valendria series, and Faery Marked is the fourth. I self-published The Mystery Prince, a novella, so to learn more about the publishing process. Of all of these, I’d say it’s a tie between Faery Marked and Different Kind of Knight, the third book in Valendria series.

What are some of your favorite books? Here’s a random variety of books I’ve read and gravitate back to to re-read.

The Lux series by Jennifer Armentrout

The Looking Glass War series by Frank Beddor

Any book by Nora Roberts (She’s my fave romance author)

Any book by Tonya Burrows (Hot military guys. Need I say more?)

Scored by Lily Harem (NOT for under 18)

The Devil Take You by HK Carlton (Historical Romance. In Scotland. One of my favorite period pieces)

What authors do you like to read? Nora Roberts, Jennifer Armentrout, Lisa Shearin, Tonya Burrows and many, many more!

What inspired you to write Faery MarkedI wanted to write something similar in style to Jennifer Armentrout. She has an amazing writing style that lets you feel like you and the characters have been friends for years. And the feels she delivers. Wow. I just love it. So, while I know I have a long way to go to emulate her writing, I gave it my best effort.

If you could choose a dream cast for insert title, who would you pick?

Reece: Drew Van Acker

Callie: Kelsey Chow

Gwen: Phoebe Tonkin- with sapphire blue eyes

Ryan: Glen McCuen- with a little bit lighter hair and green eyes

Would you say you relate to any of your characters? If so, which one and why? In some ways I relate to Callie. While writing her, I got to relive memories from my own years in high school. And I’d like to think I’d be as accepting of magic as she is.

This or that.

Sweet or Salty? Both

Naughty or nice? A little bit naughty

Cats or dogs? I have cats, so cats. But I love dogs, too.

Vanilla or chocolate? Chocolate.

If you were deserted on an island, which author would you want to be stranded with? Hmm. This is a tough one. I pick Jennifer Armentrout, so I can learn about her writing style and read her awesome books before anyone else!

authorAuthor Photo- Mary Waibel

YA author Mary Waibel’s love for fairytales and happy-ever fill the pages of her works. Whether penning stories in a medieval setting or a modern day school, magic and romance weave their way inside every tale.

Strong female characters use both brain and brawn to save the day and win the heart of their men. Mary enjoys connecting with her readers through her website:



Win a signed copy of Faery Marked and other swag. Details HERE. Don’t miss out on this LIMITED TIME OFFER!!!

Thursday, December 18, 2014

Book Tour Review: Too Late To Run by John Perich

Hosted by Pump Up Your Book Tours!

Too Late to Run 2
Title: Too Late to Run
Author: John Perich
Publisher: John Perich
Pages: 402
Genre: Mystery/Thriller
Format: Kindle
Too Late to Run is the third book in a series of gritty mystery novels starring Boston photojournalist Mara Cunningham. This time, Mara reluctantly aids a crooked real estate developer from her past who's been detained on trumped-up charges. But each clue she uncovers turns up more enemies - backwoods militias, corrupt bankers, and a mysterious pyromaniac - and raises doubts as to her friend's innocence.



Too Late to Run is available at Amazon.

Discuss this book at PUYB Virtual Book Club at Goodreads.


*** 5/5 Stars ***

"Too late to run was an excellent mystery thriller with plenty of twisty turns and bad guys. Mara is a completely gutsy, no holding back heroine. She takes her investigator skills to a new level and tries to ferret out a how a suspicious death in a fire is related to mortgages, and an estate mogul. Add in a handsome and vulnerable cop and we have a mystery winner, ding ding!

Mara literally kicks ass and takes no names. No one sticks Mara in the corner, including her own flaws that she overcomes. The whirling action in the book made it a fast paced read. I found myself having to re-read a few paragraphs to catch up on "who dun it" there were so much action. The ending was cherry on top.

If you like your lady heroines tough, gritty funny, and kick butt, this mystery is for you.


When the feds came for Mickey Scanlon, they came hard: guns out, blue windbreakers with big yellow letters, “ON THE GROUND, ON THE GROUND NOW.” They shouldered their way through the lobby of Greenfield Development Associates, the largest of Scanlon's several fronts, just after twelve noon. The receptionist, a twenty-two-year-old intern chosen for her cup size, had the sense to hit the panic button beneath her desk before an agent whipped around the counter and cuffed her. The cuffs were too tight, she whined.

Mickey Scanlon—just past fifty, tan as a baseball glove—saw the pulsing light in the alarm panel above his office door: three quick strobes, pause, another three. He reacted with accomplished haste, executing perfectly a routine he had only drilled once. Standing, he tugged his laptop free of its docking and dropped it into the bottom drawer of his desk. It adhered to the inside of the drawer with a dull thump. Leaving the drawer open, he crossed to two small filing cabinets opposite his desk. A black metal box sat atop each one. He pulled the tab on the first, waited for the hiss he'd been warned to expect, then did the same for the other. All this in less than ten seconds.

Scanlon had his cell phone out when the agents kicked in the door. They dropped him on his stomach, cuffed his hands behind his back, patted him down for weapons, then hoisted him to his feet. They marched him out of his office, ignoring the smoke coming out of his filing cabinet and his remarkably bare desk. They walked him past a dozen witnesses: some inside associates, aware of the full extent of his real estate rackets; some innocent employees, tenuously aware of Scanlon's two previous arrests. An SUV with tinted windows waited in the parking lot, surrounded by armored vehicles and men with dogs.

They pushed him into the back seat of the SUV, keeping his head free of the roof by yanking on his suit collar. He turned to say something to the offending agent. The words were lost in the chaos, but the look in Scanlon's eyes was obvious: too wide and hesitant to match the bluster in his voice. The agent slammed the door and the SUV drove off.

I knew none of this at the time; I wasn't there. I had to piece together details from multiple sources hours after the fact. At the time I was at a corner table in the window lounge of Top of the Hub, fifty stories above the Back Bay, trying to swallow my pounding heart.

Across from me sat Jeremy Brandt, a man from whom Mickey Scanlon might have learned about roguish charm. Brandt wore his silver hair and blue eyes like honors from the Queen. He had on a navy blazer over a tight T-shirt and chinos. He was sifting through a large leather portfolio with one hand, flicking by glossy blowups of the best photographs I'd taken over the last six years. I took another sip of ice water, wondering if I might swap out for something stronger.

Jeremy Brandt made headlines two years ago when he quit Control Center at CNN. Four months later, he surfaced as the owner of Flashpoint, a high-volume news blog. Most of America knew Flashpoint for its list articles and eye-catching photos. “Seven Things You Never Knew About the Human Brain”; “Eighteen Extreme Sports Stunts You Won't Believe Are Real”; and so forth. But the blog's ad revenue also financed a small but dedicated team of freelance journalists. Brandt poached hip young voices and distinguished veterans from The Atlantic, The Los Angeles Times, and elsewhere, trying to do with a staff of twelve what the media had fumbled with for the last twenty years: break meaningful stories to a mass audience.

And here he was, looking through my photos, hence my pulse pounding in my throat. Well, that and our occasional eye contact across the top of my portfolio. I'd told myself that morning, as I zipped up my pantsuit, that most of Brandt's legendary looks came from makeup artistry and TV magic. I hadn't been prepared for how good he'd look in a casual outfit. Or how good his voice would sound when it was pitched low enough for just the two of us. Or how good he'd smell.

Easy there, Mara.

Brandt closed the portfolio carefully, as if shutting the door on a sleeping child's room, and rested the binding on the edge of the table. He drummed the fingers of his left hand (no ring) on the leather and pursed his lips.

"These are good," he said.

I nodded, deflating into my comfortable Chiavari chair and resting my hand against my ice water. I could see it in the way he held his breath at the end of the sentence. Better luck next time. Thanks but no thanks.

"This isn't what I had in mind, though," he said.

I nodded again, tucking my hair behind my ears. "I tried to select as broad a variety as possible to showcase my range. But I've mostly been doing crime scene photography for the Tribune for the last four years. I do believe most of those skills would translate into any other field, so I'd …"

He smiled, letting me speak. I could see he wanted to say something but was too polite to interrupt, so I trailed off and let him jump in.

"I don't doubt it," he said. His voice hit that baritone register that soothed my nerves like warm oil. "But this isn't what I'm looking for. I know plenty of photographers already."

I looked away, my face warm. Of course he did. Brandt came up as a war correspondent in the Persian Gulf and Kosovo. He wouldn't need a freelancer from Boston who'd snapped a few car crashes. Realizing that, however, left me more confused than embarrassed.

He saw my brows knit and continued, both hands up. "This was my fault. I must not have been very clear in my first email. Of course this is what you'd think I meant."

Still nothing. My stomach climbed halfway up my throat. Spit it out, handsome.

"I wanted to see a portfolio of your writing."

The room seemed to grow still. I drew my hand off the table and clasped it in my lap, hoping he wouldn't see me shaking.

The waiter chose that moment to reappear. "Another of those, sir?" He gave a short bow toward Brandt's empty beer glass in that way waiters have.

Brandt nodded. "And you, ma'am?"

I found my voice somehow. "Manhattan."

"Any preference for your whiskey?"

"Yes. No. I don't care. Whatever you … you know."

The waiter gave another short bow, as if he received these orders every day, and sidled off, leaving me alone with Jeremy Brandt's gentle grin. "Not the answer you were expecting?" he asked.

"Not hardly," I said. I had covered the State House beat for the Boston Tribune up until five years ago, when I'd pulled a stunt that the paper had threatened to fire me over. The union and the owners had reached a compromise: I could keep working for the paper, but I would never write another word. Gary, the metro desk editor, had kept me on as a photographer. But the work had been drying up over the last four years: more freelancers, fewer pages per issue, less money to go around. All of which led to this midday interview with Jeremy Brandt.

But no, not the sort of interview I'd been expecting at all. "I hate to talk you out of your brilliant idea," I said, "but you know I haven't written for the Tribune for some time."

He nodded. "And I heard about why. That's what inspired me to take a look at you. I need writers with that sort of initiative. Writers with the stones to point out the obvious, no matter who it might embarrass."

"I didn't realize the story had traveled that far." I felt the blush flowing down to my collarbone again. The encouragement in Brandt's eyes didn't help any.

"I heard it from Saul Kirkadian, actually." My mentor at the Tribune, he'd left last August after more than forty years on the beat. "In full disclosure, he was my first choice. But he gave me your name instead and told me why I should give you a look. I trust his judgment."

"And I trust yours."

My Manhattan arrived on a literal silver platter, next to Brandt's beer. We took our drinks and toasted. Every moment of eye contact between us ended in mutual smiles, as if we were in on some private joke.

"I'm recruiting feature writers in all the big metros," he said. "Boston, Atlanta, LA, Chicago. People with experience and a viewpoint, not just content mills."

"So you're not looking for 'Twenty Reasons Boston is Better Than New York'?"

"There aren't any." He grinned. "But no, I want feature copy. The sort of articles you'd write for the Tribune, if you had your way. And more of them too. Ours is still a high-volume business."

"You'll get them."

"Good. The hours might get crazy."

"That's fine." I kept nodding, then checked my head. My hours didn't entirely belong to me; the class I taught in Cambridge at Sandy's self-defense school was another obligation. "There are a couple of evenings—"

Brandt held a hand up. "You set your own schedule. So long as copy gets to the editors on time, I don't care what else you do."

"Really?" The release of tension had left me feeling playful. "You don't want me signing a morals clause?"

Another moment of lingering eye contact. "I don't think either of us would last very long with a morals clause."

I lowered my eyes to my drink and stomped on the brakes in my head. Pleasant enough to dwell on what Brandt was doing to my imagination—and what he might do to other parts of me—but that was as far as it could go. This man was, potentially, my future boss. I'd screwed my life up in the past by going after the wrong older man.

My cell phone vibrated in my purse, trembling against my leg. I kicked it aside. Whoever it was could wait.

The check came; Brandt paid it. We stood, gathered our things, and went for the exit. I overheard murmurs and saw a few heads snap up as we passed: is that? Do you think? And who's she? I smirked at the notion of appearing in the celebrity pages, before remembering I didn't want anyone knowing about my job hunt. Shit. Hopefully no one recognized me.

"Do you have a writing portfolio?" Brandt asked as we reached the street.


"Send it to me, and we'll do this once more."

We set a follow-up for the day after next. As a metro photographer, I was notionally on call throughout my entire shift. In practice, the Tribune needed me less and less every day. I could spare the time for another date with a silver fox. Interview, Mara. Not a date, an interview.

"I'll see you then." We shook hands, his fingers warm against my palm. Then I jogged to where I'd parked my car, heels clacking on the pavement.

While the maverick captain of new media had been flattering me over drinks, I'd missed one text and one call. I didn't recognize the phone number on the call, so I left it alone. The text was from Gary, an assignment he wanted me to cover. Three-alarm fire, Vassall Street in Quincy.

And like that, the pleasant flush of the afternoon vanished. My brain queued up a list of items to consider: traffic at this time of day, crowds gawking at the fire, who I knew among South Shore first responders.

Playtime's over; back to business.

authorJohn Perich 2

While working in a variety of Boston-area tech startups, John Perich has still found time to write and publish several gritty crime thrillers, particularly the Mara Cunningham series (Too Close To Miss in 2011; Too Hard to Handle in 2012).


His latest book is the mystery/thriller, Too Late to Run.

For More Information

Visit John Perich’s website.

Connect with John on Facebook and Twitter.

Find out more about John at Goodreads.

Visit John’s blog.

More books by John Perich.

Contact John.

Saturday, December 13, 2014

Book Tour Review: Antique Magic (Alicia Trent #1) by Eileen Harris

Antique dealer Alicia Trent is hired to appraise a huge collection of treasures hoarded by a woman who has recently died in the town where Alicia grew up.

The huge old house poses mystery after mystery from the moment she arrives, but the stakes become deadly when murder is added to the mix. The question then becomes, can she stay alive long enough to unmask the killer?




Wings e Press I Amazon I Barnes & Noble

review*** 5/5 Stars ***

Living in the South, it's hard not to like, shop, or collection antiques. I use to go antiquing with my mom and grandma on the weekends. All sorts of baubles and treasures. Some could have been magical, I'm sure. Alicia Trent grew up with an antique appraiser mother and has followed in her footsteps. A local elderly lady has passed and her family has assigned Alicia of setting up the sale of the huge, gigantic, and eclectic collection of items she has crammed into her large home. Alicia moves in, meets the two sons of the passed woman, and stumbles on some murderous and magical secrets. The unraveling of the family's tale, personal struggles, and present is extremely fascinating. Her run ins with trouble, life or death that is, and her discoveries made this novel a quick page turner. Toss in a little romance, some side character stories, and the reader gets a satisfying read.


Without consciously making a decision to do so, I grabbed my robe and headed for the door. If the thief was in the house, it might be my chance to identify him or her. One last glance at the globe showed the black was now mixed with a lot of orange. It looked like a Halloween decoration.

I turned off the light in the room, then quietly unlocked and opened my door. A flashlight would be a big help, but mine was packed in my suitcase. This was the first time I’d needed it. I eased out into the dark hall. A nightlight plugged in at the top of the stairs made a dim glow and I started in that direction. Moving slowly, I listened intently for any unusual noise. Everything seemed quiet and peaceful. I didn’t think anyone had stayed overnight in the house except Naomi and me. The stairs were solid and didn’t make a sound as I crept down. Time moved in slow motion and it seemed to take forever to reach the bottom. Once there, I began making my way to the living room. We always turned off the electronic security on that door at night since there were no potential buyers coming in and out after five. Even though I still hadn’t seen anything suspicious, somehow the atmosphere seemed wrong. Danger seemed to lurk in every dark corner. I was anxious to make sure the items displayed for viewing hadn’t been disturbed. Moving into the room and closing the door seemed to take forever. I couldn’t wait to get the light turned on. At first glance everything looked fine. Walking around the items for a closer look, I still didn’t see any evidence of tampering. Maybe I was overreacting and chasing ghosts. I decided to return to my room, but instead I veered into the study for a quick look. I wasn’t quite ready to admit my fears were just my nerves playing tricks. This time I hadn’t done the smart thing and called for Dan. He had to be tired of my crying wolf and not finding any evidence. I’d need a darn good reason before choosing to disrupt the entire household again.

At first the study also seemed undisturbed, but as my eyes adjusted, my heart skipped a beat. Someone had pushed the button that moved the desk aside. The light on the stairs leading down into the passageway had been turned on. Someone had entered the house, but I couldn’t call Dan from here and didn’t want to lose the chance to discover the identity of the intruder. All of a sudden my policy of not crying wolf didn’t seem so wise. I picked up a large letter opener from the desk and started down the stairs. The cloying feeling of danger increased with each step. The second bookcase on the left hand side of the hall was moved aside, revealing a passage I hadn’t known existed. The walls in this new passage were lined withartwork. Creeping silently along, I noticed that the art consisted of a variety of styles. At a quick glance I saw pen-and-ink, charcoals, watercolors and oils. I wouldn’t know what all was there until I had time to investigate. Right now my attention was focused on finding out who was down here and why. The passage climbed steadily upward. There didn’t seem to be any side doors, at least none that were obvious, until the end of the passage. Here one door opened to the right. By now my sense of direction had become confused and I wasn’t sure what part of the house this passage ran through, but it might be somewhere on the second floor.


From living off the grid in the Arizona desert, Eileen has moved to the woods of upstate New York. She has authored a standalone adventure novel called Desert Shadow. She is also the author of Alicia Trent Series. The Black Cane : Dowager Diaries Book 1 is her latest release.

Stalk The Author


Friday, December 12, 2014

Review: Archer's Voice by Mia Sheridan

This book may be unsuitable for people under 17 years of age due to its use of sexual content, drug and alcohol use, and/or violence.
Title: Archer's Voice
by Mia Sheridan
Published by Mia Sheridan on January 25th, 2014
Genres: contemporary, new adult, romance
Pages: 345
Format: eBook

When Bree Prescott arrives in the sleepy, lakeside town of Pelion, Maine, she hopes against hope that this is the place where she will finally find the peace she so desperately seeks. On her first day there, her life collides with Archer Hale, an isolated man who holds a secret agony of his own. A man no one else sees.

Archer's Voice is the story of a woman chained to the memory of one horrifying night and the man whose love is the key to her freedom. It is the story of a silent man who lives with an excruciating wound and the woman who helps him find his voice. It is the story of suffering, fate, and the transformative power of love.

THIS IS A STAND-ALONE SIGN OF LOVE NOVEL, INSPIRED BY SAGITTARIUS. New Adult Contemporary Romance: Due to strong language and sexual content, this book is not intended for readers under the age of 18.

So I live in this little bubble and didn’t even know this book existed until I heard J. Sterling raving about it at Penned Con. I had to have it! Took me a few months to get to it but oh man it was so worth it! Archer’s Voice is hands down one of the best contemporary romances I have ever had the pleasure of reading. I always find that some of the contemporary books have completely unrealistic situations…the kind where I just roll my eyes and think “yeah frickin right.” This beyond exceeded my expectations. I even avoided looking at other reviews so I wouldn’t know what I was getting into. This is one of those books that left me with a renewed outlook on life. I’ve never been one to really judge someone but have never gone out of my way to befriend someone that needed it. It was so incredibly moving and I’m even crying a bit writing this because it was so beautiful.

Bree leaves her home in Ohio and shows up to a small town called Pelion. She begins this friendship with the towns loner, Archer. They both have baggage and heartbreaking pasts that makes them the perfect pair. Just watching their relationship unfold was poetry…absolutely perfect. As to be expected, Archer struggled with many things he wasn’t accustomed to. It was real and raw. I was planning on savoring the last few chapters but Mia had other plans! I couldn’t leave without finding out what happens. I was so close to sending the author another note and screaming at her! But all was set right and I’m left with a huge hangover.

Mia Sheridan is a New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestselling author. Her passion is weaving true love stories about people destined to be together. Mia lives in Cincinnati, Ohio with her husband. They have four children here on earth and one in heaven.

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

Ren's Top 14 Books of 2014

I'm totally jumping the gun on this one even though 2014 isn't over yet. I don't foresee finishing another one with all the craziness going on right now. My list is pretty easy this year considering I only read 30 books :( I call 2014 the year of the DNF's....I lied. That's a little inaccurate. There are some books that I still haven't finished that I would like to finish but haven't gotten around to it. D.T. Dyllin keeps me busy with proof reads.

Without any further adieu, here is my list...not in any particular order.

Broken Skies by Theresa Kay


Generation X: The Rising by Desiree DeOrto


Evolution: ANGEL by S.A. Huchton


The Space Between by Kristie Cook


Books 1&2 in the Forever series

by Mary A. Wasowski



Uninhibited by Melody Grace


While it Lasts by Abbi Glines


Hopeless by Colleen Hoover


Redemption by Amy Miles


Branded by Abi Ketner and Melissa Kalicicki


The Replacement by Rachael Wade


E-Day by D.T. Dyllin


Dear Emily by Trudy Stiles

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Opposition by Jennifer L. Armentrout