Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Bound to the Bounty Hunter by Hayson Manning

BttBHBlitzBanner
I'm thrilled to be participating in the official Book Blitz for Hayson Manning's latest contemporary romance, BOUND TO THE BOUNTY HUNTER! Harlan Franco is the alpha hero you've been waiting for, and the chemistry between him and Sophie is off the charts! I've got all of the details about the book, including a sneak peek excerpt from he book, so sit back and enjoy!
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Bound_to_the_Bounty_Hunter-500

About BOUND TO THE BOUNTY HUNTER:

Harlan Franco, Colorado's busiest bounty hunter and security expert, lives by his own rules: be in control, be detached, and never mix business with pleasure. These rules are tested when the woman he's being paid to secretly guard is none other than the sexy, unpredictable, pain in the butt, Sophie Callaghan––a woman determined to stay away from him. If Sophie finds out he’s in her life on an assignment, he'll never get the info he needs. But those lips, those curves, that attitude… If he could only have her for one night where she'd play by his rules.

Freedom-loving private investigator Sophie Callaghan is on a mission. The daughter of a con-artist is not going to be used by a man again. What she doesn't need is hot, broody, and controlling Harlan barging into her life. Her brain may say no, but her body craves this bad boy.

After a night where both live out their darkest desires, Sophie tries to fight the explosive chemistry between them. But the ties that bind her heart to this bounty hunter are tight and tangled.
***
Bound to the Bounty Hunter (3) #DONE #3

Excerpt from BOUND TO THE BOUNTY HUNTER:

Two older women plunked their butts down beside her. According to their conversation, they were leaving their menfolk behind to see Thunder From Down Under and live it up a little. They’d saved their bingo money and, apparently, Thunder From Down Under was in for a treat.

“Delores. Check out that honey walking toward us. I hope he’s in the show’s lineup.

There’ll be some five dollar bills in his Calvin Kleins.”

“Lordy be, Phyllis. That’s a fine-looking man. Now, if I were ten years younger.”

“Twenty, Delores.”

A barrage of cackles followed.

“Morning ladies.” A deep, throaty, and familiar voice replied.

Sophie’s heart missed a painful beat. “What are you doing here?”

“Going to have some fun in Vegas. There’s hours left on the clock.” Harlan trailed his knuckle down her cheek, leaving a trail of fire.

Her spine snapped straight. She stood, hands on her hips, her throat tight. “No you’re not.”

“Yeah. I. Am.” Harlan grinned down at a pissed off Sophie with flashing dark eyes, her kissable mouth in a thin line, color on her cheeks.

Her dark eyes narrowed. “No, you’re not.”

“Yeah, I am.” He sat beside her and pulled her close, her soft curves molding against him, then tucked her hair behind her ears. “I’m not leaving you unprotected.”

“Well, ain’t she the lucky one,” one of the older women sitting next to Sophie said. “If I was her, I’d be heading to Victoria’s Secret.”

Her companion elbowed her in the ribs. “Delores, I wouldn’t be packing any of Victoria’s Secrets.”

Harlan grinned at the older women then bent his head. “We could go shopping. I hope you brought that little black thong. Seeing you in your Pipe’s uniform, gotta say, I’m glad we’re hitting the City of Sin.” He ran his finger along her jaw. His voice still soft, he said, “Don’t wear underwear tomorrow.”

Her head snapped back, her face red. “I am so wearing underwear.”

He nuzzled her ear. “When I walk up behind you, I’ll flick up your short, short skirt and in one thrust be inside you.”

She shivered under his touch.

“I didn’t bring a skirt, so that isn’t happening, and I’ve got a spare set of underwear,” she said from the corner of her mouth.

No mention of the thong. He had plans of removing the thong with his teeth.

“Did you bring your uniform?” He kissed her collarbone, dragging his lips up her neck.

She stilled at his touch.

“Stop it. We’re in public,” she whispered, her head whipping left, then right, as if she’d been caught stealing from a collection plate. “And yes,” she said in a quiet voice, shooting him a look from under her lashes then looking away. Her bottom lip snagged between her teeth.

“Yes what?”

So caught up in the image of removing the thong from her body, he’d lost the thread of the conversation.

“Yes, I have my uniform.” The image of Sophie walking next to him in Vegas had his cock appreciating the picture.

Wait.

Sophie in that skirt in Vegas.

He hadn’t thought this through.

Sophie walking around Vegas in sheer black stockings with her long legs on display and silver studs across her breasts spelling out “Pipe’s” would have more men wanting Sophie than he could handle.

He grabbed her hand, sat, and pulled her down beside him. “I’ve changed my mind. Don’t wear it.”
***

HaysonManningPhoto About Hayson Manning:

I love Princess Bride, Young and the Restless, Days of our Lives—the drama is deliciously addictive. Big Bang Theory but will take Wolowitz over Cooper. Star Trek not Star Wars. Undercover Boss, Secret Millionaire—any story that shows the little guy making it. I follow the Buffalo Bills like a religion. I am spellbound by showjumping and equestrian eventing. I love curling up and reading all books—no genre is off-topic. I like ironing, hate peas, love donkeys. I play a killer game of Scrabble, but usually lose. I will often be heading towards the fridge for another Diet Coke. I eat nothing with legs and believe wine goes with everything, oh and I’m an expert at finding new and inventive ways to avoid exercise.

I live in the sparkly beachside suburb of Redondo Beach in California with my fake Gordon Ramsay and two boys who speak in mystifying grunts.
Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Newsletter
***

Tuesday, July 26, 2016

The Secret Language of Stones by M.J. Rose

M. J. Rose

on Tour

July 19-28

with

The Secret Language of Stones

The Secret Language of Stones

(historical fiction)

Release date: July 19, 2016
by Atria Books/Simon & Schuster

ISBN: 978-1-4767-7809-9
320 pages

Author’s page | Goodreads


SYNOPSIS


AS WORLD WAR I RAGES AND THE ROMANOV DYNASTY REACHES ITS SUDDEN, BRUTAL END, A YOUNG JEWELRY MAKER DISCOVERS LOVE, PASSION, AND HER OWN HEALING POWERS IN THIS RICH AND ROMANTIC NOVEL BY NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR M.J. ROSE.
Nestled deep within Paris’s historic Palais Royal, safe inside La Fantasie Russie’s once-bustling workshop, young, ambitious Opaline Duplessi spends her days making trench watches for soldiers at the front and mourning jewelry for the mothers, wives, and lovers of those who have fallen. Opaline has a rare gift, a form of lithomancy that allows her to translate the energy emanating from stones. Certain gemstones enable her to receive messages from beyond. In her mind, she is no mystic, but merely a messenger giving voice to soldiers who died before they were able to properly express themselves to loved ones. Until one day, one of these fallen soldiers communicates a message—directly to her. So begins a dangerous journey that will take Opaline into the darkest corners of wartime Paris and across the English Channel, where the exiled Romanov dowager empress is waiting to discover the fate of her family.

Full of romance, seduction, and a love so powerful it reaches beyond the grave, The Secret Language of Stones is yet another “entrancing read that will long be savored” (Library Journal, starred review).
“Spellbinding.” —Alyson Richman, author of The Lost Wife
My Review
Four Stars
Copy received from France Book Tours for an honest review
I really enjoyed "The Secret Language of Stones" by M.J. Rose.  I enjoy books set during WW I and Rose's characters always feel real and developed. Opaline and Jean Luc had great chemistry. I liked to see how Opaline grew and developed as an individual and also as a couple with Jean Luc.  Since I enjoyed "The Witch of Painted Sorrows" I was really looking forward to this books since it is a continuation. Just like the previous book I liked how Rose included both the magical elements of the story with the historical parts.  Rose is a very unique author who blends characterizations well with plot and this book was no exception. 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

mj-rose

M.J. Rose
grew up in New York City
exploring the labyrinthine galleries
of the Metropolitan Museum
and the dark tunnels and lush gardens of Central Park
—and reading her mother’s favorite books
before she was allowed.
She is the author of more than a dozen novels,
the co-president and founding board member of International Thriller Writers,
and the founder of the first marketing company for authors, AuthorBuzz.com.
She lives in Greenwich, Connecticut.

Please visit her website, her blog: Museum of Mysteries
Subscribe to her mailing list and get information about new releases, free book downloads,
contests, excerpts and more.
Or send an email to TheFictionofMJRose-subscribe at yahoogroups dot com

To send M.J. a message and/or request a signed bookplate, send an email to mjroseauthor at gmail dot com

Follow her on Facebook and Twitter

Buy the book: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Indiebound | Books A Million

***

You can enter the global giveaway here
or on any other book blogs participating in this tour.
Be sure to follow each participant on Twitter/Facebook,
they are listed in the entry form below
.

Enter here

Visit each blogger on the tour:
tweeting about the giveaway everyday
of the Tour will give you 5 extra entries each time!
[just follow the directions on the entry-form]

Global giveaway open to US residents only:
9 participants will each win a print copy of this book.

***

CLICK ON THE BANNER
TO READ REVIEWS, GUEST-POST AND EXCERPT

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The Price of Prosperity by Todd G. Buchholz

The Price of Prosperity coverAbout The Price of Prosperity

• Hardcover: 384 pages
• Publisher: Harper (June 7, 2016)

In this bold history and manifesto, a former White House director of economic policy exposes the economic, political, and cultural cracks that wealthy nations face and makes the case for transforming those same vulnerabilities into sources of strength—and the foundation of a national renewal.

America and other developed countries, including Germany, Japan, France, and Great Britain are in desperate straits. The loss of community, a contracting jobs market, immigration fears, rising globalization, and poisonous partisanship—the adverse price of unprecedented prosperity—are pushing these nations to the brink.

Acclaimed author, economist, hedge fund manager, and presidential advisor Todd G. Buchholz argues that without a sense of common purpose and shared identity, nations can collapse. The signs are everywhere: Reckless financial markets encourage people to gamble with other people’s money. A coddling educational culture removes the stigma of underachievement. Community traditions such as American Legion cookouts and patriotic parades are derided as corny or jingoistic. Newcomers are watched with suspicion and contempt.

As Buchholz makes clear, the United States is not the first country to suffer these fissures. In The Price of Prosperity he examines the fates of previous empires—those that have fallen as well as those extricated from near-collapse and the ruins of war thanks to the vision and efforts of strong leaders. He then identifies what great leaders do to fend off the forces that tear nations apart.

Is the loss of empire inevitable? No. Can a community spirit be restored in the U.S. and in Europe? The answer is a resounding yes. We cannot retrieve the jobs of our grandparents, but we can embrace uniquely American traditions, while building new foundations for growth and change. Buchholz offers a roadmap to recovery, and calls for a revival of national pride and patriotism to help us come together once again to protect the nation and ensure our future.

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Todd G. Buchholz APAbout Todd G. Buchholz

Todd G. Buchholz is a former White House director of economic policy, managing director of the legendary Tiger hedge fund, and winner of Harvard’s annual teaching prize in economics. He is the author of New Ideas from Dead Economists and New Ideas from Dead CEOs, and has written for the New York Times, the Wall Street Journal, Time, and Forbes. He regularly appears on PBS, NPR, Fox, and CNBC, and is a co-producer of the Broadway hit Jersey Boys. Buchholz has served as a fellow at Cambridge University and is the inventor of the Math Arrow Matrix. He lives in Southern California.

Find out more about Buchholz at his website.

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Reaper’s Fire Excerpt Reveal


 






Excerpt
Tinker
It was almost seven that evening when I felt the AC kick back on. I’d been lying on my back on the (relatively) cool tile floor behind the counter, staring up at the pressed-tin ceiling and trying to remember why I hadn’t already moved back to Seattle.
In Seattle it rained.
Cool breezes blew off the bay and the lush greenery covered everything with its shaded canopy. People didn’t really need air-conditioning, but if they happened to have it and it broke, there were lots of repair men available.
Of course, Seattle also had Brandon. Not only that, my dad didn’t want to move, and I’d come to realize I couldn’t leave him here alone. It wasn’t safe for him, not since Mom died.
Ugh.
At least the AC was working again, blowing down from the ceiling vent across my sweaty body, reminding me that while the world might not be crawling with perfect men, at least there were still a few useful ones running around. Cooper Romero was a keeper, and it had nothing to do with how sexy he was . . . although the fact that he was sex on a stick—make that sex with a stick—didn’t exactly diminish his appeal.
When I’d dragged him up to the black tar roof to show him the ancient AC, I’d expected him to make a run for it. Any sensible man would. Instead, he’d spent the whole afternoon busting his ass to save my chocolates—Oh God, I wish that were code for something more exciting—officially qualifying him as a superhero in my book.
As for me, there wasn’t much I could do once I got all the sweets safely downstairs into the basement. There weren’t any customers walking in off the street, and seeing as I couldn’t make or ship candy in a 102-degree shop, I’d alternated between attempting to read a book, looking over orders I couldn’t fulfill on my laptop, and bringing Cooper glasses of iced tea. I’d been nervous around him at first, but you can only stay nervous for so long when you’re sweating like a pig—there’s a certain freedom in knowing you look like hell and there’s no saving your hair. I’d thrown my arm across my eyes in a pathetic attempt to block out reality toward the end.
When cold air started flowing into the room, I could’ve cried with relief. He’d never had a chance to fill out the application form, and I’d long since decided it didn’t matter. Unless he was an ax murderer, I’d give him the apartment and the job.
Might give it to him even if he was, to be honest.
“It’s working again,” Cooper announced, and I jerked, startled. Shit, had I fallen asleep? Opening my eyes, I looked up to find him standing over me. Dear God in heaven—that was one hell of a bare chest.
Holy. Shit.
I’d taken note of his build when he first walked in the shop, but everything under his shirt had been theoretical. Now there was six-foot-plus of raw sex appeal right there, all sweaty and sculpted and . . . well, let’s just say I’d be stopping off on the way home to pick up some fresh batteries.
That’s when the situation hit me—Cooper Romero was the hottest man I’d met in forever, and he’d just found me lying on the floor in my own sweat and filth like a dog. Typical luck. I scrambled to my feet, pretending I wasn’t totally embarrassed (I was) and not in the least bit freaked out by how unspeakably attractive this guy was. Okay, “attractive” wasn’t quite the right word, because it implied a certain level of polish and class that just didn’t fit Cooper at all.
Brandon was attractive.
Cooper?
I’d lick him all over and massage his butt if he asked. He stared down at me, his eyes carefully blank, making it very clear he wasn’t asking. Story of my fucking life. Sitting up, I pushed myself to my feet without bothering to dust off. Lost cause at this point.
“Not sure how much life the AC has left,” he said slowly. “I managed to get it going, but fixing it right would cost more than it’s worth and then some.”
Of course it would.
“I just need to get through the summer,” I told him, wiping a finger under my eye. My perfectly applied, vintage-style makeup had melted, leaving me with a clown face. Fortunately I’d (mostly) given up on caring three hours ago, right around the time I’d discovered the floor tiles were cooler than the rest of the room. “After that, I’ll worry about the furnace and by next summer I might not even be here anymore.”
“Really?” he asked, cocking a brow. “You selling out?”
“Not sure,” I told him. “I’m not thinking that far ahead right now. Things are very iffy with my dad . . . I think he’s got some—”
No. I couldn’t say it. Saying it out loud made it too real, plus the last thing I needed were a bunch of rumors flying around town. So far we’d kept dad’s situation mostly to family and friends.
“Tinker?”
Shaking myself, I smiled at him. “Thank you so much for fixing that. I’m not even sure what I would’ve done—I can’t afford to miss a week’s worth of orders. Not only would it put me behind, it would burn my customers.”
He nodded, studying me thoughtfully. God, he really was beautiful . . . Nothing like Brandon’s polished sophistication. No, Cooper gave off more of a warrior-tossing-you-over-his-fearless-steed kind of vibe. Yeah, like that would end well, because my track record with men was so fucking perfect, right?
Pull your head out of the gutter. He probably has a girlfriend.
At least I could finally lock up this hellhole of a shop and get a shower.
“Thank you so much—you have no idea how much I appreciate it.”
“No, but the whole throwing yourself at my feet thing was a subtle hint,” he said, and I realized he was teasing me. Was he flirting? I couldn’t decide if that kicked ass or scared the shit out of me.
“Anyway, it’s getting late,” I told him, feeling suddenly awkward. “I’m going to grab some dinner down the street, and then I could take you over and show you the apartment.”
A small, knowing smile crossed his face, and I realized he thought I was hitting on him.
“No,” I said quickly, mortified. “I wasn’t asking you out. Omigod, this is weird.”
“What, you aren’t turned on by a man who smells like old socks?” he asked lightly, raising his arm and giving a sniff. He was joking, but the sweat wasn’t a turnoff. Nope. Not even a little bit. “If that’s not enough for you, the roof tar on my ass should be a big attraction.”
Closing my eyes, I bit back a groan. He started laughing. Not in a cruel way, but companionably, which I guess made sense because both of us were disgusting as hell. Of course, now I wanted to check out his ass, but I managed to keep my eyes on target (mostly) when I answered him.
“Well, it’s sexy but I’ll manage to control myself somehow. I do want to grab dinner, though, and we need to figure out the apartment details.”
“I’ll take the place, doesn’t matter what it is,” he replied. “I’m in a hotel and it’s getting old. I’d love to move in on Sunday, but I can’t go look at it right now—gotta get my ass cleaned up. Meeting up with someone later.”
Of course he was, because men who looked like Cooper didn’t spend Friday nights alone.
“Sounds great,” I told him, refusing to show any disappointment. “Just text me when you’re ready, and I’ll get you the key.”
He opened his mouth to say something, but a sudden pounding against the locked shop door caught us both off guard. I spun around to find Talia Jackson glaring at me through the glass. Talia and three of her skankier friends, including Sadie Baxter, a girl I used to babysit when I was in college.
A girl who was now twenty.
Damn.
“Cooper!” Talia shouted. “What the fuck are you doing?”
I glanced at my new handyman, startled. Talia Jackson and her brother, Marsh, were two of the nastiest people I’d ever met. Marsh was president of the local motorcycle gang, a group called the Nighthawk Raiders motorcycle club. The club had been around most of my life, but it was only in recent years that they’d turned really bad. I mean, they were never the kinder, gentler sort of bikers, but I’d never been actively afraid when I’d heard a motorcycle, either.
Now? Let’s just say we’d all gotten a little edgy.
“That’s my girl,” Cooper said, and something deep down inside of me died a little. Of course he’d go for someone like Talia. She might have the heart of a deranged circus clown—you know, the kind that survives by eating the souls of innocent children—but she was hot.
Really hot.
Not only that, she was slutty, and while I wasn’t into the whole slut-shaming thing (like I had room to judge after the bachelorette party debacle . . . ugh), I wasn’t naive enough to think he was attracted to her personality. Cooper Romero might have a sweet smile, and he’d fixed my AC, but now I had proof positive that he’d never be into a girl like me.
Specifically, a grown-up with curves.
All righty, then. Probably for the best anyway.
“Just a sec!” I called to her, determined to take the high road, then I grabbed my keys so I could open the door. She pushed inside with her posse, and I do mean pushed. Little bitch shoved me so hard I nearly knocked over the display of antique Russian teacups my mother had lovingly collected. (So far as I knew, she’d never sold a single one of them, but it’d made her happy.)
“Careful,” I warned, and Talia turned on me.
“What did you just say to me?”
“Babe, let’s talk,” Cooper said, catching her arm and pulling her into his body. She squealed, going from aggressive to flirty in an instant.
“You’re all sweaty. It’s sooo disgusting.”
I noted she wasn’t trying to get away. Cooper smiled down at her, a hint of something feral in his eyes. Yeah, okay—whatever smile he’d been giving me, it hadn’t held any of that kind of intensity.
Yours truly was officially chopped liver.
“I was just about to head out and grab a shower,” he told her. “Wanna come with me?”
She pouted. “I can’t. The girls and I need to get fixed up. I’ll see you at the bar, though, right?”
He looked down at her, offering a sexy, indulgent smile. “Can’t wait.”
“Perfect,” she said, reaching around to grab his ass for a quick squeeze. Then she turned and strutted back out without a word to me, her gaggle of girls following like well-trained geese. Sadie gave a little finger wave on the way. The door closed behind them with a cheerful little jingle, and I wondered why the hell I even bothered with Hallies Falls.
I missed Seattle.
So what if it had Brandon? I could drown him in Lake Washington. Problem solved.
“Sorry about that—Talia is a little high-strung,” Cooper said.
“Oh, I know all about her,” I replied, hoping I didn’t sound as catty as I felt. Cooper didn’t seem to notice.
“I’m new to town, but she’s been showing me around,” Cooper continued, stepping over to stand in front of me, hands shoved deep in his front pockets. “I should get going.”
“Of course—don’t let me keep you. What time do you think you’ll be in touch tomorrow?”
“Afternoon work?”
“No problem. Looking forward to hearing from you.”
He nodded and pushed through the door, walking down the street without a second look back. I locked up behind him, wondering why all the hottest guys were douchebags. Not that Cooper had acted like a douche, but he had to be my age or older—late thirties—and Talia was the same age as Sadie. She was also a raging bitch. There was only one reason a man like him would date a girl like that, and it had nothing to do with personality or character.
Cooper Romero might be beautiful, but obviously he was shallow. Suppose it was too much to hope for a man who could fix an air conditioner and have a soul at the same time.
Pity

.
 






Are you ready for Gage and Tinker’s story?
Reaper’s Fire releases on August 9th!

Google Play:  http://bit.ly/1SxRDaQ

 

Blurb
New York Times bestselling author Joanna Wylde returns to the “wild and raw”* world of the Reapers MC with the story of Gage and Tinker…

The club comes first.

I’ve lived by those words my whole life—assumed I’d die by them, too, and I never had a problem with that. My Reaper brothers took my back and I took theirs and it was enough. Then I met her. Tinker Garrett. She’s beautiful, she’s loyal, and she works so damned hard it scares me sometimes . . . She deserves a good man—one better than me. I can’t take her yet because the club still needs me. There’s another woman, another job, another fight just ahead.

Now she’ll learn I’ve been lying to her all along. None of it’s real. Not my name, not my job, not even the clothes I wear. She thinks I’m nice. She pretends we’re just friends, that I’ve still got a soul . . . Mine’s been dead for years. Now I’m on fire for this woman, and a man can only burn for so long before he destroys everything around him.

I’m coming for you, Tinker.

Soon.








Have you heard?
Reaper’s Property by Joanna Wylde has a NEW COVER!


Meet Horse & Marie for ONLY $3.99 (normally $7.99)
Author’s Note: This book was originally released through a small publisher in 2013. This independent edition has been lightly edited, and contains a bonus short, “Sticky Sweet” (originally published on the author’s website) and a Q&A with the author.







About the Author
joanna wylde.jpg
Joanna Wylde is a New York Times bestselling author and creator of the Reapers Motorcycle Club series. She currently lives in Idaho.

Stalk Her: Website | Facebook | TwitterGoodreads






THANK YOU!

TRSOR_PROMOTIONS.jpg

Grace Without God by Katherine Ozment

Grace Without God coverAbout Grace Without God

• Hardcover: 320 pages
• Publisher: Harper Wave (June 21, 2016)

Meet “the Nones”—In this thought-provoking exploration of secular America, celebrated journalist Katherine Ozment takes readers on a quest to understand the trends and ramifications of a nation in flight from organized religion.

Studies show that religion makes us happier, healthier and more giving, connecting us to our past and creating tight communal bonds. Most Americans are raised in a religious tradition, but in recent decades many have begun to leave religion, and with it their ancient rituals, mythic narratives, and sense of belonging.

So how do the nonreligious fill the need for ritual, story, community, and, above all, purpose and meaning without the one-stop shop of religion? What do they do with the space left after religion? With Nones swelling to one-fourth of American adults, and more than one-third of those under thirty, these questions have never been more urgent.

Writer, journalist, and secular mother of three Katherine Ozment came face-to-face with the fundamental issue of the Nones when her son asked her the simplest of questions: “what are we?” Unsettled by her reply—“Nothing”—she set out on a journey to find a better answer. She traversed the frontier of American secular life, sought guidance in science and the humanities, talked with noted scholars, and wrestled with her own family’s attempts to find meaning and connection after religion.

Insightful, surprising, and compelling, Grace Without God is both a personal and critical exploration of the many ways nonreligious Americans create their own meaning and purpose in an increasingly secular age.


My Review:
Four Stars
Copy received from TLC Book Tours for an honest review
I was immediately drawn to this book because of the title and its description.  Ozment presents both her own personal reflections on her journey through life and it's quest for connection.  While I think this connection is often times associated with religion, once I finished the book, it was the message that resonated with me. While also sharing her own personal struggles, Ozment gives information on different types of faiths and how they form a connection to lives big questions.I loved how the author explains that not all labels such as "catholic" "Greek orthodox" etc encompass people's beliefs and even their traditions.  I loved her definition of "homesickness" and what it would mean for her family and for her.  Since, I have young children, I found it interesting that for her young children  they would also equate a disconnection with "homesickness." I found this book to be an enjoyable journey.  I also liked that there was nothing preachy about her journey, simply reflections on moments in life and our human search for longing and connection. Finally, this is a great read for anyone. It can extent to a religious person or nonsecular. 
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Katherine Ozment AP photo by Chris KirzederAbout Katherine Ozment

Katherine Ozment is an award-winning journalist and former senior editor at National Geographic. Her essays and articles have been widely published in such venues as the New York Times, National Geographic, and Salon. She lives in Chicago with her husband and children.

Find out more about Katherine at her website, and connect with her on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

Monday, July 18, 2016

Reaper's Property by Joanna Wylde

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Presents

COVER REVEAL:

Reaper’s Property
By Joanna Wylde





Cover Reveal
reaper's property new cover.jpg
Reaper’s Property by Joanna Wylde has a NEW COVER!

Meet Horse & Marie for ONLY $3.99 (normally $7.99)
Author’s Note: This book was originally released through a small publisher in 2013. This independent edition has been lightly edited, and contains a bonus short, “Sticky Sweet” (originally published on the author’s website) and a Q&A with the author.





Blurb

Marie doesn’t need a complication like Horse. The massive, tattooed badass biker who shows up at her brother’s house one afternoon doesn’t agree. He wants Marie on his bike and in his bed. Now.

But Marie just left her abusive jerk of an ex-husband and she’s not looking for a new man. Especially one like Horse. She doesn’t know his real name or where he lives. She’s ninety percent certain he’s a criminal and that the “business” he talked with her brother wasn’t website design. She needs him out of her life, which would be a snap if he wasn’t so damned sexy.

Horse is part of the Reapers Motorcycle Club, and when he wants something, he takes it. What is he wants is Marie, but she’s not interested in becoming some biker’s property.

Then her brother steals from the club. Now Marie can save him by giving Horse what he wants—at home, in public, on his bike… and if she’s a very, very good girl, he’ll let her brother live.


reaper's fire.jpg


Want more Reaper’s?
Gage and Tinker’s story releases on August 9th.
PRE-ORDER NOW!

Google Play:  http://bit.ly/1SxRDaQ




About the Author
joanna wylde.jpg
Joanna Wylde is a New York Times bestselling author and creator of the Reapers Motorcycle Club series. She currently lives in Idaho.

Stalk Her: Website | Facebook | Twitter |  Goodreads



THANK YOU!