Author Spotlight – Kristen Simmons
January 10th, 2012
Morning Kindle-ites! Today’s spotlight is the very lovely Ms. Kristen Simmons author of the upcoming (dystopian) novel “Article 5.” I stumbled (quite ungracefully I might add) onto this book about 2 months ago on another blog (no, I don’t remember which one) and just KNEW that I HAD TO HAVE IT! So, I scooted my happy little booty over to Amazon and per-ordered it, right there on the spot. Then… (cause I’m a bit of an internet stalker) I befriended Kristen on her Facebook page, (which -to my delight- informed me that she is a “Walking Dead” fan! YAY!) and now here we are, getting a glimpse into her glamorous life! And… even better (because I adore y’all and have decided y’all need a little treat…) I’m going to give you a chance to WIN a COPY of this little post-apocalyptic ditty. *Trows confetti* Sooo here you go… 3 Questions with Kristen!
What Everyone is Saying!
“Subversion. Defiance. Desperate, struggling humanity in the face of state-sponsored tyranny. This book was engrossing, unpredictable and thoroughly REAL. Loved it.”–Jay Kristoff, author of Stormdancer
“Fast-paced, emotional and nail-bitingingly intense, Article 5 gripped me from page one and didn’t let me go once.”--Parajunkee.com
“There are only a few books that managed to keep me up at night this year, and ARTICLE 5 is one of them. A MUST read for any fan of the dystopian genre…even if you are not, it’s a must read anyways.”–Book Reader Addicts
The Book!
New York, Los Angeles, and Washington, D.C., have been abandoned.
The Bill of Rights has been revoked, and replaced with the Moral Statutes.
There are no more police—instead, there are soldiers. There are no more fines for bad behavior—instead, there are arrests, trials, and maybe worse. People who get arrested usually don’t come back.
Seventeen-year-old Ember Miller is old enough to remember that things weren’t always this way. Living with her rebellious single mother, it’s hard for her to forget that people weren’t always arrested for reading the wrong books or staying out after dark. It’s hard to forget that life in the United States used to be different.
Ember has perfected the art of keeping a low profile. She knows how to get the things she needs, like food stamps and hand-me-down clothes, and how to pass the random home inspections by the military. Her life is as close to peaceful as circumstances allow.
That is, until her mother is arrested for noncompliance with Article 5 of the Moral Statutes. And one of the arresting officers is none other than Chase Jennings…the only boy Ember has ever loved.
3 Questions with Kristen!
Q: During my extensive research into your background (*cough* I read your bio *cough*) I noticed that you have a Masters Degree in social work. Did you draw on your experiances in this field while you were writing “Article 5″, or did you just make shit up as you went along? For example:
“She knows how to get the things she needs—like food stamps and hand-me-down clothes—and how to pass the random home inspections by the Federal Bureau of Reformation.”
I don’t know about you, but that one sentence alone sounds like a girl who knows what she’s talking about.
A: Yes and no. Perhaps the most important thing I learned from a career in social work is how tenacious we all are. In that line of work you often see people at their most difficult moments. Your job is to help them rise up, reclaim their strength. Witnessing someone recover after they’ve stumbled is the kind of thing that makes you believe in almost anything. It changes the way you look at the world. So yeah, it’s sort of hard not to write through that lens.
Chase and Ember have been through some traumatic things, and as a result, are dealing with some pretty hefty emotional consequences. Things that anyone might feel after experiencing what Chase and Ember have. But they’re resilient. Like with anyone struggling with a hardship, there is hope as long as they can learn to trust and support each other.
All that aside, most of it I made up as a I went along. 
Q: Now, while I’d love to focus on the fact that you actually taught Jazzercize, (this, I’m only assuming, is where your love for Spandex and scrunchy sock stemmed from) tell me about your choice to write a Dystopian survivial novel. (Not that I’m judging.. I’m a total Dystopian whore. I should probably take pills for it.)
A: Teach Jazzercise. Teach, my friend! There is no past tense here! And it didn’t just cultivate my love of Spandex, but also gave me a deep appreciation for the music of N’Sync, which was super popular when I was becoming an instructor.
But anyways…
You know, I didn’t really make a conscious choice to write a Dystopian novel. When I wrote Article 5 I was convinced it was a romance. I had heard the term Dystopian used a little bit, but really considered my book a love story. I didn’t realize until later that the setting, and the way Ember and Chase are forced to react to it, made it something else. Now I love Dystopians. They’re an exaggeration of the world we live in – a more extreme focus on the challenges we face every day – finding food, finding work, surviving. All of the frightening, negative things that we are confronted with here come to life in a bigger, bolder way. And though the world may be a harsher place, it actually highlights resilience and humanity. It forces characters to be stronger, and braver. To make choices that impact their survival, choices that, in the end, have potential to show great growth. And as a reader, and a writer, that gives me hope that I can survive this world.
Q: And lastly… cause I know you are working on book #3 in this series and I don’t want to take up too much of your time, (we can’t have you “angst baking” again) Can you tell us a little story? No, no…that’s too vague. Can you tell us how you felt when the cop you were doing a ride along with (for research) pulled a machete out of a suspects car?
A: Ha. Well at first I thought OMG THAT’S A MACHETE! And it was kind of cool, you know? Like, how often do you see something like that? And then I realized it wasn’t a movie, and that guy who’d had the machete was now sitting directly behind me in the back of the cop car, and from that point forward I was, well, sort of uncomfortable. My cop was great though. The whole time I was with him I never felt unsafe.
Thanks Misty!
To learn more about Kristen click on her pretty face to visit her website!
The Excerpt!
CHAPTER 1
Beth and Ryan were holding hands. It was enough to risk a formal citation for indecency, and they knew better, but I didn’t say anything. Curfew rounds wouldn’t begin for another two hours, and freedom was stolen in moments like these.
“Slow down, Ember,” Ryan called.
Instead I walked faster, pulling away from our pack.
“Leave her alone,” I heard Beth whisper. My face heated as I realized how I must look: not like a conscientious friend who was minding her own business, but like a bitter third wheel who couldn’t stand seeing other couples happy. Which wasn’t true—mostly.
Sheepishly, I fell into step beside Beth.
My best friend was tall for a girl, with an explosion of dark freckles centered at her nose and a cap of squiggly red hair that was untamable on chilly days like this one. She traded Ryan’s arm for mine—which, if I was honest, did make me feel a little safer—and without a word, we danced on our tiptoes around the massive cracks in the sidewalk, just like we’d done since the fourth grade.
When the concrete path succumbed to gravel, I raised the front of my too-long khaki skirt so the hem didn’t drag in the dust. I hated this skirt. The matching button-up top was so boxy and stiff that it made even busty Beth look flat as an ironing board. School uniforms were part of President Scarboro’s new Moral Statute—one of many that had taken effect after the War—mandating that appearances comply with gender roles. I didn’t know what gender they’d been aiming for with this outfit. Clearly it wasn’t female.
We stopped at the gas station on the corner out of habit. Though it was the only one in the county still open, the lot was empty. Not many people could afford cars anymore.
We never went inside. There would be snacks and candy bars on the racks, all priced ten times higher than they’d been last year, and we didn’t have any money. We stayed where we were welcome—on the outside. Three feet removed from the hundreds of tiny faces imprisoned behind the tinted glass. The board read:
MISSING! IF SIGHTED, CONTACT THE FEDERAL BUREAU OF REFORMATION IMMEDIATELY!
Silently, we scanned the photographs of the foster-care runaways and escaped criminals for anyone we might know, checking for one picture in particular. Katelyn Meadows. A girl with auburn hair and a perky smile, who’d been in my junior history class last year. Mrs. Matthews had just told her she’d gotten the highest grade in the class on her midterm
when the soldiers had arrived to take her to trial. “Article 1 violation,” they’d said. Noncompliance with the national religion. It wasn’t as if she’d been caught worshiping the devil; she’d missed school for Passover, and it had gone on to the school board as an unauthorized absence.
That was the last time anyone had seen her.
The next week Mrs. Matthews had been forced to take the Bill of Rights out of the curriculum. There was no discussion permitted on the topic. The soldiers posted at the door and at the recruiting table in the cafeteria made sure of that.
Two months after Katelyn’s trial, her family had moved away. Her phone number had been disconnected. It was as if she’d never existed.
Katelyn and I hadn’t been friends. It wasn’t that I didn’t like her; I thought she was all right, actually. We always said hi, if not much more. But since her sudden disappearance, something dark had kindled inside of me. I’d been more on guard. As compliant with the Statutes as possible. I didn’t like to sit in the front row of class anymore, and I never walked home from school alone.
I couldn’t be taken. I had to look out for my mother.
I finished my review. No Katelyn Meadows. Not this week.
“Did you hear about Mary What’s-her-name?” Beth asked as we resumed our walk to my house. “She’s a sophomore I think.”
“Let’s see, Mary What’s-her-name,” said Ryan pensively, pushing the glasses up his sharp nose. His uniform jacket made him look studious, whereas the other guys at school always looked like their mothers had dressed them up for Easter Sunday.
“No. What happened to her?” A chill tickled my skin.
“Same thing as Katelyn. Moral Militia came to take her to trial, and no one’s seen her in a week.” Beth’s voice lowered, as it did when she suspected someone might be listening.
My stomach sank. They weren’t actually called the Moral Militia, but they might as well have been. The uniformed soldiers actually belonged to the Federal Bureau of Reformation— the branch of the military the president had created at the end of the War three years ago. Their purpose was to enforce compliance with the Moral Statutes, to halt the chaos that had reigned during the five years that America had been mercilessly attacked. The hammer had come down hard: Any violation against the Statutes led to a citation, and in the worst cases, resulted in a trial before the FBR Board. People who went to trial—like Katelyn—didn’t usually come back.
There were all sorts of theories. Prison. Deportation. A few months ago I’d heard a crazy homeless man spouting off about mass executions, before he’d been carted away. Regardless of the rumors, reality was bleak. With each new Statute issued, the MM became more powerful, more self-righteous. Hence the nickname.
“They took a freshman from gym, too,” said Ryan soberly. “I heard they didn’t even let him change back into his uniform.”
First Katelyn Meadows, now Mary Something and another boy. And Mary and the boy within the last two weeks. I remembered when school had been safe—the only place we didn’t have to think about the War. Now kids never ditched. There weren’t any fights. People even turned in their homework on time. Everyone was scared their teacher would report them to the MM.
As we turned up my empty driveway, I glanced next door. The boxy house’s white paneling was stained by dust and rain. The bushes had overgrown so much that they connected over the concrete steps. Long, fragile cobwebs sagged from the overhang. It looked haunted. In a way, it was.
That had been his house. The house of the boy I loved.
Deliberately, I looked away and climbed our front porch stairs to let my friends inside.
My mother was sitting on the couch. She had at least four too many clips in her hair and was wearing a shirt that she’d stolen from my closet. I didn’t mind. The truth was I wasn’t much into clothes. Sorting through a collection of worn handme-downs at a donation center hadn’t exactly cultivated my desire to shop.
What I did mind was that she was reading a paperback with a half-naked pirate on the cover. That stuff was illegal now. She’d probably gotten it from someone she volunteered with at the soup kitchen. The place was chock-full of unemployed women spreading their passive-aggressive contraband beneath the Moral Militia’s nose.
“Hi, baby. Hi, kids,” my mother said, hardly moving. She didn’t look up until she finished reading her page, then she jammed a bookmark in place and stood. I kept my mouth shut about the book, even though I probably should have told her not to bring that stuff home. It obviously made her happy, and it was better than her reading it on the porch, like she sometimes did when feeling particularly mutinous.
“Hi, Mom.”
She kissed me noisily on the cheek, then hugged my friends at the same time before releasing us to our homework.
We pulled out our big heavy books and began deciphering the mechanical world of precalculus. It was horrid work—I detested math—but Beth and I had made a pact not to drop. Rumor was, next year, girls weren’t even going to be able to take math anymore, so we suffered through in silent rebellion.
Smiling sympathetically at my expression, my mother patted my head and offered to make us all hot chocolate. After a few minutes of frustration, I followed her into the kitchen. She’d forgotten to water her ficus plant again, and it drooped pitifully. I filled a glass from the sink and poured it into the pot.
“Bad day?” she ventured. She spooned the chocolate powder into four mugs from a blue canister with a picture of a sunrise on the front. Horizons brand food was government owned, and all we could get with our meal rations.
I leaned against the counter and scuffed my heel against the floor, still thinking about the two new abductees, the contraband. The empty house next door.
“I’m fine,” I lied. I didn’t want to scare her by telling her about Mary Something, and I still didn’t want to rag her about the book. She hated when I got on her back about the rules. She could be sort of reactive sometimes.
“How was work?” I changed the subject. She didn’t get paid at the soup kitchen, but we still called it work. It made her feel better.
She didn’t miss my obvious avoidance, but she let it drop and launched into a full story about Misty Something dating Kelly Something’s boyfriend from high school, and…I didn’t bother keeping up. I just nodded and soon was smiling. Her enthusiasm was infectious. By the time the teakettle whistled, I felt much better.
She was reaching for the mugs when someone knocked on the door. I went to answer it, thinking that it was probably Mrs. Crowley from across the street, stopping by to visit my mother like she did every day.
“Ember, wait—” The fear in Beth’s voice made me stop and turn back toward the living room. She was kneeling on the couch, her hand on the curtain. The color had drained from her already-fair complexion.
But it was too late. My mom unlatched the dead bolt and opened the door.
Two Moral Militia soldiers stood on our front steps.
They were in full uniform: navy blue flak jackets with large wooden buttons, and matching pants that bloused into shiny boots. The most recognized insignia in the country, the American flag flying over a cross, was painted on their breast pockets, just above the initials FBR. Each of them had a standard-issue black baton, a radio, and a gun on his belt.
One of the soldiers had short brown hair that grayed around his temples, and wrinkles around the corners of his mouth that made him appear too old for his age. His narrow companion brushed at his tawny mustache impatiently.
I sagged in disappointment. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I had hoped that one of them was him. It was a fleeting moment of weakness whenever I saw a uniform, and I kicked myself for it.
“Ms. Lori Whittman?” The first soldier asked, without looking her in the face.
“Yes,” my mother replied slowly.
“I need to see some ID.” He didn’t bother to introduce himself, but his name tag read BATEMAN. The other was CONNER.
“Is there a problem?” There was a snarky tinge to her tone, one I hoped they didn’t pick up on. Beth came up close behind me, and I could feel Ryan beside her.
“Just get your ID, ma’am,” Bateman said irritably.
My mother pulled away from the door without inviting them in. I blocked the threshold, trying not to look as small as I felt. I could not let them search the house; we had too much contraband out to avoid a citation. I tilted my head subtly to Beth, and she meandered back to the couch, stuffing the romance novel my mother had been reading beneath the cushions. My mind raced through the other things she had: more inappropriate paperbacks, old magazines from before the War, a home manicure kit. I’d even heard that my favorite book, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, had made the list, and I knew that was right on top of my nightstand. We weren’t scheduled for an inspection tonight; we’d just had one last month. Everything had been left out.
A burning ignited in my chest, like the flicker of a lighter. And then I could hear my heart, thudding against my ribs. It startled me. A long time had passed since I’d been aware of that feeling.
Bateman tried to look past me, but I blocked his view. His brow lifted in judgment, and my blood boiled. Over the past year the MM’s presence in Louisville—and all the remaining U.S. cities—had increased tenfold. It seemed there wasn’t enough for them to do; harassing citizens appeared to be a high priority. I stuffed down the resentment and tried to stay composed. It was unwise to be impolite to the MM.
There were two cars parked on the street, a blue van and a smaller car that looked like an old police cruiser. On the side of each was the FBR emblem. I didn’t need to read the motto below to know what it said: One Whole Country, One Whole Family. It always gave me a little jolt of inadequacy, like my little two-person family wasn’t whole enough.
There was someone in the driver’s seat of the van, and another soldier outside on the sidewalk in front of our house. As I watched, the back of the van opened and two more soldiers hopped out onto the street.
Something was wrong. There were too many soldiers here just to fine us for violating a Statute.
My mom returned to the door, digging through her purse. Her face was flushed. I stepped shoulder to shoulder with her and forced my breath to steady.
She found her wallet and pulled out her ID. Bateman checked it quickly before stuffing it into the front pocket of his shirt. Conner lifted a paper I hadn’t seen him holding, ripped off the sticky backing, and slapped it against our front door.
The Moral Statutes.
“Hey,” I heard myself say. “What are you—”
“Lori Whittman, you are under arrest for violation of the Moral Statutes, Section 2, Article 5, Part A revised, pertaining to children conceived out of wedlock.”
“Arrest?” My mom’s voice hitched. “What do you mean?”
My mind flashed through the rumors I’d heard about sending people to prison for Statute violations, and I realized with a sick sense of dread that these weren’t rumors at all. It was Katelyn Meadows all over again.
“Article 5!” Ryan blurted from behind us. “How could that apply to them?”
“The current version was revised on February twenty-fourth. It includes all dependent children under the age of eighteen.”
“February twenty-fourth? That was only Monday!” Beth said sharply.
Conner reached across the threshold of our home and grabbed my mother’s shoulder, pulling her forward. Instinctively, I wrapped both hands around his forearm.
“Let go, miss,” he said curtly. He looked at me for the first time, but his eyes were strange, as if they didn’t register that I was present. I loosened my hold but did not release his arm.
“What do you mean ‘arrest’?” My mother was still trying to process.
“It’s quite clear, Ms. Whittman.” Bateman’s tone was condescending. “You are out of compliance with the Moral Statutes and will be tried by a senior officer of the Federal Bureau of Reformation.”
I struggled against Conner’s firm hold on her shoulder. He was pulling us outside. I asked him to stop, but he ignored me.
Bateman restrained my mother’s opposite shoulder, dragging her down the steps. Conner released her arm for a moment to jerk me aside, and with a stunted cry, I fell. The grass was cold and damp and soaked through my skirt at the hip, but the blood burned in my face and neck. Beth ran to my side.
“What’s going on here?” I glanced up and saw Mrs. Crowley, our neighbor, wrapped in a shawl and wearing sweatpants. “Lori! Are you all right, Lori? Ember!”
I sprang to my feet. My eyes shot to the soldier who had been waiting outside. He had an athletic build and gelled blond hair, neatly parted on the side. His tongue slid over his teeth beneath pursed lips, reminding me of the way sand shifts when a snake slithers beneath it.
He was walking straight toward me.
No! The breath scraped my throat. I fought the urge to run.
“Don’t touch me!” my mother shrieked at Bateman.
“Ms. Whittman, don’t make this harder than it has to be,” responded Bateman. My stomach pitched at the apathy in his voice.
“Get the hell off my property,” my mother demanded, fury stabbing through her fear. “We’re not animals; we’re people! We have rights! You’re old enough to remember—–”
“Mom!” I interrupted. She was just going to make it worse. “Officer, this isn’t right. This is a mistake.” My voice sounded far away.
“There’s no mistake, Ms. Miller. Your records have already been reviewed for noncompliance,” said Morris, the soldier before me. His green eyes flashed. He was getting too close.
In a split second, his vicelike fists shot out and trapped both my wrists. I bucked against him, retracting my arms in an attempt to shake him loose. He was stronger and jerked me close, so that our bodies slapped together. The breath was squashed from my lungs.
For a second I saw the hint of a smirk cross his face. His hands, cuffing my fists, slipped behind my lower back and drew me in tighter. Every part of me went rigid.
A warning screamed in my head. I tried to get away, but this seemed to drive new excitement into him. He was actually enjoying this. His hard grip was making my hands prickle with numbness.
Somewhere in the street I heard a car door slam.
“Stop,” I managed.
“Let go!” Beth shouted at him.
Conner and Bateman pulled my mother away. Morris’s hands were still on my wrists. I heard nothing over the ringing in my ears.
And then I saw him.
His hair was black and gleaming in the last splinters of sunlight. It was short now, cleanly cut like the other soldiers’, and his eyes, sharp as a wolf’s, were so dark I could barely see the pupils. JENNINGS was spelled out in perfect gold letters over the breast of his pressed uniform. I had never in my life seen him look so grave. He was nearly unrecognizable.
My heart was beating quickly, fearfully, but beating all the same. Just because he was near. My body had sensed him before my mind had.
“Chase?” I asked.
I thought of many things all at the same time. I wanted to run to him despite everything. I wanted him to hold me as he had the night before he’d left. But the pain of his absence returned fast, and reality sliced at my insides.
He’d chosen this over me.
I grasped on to the hope that maybe he could help us.
Chase said nothing. His jaw was bulging, as though he was grinding his teeth, but otherwise his face revealed no emotion, no indication that the home he’d been raised in was twenty feet away. He stood between where Morris held me and the van. It occurred to me that he was the driver.
“Don’t forget why you’re here,” Bateman snapped at him.
“Chase, tell them they’re wrong.” I looked straight at him.
He didn’t look at me. He didn’t even move.
“Enough. Get back in the van, Jennings!” ordered Bateman.
“Chase!” I shouted. I felt my face twist with confusion. Was he really going to ignore me?
“Don’t speak to him,” Bateman snapped at me. “Will someone please do something with this girl?”
My terror grew, closing off the world around me. Chase’s presence didn’t soothe me as it had in the past. The mouth that had once curved into a smile and softened against my lips was a hard, grim line. There was no warmth in him now. This was not the Chase I remembered. This wasn’t my Chase.
I couldn’t take my eyes off of his face. The pain in my chest nearly doubled me over.
Morris jerked me up, and instinct tore through me. I reared back, breaking free from his grasp, and wrapped my arms around my mother’s shoulders. Someone yanked me back. My grip was slipping. They were pulling her away from me.
“NO!” I screamed.
“Let go of her!” I heard a soldier bark. “Or we’ll take you, too, Red.”
Beth’s fists, which had knotted in my school uniform, were torn from my clothing. Through tear-filled eyes I saw that Ryan had restrained her, his face contorted with guilt. Beth was crying, reaching out for me. I didn’t let go of my mother.
“Okay, okay,” I heard my mother say. Her words came out very fast. “Please, officer, please let us go. We can talk right here.”
A sob broke from my throat. I couldn’t stand the obedience in her tone. She was so afraid. They were trying to separate us again, and I knew, more than anything else, that I could not let them do that.
“Be gentle with them, please! Please!” Mrs. Crowley begged.
In one heave, Morris ripped me from my mother. Enraged, I swiped at his face. My nails caught the thin skin of his neck, and he swore loudly.
I saw the world through a crimson veil. I wanted him to attack me just so I could lash out at him again.
His green eyes were beady in anger, and he snarled as he jerked the nightstick from his hip. In a flash it was swinging back above his head.
I braced my arms defensively over my face.
“STOP!” My mother’s pitch was strident. I could hear it above the screaming adrenaline in my ears.
Someone pushed me, and I was flung hard to the ground, my hair covering my face, blocking my vision. There was a stinging in my chest that stole the breath from my lungs. I crawled back to my knees.
“Jennings!” I heard Bateman shout. “Your CO will hear about this!”
Chase was standing in front of me, blocking my view.
“Don’t hurt him!” I panted. Morris’s weapon was still ready to strike, though now it was aimed at Chase.
“You don’t need that.” Chase’s voice was very low. Morris lowered the stick.
“You said you’d be cool,” he hissed, glaring at Chase.
Had Chase told this soldier—Morris—about me? Were they friends? How could he be friends with someone like that?
Chase said nothing. He didn’t move. “Stand down, Jennings,” Bateman commanded.
I scrambled up and glared at the man in charge. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“Watch your mouth,” snapped Bateman. “You’ve already struck a soldier. How much deeper a hole are you looking to dig?”
I could hear my mother arguing through her hiccuping sobs. When they began to move her toward the van again, I lunged forward, my hands tangling in Chase’s uniform. Desperation blanketed me. They were going to take her away.
“Chase, please,” I begged. “Please tell them this is a mistake. Tell them we’re good people. You know us. You know me.”
He shook me off as though some disgusting thing had touched him. That stung more than anything could in this moment. I stared at him in shock.
The defeat was devastating.
My arms were pulled behind me and latched into place by Morris’s strong grip. I didn’t care. I couldn’t even feel them.
Chase stepped away from me. Bateman and Conner ushered my mother to the van. She looked over her shoulder at me with scared eyes.
“It’s okay, baby,” she called, trying to sound confident. “I’ll find out who’s responsible for this, and we’ll have a nice long chat.”
My gut twisted at the prospect.
“She doesn’t even have her shoes on!” I shouted at the soldiers.
There were no more words as they loaded my mother in the back of the van. When she disappeared inside, I felt something tear within me, loosing what felt like acid into my chest. It scalded my insides. It made my breath come faster, made my throat burn and my lungs clench.
“Walk to the car,” Morris ordered.
“What? No!” Beth cried. “You can’t take her!”
“What are you doing?” Ryan demanded.
“Ms. Miller is being taken into custody by the federal government in accordance with Article 5 of the Moral Statutes. She’s going into rehabilitation.”
I was getting very tired all of a sudden. My thoughts weren’t making sense. Blurry lines formed around my vision, but I couldn’t blink them back. I gulped down air, but there wasn’t enough.
“Don’t fight me, Ember,” Chase ordered quietly. My heart broke to hear him say my name.
“Why are you doing this?” The sound of my voice was distant and weak. He didn’t answer me. I didn’t expect an answer anyway.
They led me to the car, parked behind the van. Chase opened the door to the backseat and sat me down roughly. I fell to my side, feeling the leather dampen from my tears.
Then Chase was gone. And though my heart quieted, the pain in my chest remained. It stole my breath and swallowed me whole, and I tumbled into darkness.
Article 5 © Kristen Simmons 2012
The Giveaway!!!
Flight or Frenzy
January 9th, 2012
Ladies and gentlemen… it’s that time again.
The time in which I bore you to death with my over-analytical mind and unabashed love for treks through the woods. That’s right… it’s a fantasy novel!!!! *does a somewhat retarded looking leg kick*
It has been a while since I read a good “you destroyed my family now I must take vengeance on you” novel and since Daniel (you might as well get used to that… there’s no way in hell I’m calling him Mr. Arenson) pretty much guaranteed me his soul (and a working right arm) to review “Blood of Requiem,” I had to agree. (You have no idea… I really need that right arm.)
Anywho.. before I go on a some ridiculous rant (which you will most likely skim than read) let me share with you what this book, (with the breathtaking cover) is all about.
“Long ago stood the kingdom of Requiem, a land of men who could grow wings and scales, breathe fire, and take flight as dragons. Requiem ruled the sky.
But Dies Irae, a tyrant leading an army of griffins, hunted Requiem’s people, burned their forests, and shattered their temples. Requiem fell. This ancient land now lies in ruin, its halls crumbled, its cries silenced, its skeletons littering the burned earth.
In the wilderness, a scattering of survivors lives in hiding. The griffins still hunt them, and every day promises death. Will Requiem’s last children perish in exile… or once more become dragons and fly to war?”
Fantasy novels are epic…heart-wrenching, and ultimately designed to test the wills of all involved. This is what makes them so engaging, and also one of the more difficult genre’s to write. To be honest, there is rarely (if any) “actual” history involved when piecing these stories together, and 99% of the time the worlds created are exclusively unique, eliminating the need for extensive research, BUT maintaining a certain level of drama while at the same time “building” a world can be daunting, and if an author lacks experience, (or a significant amount of coffee,) their writing can sometimes appear stunted.
Why does this matter…?
Well… we are well aware by now that Daniel is a very talented fantasy author, (at least according to me) and has plenty of experience, but that doesn’t mean that every once in a blue moon his writing doesn’t lack the “golden shimmer of greatness.” What it does mean however, (deep breath) is that Daniel knows how to recover.
For example, below I have offered you two passages; from two very different times in the book. In the first, Daniel seems a little off balance, like he really wants to make the passage shine, but he isn’t quite sure how, instead it reads as an average descriptive paragraph for an average everyday book. In the second passage however (which comes at about the 60% mark) you can see that he finally found his footing, and created an awe worthy, visually captivating paragraph that makes his story come to life. This (naturally) is the point in the book where I finally connected. *ding – light bulb*
-Towards to Beginning: “Forget Gloriae for now, he told himself. Benedictus needs me. Kyrie shot between clouds, zooming, tumbling, somersaulting. He flew with eyes narrowed, flew like never before, dazzling the griffins, spinning so fast, they barely knew where to follow. As he flew, he roared in pain and pride, for his king had returned.”
-Slightly past the mid-way point: “The blaze hit the griffin, pushing it back. It tumbled a few feet, then again flew at Benedictus. It looked like some roasted animal now, smoking and furless, its skin red and black and blistering. The beak was open and screeching, the rider writhing and screaming, a ball of fire and blood. Benedictus howled and lashed his tail, driving its spikes into the griffin, and finally it tumbled toward the ground. It fell like a comet, still screeching, until it hit the ground and was silent.”
And since we are on the topic of disjointedness.. the dialogue also felt a tad flat in the forefront of the book (very un-Daniel like I might add) but again, he made a startling comeback once his characters were fully feted out and took on a life of their own.
Anyways, on to what I loved about “Blood of Requiem” (partially because I want you to understand that this was a solid start to a promising series, and partially because I think Daniel may have a gun to his head right now.) The dragons. *roars into the air like a moron*
I LOVE dragons, and this is one area where Daniel did NOT let me down. Their descriptions were breathtaking, their actions intoxicating, and though they huffed and puffed (literally) at each-other when irritated, this only endeared me to them more. Most dragons are written from the “callous” angle, or at the very least… one that makes them appear gruff and unmoved, but Benedictus and his family of shimmery beast were not. Instead Daniel brought their weakness to light, highlighting their prideful stubbornness but also their damaged souls. In short… he kept them human, making their flaws beautiful instead of shameful.
As for the rest of the characters, (Dies Irae and Glorea specifically) I hated them. Not from a writing aspect mind you, but full fledged hatred that one might have against…say…their neighbor who throws grass seed in their flower beds. Which… only goes to show how far a few well written tirades can go.
So, what is my overall verdict? Well.. to be honest, this was not my favorite book of Daniel’s, BUT it has outstanding promise, AND… luckily for you (since I’m soooo freaking behind on reviews right now) the next 2 books are already out, so there is no waiting to see what happens next.
If you like fantasy, take a chance. If you are more the “we’re going to the chapel…” type, this may not be the best book for you.
Happy Reading my fellow Kindle-ites and remember: Anger is like fuel… one little spark and shit will hit the fan.
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(3.5/5)
Kindle Freebie Alert!!
January 8th, 2012
Police Chief Luke Granger’s witness to a murder, Amy Griffin, has been on the run for years. Her family thinks she was murdered eight years ago, but Amy chose to accept a life in the shadows in order to protect her sisters’ lives. Now unveiled secrets about their father have thrust the sisters into the public spotlight. The man who wants Amy dead now sees her sisters as the way to locate her. Luke and two of his homicide detectives are determined to stand in the way. They are each falling in love with a different sister, and it’s become a personal mission to keep them safe. But chances are that at least one of them will fail, and facing the future will take a faith deeper than any of them currently knows.
Kathleen Findlay is married to a cad, her mother is driving her crazy and her life is falling apart. Then her uncle dies, leaving her the family’s Revolutionary-era home and, she believes, an escape from her chaotic marriage. But one afternoon, while searching for a rake, she discovers a man in her garden shed — and a free fall through the centuries.
As her life spins wildly out of control, Kathleen finds her heart and in the process, her own place in time.
Melvin Arbuckle, Wanda Nell’s boss at the Kountry Kitchen, has been arrested for killing a waitress with an unsavory reputation. Convinced of Melvin’s innocence, Wanda Nell puts herself on the trail of a ruthless killer–and almost gets her goose cooked.
Beneath the bright lights of New York City, gangsters and criminals scurry about like cockroaches on a day old pizza. The Gutson Gang has their sights set on stealing The Secret Formula for a perfume that makes the wearer irresistible. Doc Gutson, Johnny Sequins and Pauly Three Toes also want cold, hard revenge and will stop at nothing to get it. But standing in their way are Bella Street, a cool, skateboarding champ and tech genius Felix Samson, a wannabe detective. Can Bella and Felix stop the evil trio, or will they both end up in the East River wearing cement shoes?
Beyond All Price is a historical novel, based on the real life story of Nellie M. Chase, a Union nurse during America’s Civil War. She had eloped at the age of nineteen with a man she later discovered was a “drunk, a gambler, a liar, a forger, and a thief.” She was strong enough to escape from that potentially abusive relationship and resourceful enough to find a job as wardrobe mistress for a theater. The woman with whom she shared a single room in a squalid tenement took an overdose of opium in an effort to escape a life of prostitution. Nellie joined the Union Army, because life in the midst of a war seemed safer than the one she had been living.
She found a home with the 100th Pennsylvania Regiment, a band of volunteers whose nickname was “The Roundhead Regiment” because of their strong religious beliefs. She believed so passionately in her country’s cause that she displayed a soldier’s bravery. Her skill and compassion led one of her patients to write, “Even here, amid the roar and carnage, was found a woman with the soul to dare danger; the heart to sympathize with the battle-stricken; sense, skill, and experience to make her a treasure beyond all price.”
She was equally at home managing a southern plantation full of abandoned slaves, a battlefield operating station, or a 600-bed military hospital. But after the war, her deep-seated need to dedicate her life to a worthy cause continued to drive her efforts until she faced an enemy more lethal than war.
Daniel Horowitz wins a prestigious music competition and stands on the brink of a stunning career as a virtuoso violinist. But he’s also a fourteen year old Jewish kid who loves to play baseball with his friends. His talent has come to the attention of famed Spanish classical conductor and competiton judge, Rafael Santamaria Gomez, and he takes a special interest. He invites Daniel to his annual Symposium for young talented musicians in Washington D.C. But when his parents forbid him his hobby, Daniel refuses to play the violin.
Daniel’s great-grandparents were wealthy Berlin bankers and owned a superb collection of musical instruments, including a rare 1742 Guarneri del Gesu violin, but lost them when their home was looted in 1939. Their son, Daniel’s grandfather, Simon, shares with Rafael the story of his family’s destruction at the hands of the Nazis and his six year struggle to survive in Dachau.
The conductor begins to suspect that the magnificent del Gesu violin owned by his friend and powerful arts patron, billionaire Russian ex-pat Sergei Valentino, is the same instrument. Sergei’s grandfather was a Russian General who helped to liberate Berlin in 1945 and he brought the violin back for Sergei’s beloved aunt, Yulena, who was a concert violinist. She fought the Stalinist regime at every turn and when they suspected she was planning to defect, she was murdered by the KGB whilst in London on tour.
So who does the violin belong to? The family who owned it for 150 years or the family who have owned it for the last 65? Both have suffered huge losses and survived the darkest times in human history and both have enormous emotional attachments to the instrument. How does Rafael prove its provenance? Then how does he get it back and what will that cost him? And will Daniel agree to play it? So many secrets, held tight for so many years, the shocking revelations will be explosive.
Sophie Hegel is a shy New York lawyer from small-town Florence Arizona, known not for the Renaissance but for housing a large prison. She’s just graduated from Yale Law School and landed her first job when, one evening she feels a fist-like ball form at the base of her throat. Diagnosed with the psychological condition Globus Sensate, this “fist-ball” wreaks havoc on her life, causing difficulty eating, speaking, and eventually breathing. With a cast of characters that includes a pornographer father, a sister with a knack for getting knocked up by denizens of the town pen, a tough-talking fashion maven, a painter of male nudes, an eccentric Sing Sing-residing client and a bevy of privileged Manhattan attorneys and judges, Swallow is a dark comedy about the distance that can separate fathers and daughters, and about a young woman’s struggle to survive in a world of pedigreed professionals for which she has no preparation.
Well on his way to realizing his dream of becoming a successful surgeon-scientist, Eli Branch seems destined for academic stardom. After years of research, Eli is on the cusp of a groundbreaking discovery that could light the way for the future. But, as Eli will soon learn, today’s medicine has a dark side.While investigating the suspicious death of one of his patients, Eli uncovers an elaborate web of lies spun by his late father, a longtime professor of anatomy at Mid-South Medical College in Memphis. Instead of finding answers, Eli only finds more questions-and more victims, each meeting a sudden, violent end.Eli joins forensic pathologist Meg Daily to find a common thread among the victims. As they piece together the chilling puzzle, Eli and Meg plunge headfirst into the world of deadly medicine-a world way too close to home.Trapped in the paradox of ending one life to save another, Eli and Meg find that in this life-or-death race against time, one false step could be fatal.
To have and to hold from this day forward…
Darren McLaughlin thinks he’s having a nightmare as he watches his wife, Lilly, being abducted from a gas station in Chandler, Arizona. Things then go from bad to worse, when it’s revealed that her captor is one of the students she taught at a local high school.
For better or worse…
In Manhattan, US Attorney Aaron Eicher cringes upon learning the identity of the man who abducted Lilly McLaughlin. Nick was the one thing holding his case together against the son of Russian crime boss, Viktor Sarvydas—but now his star witness was on the run, and in mortal danger. It is just the latest surprise in a case that went against everything he’d learned in school—when it came to the Russian Mafya 1+1=3.
Seeking refuge in Israel, fleeing the fallout of his son’s arrest, Viktor Sarvydas smiles when he learns the news about Nick. He knows that it’s now just a matter of time before he comes face to face with the man who was going to testify against his son.
With the FBI, media, and dueling Russian assassins in a cross-country race to get to Nick and Lilly, it becomes clear that the only one who can truly save them is Darren. Will he get to them first, or will…death do us part?
In a world where ghosts are an accepted reality, Stout Roost, reality star and host of the Network’s The Ghost Toucher reality series has vanished. But Israel, the spiritual detective they hire, doesn’t exactly have a plan to find him. Kelly Greene, a customer service rep, is tapped to assist the detective, but he quickly realizes that as far as unconventional methods go, Israel’s are insane. He informs Kelly there is an afterworld and it was already populated by pesty ghosts. They also hate humans because they eventually become ghosts and are seeking a ‘clean’ way to exterminate us all. The two learn finding Stout is the least of their worries as they are pursued through metro-Detroit by obsessive compulsive wannabe warriors, mutants who worship an insane deity, weapons from the other side and a mysterious, perpetually pregnant, augmentative woman with a gender complex.
Will drama and desire make her dreams come true? Kara Smith wants revenge on the father who rejected and abandoned her mother. She sets her sights on her father’s right hand man, Brent Stevens. As they are both drawn into a dangerous game of desperate secrets and passionate schemes, Kara finds herself caught between desire and disaster
Working in a wedding cake shop sucks when you’ve just been dumped.
Bailey Frost has a recipe for disaster: one cheating ex, one big glass of liquor, and three well-meaning male friends who think her lack of a sex life is funny. Before she knows it, she’s confessed that she’s never had an orgasm with a man.
Now Bailey has to navigate sappy couples at work, while her friends are hell-bent on helping her get revenge on evil Craig…by dressing up as werewolves, on YouTube.
And one of those friends– the tall, shy-but-gorgeous Linc–might just want to help Bailey with that other little problem..
Is there a twelve-step program for recovering assassins? Kayla McKenna is a covert assassin—and she likes it. After her father was murdered by terrorists, she was consumed by the need for retribution. But landing her dream job as a CIA assassin turns out to be merely a stepping stone in her plot to avenge the heartaches of the past… and present. One botched mission earns Kayla a burn notice, a bullet hole and a one-way ticket back to suburbia.
Banished to her childhood stomping grounds with a meddling, shopping-addicted mother intent on grandkids, three overprotective cop brothers, a sexy criminal who can’t decide whether he wants to shoot her or date her, and a new boyfriend even her family loves, Kayla may finally get the chance to find out what really matters in life.
A powerful, corrupt group of individuals have set their sights on Murhkin Mocado to help carry out a nefarious scheme. Born of relentless greed and hunger for power, these men are willing to sacrifice countless lives to bring their insidious plans to fruition. However, the purveyors of evil deeds are also being watched by one Joelle Barstow, an operative well versed in the tradecraft of industrial espionage. Initially sent to gather information on the CEO of a specific corporation, Barstow rapidly gets in over her head and uncovers a web of deceit involving big business and government.
Once Barstow crosses paths with Murhkin Mocado her skills are pushed to the limit, as she tries desperately to navigate this dangerous and deadly world. Mocado, expertly manipulated by his devious handlers, initiates a chain of events leading to one of the worst man-made ecological disasters the world has ever known. Will the pair escape with their lives in order to bring those responsible to justice?
When disgraced sales associate, Darby Stansfield, discovers he has six months to save his job, he does what any normal person would do. He freaks.
Desperate to resurrect his career at Teleco Wireless, he conjures up an international scheme filled with the promise of endless high-spending clients. It’s brilliant, it’s successful, and it involves doing business with organized crime.
But soon those closest to him find themselves caught up in his dangerous plan and one of these unknowingly has the power to destroy him. Darby must now make a tough decision––give up on the one good idea he ever had or risk it all.
A sleeping beauty may be the damsel in distress, but her White Knight? Why her rather un-knightish best friend of course. And the White Knight’s White Knight? Well… none other than her reluctant mortal enemy…
When Haydyn falls victim to the mysterious Sleeping Disease, the world of Phaedra is thrown into Chaos.
Rogan, Haydyn’s best friend and handmaiden, is the only one who can save her. Together, with the Royal Guard and their young Captain, Wolfe Stovia, Rogan must set off across the provinces to find the Somna Plant that will wake Haydyn from her dying sleep.
Beset on all sides by the chaos, Rogan tumbles into a dark world of kidnapping, prejudice, betrayal and love… a journey that will change her forever, and a journey that will change their world forever, if she does not retrieve the cure.
Lalla Bains, ex-model and Ag pilot has plenty to keep her busy during another long hot summer in the San Joaquin Valley of California. But when a homeless veteran litters her vintage red caddy with paper snowflakes Lalla figures it?s time for a showdown. Unfortunately, someone else has the same idea leaving Lalla with a dying man at her feet and only his strange last words, ?The more there is, the less you see,” as the only clue to his killer. No one wants her involved in the investigation; certainly not the creepy detective who slithers across her path every chance he gets, and not the local newspaper reporter whose annoying high-jinks cause her to want to set fire to the last three hairs on his head, nor Lalla’s love interest, Sheriff Caleb Stone, who can only wish he could reign in Lalla’s enthusiasm for sleuthing where she?s not welcome. Ultimately, the question: What would you do if the love of your life lost their chance at a heart transplant to a convicted felon brings Lalla to the answer of the killer as well as the dubious responsibility of proving it before the killer strikes again
Unto These Hills is an unforgettable novel of love, scandal, family, and roots by one of the most emotionally authentic authors of our time. Taking us into the deep South’s Tucapau Mill Hill, it introduces us to the unforgettable Sunny Acklin. Betrayed, abandoned, and violated, Sunny faces one seemingly insurmountable challenge after another. But she never loses her spirit or the memory of the love that once so richly illuminated her world. As years go by, Sunny does everything she can to make something of her life until at last an opportunity arises, one charged with promise…and undeniable risk.
Will the past ruin their future together?
CeCe Williams and Nate Richardson were not looking to fall in love. After being deserted by her son’s father, CeCe was content making a life for herself and her four-year-old son. Nate, recovering from a recent divorce, devoted his energies to his job as director of Genesis House, a social services center in inner city Atlanta. Neither is prepared for what grows between them when CeCe comes to work at Genesis House. Can they let go of the pain of the past and build a life together or will secrets from CeCe’s past destroy any hope they have for a future?
Book One: Diamonds – 16-year-old Tomika Drake, her conceited half-sister and her half-sister’s mother move to a new city and learn that the neighboring burg has been tackling an issue with mutants and other terrors, including a gang that Tomika’s half-sister gets caught up in. Using her inherited abilities, Tomika must do away with the doubts incited by her mother’s death and save the city.
A thief in the night. A missing sacred artifact. An evil warlord from ancient history, out to rule the world. These are only a few of the problems facing Tennen, the newly appointed Lord Protector of Melin. Thrown into a desperate race against time, Tennen, his dragon friend Berrinn, and his men chase the thief and his mysterious companion over land and sea to a cursed island where they try to wrench the Chalice of Ringtar from the enemy’s hands before it’s too late. All while under the watchful eye of a mysterious black hawk.
Glow Away!
January 5th, 2012
I have this saying that I like to use. Maybe “use” isn’t a good word, I throw it around like I’m allergic to it, but none the less… I have a saying and it goes something like this:
“I’m so pissed I could punch a bunny right now.”
I know, I know… it’s not exactly the most “animal friendly” of sayings and I’m sure that once this review goes live I’m going to get email bombed by PETA, but hey…it’s my saying, and I like it.
See…it encompasses a vast variety of uses. Have a bad day at work? The “man” got ya down? Maybe you found a book that really annoys the crap out of you and you have no idea how to explain how much you wanted to chunk it across a room. This phrase says it all!
You LIKE bunnies right? You think (that despite their alarming need to replicate) they are furry, and cute and make your kids happy on Easter…right? So what could be worse than wanting to punch one?
Oh yeah… a book that really annoys the crap out of you and you have no idea how to explain how much you wanted to chunk it across the room. (<– 2 points for wit!)
Alright, I’ll get to the point, but first (cue dramatic music) the synopsis.
“If a violent battle destroyed the only world you’ve ever known, would you be brave enough to save who was left? Would love be strong enough to survive the fight? Either way, there’s no turning back.
The Empyrean is the only home 15-year-old Waverly has ever known. Part of the first generation to be successfully conceived in deep space, she and her boyfriend Kieran will be pioneers of New Earth. Waverly knows she must marry young in order to have children who can carry on the mission, and Kieran, the handsome captain-to-be, has everything Waverly could want in a husband. Everyone is sure he’s the best choice. Still, there’s a part of Waverly that wants more from life than marriage, and she is secretly intrigued by the shy, darkly brilliant Seth.
Suddenly, Waverly’s dreams are interrupted by the inconceivable – a violent betrayal by the Empyrean’s sister ship, the New Horizon. The New Horizon’s leaders are desperate to populate the new planet first, and will do anything to get what they need: young girls. In one pivotal moment, Waverly and Kieran are separated, and find themselves at the helm of dangerous missions, where every move has potentially devastating consequences, and decisions of the heart may lead to disaster.”
Dear Sci-Fi,
My how I’ve missed you.
Wait… your not sci-fi? You’re actually a religious driven rant sloppily disguised as a space shuttle take over with barren women and one very sloppy plot?
My bad.
Ok, that was a tad rude. I apologize, but I feel the need to stress just exactly what you are getting yourselves into if you do (despite me advice *wags finger*) decided to purchase this book.
Yes, there are a shit ton (hmm… I think I used that same phrase in the last review, I need new material) of Sci-fi related elements to this book. They are on a spaceship, it’s kinda hard not to talk about artificial gravity, but despite it’s obvious outer-limits roots, this book is more of a angry woman turns her ship into a cult and decides to whack some people read. Don’t get me wrong… I like a good whacking as much as the next person, but the way in which it was handled was… well, it wasn’t handled, let’s just leave it at that.
The characters (despite Waverly…she was a little annoying at first, but pulled through) were bland. This was the biggest problem of all. The Empyrean (Waverly’s ride) was overthrown by an evil mongrel (who does not deserve a proper name) and thrust into an upheaval of epic proportions. And what did we get from the characters. “Blah” that’s what we got. I hate to sound mean, but (other than Seth) I didn’t care what happened to them. Take them away, let them float amongst the stars, throw them a party and take embarrassing pictures of their oddly shaped party hats? I DON’T CARE. I don’t know about you, but if I don’t care about the characters, I won’t care about the book.
Now, back to the whole “religious driven rant” I mentioned above. I am a christian. I can appreciate religious literature, but since when did Sci-fi and the Mother Mary start running in the same circles? That’s like saying Charles Darwin and Jesus Christ like to hang out on the weekend and throw back some cold ones. I was genuinely confused by it. This book had a fantastic premise, hell… despite my better judgement I will probably read book 2 (only because this one ended in a cliffhanger) but half way through the plot became a spiderweb of “good religion” vs “bad religion” not the fight for their lives that it SHOULD have been.
And lastly… because this review is already longer than the Declaration of Independence. The narration was less than desirable. Under normal circumstances I welcome duel narration, but I firmly believe Glow would have benefited for 1 perspective. Does that mean I didn’t get anything out of Keiran’s slightly vapid narration? No… he had his moments, and even started some rather interesting bisecting plot lines, but instead of the writing making me feel closer to the intended party, it only made me grit my teeth and hope Waverly’s voice would come back soon.
The only GOOD thing I can say about this book is that it is 100% original, I’ve never read anything like it.
So…where does this leave me? In short, disappointed. I really wanted this to be good. It has been sooooo long since I have read Sci-fi and I was practically salivating when I got it in the mail, but alas… that’s what I get for throwing all my hopes and dreams at it.
Pass on this one peeps… you will only find yourselves annoyed and wishing for more.
Happy Reading my fellow Kindle-ites and remember: Sometimes you win some, sometimes you lose some, and sometimes you want to drown yourself in gummy bears and pretend you never even hear of it.
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(2/5)
Damn Rules!
January 4th, 2012
Does anyone else ever think of the Hokey Pokey when they are reading books? You know… “you put your right foot in, you take your right foot out…” No? Hmm.. ok, maybe I’m crazier than I thought I was. Anyways… these day, whenever I happen upon (or a publisher/author) sends me a new “paranormal romance” to read, the Hokey Pokey is the very first thing I think of.
Why?
Because originality is hard to find. (“You put an angel in, you take an angel out, throw in some stupid ass rule, and you shake it all about.”) In a time when every other book published is about a cute, (not necessarily human boy) who has a deep dark secret it is becoming increasingly difficult for anything really good to stand out.
Now, before you get all giddy like a monkey on crack, and assume that I’m going to jump off of a bridge for this novel… I am not referring to “Unbreakable Love.” (*sigh*) Let’s face it…it’s been a while since I’ve been 100% happy with a straight up, no holds bared para-romance, but I am very happy to announce, that this is the first time, (in quite some time,) that (despite it’s somewhat predictable plot sequencing) I was was not bored by what I read.
Hmm… that sounded much more down-trodden than I expected it to. Whatever… First, the synopsis (then I’ll explain myself.)
“Jennie Townsend is unlucky in love, so she is immediately suspicious when a mysterious new student named Nate tries to gain her friendship. But there is something special about Nate, and in spite of her best efforts Jennie finds her feelings for the boy growing deeper every day.
In fact, Nate is more special than Jennie can even imagine. He is a guardian angel, sent to protect Jennie during a most dangerous time in her life. To do so, he must first become close to her – but not too close. The rules for Protectors warn against physical contact and strictly forbid falling in love. But the more time Nate spends with Jennie, the harder the rules are to follow. Will Nate be able to save Jennie from a premature end, or will his own emotions – and Jennie’s – get in the way of completing the task for which he was specifically chosen?”
So… back to my “this isn’t the greatest love story of all time” sucker punch. Let me be clear. I did actually enjoy this book. No, it was not very original. Yes, I could predict what was going to happen about 15 pages before it actually did, but despite it’s flaws I carried this book around in my back pocket for an entire week, reading when I had a free moment.
Here is what I loved about “Unbreakable Love”
The characters (Nate in particular) seemed genuine. A little screwed up, and frustrating when it came to communication, but genuine all the same, WHICH allowed me to dive into their lives on a more emotional level. (No crying mind you, just a bunch of “Awwws” and “WTH you idiot!” s) Carling did a wonderful job with her dialogue and even more…with the descriptions of body language (Hello!!! Forbidden touch remember!) I have to be honest, I got a little angsty when Jennie and Nate got “too close.”
Now, though I won’t go as far as saying that I “loved” the plot, I will say that I “liked” it. There were a few parts that glistened with originality and because of those moments, it allowed me to enjoy the flow of the book without making a shit ton of comparisons in my head.
However, with the good comes the bad. Luckily for Carling (P.S. this is her debut) they are rather insignificant details. (Ones that pleasure readers will not give a rats ass about, so if you want to skip this…feel free.)
First…I freaking HATE the huge blue blob on the front of this book. No, really… I hate it. The image used (though very unlike the characters descriptions in the book) is beautiful and evokes a sense of intimacy with the readers, then BAM! They disrupt the flow with a horrendous title bar in bold conflicting colors. *shudders* I know I shouldn’t care. I know that it’s what inside that really matters, but for the love of all that is holy… You know what, I can’t even finish that sentence. I value my life, and I’m afraid God may strike my ass down if I keep going.
Second. The book should have stopped at page 211 not 214. It’s not that the last 3 pages were horrible, but they should have been listed as an epilogue. Instead (though relevant to the story) they detracted from the solidification Carling had worked so hard to create.
Overall it was an enjoyable book, and anyone who takes pleasure in reading paranormal romances won’t be disappointment. I’m just a harder critic than most.
Happy Reading my fellow Kindle-ites and remember: You do the Hokey Pokey and you turn yourself around, that’s what it’s all about. Hey!
(3.5/5) <–I totally ganked half a star for the cover. Just FYI
Who wants a FREE BOOK!!!! Thanks to the lovely people at Acacia Publishing, I have a signed copy of this little ditty to give away. Just fill out the form below and GOOD LUCK!
The Giveaway!
Author Spotlight – Jordan Dane!
January 3rd, 2012
Morning Kindle-ites! Today’s spotlight is the lovely (and I mean that sincerely) Ms. Jordan Dane. I first met Jordan when I reviewed her book “In The Arms of Stone Angels“ back in September of 2011. There I was, minding my own business… doing my Amazon Vine duty… when I get a Twitter message thanking me for my great review. I have to admit, I was floored at first, I had in no way approached Ms. Dane or her publisher. This was a just a book that seemed interesting to me, was on my “read this is you want to list” and I snagged it. So the fact that she had tracked me down to thank me made me, (very ungracefully actually) jump for joy. Since then, we have become chatting buddies, stroking each-others egos when necessary and have agreed to actually meet up in February for lunch. *happy dance* Anyways… she had a new book come out last week, and since I adore her (and her writing of course) I decided to ask her a few questions. So here you go, my 3 questions with Jordan Dane, and an excerpt of her new novel.
What Everyone is Saying!
“Dane’s YA is a great new tale about death, love and starting over. It’s an exciting mix that will remind readers of Bree Despain’s The Lost Saint and Rachel Vincent’s Soul Screamers. Paranormal fans will love this. A compelling page turner.” —RT Magazine in a YA Featured Review
“Jordan Dane is a fresh new voice in young adult paranormal fiction.” —P C Cast, New York Times Bestseller of the House of Night Series
“With a new take on the paranormal, Jordan Dane is one of the most compelling and honest voices in young adult fiction. Deliciously dark!” —Sophie Jordan, New York Times Bestseller of Firelight
The Book!
The choices I had made led to the moment when fate took over.
I would learn a lesson I wasn’t prepared for.
And Death would be my willing teacher.
Five years ago Abbey Chandler cheated Death. She survived a horrific car accident, but her lucky break came at the expense of her mother’s life and changed everything. After she crossed paths with Death–by taking the hand of an ethereal boy made of clouds and sky–she would never be normal again.
Now she’s the target of Death’s Ravens and an innocent boy’s life is on the line. When Nate Holden–Abbey’s secret crush–starts to climb Alaska’s Denali, the Angel of Death is with him because of her.
Abbey finds out the hard way that Death never forgets.
3 Questions With Jordan!
Q: “On a Dark Wing” is based in Alaska, right? How difficult was it to write a book based in an part of the country that has such extreme weather & living conditions. For example: In the prologue you bring up the 6 months of dark 6 months of light that Alaska is so known for.
”The sun had already gone down for the day. A steady chill settled into the night air. In Alaska, that’s how the dark side of the year happened. The days were short, making everyone crave sleep. The long summers made up for it, but in the dead of winter, it felt like life had been put on hold. If you didn’t get outside at lunch, you missed any hope of seeing daylight before darkness played the bully and took over.”
I used to live in Alaska. Ten years. I know about the long dark winters. HA! To get through that part of the year, I clocked time in the gym playing and coaching volleyball. I coached under the Midnight Sun Junior Olympics program and had 14 & under girls, but I also played on other teams. During the summer, I fished and camped, non-stop. I was charged by a mother moose with her baby once. She was close enough for me to feel her breath with only a narrow birch tree stood between us. I also was a check point operator on the Iditarod sled dog trail for the international Iditaski (a cross-country & snowshoe race). Alaska gets into your blood. I left my heart up there and still have good friends who live there. For the mountain climbing research, I had a good AK friend of mine help me, Niles Woods. He climbed Denali twice.
Many of the Alaska experiences Abbey talks, I personally lived them. For example, when she falls into the snow by herself on a mountain to do a snow angel and thinks about being alone while looking up at the Northern lights, that happened to me while I was sledding onto a frozen lake with friends. I somehow found a spot alone and was overwhelmed by the beauty in the night sky—something you never forget. The intimacy of being alone in such a setting is breathtaking and absolutely perfect. It marks you for life.
Q: One of the things I love most about your writing is your ability to project such beautiful imagery. (For example the dream states in “In The Arms of a Stone Angel”) Did you take creative writing classes when you were in school or do you just fly by the seat of your pants and what comes out is what goes down on paper?
Not sure classes can teach you these things. I like to think I am very empathetic and can imagine these things. It’s not easy. The dream sequences in Stone Angels are a good example, but in DARK WING, death became my challenge. I had to put my thoughts on the afterlife on paper, literally giving voice to them in the words of Death and Abbey. This month, I had a death in my family too. I was surprised how much DARK WING and the words of my dark angel helped me get through it.
Q: And lastly…. cause I know you are on a deadline & wasting time with me is that last thing you need, you are a self-professed smart-ass – “And I’m cynical by nature—and by choice—and frequently indulge my inner smart-ass.” – Do you think this HELPS or HINDERS your ability to write such varying characters?
Being here with you is NEVER a waste of time, my friend. HA!! What a great question! Maybe in real life it can hinder, but on paper, it can breathe life into certain characters, like Tanner. To write dialogue, an author should be willing to risk digging deep into their own personal experiences to add depth. That can be gut-wrenching at times. Sometimes it feels like the characters are telling me their story and I’m only writing it down. I channel them and don’t always remember writing certain phrases because I am literally throwing everything on the page without censorship until I edit. My sisters, and sometimes astute readers, go back and find those strange phrases (usually laughing) and send me emails about them. That always cracks me up too.
I’m on deadline with a new 2-book series I sold to Harlequin Teen – THE HUNTED. We’re still debating titles, so I can’t give you those yet, but I will have a cast of characters to spread the “smart a$$” wealth. Book #1 is estimated to be released in 2012.
Thanks for the feature, Misty. I appreciate all you do to encourage reading and promote literacy. Happy holidays and have a great 2012.
To learn more about Jordan and her wonderful books (of which she has many) you can visit her site by clicking on her beautiful picture above!
The Excerpt!
Prologue
Abbey Chandler
Palmer, Alaska
I had countless excuses for missing the bus that afternoon, five years ago. In the grand scheme of the universe, what was five minutes? I could have carved out five minutes from talking to my friends after school or taken five minutes off my stop at the 7-Eleven. Three hundred lousy seconds to grab a Pepsi and a bag of Cheetos. No big deal, right? When I saw the school bus pull away from the curb from across the street, I didn’t even run to catch it.
In the endless dreams I’ve had since then, I never run for that bus. Not once.
Even in my sleep, I couldn’t change what I did. It felt like my feet were stuck in cement. It had been way too easy to reach into my backpack and make a call on my cell phone—a call that changed my life forever. The choices I made that day, all of them led to that one moment when the school bus drove off and fate took over. I would learn a lesson I wasn’t prepared for.
Death would be my willing teacher.
All the strangest parts of my memory lingered to taunt me. Not the pieces I needed most. Guess that was my punishment. My memory had holes, a damaged and wounded thing. No amount of therapy or hypnosis or father daughter talks has ever shed light into those dark corners.
Dad says he doesn’t blame me, but I can’t see how that’s true. I blame me. I can’t even look at him without feeling my own guilt and shame. I’m stuck where I am, unable to move on. I sure as hell can’t go back and fix it. So I did the only thing I could.
I quit talking about it. I had to.
I should’ve been the one who died. It should have been me. I cheated Death and lived past my expiration date, but my lucky break would come at a price. I’d become obsessed with what happened the day I got my mother killed.
Guess you could say I was dying to know the truth.
***
Five Years Ago
“This is the third time this month that you missed the afternoon bus, Abbey.”
“But Mom, it wasn’t my fault.” I strapped the seat belt across my chest as my mother pulled our SUV from the curb and headed for the Parks Highway. “I was reading in the library and I lost track of time. I swear.”
The sun had already gone down for the day. A steady chill settled into the night air. In Alaska, that’s how the dark side of the year happened. The days were short, making everyone crave sleep. The long summers made up for it, but in the dead of winter, it felt like life had been put on hold. If you didn’t get outside at lunch, you missed any hope of seeing daylight before darkness played the bully and took over.
“Oh, yeah? You were reading, huh.” Mom gave me that look–the one that said she wasn’t buying it. “What were you reading, hot shot?”
When Mom turned onto the highway that headed home, I rattled off a book title that I knew she’d never read. I guess lying came naturally, like a rite of passage or something.
“How were the Cheetos?” she asked.
“What?”
“Your fingers are a dead giveaway, Abbey. You were at the 7-Eleven, weren’t you? Is that why you didn’t make the bus?”
I looked down at my hands. Even in the dim glow off the dash, I saw my fingertips were colored. Like, seriously neon orange. My mind raced with what I’d tell her, but I never got the chance. I looked up a split second before it happened.
I never even screamed.
On pure instinct, my body grew rigid. When I braced a hand against the dash, Mom looked at me. An eighteen-wheeler had crossed the center lane veering straight for us. I couldn’t even warn her. If Mom hadn’t turned her head in time, and yanked the steering wheel right, we would’ve hit that monster truck head on.
On impact, the high-pitched grind of tearing metal punished my ears. Our SUV flipped and rolled. As our windshield caved and shattered, shards of glass cut my face and hands. All I saw were flashes spiraling in front of me like I’d been strapped into a roller coaster barreling straight down a dark track, twisting and turning in agonizing jerks. My seat belt pinned me. When the dashboard crushed into my chest, everything else caved in, too. The crash happened so fast, yet went on forever. When the SUV finally came to a dead stop, an eerie quiet settled in.
My ears were ringing and when my eyes blinked open again, I saw the blur of the dash, fogged by wafting smoke. The headlights off the eighteen-wheeler caught smoldering debris and suspended it in the rig’s beams. I felt a sudden urge to move, but I couldn’t. When the warm taste of blood filled my mouth, something felt seriously wrong.
Momma. Please…help me.
I searched for her, but couldn’t move my head. I didn’t even sense her next to me. I felt alone, cocooned in pain and deepening shadows. How long I lay there shivering, I didn’t know, but eventually I sensed something that, to this day, I have never forgotten.
A strong presence filled the cab of the SUV.
Soothing heat replaced the numbing cold that had settled in my bones. It made me want to close my eyes and sleep, but a strange urgency wouldn’t let that happen. I strained to stay awake and searched the shadows, waiting for a glimpse of something…anything to explain the eerie feeling.
After an intense light stabbed my eyes and sent a shock of pain down my spine, I saw movement. Something eclipsed the truck’s headlights. It drifted toward me, inching closer until it hovered over my body. The brilliant glimmer swept over me and through me. Even though I could see through it, the light took shape and substance. The ghostly flicker turned into a body with arms and hands…and finally a face.
A boy’s face.
I was only ten, but he looked older, like a high school boy. He had the most intense eyes that I’d ever seen. Beautiful. They were deep blue and reminded me of the frigid depths of the ocean. His eyes were the only real color on his face, but that wasn’t the most incredible thing about him. White tufts undulated and billowed within the boundaries of his filmy body, beautiful and peaceful. He conjured memories of a perfect summer day with me lying on my back on a grassy hilltop, picturing animal shapes in the drifting white clouds.
When I shifted my gaze back to his eyes, I saw a long tunnel with a glimmering light at the end of it, a light eclipsed by the vague shapes of bodies undulating on a watery surface. Those wavering images calmed me. At that moment, I felt a part of them, as if I belonged. He comforted me in a way no one ever had.
The boy fascinated me. I must have had the same impact on him. He stared at me with such concentration that it looked as if he were memorizing my face. Who are you? I wanted to ask, but I couldn’t make my lips work.
When he reached out his hand, a strong impulse made me take it.
“A-Abbey?” But my mother’s choked whisper broke his spell over me.
I pulled from his grasp and shut my eyes as the haunting sound of her voice held me without even a touch. Oh, Momma. In the many nightmares that would follow, her voice would punch through the allusion of that strange boy and slap me with the harsh reality of what I’d done. That would be the last time I ever heard my mother’s voice.
She died that day because of me and I had a hollow ache deep inside that left me grieving over something I could never change.
Five minutes.
Five minutes would have meant everything.
© Jordan Dane
Kindle Freebie Alert
January 1st, 2012
Famous photojournalist Ryan Hunter has come back to a family torn apart by mistrust and resentment’to the father who disowned him, to the brother who betrayed him, to the little bou who shares his features. Ryan, the charismatic “bad boy” son, has returned’stirring up past conflicts like a whirlwind . . . and throwing Kara Delaney’s fragile, passionate heart into turmoil.
. . . and love is Waiting
Kara has struggled back from a disastrous marriage to build a new life for herself and her little girl—a peaceful existence now jeopardized by vicious, smalltown politics, by her daughter’s fanciful ghost stories… and by Ryan’s return. Now nature’s impending fury threatens to expose long-buried secrets. And Kara must join with the enigmatic, misunderstood Ryan-to discover the truth that will save their families … and to explore a dangerous, irresistible love as mighty and enduring as the onrushing river.
What’s that saying about the devil you know? For Bernadette Murphy, it’s the devil she never expected that changes everything. Her father’s sudden death leaves a gaping void in her life and is one in a series of events that rock her world. But with the discovery of her father’s book of cryptograms, Bernie realizes his encoded lessons in living may be exactly what she needs to survive.
When Bernie finds herself in trouble at home, out of work and banned from the mall after a confrontation at the cosmetic counter, she discovers what her father always knew. In life, you either choose to sing a rainbow, or you don’t.
For Bernie, the singing is about to begin.
Retired dentist Paul Osborne hasn’t fly fished since his wife died. He hasn’t had a woman tell him what to do since then either. But in the company of Lewellyn Ferris, he’s relearning both. And when he and his lady instructor find a well-dressed body floating in the moonlight, Paul adds deputy to his list of experiences…Whether the death is accidental — or accidentally on purpose — Lewellyn is determined to rell in the truth. She enlists Pail and his walleye-expert buddy, Ray, to help her get to the bottom of the murky mystery. Whoever thought small-town retirement could be this dangerous?
Jake Forrester, a controlled, self-reliant security expert scarred by his father’s murder, is pursuing his goal of an independent life, relying on himself and logic, until he’s forced to accept the help of an impulsive, spirited goldsmith who follows her instincts, wherever they may lead. When Tempest MacKenzie witnesses a gorgeous stranger being bundled into a van, she tries to help him, but becomes tangled in a complex web of intrigue. Tempest finds stubborn Jake attractive, compelling and infuriating, his logic the complete antithesis of her reliance on her instincts. And Jake is fascinated and attracted to the feisty redhead. As they spend time together trying to thwart a heist at the British Museum, the attraction between them flares out of control. The thief has a grudge against Jake, and danger stalks their every move. Will Jake learn to trust Tempest’s intuition, before it’s too late?
Dashing and dangerous Andre Raveneau is the Revolutionary War’s most reckless privateer captain when Devon Lindsay stows away aboard his ship after her Connecticut town has been burned by the British. Raveneau sardonically agrees to deliver her to her childhood sweetheart in Virginia but doesn’t count on his own potent attraction to the enchanting, courageous Devon.
Through high adventure, swashbuckling sea battles, and the colorful history of America’s revolution, the couple battles the fiery passion that binds them together.
The lives of three people collide over mass murder at a Kansas City residence that Special Agent Jack Davis has carefully staked out for weeks. Kate Scranton, whose job is spotting lies for high-priced courtroom lawyers, is convinced that mild-mannered Latrell Kelly knows something about the crime. But Latrell is hiding far more than Kate can guess. And with Jack half-blinded by an imploding personal life, and someone on his own side leaking crucial information, they’re headed straight for the ultimate danger zone.
Someone ripped off Jake Lassiter’s favorite client, octogenarian Sam Kazdoy, stealing $1.6 million in negotiable bonds. Then Jake’s old Buddy, Berto Zaldivar, a lawyer-turned-smuggler, ends up dead. The trail of clues from both crimes leads to a sinister professional windsurfer and his companion, Lila Summers, herself a champion athlete and a lethal femme fatale. Jake chases the missing money and the mysterious woman from Miami to Bimini to Maui where, in an explosive finale he learns lessons never taught on the football field or in the courtroom.
Sixty years ago Abe Griffin saved the world and gained eternal youth. Or so he thought.
Now, a man that Abe believed to be long dead is killing the surviving members of Abe’s old squad in order to reclaim the relics that they have kept hidden for decades.
The relics form an ancient beacon that must never be used, in a ritual that must never be completed. But the end of the world requires more than just activating the beacon. It requires Abe.
With help from the granddaughter of his oldest friend, Abe must learn the truth about his immortal body, while at the same time trying to stop a horrifying series of supernatural opponents from sweeping away everything that he cares about.
Hannah Talbot has no one. Forced to leave the only home she’s ever known, she works for a cruel employer who brutally takes the one thing she has left–her dignity. When she is banished from London, she is certain God has turned his back on her.
John Bradshaw was a successful businessman whose untamed spirit sometimes wanted more. When he is betrayed by those closest to him, he loses everything–his wife, his business, even his freedom. John’s and Hannah’s paths are about to cross. Aboard a ghastly, nineteenth-century prison ship from London to Australia, John and Hannah must keep hope alive and trust God’s unconditional love.
Ruby Torvald and her young sister, Opal, have received an inheritance from their long-lost father who left home years ago to seek his fortune in the Black Hills. When they leave their comfortable situation in Chicago and arrive at the mining town of Medora to claim their inheritance, the sisters discover that rather than the legacy of gold they expected, their father has left them a shocking bequest. Ruby’s bold determination in the face of scandal leads the reader on a journey both heartwarming and inspiring.
Fifteen years old. Wanted:Dead or Alive”Don’t love a spy,” warns fifteen year old Pinkerton agent Maddie Bradford, a lonely, rebellious outsider with a mind on fire and a photographic memory. It is 1861, the Civil War has just started and this motherless teen must move with her soldier-father from New Hampshire to Washington, DC; a city at war, packed cheek by jowl with soldiers, Rebel spies, slave catchers, and traitors of all stripes bent on waging a war of destruction against the Union, and President Lincoln himself.Maddie’s journal, written in secret, of course, begins with her arrival at her aunt’s DC boardinghouse through the first year of the Civil War, a time as Maddie puts it, “full of dips and dangers,” when she becomes a fearless Union spy. And then there is the mysterious, maddening Jake Whitestone, a young man who awakens something equally dangerous in Maddie: Love in a time of terror.
When a radical lawyer discovers that his innocent clients are being convicted as state policy, he strives to give them a voice in the political arena. But revealing the government to be an elite club leaves his own freedoms under threat and with his lover, a suffering client, he’s thrown into a global adventure pursued by the British Government, its navy and its allies.
Engaged against her will, Calista, a young Roman aristocrat, grapples with the annihilation of her world at the hands of her would-be husband. The violent aftermath uncovers a connection to the mythological land of Atlantis, shattering Calista’s conception of family, the gods—and herself.
As the Weather Wars consume the planet and resources run out, Dr. Killiam is rushing to perfect synthetic reality as the solution to save the world. Synthetic reality opens more than just doors to virtual worlds and wealth and power, however, and Dr. Killiam unwittingly awakens an ancient evil dwelling in quantum spaces as man and machine hurtle together over the singularity event.
“I used to be human, but now, I’m just a monster.”
A beautiful monster.
That’s what Scarlet Prince became after she was damned to a nocturnal world crawling with sphinxes, gargoyles, and necromancers. If only she’d heeded the warnings of the local legend, none of this would have happened.
With a dark destiny haunting her and unearthly powers she can’t control, she is torn between freeing the inhabitants of Dark World and satiating her lust for souls, until she finds the one thing she never expected in a war-torn netherworld: Love.
Only he’s the enemy. Loving him could very well destroy the entire realm—and every human on earth.
“Life isn’t like a romance novel.”
For Jenna Lansing, meeting the star of her favorite TV drama was a strange fluke, as well as a thrill. When Kinsey Sutton tells her he’d like to continue seeing her, that was icing on the cake. But there’s one big problem with this budding relationship: geography.
He’s west coast, she’s east coast. Spending time together is no easy task. And lesser problems are myriad: he’s an LA actor with a crazy schedule, she’s a suburban soccer-mom who keeps regular family hours. Not to mention the difference in their love lives… One’s a Hollywood player and other a divorced single mother–a recipe for certain disaster. What’s the likelihood of this mismatched pair having a “happily ever after”? Their feelings for each other are not the issue. It’s everything else that threatens to get in the way.
MYSTERY DANCE: An omnibus edition containing more than 200,000 words.
Features the complete text of the #1 bestselling mystery and suspense novel Disintegration, The Skull Ring, Crime Beat, two short stories, a bonus deleted chapter from Disintegration, and two essays about the novels.
DISINTEGRATION– Two brothers view for a family empire built on deceit, dark secrets, and blood, and one woman stands between them while another waits in the shadows. Jacob’s life falls apart when his brother Joshua returns to town after a tragic fire and they return to the twisted roles of their childhood.
THE SKULL RING– Julia Stone pieces together her shattered childhood memories, but then the past comes closing in when she finds a mysterious silver ring. Three men want to help her, but choosing the wrong ally can cost not only her heart but her soul.
CRIME BEAT– Crime doesn’t pay…but neither does journalism. When a new reporter moves to a small town, a crime spree escalates into serial killing.
Fav 15
January 1st, 2012
Morning Loves! I hope all of you had a wonderful night partying like it’s 1999! Me? I made fried chicken and drank cheap wine, (welcome to Texas) Anyways… I plan on writing a “Good riddance 2011″ post, but before I can get to that I have 2 other things to share with you. 1 being this post. My top 15 books of 2011 & the other being yesterday’s freebie list that I punked out on.
Anyway, a couple of things about this list. A. I didn’t write reviews for all of these books, in case you are wondering where the hell some of them came from, and B. Not all of these books were actually published in 2011, I just read them in 2011, so before you get all finger waggy with me, I warned you.
So.. without further adieu… here are the 15 books from 2011 that made me happy/sad/terrified/reflective and an appreciative reader! Happy Reading. See you in a few.
P.S. – These are in no particular order AND I don’t have links attached to them, but by clicking on the image it will enlarge and you can see the title and author.
My “You Should Totally Freaking Read These List!”
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