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Monday, August 31, 2020

Review: Emerald Blaze by Ilona Andrews

Author: Ilona Andrews
Publisher: Avon
Publication Date: August 2020

As Prime magic users, Catalina Baylor and her sisters have extraordinary powers—powers their ruthless grandmother would love to control. Catalina can earn her family some protection working as deputy to the Warden of Texas, overseeing breaches of magic law in the state, but that has risks as well. When House Baylor is under attack and monsters haunt her every step, Catalina is forced to rely on handsome, dangerous Alessandro Sagredo, the Prime who crushed her heart. 

The nightmare that Alessandro has fought since childhood has come roaring back to life, but now Catalina is under threat. Not even his lifelong quest for revenge will stop him from keeping her safe, even if every battle could be his last. Because Catalina won't rest until she stops the use of the illicit, power-granting serum that's tearing their world apart. 


Emerald Blaze is the 5th book in the Hidden Legacy series and the second to feature Catalina and Alesandro.  I absolutely loved this series.  It has great characters, lots of great humor, magic and  romance.    This time around, Alesandro is back and is tasked with keeping Catalina safe from an assassin as well as helping her figure out what is going on in "The Pit".  The Pit is a place where magical remnants have been discarded and something inside is killing people.  

I definitely enjoyed this one more than Sapphire Flames.  I felt like Catalina and Alesandro had a LOT more chemistry this time around. I ended up loving their banter and that ending was so sweet.  Alesandro definitely grew up.   Catalina has also matured a lot. I was also happy that the angst didn't last too long.  I enjoyed the mystery.  The monsters were pretty cool as well as what the creature was in the pit.  The last battle scene was really fun. 

 Of course, we get to see the other members of House Baylor.  They just add so much to the series. Grandma Frida is my favorite. As in the last one, the epilogue was kind of a cliffhanger.  I am so sad that I have to wait until next year to read the conclusion to Catalina's trilogy.  I highly recommend this one as well as the series.



Sunday, August 30, 2020

Blog Tour: Review& Excerpt of When I Was You by Amber Garza


Author: Amber Garza 
ISBN:     9780778361046
Publication Date: August 25, 2020 
Publisher: MIRA Books

YOU meets FATAL ATTRACTION in this up-all-night psychological thriller about a lonely empty-nester's growing obsession with a young mother who shares her name.

It all begins on an ordinary fall morning, when Kelly Medina gets a call from her son's pediatrician to confirm her upcoming "well-baby" appointment. It's a cruel mistake; her son left for college a year ago, and Kelly has never felt so alone. The receptionist quickly apologizes: there's another mother in town named Kelly Medina, and she must have gotten their numbers switched.

But Kelly can't stop thinking about the woman who shares her name. Lives in her same town. Has a son she can still hold, and her whole life ahead of her. She can't help looking for her: at the grocery store, at the gym, on social media. When Kelly just happens to bump into the single mother outside that pediatrician's office, it's simple curiosity getting the better of her.

Their unlikely friendship brings Kelly a renewed sense of purpose, taking care of this young woman and her adorable baby boy. But that friendship quickly turns to obsession, and when one Kelly disappears, well, the other one may know why.

BUY LINKS:

My Thoughts:

When I Was You is a fairly quick psychological thriller that kept me engaged throughout.  It involves Kelly Medina, who gets a phone call from her old pediatrician that she has an appointment for her infant.  The problem? Her son isn't an infant.  Realizing that there is another woman in town with her exact same name, empty-nester Kelly seeks out the woman out of curiosity.

I don't want to talk plot too much.  There are a couple of surprises and twists.  While I did guess a few of them,, I didn't put all of the pieces together.  Kelly is a very unreliable character and I spent a lot of the book wondering if she was seeing crazy. The ending was a complete surprise.    I do recommend this one.


Here's a sneak peek:

Chapter One

It was a Monday morning in early October when I first heard about you. I was getting out of the shower when my phone rang. After throwing on a robe and cinching it, I ran into my bedroom, snatching my cell off the nightstand. 
Unknown number.
Normally, I let those go. But I’d already run all the way in here, and I thought maybe it was a call from Dr. Hillerman’s office. 
“Hello?” I answered, breathless. Goosebumps rose on my pale flesh, so I pulled the robe tighter around me. My sopping wet hair dripped down my back. 
“Is this Kelly Medina?” 
Great. A salesperson. “Yes,” I answered, wishing I hadn’t picked up.
“Hi, Kelly, this is Nancy from Dr. Cramer’s office. I’m calling to remind you of your well-baby appointment this Friday at ten am.” 
“Well-baby?” I let out a surprised laugh. “You’re about nineteen years too late.” 
“Excuse me?” Nancy asked, clearly confused.     
 “My son isn’t a baby,” I explained. “He’s nineteen.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Nancy immediately replied. I could hear the clicking of a keyboard.  “I apologize. I called the wrong Kelly Medina.” 
“There’s another Kelly Medina in Folsom?” My maiden name had been Smith. There are a million other Kelly Smiths in the world. In California, even. But since I’d married Rafael, I’d never met another Kelly Medina. Until now.
Until you.
“Yes. Her child is a new patient.”
It felt like yesterday when my child was a new patient. I remembered sitting in the waiting room of Dr. Cramer’s office, holding my tiny newborn, waiting for the nurse to call my name. 
 “I have no idea how this happened. It’s like your numbers got switched in the system or something,” Nancy muttered, and I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or herself. “Again, I’m so sorry.”
I assured her it was fine, and hung up. My hair was still wet from the shower, but instead of blow-drying it I headed downstairs to make some tea first. On my way, I passed Aaron’s room. The door was closed, so I pressed it open with my palm. The wood was cold against my skin. Shivering, I took in his neatly made bed, the movie posters tacked to the wall, the darkened desktop computer in the corner.
Leaning against the doorframe of Aaron’s room, my mind flew back to the day he left for college. I remembered his broad smile, his sparkling eyes. He’d been so anxious to leave here. To leave me. I should’ve been happy for him. He was doing what I’d raised him to do. 
Boys were supposed to grow up and leave. 
In my head I knew that. But in my heart it was hard to let him go. 
After closing Aaron’s door, I headed down to the kitchen. 
The house was silent. It used to be filled with noise – Aaron’s little feet stomping down the hallway, his sound effects as he played with toys, his chattering as he got older. Now it was always quiet. Especially during the week when Rafael stayed in the Bay Area for work. Aaron had been gone over a year. You’d think I’d be used to it by now. But, actually, it seemed to get worse over time. The constant silence. 
The phone call had thrown me. For a second it felt like I’d gone back in time, something I longed for most days. When Aaron was born everyone told me to savor all the moments because it went by too quickly. It was hard for me to imagine. I hadn’t had the easiest life growing up, and it certainly hadn’t flown by. And the nine months I was pregnant with Aaron had gone on forever, every day longer than the one before. 
But they were right.
Aaron’s childhood was fleeting. The moments were elusive like a butterfly, practically impossible to catch. And now it was gone. He was a man. And I was alone.
Rafael kept encouraging me to find a job to fill my time, but I’d already tried that. When Aaron first left, I applied for a bunch of jobs. Since I’d been out of work for so long, no one wanted to hire me. That’s when Christine suggested I volunteer somewhere. So I started helping out at a local food bank, handing out food once a week and occasionally doing a little administrative stuff. I enjoyed it, but it wasn’t enough. It barely filled any of my time. Besides, I was one of many volunteers. I wasn’t needed. Not the way Aaron had needed me when he was a child. 
When he left, the Kelly I’d always known ceased to exist. Vanished into thin air. I was merely a ghost now, haunting my house, the streets, the town.  
As the water boiled, I thought about you. Thought about how lucky you were to have a baby and your whole life ahead of you. I wondered what you were doing right now. Not sitting alone in your big, silent house, I bet. No, you were probably chasing your cute little baby around your sunny living room, the floor littered with toys, as he crawled on all fours and laughed.
Was your child a boy? The lady on the phone didn’t say, but that’s what I pictured. A chubby, smiling little boy like my Aaron. 
The kettle squealed, and I flinched. I poured the boiling water in a mug and steam rose from it, circling the air in front of my face. Tossing in the tea bag, I breathed it in, leaning my back against the cool tile counter. The picture window in front of me revealed our perfectly manicured front yard – bright green grass lined with rose bushes. I’d always been particular about the roses. When Aaron was a kid he always wanted to help with the pruning, but I never let him. Afraid he’d mess them up, I guess. Seemed silly now. 
Heart pinching, I blew out a breath.
I wondered about your yard. What did it look like? Did you have roses? I wondered if you’d let your son help you prune them. I wondered if you’d make the same mistakes I had.
Bringing the mug to my lips, I took a tiny sip of the hot tea. It was mint, my favorite. I allowed the flavors to sit on my tongue a minute before swallowing it down. The refrigerator hummed. The ice shifted in the ice maker. My shoulders tensed slightly. I rolled them out, taking another sip. 
Shoving off the counter, I was headed toward the stairs when my cell buzzed inside my pocket. My pulse spiked. It couldn’t be Rafael. He was a professor and his first class had already started.
Aaron? 
Nope. It was a text from Christine. 
Going to yoga this morning? 
I’d already showered. I was about to tackle my latest organization project. Today was the kitchen pantry. Last week I’d bought a bunch of new containers and bins. Friday I’d spent the day labeling all of them. After taking the weekend off since Rafael was home, I was anxious to continue with it. I’d already organized several closets downstairs, but my plan was to work my way through all the closets and cabinets in the house. 
Usually I loved yoga, but I had way too much to do today.  
No, I typed. Then bit my lip. Backspaced. Stared at the phone. My own reflection emerged on the slick screen - disheveled hair, pale face, dark circles under the eyes. 
You need to get out more. Exercise. It’s not healthy to sit in the house all day. Rafael’s voice echoed in my head.  
The organizing would still be here tomorrow. Besides, who was I kidding? I’d probably only spend a couple of hours organizing before abandoning my project to read online blogs and articles, or dive into the latest murder mystery I was reading.
I typed, yes, then sent it and hurried to my room to get ready. 
Thirty minutes later, I was parking in front of the gym. When I stepped out, a cool breeze whisked over my arms. After three scorching hot summer months, I welcomed it. Fall had always been my favorite season. I relished the festiveness of it. Pumpkins, apples, rustic colors. But mostly it was the leaves falling and being raked away. The bareness of the trees. The shedding of the old to make room for the new. An end, but also a beginning.
Although, we weren’t quite there yet. The leaves were still green, and by afternoon the air would be warm. But in the mornings and evenings we got a tiny sip of a fall, enough to make me thirsty for more. 
Securing the gym bag on my shoulder, I walked briskly through the lot. Once inside, it was even colder. The AC blasted as if it was a hundred-degree day. That’s okay. It gave me more of an incentive to break a sweat. Smiling at the receptionist, I pulled out my keys for her to scan my card. Only my card wasn’t hanging from my key ring. 
I fished around in my bag, but it wasn’t there either. Flushing, I offered the bored receptionist an apologetic smile. “I seem to have misplaced my tag. Can you look me up? Kelly Medina?’
Her eyes widened. “Funny. There was another lady in here earlier today with the same name.”
My heart pounded. I’d been attending this gym for years and never had anyone mentioned you before. I wondered how long you’d worked out here. “Is she still here?” My gaze scoured the lobby as if I might recognize you. 
“No. She was here super early.”
Of course you were. I used to be, too, when Aaron was an infant. 
“Okay. You’re all checked in, Kelly,” the receptionist said, buzzing me in. 
Clutching my gym bag, I made my way up the stairs toward the yoga room, thoughts of you flooding my mind. A few young women walked next to me, wearing tight tank tops and pants, gym bags hanging off their shoulders. They were laughing and chatting loudly, their long ponytails bouncing behind their heads. I tried to say excuse me, to move past them, but they couldn’t hear me. Impatient, I bit my lip and walked slowly behind them. Finally, I made it to the top. They headed toward the cardio machines, and I pressed open the door to the yoga room.
I spotted Christine already sitting on her mat. Her blond hair was pulled back into a perfectly coifed ponytail. Her eyes were bright and her lips were shiny. I smoothed down my unruly brown hair and licked my dry lips. 
She waved me over with a large smile. “You made it.”
“Yep.” I dropped my mat and bag next to hers. 
“I wasn’t sure. It’s been awhile.”
Shrugging, I sat down on my mat. “Been busy.”
“Oh, I totally get that.” She waved away my words with a flick of her slender wrist. “Maddie and Mason have had a bazillion activities lately. I’ve been running around town like a crazy person. I honestly feel like I’m going insane.”
“Sounds rough,” I muttered, slipping off my flip-flops. This was the problem with getting married and having a kid so young. Most of my friends were still raising families. 
“I know, right? I can’t wait until they’re adults and I can do whatever I want.”
“Yeah, it’s the best,” I said sarcastically. 
Her mouth dropped. “Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t talking about you…” Her pale cheeks turned pink. “I know how much you miss Aaron. It’s just…” 
I shook my head and offered her a smile “Relax. I get it.”
Christine and I met years ago in a yoga class. She’s one of those women with almost no self-awareness. It’s what first drew to me to her. I loved how raw and real she was. Other people shied away from her, unable to handle her filter-less statements. But I found her refreshing and, honestly, pretty entertaining. 
 “I remember how insane it was when Aaron was younger,” I said. “One year he signed up for baseball and basketball. They overlapped for a bit, and I swear I was taking him to a game or practice like every day.”
“Yes!” Christine said excitedly, relief evident in her expression. “Sometimes it’s all just too much.”
“Yeah, sometimes it is,” I agreed. 
The class was about to start and the room was filling up. It was mainly women, but there were some men. Most of them were with their wives or girlfriends. I’d tried getting Rafael to come with me before, but he laughed as if the idea was preposterous. 
“Remember when there were only a few of us in this class?” Christine asked, her gaze sweeping the room.
I nodded, glancing around. There were so many new people I didn’t know. Not that I was surprised. Folsom had grown a lot in the ten years I’d lived here. New people moved here every day.
Staring at all the strangers crowding around us, I shivered, my thoughts drifting back to you. We hadn’t even met, and yet I felt like I knew you. We had the same name, the same gym, the same pediatrician for our child. 
It felt like kismet. Fate had brought you here to me. I was certain of it. 
But why? 



About the author:


Amber Garza has had a passion for the written word since she was a child making books out of notebook paper and staples. Her hobbies include reading and singing. Coffee and wine are her drinks of choice (not necessarily in that order). She writes while blaring music, and talks about her characters like they're real people. She lives with her husband and two kids in Folsom, California, which is—no joke—home to another Amber Garza.



SOCIAL:
TWITTER: @ambermg1

Saturday, August 29, 2020

August Mini Musings



Brave New Earl:  This was a really sweet historical romance.  I loved how both main characters' initial impression of each other was so wrong and changed over time   The other characters in the book were fun and engaging.  This was a great start to the series and I want to continue onto the next book.

The Last Resort:  I ended up with a "meh" feeling at the end of this book.  I almost DNF'd it.  The characters were Al extremely unlikable.  There were a few twists, but not enough to save the book for me.  I don't recommend this one.

Cowboy Trouble:  I thought this was a fun romance.  It hit all of the feel good marks. It also had a lot of fun laugh out loud moments. I did enjoy the main couple.  There is a little mystery, but it was pretty easy to figure out the solution.  It's the first in a series and I do recommend it.

Doom and Broom: This is the second book in the "Spellbound" series.  I enjoyed ti immensely.  Emma is such a fun character.  Even though she is a new witch living in an enchanted town, she comes across as relatable.  I highly recommend this series.

Catherine House:  This book was a complete mess.  I honestly have no idea I don't recommend it.  It was pages and pages of the main character talking about what she was eating, who she was sleeping with, and how much time she spent cutting class.  It made no sense.  The ending made no sense and the "reveal" made no sense.  I don't recommend this one.

Clique Bait;  This is one of the better high school mysteries that I have read recently.  While not perfect, I did like the main character.  I could understand her wanting to get revenge.  But I felt like she learned a lot in the end. I do recommend this one.

Spotlight: Excerpt of The Last Story of Mina Lee by Nancy Jooyoun Kim


Author: Nancy Jooyoun Kim
ISBN: 9780778310174
Publication Date: September 1, 2020
Publisher: Park Row Books

THE LAST STORY OF MINA LEE (on sale: September 1, 2020; Park Row Books; Hardcover; $27.99 US/ $34.99 CAN). opens when Margot Lee’s mother, Mina, doesn’t return her calls. It’s a mystery to twenty-six-year-old Margot, until she visits her childhood apartment in Koreatown, Los Angeles, and finds that her mother has suspiciously died. The discovery sends Margot digging through the past, unraveling the tenuous and invisible strings that held together her single mother’s life as a Korean War orphan and an undocumented immigrant, only to realize how little she truly knew about her mother.

Interwoven with Margot's present-day search is Mina's story of her first year in Los Angeles as she navigates the promises and perils of the American myth of reinvention. While she's barely earning a living by stocking shelves at a Korean grocery store, the last thing Mina ever expects is to fall in love. But that love story sets in motion a series of events that have consequences for years to come, leading up to the truth of what happened the night of her death.

Buy Links: 

Enjoy this excerpt!

Margot
2014


Margot's final conversation with her mother had seemed so uneventful, so ordinary—another choppy bilingual plod. Half-understandable. 
Business was slow again today. Even all the Korean businesses downtown are closing. 
What did you eat for dinner?
Everyone is going to Target now, the big stores. It costs the same and it's cleaner.              
Margot imagined her brain like a fishing net with the loosest of weaves as she watched the Korean words swim through. She had tried to tighten the net before, but learning another language, especially her mother's tongue, frustrated her. Why didn't her mother learn to speak English?
But that last conversation was two weeks ago. And for the past few days, Margot had only one question on her mind: Why didn't her mother pick up the phone?

****

Since Margot and Miguel had left Portland, the rain had been relentless and wild. Through the windshield wipers and fogged glass, they only caught glimpses of fast food and gas stations, motels and billboards, premium outlets and "family fun centers." Margot’s hands were stiff from clenching the steering wheel. The rain had started an hour ago, right after they had made a pit stop in north Portland to see the famous 31-foot-tall Paul Bunyan sculpture with his cartoonish smile, red-and-white checkered shirt on his barrel chest, his hands resting on top of an upright axe.
Earlier that morning, Margot had stuffed a backpack and a duffel with a week's worth of clothes, picked up Miguel from his apartment with two large suitcases and three houseplants, and merged onto the freeway away from Seattle, driving Miguel down for his big move to Los Angeles. They'd stop in Daly City to spend the night at Miguel's family's house, which would take about ten hours to get to. At the start of the drive, Miguel had been lively, singing along to "Don't Stop Believing" and joking about all the men he would meet in LA. But now, almost four hours into the road trip, Miguel was silent with his forehead in his palm, taking deep breaths as if trying hard not to think about anything at all.
"Everything okay?" Margot asked.
"I'm just thinking about my parents."
"What about your parents?" Margot lowered her foot on the gas.
"Lying to them," he said.
"About why you're really moving down to LA?" The rain splashed down like a waterfall. Miguel had taken a job offer at an accounting firm in a location more conducive to his dreams of working in theatre. For the last two years, they had worked together at a nonprofit for people with disabilities. She was as an administrative assistant; he crunched numbers in finance. She would miss him, but she was happy for him, too. He would finally finish writing his play while honing his acting skills with classes at night. "The theatre classes? The plays that you write? The Grindr account?"
"About it all."
"Do you ever think about telling them?"
"All the time." He sighed. "But it's easier this way."
"Do you think they know?"
"Of course, they do. But..." He brushed his hand through his hair. "Sometimes, agreeing to the same lie is what makes a family family, Margot."
"Ha. Then what do you call people who agree to the same truth?"
"Uh, scientists?"
She laughed, having expected him to say friends. Gripping the wheel, she caught the sign for Salem.
"Do you need to use the bathroom?" she asked.
"I'm okay. We're gonna stop in Eugene, right?"
"Yeah, should be another hour or so."
"I'm kinda hungry." Rustling in his pack on the floor of the backseat, he found an apple, which he rubbed clean with the edge of his shirt. "Want a bite?"
"Not now, thanks."
His teeth crunched into the flesh, the scent cracking through the odor of wet floor mats and warm vents. Margot was struck by a memory of her mother's serene face—the downcast eyes above the high cheekbones, the relaxed mouth—as she peeled an apple with a paring knife, conjuring a continuous ribbon of skin. The resulting spiral held the shape of its former life. As a child, Margot would delicately hold this peel like a small animal in the palm of her hand, this proof that her mother could be a kind of magician, an artist who told an origin story through scraps—this is the skin of a fruit, this is its smell, this is its color.
"I hope the weather clears up soon," Miguel said, interrupting the memory. "It gets pretty narrow and windy for a while. There's a scary point right at the top of California where the road is just zigzagging while you're looking down cliffs. It's like a test to see if you can stay on the road."
"Oh, God,” Margot said. “Let's not talk about it anymore."
As she refocused on the rain-slicked road, the blurred lights, the yellow and white lines like yarn unspooling, Margot thought about her mother who hated driving on the freeway, her mother who no longer answered the phone. Where was her mother?
The windshield wipers squeaked, clearing sheets of rain.
"What about you?" Miguel asked. "Looking forward to seeing your mom? When did you see her last?"
Margot's stomach dropped. "Last Christmas," she said. "Actually, I've been trying to call her for the past few days to let her know, to let her know that we would be coming down." Gripping the wheel, she sighed. "I didn't really want to tell her because I wanted this to be a fun trip, but then I felt bad, so..."
"Is everything okay?"
"She hasn't been answering the phone."
"Hmm." He shifted in his seat. "Maybe her phone battery died?"
"It's a landline. Both landlines—at work and at home."
"Maybe she's on vacation?"
"She never goes on vacation." The windshield fogged, revealing smudges and streaks, past attempts to wipe it clean. She cranked up the air inside.
"Hasn't she ever wanted to go somewhere?"
"Yosemite and the Grand Canyon. I don't know why, but she's always wanted to go there."
"It's a big ol' crack in the ground, Margot. Why wouldn't she want to see it? It's God's crack."
"It's some kind of Korean immigrant rite of passage. National Parks, reasons to wear hats and khaki, stuff like that. It's like America America."
"I bet she's okay,” Miguel said. “Maybe she's just been busier than usual, right? We'll be there soon enough."
"You're probably right. I'll call her again when we stop."
A heaviness expanded inside her chest. She fidgeted with the radio dial but caught only static with an occasional glimpse of a commercial or radio announcer's voice.
Her mother was fine. They would all be fine.
With Miguel in LA, she'd have more reasons to visit now.
The road lay before them like a peel of fruit. The windshield wipers hacked away the rivers that fell from the sky.


Excerpted from The Last Story of Mina Lee by Nancy Jooyoun Kim, Copyright © 2020 by Nancy Jooyoun Kim Published by Park Row Books




Author Bio: 


Born and raised in Los Angeles, Nancy Jooyoun Kim is a graduate of UCLA and the MFA Creative Writing Program at the University of Washington, Seattle. Her work has appeared in the Los Angeles Review of Books, Guernica, The Rumpus, Electric Literature, Asian American Writers’ Workshop’s The Margins, The Offing, the blogs of Prairie Schooner and Kenyon Review, and elsewhere. Her essay, “Love (or Live Cargo),” was performed for NPR/PRI’s Selected Shorts in 2017 with stories by Viet Thanh Nguyen, Phil Klay, and Etgar Keret. THE LAST STORY OF MINA LEE is her first novel.

Social Links:
Twitter: @njooyounkim
Instagram: @njooyounkim



Friday, August 28, 2020

Blog Tour: Review & Excerpt of Wrong Side of the Storm by Bryna Butler


Author: Bryna Butler
Narrator: Michael Mola
Length: 3 hours 2 minutes
Publisher: Swancrest Publishing2019
Genre: Paranormal Mystery; YA
Series: Mothman Mysteries, Book 2
Release date: Jul. 23, 2019

Synopsis: Where will you be when all hail breaks loose?

When a mysterious new player wields a deadly storm to force the men in black into lockdown, teens Eric and Bridget are suddenly separated. With Bridget on the inside and Eric on the outside, the two race to beat the clock and open the doors before the suits make the ultimate sacrifice to prevent the base from falling into the wrong hands. 

Get ready for a quirky thrill ride full of spunky book blogger rants, sneaky twists, liberally-used nicknames, smoldering smirks from Mothman, and even a hippy vampire. Hold on kiddos, it's Mothman verses the Weather Machine! 


The Mothman Mysteries are set in the same universe with the same characters, but the books are stand-alone mysteries and can be heard in any order. Considered a clean teen series, suitable for pre-teens. A humorous young adult paranormal mystery for fans of Doctor Who and The Dresden Files.

My thoughts:

Wrong Side of the Storm is the second book in the Mothman Mysteries series.  This time around, Someone has unleashed a weird storm that may end up causing the Men in Black to lose their headquarters.  Eric and Bridget must figure out who is behind the attack and stop it before it's too late.

I thought this was a solid follow-up to Wrong Side of the Grave.  This time around, we get into Bridget's head a bit more.  I liked that part of the story.  We also get to see a bit more of the Men in Black operations.  Duey is also back and he is definitely a favorite character of mine.  I loved his humor.  The mystery was solid.  My only complaint was the length.  This one felt shorter than the first book.  I wish it had been a bit longer.  The audio production was as good as the first book, so I highly recommend that format. 

I hope the author will continue with this series.  I will be recommending it to any YA Sci-fi fan that I know.










About the Author: Bryna Butler

Bryna Butler is a journalism-trained writer having authored hundreds of articles and financial publications before taking the leap into fiction in 2011. Her first book, Of Sun & Moon, skyrocketed to number one on Kindle top free charts in multiple categories in the U.S. and U.K. when the title went to free status in 2014 and again held #1 Teen Romantic Mystery on the Kindle Free charts in the U.S. in February 2020. The book was also featured in The Morganville Vampires web series. Butler’s work is free of profanity and mature content making them safe reads for pre-teen as well as teen readers. In her latest series, the Mothman Mysteries, she creates an unexpected and delightful twist on the urban legend from her youth, the winged Mothman of Point Pleasant, West Virginia.
Butler’s love of storytelling leads her heart to many fandoms. You will often find her online gushing about the latest movie/TV show/book or fondly reminiscing about the time she met Charlaine Harris and didn’t faint.


About the Narrator: James Fouhey

Michael Mola is a writer, editor, producer, director, voice over artist, and narrator with over 50 titles to his credit. Michael voiced Wrong Side of the Storm, the latest installment in the Mothman Mysteries series.

Thursday, August 27, 2020

Blog Tour: Excerpt of Here to Stay by Adriana Herrera



Author: Adriana Herrera
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Imprint: Carina Press
On-Sale: August 25, 2020
Format: Ebook (Trade Paperback & Audiobook formats also available!)
Ebook ISBN: 9780369700926
Ebook Price: $3.99 USD
Book Description: “Hot, heartwarming, and hilarious...This is a knockout.” —Publishers Weekly, starred review

Award-winning, highly-acclaimed author Adriana Herrera delivers the sexy, modern enemies-to-lovers romance you’ve been waiting for.

Starting over is more about who you’re with than where you live…

Julia del Mar Ortiz is not having the best year.

She moved to Dallas with her boyfriend, who ended up ditching her and running back to New York after only a few weeks. Left with a massive—by NYC standards, anyway—apartment and a car lease in the scorching Texas heat, Julia is struggling…except that’s not completely true. Running the charitable foundation of one of the most iconic high fashion department stores in the world is serious #lifegoals.

It’s more than enough to make her want to stick it out down South.

The only monkey wrench in Julia’s plans is the blue-eyed, smart-mouthed consultant the store hired to take them public. Fellow New Yorker Rocco Quinn’s first order of business? Putting Julia’s job on the chopping block.

When Julia is tasked with making sure Rocco sees how valuable the programs she runs are, she’s caught between a rock and a very hard set of abs. Because Rocco Quinn is almost impossible to hate—and even harder to resist.

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Excerpt:

Julia

I stepped into the elevator and shoved my phone into the pocket of my dress, took a moment to send a prayer to the employee discount that let me buy bomb clothes on a nonprofit worker budget, and did some mental math of what could be going on.
Was the program really in trouble? Could we actually get shut down?
Nope, I would not go there. I would not think about what it would be like to get on a plane back to New York dumped and unemployed. Not happening.
A distraction. That’s what I needed. Just as the door to the elevator was about to close, someone got in. The fact that I was eye level with the base of his throat was a good clue as to who it was, but when he opened his mouth and the now familiar knee-weakening baritone echoed off the walls of the elevator, I got my confirmation.
“Morning, Ms. Ortiz.” That voice could be used for interrogation tactics. Every muscle in my body loosened at the same time whenever I heard it.
I squeaked out a “Morning” and took my time lifting my head all the way up to look at the last person in the world I wanted overhearing my conversation with my mother.
Him.
Rocco Fucking Quinn, otherwise known as the “Team Leader” for the consulting firm looking to bag my job. The guy with the New York City-est name on the planet. I hadn’t exactly gotten personal with Mr. Quinn, but I picked up on that accent the first time we met.
“What’s good?” I really tried to sound polite, but my Queens jumped out in situations like this. I did not gulp, because I could not let this fucker see me sweat. I managed not to cut my eyes at him, but it was a close call.
I took him in, ramrod straight, every hair in its place, not a wrinkle in sight, and decided he could not be the proprietor of the laugh-choke from before. The man seemed to be completely lacking a sense of humor. I knew he must have teeth but I’d never seen them.
Yeah, definitely not him. That fact rallied my spirits a little bit as I stood close enough to pick up on how he smelled. Like the ocean and something woodsy. That was not helpful information.
Without saying another word, I ran my eyes over him. It struck me that he was not wearing something bespoke like pretty much everyone here. Don’t get me wrong, he still looked good enough to eat, but he was clearly on a budget. And at a place where everyone looked like they were heading to a New York Fashion Week photo shoot, it was sort of jarring. Still, the suit fit him well. And there was no question, this guy could wear the fuck out of a suit. I held back a whimper when I envisioned him in a Brioni or a Zegna. They’d have to put out a heat advisory for the building if that ever happened.
“I thought I could detect a familiar accent when I was coming down the hall.” His perfectly blue eyes twinkled at what I was certain was an expression of utter mortification on my face. He sounded pleasant enough, but he was also alluding to the fact that I was yapping on my phone. This wasn’t the first time he tried to be cute. Rocco Quinn seemed to like fucking with me. And it was only a matter of time before he stepped on my last nerve and I reamed him out.
Thankfully, just as I was scrambling to respond to his comment, the elevator got to my floor. I was planning to just leave him hanging and run off, but he was hot on my heels.
Dammit.
“Sounds like your mom misses you.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. Why did he have to act all fake nice?
I nodded without looking at him. “She does. Listen, Mr. Quinn—”
“You can call me Rocco.”
Nope, that was not happening. I was not letting this sexy bastard talk me into getting all chummy with him. I was already on thin ice as it was. He could keep his pheromones and his slick-as-fuck expressions to his damn self. I came to a dead stop a few feet away from the conference room door where my boss—and whatever shitty news she was about to give me—was waiting.
When I turned around, Rocco was looking down at me with an expectant smile. God he was handsome, that jet-black hair so dark it almost had a tinge of blue and those eyes, piercing. And I guess he had teeth after all, and of course they were perfect. Asshole. I shook my head hard when my traitorous brain started wondering what Pantone color his eyes would be.
Get your head in the game, Julia del Mar.
I straightened my back, determined to fight off the debilitating effects of those gleaming teeth and perfectly pink lips. I had to remember this niceness was probably his way of getting us to let our guard down. He was here to find ways to cut jobs. I was not about to mouth off and get myself fired, but I needed to get some things clear.
“Look.” I was proud of myself for not rolling my neck or pointing at his face. “I know you’re trying to be nice, but you make me nervous.” I pulled on the hem of my blue polka-dot dress and smoothed my yellow cardigan, avoiding eye contact at all costs.
“Why do I make you nervous?”
Uh, maybe because you’re here to close down as much of the foundation as you can.
I refrained from actually saying that because I had not been raised by a Puerto Rican man and Dominican woman just so I could act like I had no home training with the guy who could get me fired. But it was a close call.
“I’m sorry for saying that. You don’t make me nervous.”
Lies.
Rocco Quinn didn’t just make me nervous. He made me want to run my hands all over that big-ass body and moon over his almost but not quite curly hair and blue eyes, in spite of the fact that I knew he was out here gunning for my entire program. And yet, I still wanted to kiss the hell out of him while I climbed him like a sequoia.

Copyright © 2020 by Adriana Herrera


About the author:
About Adriana Herrera
Adriana was born and raised in the Caribbean, but for the last fifteen years has let her job (and her spouse) take her all over the world. She loves writing stories about people who look and sound like her people, getting unapologetic happy endings.

When she’s not dreaming up love stories, planning logistically complex vacations with her family or hunting for discount Broadway tickets, she’s a trauma therapist in New York City, working with survivors of domestic and sexual violence.

Her Dreamers series has received starred reviews from Publishers Weekly and Booklist and has been featured in The TODAY Show on NBC, Entertainment Weekly, NPR, Library Journal and The Washington Post. Her debut, American Dreamer, was selected as one of Booklist’s ‘Best Romance Debuts of 2019’, and one of the ‘Top 10 Romances of 2019’ by Entertainment Weekly. Her third novel, American Love Story, was one of the winners in the first annual Ripped Bodice Award for Excellence in Romantic Fiction. Adriana is an outspoken advocate for diversity in romance and has written for Remezcla and Bustle about Own Voices in the genre. She’s one of the co-creators of the Queer Romance PoC Collective. Represented by Taylor Haggerty at Root Literary.

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