Thursday, February 26, 2015

Remember Della by Cynthia Mock Burroughs Tour Kickoff

Title: Remember Della
Author: Cynthia Mock Burroughs
Length: 274 pages
Publisher: Self published
Release Date: November 9, 2011
Genre: Paranormal Mystery
Buy Here: Amazon|Create Space

Book Description:

Kat, a “slightly" psychic sixteen-year-old, begins having disturbingly persistent dreams. Dreams of a yellow scarf - with a seeming life of its own - which taunts her and haunts her every dream. Dreams about Della, a fellow classmate, who to this point has remained all but invisible to any and every one at school. Kat eventually comes to the realization that until she unravels the mystery surrounding that “dagblasted” creepy yellow scarf and this girl she hardly knows, she'll not have another night’s rest. What Kat soon discovers is that she is the only person in Della’s life (including the girl’s mother and stepfather) who recognizes - or will admit - Della has simply vanished, gone “splitsville"! And Kat is helpless as her life becomes indelibly intertwined with Della’s – so much so, that she will carry the emotional scars for years to come.

Kat is surrounded by an extremely colorful cast of characters. You will meet: long-time friend and recent love interest, Em; Kat’s precocious eight-year-old brother, Gordy; her feisty octogenarian neighbor, Mrs. Harper and a chain smoking waitress named Clovis. All who, for various reasons, join Kat’s desperate quest to help a girl she hardly knows and to find answers to questions that, with any luck, will bring her the peace she seeks – the biggest question on her mind being, “Why me?” 

“Remember Della” - which is predominately set in the South during the mid-fifties - is chock full of facts, trivia and slang from that era. While an entertaining read, I believe this book addresses bullying - both physical and emotional - in a fresh and unique way during a time before such issues were “labeled” as unacceptable or problematic.

Author Bio:

I was born and raised in the South and to this day reside in South Carolina with my dashing husband, crotchety cat and nimble Jack Russell. My first novel,Remember Della, definitely reflects that Southern upbringing; and like Katherine, my main protagonist, I am also a child of the fifties.

I have enjoyed reading my entire life and relish childhood memories of long, languid summers spent in lawn chairs beneath shady old trees—my best friend and I devouring one library book after another. I hope to be proof of the old adage that everyone has at least one good book in them—but suppose that remains to be seen. You, the reader, will be the judge of that. 

Drawing and painting have always been passions of mine, but I had never tried my hand at writing until my mother passed away several years ago. During my grieving process I found that painting was not keeping my mind as busy as I would have liked. Painting allowed me too much time to think. So in an attempt to ease my sadness, I decided to try a new creative outlet. The result was a 24,000 word children's chapter book (as yet unpublished) and a newfound love—writing! In fact, I am in love with the entire writing process, especially the part where I get to tell really tall tales—and get away with it . . .

Author Links - 

Twitter @cmburroughs 

Excerpt One

I sat at the kitchen table while Momma contemplated what to do
with the ground beef thawing out on the counter. She settled on
goulash and was checking the pantry to see if she had all the ingredients
when it occurred to her she hadn’t heard a peep out of Gordy.
The quietude must have alerted her to his absence.

She turned to me, “Where’s Gordy—up in his room?”

I shook my head no. “He’s not home yet.”

She checked her watch and asked, “Did you hear his bus come

No’m. It’s probably running late.”

Gordy should be home by now, Katherine.” She gave me a doubtful
look and asked, “You’re sure his bus hasn’t come by?”

The look of concern on her face was fleeting, and we both cringed
as Gordy heralded his arrival by slamming the front door so hard the
house shook. Momma yelled at the top of her lungs, “Gordy!” When
he came barreling through the doorway she asked, “How many times
have I told you not to slam the door like that? You’ve already taken a
minimum of ten years off my life!”
He never even heard a word she said because he was talking louder
and faster than his customary mile-a-minute. His words practically
ran together as he said, “You shoulda seen it! Sammy Spellman
throwed up all over prissy ol’ Becky Taylor on the bus! We had beets
for lunch an’ Sammy ate a whole bowl of ‘em. I bet that’s what made
him throw up. He says he likes ‘em, but I don’t believe it for a minute.
I think he just eats ‘em to show off. But the really good part is
Sammy’s throw-up was all red—like he was throwing up blood! Then
ol’ Becky started crying an’ everything, and Cindy Walker started
gagging ‘cause throw-up splattered all over her shoes an’ then she
throwed up. It was so cool! They were sitting across the aisle from
me, an’ I got to see it all. And Becky, with her weirdo-self, told Mikey
Olson she was gonna wipe throw up on him ‘cause he laughed
at her. And the bus driver had to stop the bus an’ calm everybody
down. It was Coolsville!

I could see Momma was trying to keep a straight face as she said,
Gordy that’s enough—there’s nothing cool about someone throwing
beets up all over the place.”

Well I couldn’t be sure, but from the smell of it I think Sammy
must’ve been sick at both ends. I tell–”

Gordy!!!” Gordy was treading on very thin ice.

It’s the truth! It was gross I tell ya. Gross enough to gag a maggot!
Everybody sitting around ‘em looked like they were gonna
puke—’cept me. The bus driver made everybody get off, and
the monitor had to go to somebody’s house to call for another
bus and for Sammy an’ Becky an’ Cindy’s parents to come and
get ‘em.”

Dear Lord, I hope Sammy’s not contagious.” And in spite of the fact
we weren’t Catholic, Momma crossed herself.

Excerpt Two 

I HATED THAT despicable clock. I hated the way those two nerve-jangling,
damnable bells blasted me so urgently from sleep
every morning. I snatched the clock up, shut off the alarm
and slammed the offending thing back onto the nightstand.
Throwing the covers back and my legs over the side of the
bed, I stood unsteadily a moment before aiming my body at
the door leading to the hall. Destination—the bathroom. But as
my fingers touched the doorknob the clock began its shrill intonations
again. Oh dear Lord! That sound, so early in the morning,
was the equivalent of fingernails screeeking down a chalkboard.
Hadn’t I just turned the dad-blamed thing off? Maybe I
jarred the lever into the ‘on’ position when I, perhaps a little too
vigorously, delivered the clock back to its pocked resting place.

I retraced my steps and after turning the alarm off, again,
placed the clock on the nightstand—a little more gently
this time. And for more reasons than one, I moved a wee
bit faster for the bedroom door. I reached it a second time
and stopped cold—the God-forsaken clock was, once again,
clanging for attention! With the strangest mixture of anger,
fear and foreboding I walked back, turned the alarm off a
third time and buried ‘Baby Ben’ not only under the covers,
but both pillows as well. Then I ran back to the door, jerked
it open and took off through it.

Instead of the hall outside my bedroom door, I found myself
out on the street in front of my house—still dressed in baby
doll pajamas and walking toward my bus stop. There wasn’t
time to go home and change. The school bus had arrived
and it sat idling as a half-dozen students climbed on. I waved
and yelled for them to wait, but no one seemed to hear.

Running for the bus wasn’t even an option, for it was suddenly
as if my feet and I were slogging through knee-deep
mud. I could only watch as the door closed and the bus
pulled off without me. Oddly, I felt thoroughly and utterly
bereft—as if all my hopes and dreams had taken off with that
big yellow bus.

As the bus lumbered down the road something yellow flew
out an open window. Even from where I stood I could see it
was a scarf—a yellow scarf—lifting, floating and fluttering in
the early morning breeze.

My legs came unglued and I began running after that scarf
like my life depended upon reaching it before it touched
the ground. I caught up to it, but each time I attempted to
pluck it from the air a breeze would whisk it away, lifting it
just beyond my reach over and over again. I soon began to
tire of the game and was about to abandon the chase when
the wind picked up and blew the scarf toward me instead of
away, pressing it against the lower half of my face. Slowly,
almost as if caressing me, the scarf began to move along my
skin. It slid over my mouth, under my chin, and down my neck.
Snaking round and round my throat, it became longer and
longer, tighter and tighter—and I began struggling for air . . .

Thursday, February 19, 2015

The Gospel Of Wolves Episode One by Chris Wesley - Tour Kickoff & Giveaway

Author Bio:

Chris Wesley is the award-winning author of the fiction book The Gospel of Wolves, the short fiction story Regret in Triptych and the poetry book Pack Animals. He uses his fine art photography as prompts for character sketches and settings in his fiction along with gallery shows. He has written for the music magazine Night Moves Magazine, acted in independent movies and plays; wrote, cast, directed, shot and edited an independent short movie, started bands and gone solo. He plays a few instruments and is generally considered a smart ass. He also has a thing for how we connect with each other and with ourselves.

Author Links - 

Book Genre: Contemporary Fiction
Publisher: Aristic Agenda Press
Release Date: November 1, 2014

Book Description:

Everyone is a wolf.

But putting the pack first can have different ramifications if you don’t really belong with the pack you’re hunting with in the first place.

In The Gospel of Wolves, you delve deep into the heads and hearts of four people who will take risks as they search for where they belong that will force them to make serious choices about the person they are willing to become as they cross paths with some of the cruelest sociopaths the world has to offer to ultimately find out if they are part of the pack or one of the prey.


"Mommy. I don't think daddy's gonna make it."
It wasn't just what little Melanie said, it was how she said it that caused Lindsey to duck down to eye level with her daughter before reassuring her. "Don't be silly, dear. Your father will be here any moment to get us and we'll be on our way home."
Melanie didn't seem convinced. She appeared as if she was listening to someone who was telling her something she didn't want to hear. Whomever that someone was, it wasn't her mother. She stayed down at eye level with Melanie a little while longer, brushed some of Melanie's bangs back under the hood of her coat, then stood upright and looked around the airport receiving area for her husband's car. They had been waiting for half and hour, but the airport was busy, and with the rain, there were surely traffic. She resisted the urge to pull out her cell phone and call him. After what Melanie said, Lindsey was afraid of doing anything that might encourage her to think that something really was wrong.
It seemed like half of the people driving had bought the exact same make, model, color and year of the car her husband owned. With the sky's reflection bouncing off of the windshields, the identities of the drivers remained concealed until they drove past her and Melanie. She held her frustration and impatience behind a veneer of calm that was becoming harder and harder to maintain each time she mistakenly thought she had spotted him.
If he doesn't come in the next five minutes, I'm calling him, Lindsey thought to herself. Knowing that this might upset Melanie further, Lindsey looked down to see how Melanie was fairing to gauge if she needed to provide any additional consoling before the call, but Melanie wasn't there. Lindsey glanced all around her immediate area, but her daughter was gone.
Looking to the parents of a family that had been standing next to them, she asked, "Did you see which way my daughter went? She's wearing a pink overcoat with the hood up and black stockings?"
Both of the parents gave a quick glance around, then offered sympathetic shrugs.
Lindsey forgot about her luggage and began pushing through the crowd of people yelling her daughter's name. The amount of people seemed to increase with Lindsey's anxiety and somehow, they seemed to always manage to be where she was trying to get to and move into the cracks and seams right as Lindsey attempted to peer through to catch a glimpse of where her daughter might be. Irritated by the mass of bodies, she tried stooping down to knee level thinking that looking between legs rather than around torsos might provide more gaps to peer through, but it was a moving forest of limbs that again seemed to move directly into her line of sight as quickly as she could look in a direction.

Giveaway - 

Grand Prize: A signed Photo Book “A Privileged Window” that gives insight into how I use my fine art photography with my fiction, a free ebook copy of “Regret in Triptych”, the award winning first book from the Wilderness Saga, the 6 Storycard Set “Hotel Arrianda” that extends the storyworld that “The Gospel of Wolves” takes place in.

#GospelOfWolves   #vbtcafetours   @chriswesleylive

Friday, February 13, 2015

Romantic Recovery by Waterford Adams - Tour Kickoff & Giveaway


Reflections about Valentine's Day by Waterford Adams

Through the ages St Valentine has been held as the ideal ruler of romantic intent, refinement and heroic actions. These days, instead of inspiring love, Valentine's Day flares and all too soon fizzles out for both men and women.

What happened to Men?

Many men have turned their backs on the virtue of honour by no longer wishing to lead in relationships. They show little desire for a proper courtship and depose romance by being hasty and reluctant.

What happened to Women?

Women live in a culture which clouds their natural sensitivity with unreality. Because they have to rely on social conditioning as an aside for fit and tough thinking, they forget about being faithful to romance.

What happened to Men and Women together?

The sexual area is where many Valentine's Day promises do not deliver. More often than not couples feel romantically neglected as they mistake seduction for love and sensations for feelings.

What can Men and Women do?

They can do the famous Contest of Recovery – a point-scoring
quiz in Part Three of Romantic Recovery created for singles
or couples. In this entertaining challenge the males play off the
females by making decisions in sixty-four relationship dilemmas.
The finale is a Q & A Diary which gives clarity to those intimate
concerns with sensitive suggestions to put a sparkle into your
day - all in a book by “the two wise sisters” Waterford Adams
designed for men and women seeking post-Valentine success.

How can both men and women make a change?

If males and females would grieve for the sense of
abandonment they have suffered in potentially romantic
situations, they could trace its origins to their protectors who
tended towards possessiveness, manipulation and inconsistency.
They may then recall the forgotten romantic ideal, lost in the
fear which freezes their desire to nourish self and others.

For both sexes to flourish and share the three major areas of
romantic responsibility, they can participate in the very savvy
Eighteen Point Recovery Course especially designed for couples
in The Recovering Romantic. This precious little book comes
as a free gift for anyone purchasing Romantic Recovery and
offers a change of direction for men and women wishing to
refresh their belief in the integrity and spirit of romance.

Romantic Recovery by Waterford Adams sells online at
Amazon, Book Pal, Barnes & Noble and other book sites.

Copyright © Waterford Adams 2015

Title: Romantic Recovery
Author: Waterford Adams
Length: 260 pages
Publisher: Bookpal
Release Date: September 1st 2012  Genre: Self Help 
Romantic Recovery


"Romantic Recovery" is a study of the modern relationships game, revealing the drama in the lives of the characters who perform within it. Showcasing eight well-known players: - Failed Family - Daddy's Girl - Cheating Partner - Posing Friend - Mummy's Boy - Sexual Predator - Bully - Fanatic this is a unique journey through the thrilling Contest of Recovery where females and males score points in deciding the fate of 64 relationship dilemmas. As a finale, there is an intimate eight-day diary with questions and answers designed to benefit singles or couples on a personal quest for romantic recovery.

About the Author

As co-authors Waterford Adams, we are sisters with a British cultural heritage, who were born in Australia and spent our early years in rural and remote outback regions of Queensland. During our personal histories we have lived and worked in many and various situations, and have learned through adversity that pain is a brilliant teacher. Now in our mature years and with an honourable working relationship, we specialize in the promise of romantic recovery through an ongoing commitment to peacemaking. The collective outcome of this proposal is strengthened by our individual contributions.

WATERFORD: As a registered nurse in public hospitals, I received extensive experience in observing and treating trauma and recovery. Additional periods of real life research have encouraged me to strive to locate the definitive cause of less noticeable trauma. During this study, I have developed through a foundation of insight, the wisdom to appreciate that unidentified emotional pain, if not addressed, is re-created in the form of various discordant and abusive relationship behaviours. My contribution to this book has been refined and inspired over fifteen years.

ADAMS: Teaching for nineteen years in state high schools, with further professional involvement in human relationships education, school camps, term dances and the senior formal, I had the opportunity to study young adults and gain insights into their struggles. The additional years I worked as a telephone counsellor developed my natural intuition, giving me instinctive perception in personal pain and relationship issues. My contribution to this book is to offer a potential for its readers to secure greater awareness through self discovery.

Excerpt One

The failed family is the seat where generosity is dispensed in erratic doses from nestling status through to old age. It lacks reform. The family failure creates a group of infants who convince anyone who is afraid, that less is much more than they deserve.
Our well being within this family unit is on high alert. While we may pursue a commission of excellence and social standing, close scrutiny reveals we bear the scars of bewilderment, manipulation and heavily accented progaganda.
The parents in a failed family corrupt with sentiment. They seduce their children with a measure of affection and mix it with a dash of disguised michief. They live and breathe self-contempt because they themselves have been disabled by lies.
There is little to be gained from the failed family portrait as it stands. The foundations are crudely formed. The stays and props displayed are listing badly with the trauma of old fear and unexamined pain which holds each family member to ransom.
This kind of conditioning can imprint itself upon us from very early days. It is difficult to escape being caught in its enmeshment. While ever we remain a captive, we cannot find and protect our dream.

Excerpt Two

We first started to lose our dream by competing for approval in the family of origin. The acceptance of parental manipulation stemmed from our deep rooted feelings of pain and powerlessness. By taking the protector’s malaise on board we were subjected to the spiteful and infantile game played out in the Bully portrait. It eroded our already fragile esteem.
If we are lacking in esteem we are unable to have a relationship based on equality, which impairs our ability to form an adult relationship with success. The bride in the Failed Family portrait cannot pursue her dream because she is locked into old familiar feelings of hurt and disappointment. Her decision to walk away sets a more decisive course of responsibility into motion. She needs time alone to find her freedom.
The Posing Friend portrait shows the deceptive nature of a dishonest relationship. The farce of feigned sincerity and goodwill coupled with failure to show genuine concern for a friend’s feelings, asks the question of where the posing friend’s true intent lay.
Past pain is present in everyday situations. Whenever we allow our feelings to be manipulated we will feel afraid. The man in the Cheating Partner portrait hides in the swimming pool because he is too full of fear to confront his partner. Her desertion of the relationship causes him to feel alone and betrayed. By owning his feelings in the conclusion of the portrait he is taking the first steps towards recovery.

The Daddy’s Girl portrait clearly shows the manipulated infant. She assumes a superior attitude because she deludedly believes she is daddy’s favourite. As a result she cannot maintain a fair and just relationship with anyone.
Showing complete disinterest in an adult desire for man/woman unity, the young man in the Mummy’s Boy portrait has failed to wean from his mother’s selfish obsession to dominate and manipulate his feelings. His reality has been corrupted by the misconception that her needs are paramount.
The position of the victim in the Sexual Predator portrait portrays the hopelessness of being the replacement of the sexual predator’s partner in a situation which has nothing to do with sex or love, where manipulation is the tool, and silence is its torture. However, there is a strong possibility of returning hope, because the witness has finally decided to speak.
The person in the Fanatic portrait continues the cycle of fear by side-stepping old childhood pain. The quest for maturity and wisdom cannot be fulfilled until he/she confronts his/her origins in a truthful and fearless manner.

The most successful way to address our fear in any situation of manipulation, is to see it as part of a maladjusted game. A game which can only continue to exist while we avoid our past, our feelings and our pain

Buy the book from:


Thursday, February 12, 2015

Fast-Pitch Love by Clay Cormany

Title: Fast-Pitch Love
Author: Clay Cormany
Length: 325 pages
Publisher: Astraea Press
Release Date: 3 November 2014
Genre: Young Adult
Fast-Pitch Love


Fast-Pitch Love is a coming-of-age story about a high school boy who volunteers to help his mother coach a girls softball team because he believes the “girl of his dreams” will also be an assistant coach for the team. He gets more than a few surprises and eventually discovers that romance depends on more than physical attraction.

About the Author

Before writing Fast-Pitch Love, Clay Cormany spent over 20 years
as a writer and editor for Ohio's State Board of Education. His creative work has appeared in numerous central Ohio publications, including the Columbus Dispatch and Spring Street, Columbus State Community College's literary magazine. He has also edited numerous books, including a three-volume biography of Christopher Columbus, written by a member of Italy's Senate, and A Death Prolonged by Dr. Jeff Gordon, which received coverage in the New York Times and on PBS. Fast-Pitch Love reflects the two years Cormany spent interacting with softball players and coaches both in practice and competition.

Author Links

Excerpt One

Stick pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward the center of town where most of the restaurants and fast food places were. "I saw you scoping out Stephanie during the history final," he said while they waited on a traffic light. "Man, you’re way out of bounds with her." "I know," Jace answered. "But who says I can’t dream?" "I wouldn’t even risk doing that, Slo-Mo. If that gorilla boyfriend of hers ever gets wind of what’s on your mind, your dream could become a nightmare real quick." "Who’s going to tell him — you?" "Are you kidding? He’s no friend of mine, although he might make a good pet if you could find a big enough cage." The light turned green, and Stick shot through the intersection. Jace shook his head and frowned. "I just want a chance with her. Just one chance. Maybe something could happen between us. If she’s not interested, okay. That wouldn’t kill me. What’s killing me is that I don’t know and never will as long as –" "Carson's in the way?" "Exactly." Stick took a hand off the steering wheel and rubbed his chin as if he were a wise old man with a long beard. "King Kong is a problem," he admitted. "No doubt about that." Then a mischievous grin took shape. "But maybe not as much as you think." "What do you mean?" Jace's voice betrayed both hope and anxiety. At that moment, Stick pulled into Burger World and stopped in front of the menu board. A large globe with a painted-on face and a chef’s hat asked for their order. Stick glanced at Jace. "Want anything?" "No thanks. I’m not that hungry. Now what did you mean –" "Well, I am. Give me a Global Burger with everything, medium fries, and large vanilla shake." "That will be four twenty-five," the talking globe said in its buzz saw-like voice. "Please pull up to the window." While they waited for Stick’s food, Jace again asked, "What did you mean when you said Carson may not be that much of a problem?" Stick leaned back and put his hands behind his head. "I found out Carson might not be spending much time around Ridgeview this summer," he said. "Why not?" "He’s got himself a job at a lumber yard up in Michigan. Plus, he’s going to be visiting some colleges that want him to play football for them." "How long will he be gone?" "I don’t know. But Michigan is pretty far from central Ohio, so if he’s going way up there, he’ll probably stay awhile. A few weeks anyway, wouldn’t you think?" "Yeah, makes sense." "Long enough for a clever rival to make his move."

Excerpt Two

The next practice was tougher. Martha put the girls through running drills, having them sprint around the bases three times at the beginning and twice at the end. In between, she pushed them to sharpen their defensive skills. She taught them how to run-down an opposing player caught between two bases; she urged them to call for balls hit high, so they didn’t collide with a teammate; she organized a "round-the-clock" fielding exercise whereby one girl at a time ran the bases in reverse, stopping at each infield position to handle a batted ball. Jace and Sylvia hit pop-ups, liners, bouncers, and grounders over and over again to the Valkyries while Martha watched and evaluated each player. Most of the girls showed improvement. The one exception was Lauren, who lacked the speed and agility to catch anything not hit straight to her. At one point she slammed her glove on the ground. "It’s hopeless!" she yelled, almost in tears. "I’m a worthless klutz! I’m quitting the team." She began to stomp toward the bench. "Come on, Lauren!" Martha shouted. "Don’t quit! We need you!" "Why — for a mascot?" Lauren shot back. "No, we need you to play," Martha continued. "You could be a great hitter. We all saw that last week. You just need more practice in the field." "Jace, why don’t you grab your glove and go out there with Lauren?" Sylvia suggested. Jace, who had just finished a round of hitting balls, gave her a puzzled look. "What good will that do?" "Just stand next to her and encourage her." He looked toward his mother, pacing along the first-base foul line. She nodded. Jace ran behind the backstop where his mitt rested on the ground. After putting it on, he had the strange feeling that something soft and gooey was on his fingers. What could it be and how did it get there? No time to think about it. He trotted out next to Lauren as Sylvia prepared to hit the next ball. It went toward Angela in right field, but Jace didn’t see her catch it, because his eyes were riveted on his glove. Something was happening inside of it, something bad. The gooey feeling was still there, but now there was also a feeling of heat that grew more intense by the second. The next ball off Sylvia’s bat went toward center field, but Jace didn’t see that one caught either. He was too busy tearing at his glove, flinging it away, and clawing at his hand, which felt as if it were on fire. He stumbled to his knees. "Arrrrrgh," he bellowed, as he rubbed his hand back and forth on the grass, trying to remove the slimy substance. "What’s the matter, Jace?" Martha cried out. "Why are you –?" "Success!" shouted Heather. "Sweet revenge!" added Dana. "What do you mean?" said Sylvia, as the two girls jumped up and down with glee. "What did you do to him?" "Nothing much," said Heather with a grin. "Just put some capsaicin cream in his glove when he wasn’t looking." "Why?" asked Martha, who seemed more curious than upset. "For nearly killing us with that ball he hit last week. That’s what for," answered Dana. "Yeah, we figured we’d teach him a lesson," said Heather. "But that was an accident, girls," said Martha. "What you did was deliberate." "He won’t die," said Heather, pointing at Jace, who continued to rub his hand on the grass. A small circle of girls assembled around him, faces glowing with smirks and hands restraining laughter. Even Lauren seemed to enjoy the spectacle.

Buy the book from:


February 12 - Introduction at Virtual Book Tour Café Blog
February 14 - Spotlight at Urania's Distractions
February 14 - Review at Indy Book Fairy
February 16 - Guest Blog at 
The Avid Reader
February 18 - Spotlight at 4Covert2Overt A Place In The Spotlight 
February 20 - Guest Blogging at The Writers Revolution
February 24 - Guest Blog + Review at The Opinions of a Bookaholic
February 24 - Spotlight at Jody's Book Reviews,Giveaways & Tours 
February 26 - Spotlight atMy Life Loves and Passion 
March 2 - Guest Blog at Infinite House of Books
March 2 - Spotlight at IndiewritersReview 
March 4 - Spotlight at deal sharing aunt 
March 6 - Review at Innerworkings of the Female Mind 
March 9 - Review at Tea and A Book

Sunday, December 21, 2014

Dreams of the Few (Book II, Legacy of Dreams) by Susan M. Obijiski Book Tour & Giveaway

Title: Dreams of the Few - Book II, Legacy of Dreams
Author Name: Susan M. Obijiski

Author Bio: Susan Obijiski lives in beautiful Sedona, Arizona with her husband. She is the author of , and Dreams of the Few and a contributing author to 'Sedona Awakenings'.
Dreams of the Many

Author Links - 

Book Genre: Fiction - Metaphysical
Publisher: Strategic Book Group
Release Date: 4/17/2014

Book Description: Dreams of the Few is the second in the three book Legacy of Dreams series, continuing the journey that began with Dreams of the Many. Once again, renowned New York stage actor Brody Murphy must put aside his life and career, and step into a dream world to rescue Casey Wheeler. After seven years of sobriety, and a new life with his wife and son, Brody is faced with the prospect of returning to the nightmare world he once escaped. But this time the stakes are even higher; without Brody's help, Casey is likely to die. This journey will be the most challenging of Brody's life. No one can help him find Casey and return the boy from the desolate landscape of the dream. While his friends and loved ones attempt to support him from afar, Brody grapples with sobriety, repressed memories, and a lifetime of fears and demons that threaten to sabotage Casey's rescue and the very fabric of Brody's sanity. Can Brody find Casey before it is too late? Can Casey and Brody emerge from the nightmare, whole and unbroken? Dreams of the Few is a story of friendship, love and devotion. It is a reminder that our purpose in life is to learn, and that we learn best from our trials and challenges. 


December 21 - Introduction at VBT Café Blog

December 23 - Spotlight at 4covert2overt

December 25 - Review at My Life Loves and Passion

December 29 - Guest Blog at WWBB

January 1 - Spotlight at Coffee, Books & Art

January 6 - Spotlight at Virtual Hobby Store & Coffee Haus

January 8 - Review at PRATR

January 10 - Spotlight at deal sharing aunt

January 13 - Review at SiMPLiREAD

January 15 - Guest Blog at Lori's Reading Corner