Archive for the ‘giveaway’ Category



“Top 10 interesting facts about my new book, BACULUM” 

By Christina Bauer

As part of the launch for my latest book, BACULUM, the lovely folks at 411 ON BOOKS, AUTHORS, AND PUBLISHING NEWS have asked me to share a Top 10 List. Love doing these! In this case, I’m thrilled to share my top 10 list of interesting facts about my new book, BACULUM.

10. I originally had the antagonists be evil clowns. My husband talked me off that ledge. I know, I totally owe him for this one.

9.  I sometimes write books out of order. BACULUM takes place in the past right after Myla finds out she is pregnant.

8. I don’t know why I write out of order. It actually bothers the hell out of me.

7. If I try to force myself to write in order, I get writer’s block.

6. Personally, I only read series in order.

5. Therefore, Reader Me thinks Writer Me is a bitch.

4. Also, Business Me wants to take Writer Me out and kick my own ass.

3. I love myths and had a blast having my hero, Lincoln, fight various Norse monsters in what ended up being called the Viking Games. Fun!

2. I brought back a reader favorite character for this book: Walker the ghoul. If you knew him, I think he might be your favorite, too.

1. I enjoyed having my heroine, Myla, encounter pregnancy symptoms. She’s already unhinged so this was a blast!

Baculum
Christina Bauer
(Angelbound Lincoln #4)
Published by: Monster House Books
Publication date: January 26th 2021
Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult

Watch Lincoln battle Norse monsters in the Viking Games!

As King of the Thrax, Lincoln leads the most powerful demon fighting force in the after-realms… yet he cherishes nothing more than his Angelbound love, Myla. Which is why the king loses his freaking mind when the sinister Ringmaster Kell targets his pregnant wife.

So. Not. Happening.

Ringmaster Kell runs the infamous Viking Games, a series of battles where participants take on the identity of a Norse monster and fight to the death. Sounds good to Lincoln. The king sets aside his crown and enters the arena with one goal only: destroy Ringmaster Kell.

Sometimes, a warrior just needs to ignite his baculum sword and kick a ton of evil ass. But is Lincoln protecting Myla or walking into a trap?

Perfect for readers who love Vikings, Norse mythology, hot princes and cool heroines.

ANGELBOUND LINCOLN
Stories from the perspective of Mister The Prince
1. Duty Bound
2. Lincoln
3. Trickster
4. Baculum
5. Angelfire
6. Rixa

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play

Author Bio:

Christina Bauer thinks that fantasy books are like bacon: they just make life better. All of which is why she writes romance novels that feature demons, dragons, wizards, witches, elves, elementals, and a bunch of random stuff that she brainstorms while riding the Boston T. Oh, and she includes lots of humor and kick-ass chicks, too. Christina lives in Newton, MA with her husband, son, and semi-insane golden retriever, Ruby. She loves to connect with her fans at BauersBooks.com.

Stalk Christina On Social Media – She Loves It!

Blog / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / LinkedIn / Website

GIVEAWAY!

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Bookish Adventures and Page-Bound Journeys: The Joys of Reading and Writing My Way to New People and Places

Books take me places. That’s one reason I love them. I like to travel, and a used paperback is a heck of a lot cheaper than a plane ticket. Plus books allow me access to corners of the world I couldn’t otherwise visit (at least not easily): just this year, I’ve gotten to ride on a Gulf Coast shrimp boat, sit down in a Paris apartment to talk Surrealist art with an expert, and train with sumo stars in Japan. All during lockdown! So when I write, I strive to create a story that will give my own readers the same opportunity to go someplace new . . . or to go somewhere familiar in a new way. 

In The Venturi Effect, I’ve worked to drop readers onto the deck of a sailboat in the Gulf of Mexico, into a chair at counsel table in a federal courtroom, and onto a warm street on St. Kitts in the West Indies. In the book’s sequel, The Cult of Mammon, readers will visit the Big Island of Hawaii, an arid hideaway outside San Diego, and the call centers of a major fraud network . . . and they’ll get to revisit American Civil War history. My short-story collection, Love and Other Misunderstandings, wanders from Vegas to Heaven to Harbor Springs, Michigan—in a mere 184 pages. I write about places I’ve been, and places I imagine, including details that (I hope) will give people an authentic sense of those destinations on the page, and perhaps a means to see them in a new light.

Along with scratching bookishly itchy feet, good stories also give me new and interesting traveling companions—people I might not otherwise meet, people with interesting secrets. Whether I’m reading characters created by others or watching what my own prose-based people are doing, it’s fun to peek into lives full of tangled-up pasts and ill-conceived choices. In The Venturi Effect, I’ve gotten to know Devlin Winters, a burned-out former criminal-defense attorney who left a lucrative partnership at a large Chicago law firm and headed south to Texas to escape an imploding career. Ultimately, Devlin has to conquer her demons, return to the law, and face off against a prosecutor named Xavier Charles, whose sincere, but misguided, efforts to achieve justice unlock a Pandora’s box of secrets and drama—for Devlin and for himself.

For those who like a good legal yarn, for those who’ve ever wanted to sail to a Caribbean island, for those who want to find a traveling companion who loves large cats and Greek classics, The Venturi Effect may provide an answer to satisfy a little literary wanderlust this holiday season. 

The Venturi Effect

by Sage Webb

on Tour November 1 – December 31, 2020

The Venturi Effect by Sage Webb

Synopsis:

After fleeing the crush of a partnership at a large Chicago criminal-defense firm and the humiliation of a professional breakdown, Devlin Winters just wants to be left alone with a couple sundowners on the deck of her dilapidated mahogany trawler on Galveston Bay. But when an old flame shows up on the boardwalk with a mysterious little boy in tow and an indictment on his heels, fate has other plans, and Devlin finds herself thrust onto a sailboat bound for St. Kitts and staring down her demons in the courtroom, as she squares off against an obsessed prosecutor with a secret of his own.

Book Details:

Genre: Legal Thriller
Published by: Stoneman House Press, LLC
Publication Date: November 15th 2020
Number of Pages: 329
ISBN: 9781733737944 (Ebook: 9781733737951)
Links: Amazon | Goodreads

Author Bio:

Sage Webb

Sage Webb practiced criminal defense for over a decade before turning to fiction. She is the author of two novels and the recipient of numerous literary awards in the U.S. and U.K., including second place in the Hackney Literary Awards. Her short stories have appeared in Texas anthologies and literary reviews. In 2020, Michigan’s Mackinac State Historic Parks named her an artist in residence. She belongs to International Thriller Writers and PEN America, and lives with her husband, a ship’s cat, and a boat dog on a sailboat in Galveston Bay.

You can find Sage at:
www.sagewebb.comGoodreadsTwitter, & Facebook!

Read an excerpt:

Chapter 1
Carny

Red metal boxes lined the wood-railed tourist boardwalk, giving children access to fish food if the kids could finagle quarters from parents wilted and forlorn in the triple-digit Gulf Coast heat. With the food, kids could create great frenzies of red drum, snook, spotted sea trout, or whatever fish species gathered at the boardwalk’s pilings in agitated silver vortices. Devlin Winters lifted her ballcap and wiped a sleeve across her brow. She favored long-sleeved t-shirts for just this reason—their mopping properties . . . and to protect her from the Galveston Bay sun in its unrelenting effort to grill her and the other boardwalk barkers. In the two years she’d been on the boardwalk, she’d never fed the fish.

A kid stopped beside one of the boxes.

“Can I have a quarter, mommy?” the boy asked.

He looked about eight or nine, though Devlin had little interest in guessing accurately the ages of the pint-sized patrons fueling her income stream.

“I’m not sure I have one,” the mom replied.

She appeared a bit younger than Devlin, maybe late twenties.

Once upon a time, Devlin would have looked at a mother like that and made a snide remark about crib lizards and dead ends, but nine bucks an hour in the sun makes it awfully hard for a carny to judge others. Lacking a more interesting subject, Devlin watched the woman paw through a backpack-sized purse. The chick produced a quarter and handed it to the kid, who dropped it into the box’s payment slot and ground the dial, catching in his miniature palm a limited portion of the fish food that spilled out of the machine when he lifted the metal flap. The majority of the pellets rained down onto the wooden boardwalk planks, bounced, and disappeared through the cracks between the planks.

Devlin fancied she could hear the tiny fish-food BBs hitting brown water: plink, plink, plink. Once upon another time, when she was still at Sondheim Baker, but toward the end, she would go outside in the middle of the day. Instead of sitting at her desk, drafting appellate briefs for the Seventh Circuit, she would ride the elevator down to La Salle, down seven hundred feet of glass and stainless steel and terribly expensive architecture. She would drop down those elevator cables at random times, at times rich, successful attorneys should have been at their desks. And she would turn left out of that great glass building the color of the sky and walk over to the river, that nothing-like-the-Styx river that mankind had turned back on itself, contrary to nature.

She would stand and look down into the water, which was sometimes emerald, sometimes the color of jeans before they are ever washed. Once or twice, she had reached into her purse (expensive purses, Magnificent Mile purses from Burberry and Gucci and Hermès) and she had dug around until she’d found a penny. She’d dropped the penny into the river and, even now, on the sauna-hot boardwalk with the whistle of the kid-sized train behind her and the pulses of unimpressive pop music overhead, she was sure she could hear those pennies hit the Chicago River, hit and sink down, down, and farther down.

Plink. Plink. Pli—

“You want to try this one?”

The fish-feeding entertainment had run its course and the mother stood in front of the water-gun game Devlin guarded. She gestured toward Devlin and the row of stools in front of their narrow-barreled water guns.

“Is it hard?” The kid looked up at his mom, and the mom turned to Devlin.

“He can do it, right?” she asked. “I mean, he can figure it out, right?”

“Sure, it’s easy.” Devlin lifted her cap for another mop across her hairline, and then wiped perspiration away from her eyes under her sunglasses. “It’s fun, little dude,” she said to the kid in his obviously secondhand clothes.

She wanted to care, wanted to be “affable” or whatever it is a carny should be toward summer’s ice-cream-eating cash-crop flux of kids. But wanting alone, without effort, is never enough.

The mom held out a five-dollar bill.

“You both wanna do it? I gotta have more than one person to run it for a prize.” Devlin rubbed the top of her right flip flop and foot against her left calf.

“Oh,” the woman said, “I wasn’t planning to play. I’m no good at these things.”

“Um,” Devlin stepped out of the shade of the game’s nook and cast her eyes up and down the boardwalk, “we’ll find some more kids.” She took the woman’s money without looking away from the walkway and the beggarly seabirds.

A young couple, likely playing hooky from jobs in Houston, held the hands of a girl sporting jet-black pigtails and lopsided glasses.

“Step right up, princess. You wanna win a unicorn, right?” Devlin reached back into her game nook and snatched a pink toy from the wall of unicorns, butterflies, bees, and unlicensed lookalikes of characters from movies Devlin had never heard of. She dangled the thing in the girl’s direction.

“Would you like to play, habibti?” The mom jiggled the girl’s arm.

“Tell ya what.” Devlin turned to the mom. “The whole family can play for five bucks. We’re just trying to get some games going, give away some prizes to these cuties.” She turned back to the first mother. “And don’t worry, I’ll give him three games for the fiver.”

“Hear that, Vince? You’ll get to play a few times. Is that cool?”

Vince picked at his crotch. Devlin looked away.

“Yes, we’ll all play,” the second mother said. The dad pulled a twenty out of a pocket and Devlin started to make change while Vince’s mom hefted Vince onto a stool.

“Just a five back,” the father said. “We’ll play a few times.”

“Sure thing,” Devlin replied. Then she raised her voice to run through the rules of the game, to explain how the water guns spraying and hitting the targets would raise plastic boats in a boat race to buzzers at the top of the game contraption. She offered some tired words of encouragement, got nods from everyone, and counted down. “Three, two, one.”

She pushed the button and the game loosed a bell sound across the boardwalk.

A guy in waiter’s livery hurried past, hustling toward one of the boardwalk’s various restaurants, with their patios overlooking the channel and Galveston Bay. He’d be serving people margaritas and gimlets in just a few more steps and minutes. Devlin wanted a gimlet.

She drew a deep breath, turned back to her charges. “Close race here, friends.”

An ’80s-vintage Hunter sailboat slid past in the channel, leaving Galveston Bay and making its way back to one of the marinas up the waterway on Clear Lake.

When Devlin turned back to her marksmen, the girl’s mother’s boat had almost reached the buzzer.

“Looks like we’ve got a leader here. Come on, madam. You’re almost there.”

Devlin checked her watch. She’d be off in less than an hour. She’d be back on her own boat fifteen minutes after that, with an unopened bottle of Bombay Sapphire and a net full of limes rocking above the galley sink.

The buzzer blared.

“Looks like we have a winner. Congratulations, madam.” Devlin clapped three times. “Now would you like a unicorn, a butterfly, or,” Devlin pulled a four-inch-tall creature from the wall, not knowing how to describe it, “this little guy?” She held it out for the woman’s inspection.

Habibti, you pick.” The mom patted her daughter’s back. The kid didn’t say anything, just pointed at the butterfly.

“Butterfly it is, beautiful.” Devlin unclipped the toy from the wall of plush junk and handed it to the girl. “Well, we’ve got some competition for this next one, folks, now that you’re all warmed up. Take a breather. We’ll start the next game when you’re ready.”

“Can I try?” A boy pulled at a broad-shouldered man’s hand, leading the guy toward the row of stools. It was hard to tell parentage with these kids and their mixed-up step- and half- and melded-in-other-ways families, and with this one, the kid’s dark curls and earnest eyes contrasted with the dude’s Nordic features and reminded Devlin of a roommate she’d had in undergrad, a girl from Haiti who’d taught Devlin about pikliz. Devlin hadn’t thought about Haitian food in ages. She decided she would google it later and see what she could find in Houston. A drive to discover somewhere new to eat would do her good.

Any chance at plantains and pikliz would have to wait, though. The kid and the dude now stood in front of Devlin. Ultra-dark sunglasses hid the guy’s eyes, and a ballcap with a local yacht brokerage’s logo embroidered on it cast a shadow over his face. Devlin cocked her head. She narrowed her eyes and hoped her own sunglasses were doing as good a job of being barriers. He reminded her of—

“Still time to add another player?” The dude pulled out a wallet and handed Devlin a ten.

“Sure,” she said. “Is this for both of you? You should give it a try, too. This’ll get you both in on the next two games.”

She didn’t wait for confirmation. She shoved the money in the box beside her control board of buzzer buttons and waved the guy and his kid toward stools on the far side of the now-veteran players already seated.

“Uh, sure,” the guy said, putting a hand on the kid’s back and guiding him to a seat.

Running through the rules again, Devlin envisioned those gimlets awaiting her. With Bombay Sapphire dancing before her, she counted down and then pushed the button to blast the bell and launch the game. The buzzer over the newcomer father’s boat’s track rang moments later. What kind of scummy guy just trounces a kid like that? Devlin rolled her eyes behind the obscuring lenses.

“Looks like our new guy is the winner, ladies and gentlemen. Now, would you like a unicorn, a butterfly, or this little dude?” Devlin again proffered the hard-to-describe creature, walking it over for the fellow to examine.

“What is it?” the guy asked.

Devlin shrugged. “What do you get when you cross an elephant and a rhino?”

The guy’s sunglasses gave away nothing. But something she couldn’t articulate made her feel like he was studying her.

“An ’el-if-I-know,” she said.

Still nothing . . . except that feeling of scrutiny.

“Dude, I’ve got no idea,” she replied to her reflection in the lenses.

“Grant, which one do you want?” The guy turned away and handed the unnamed creature to the kid, and then gestured at the identifiable unicorns and butterflies hanging on the wall over Devlin’s control station.

“Those are for girls,” Grant said, waving at the recognizable plushes on the wall.

“So is this one okay?” The guy patted the thing in the kid’s hand.

Grant wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“All right, folks. You’ve all got another game coming here. Competition is fierce. Who’s gonna take this last one?” Devlin strode back to her place at the control board.

“Deep inhale, everyone. Relax. All right, here we go. Three, two, one.” She pushed the starting button.

Up shot the new guy’s boat again. What a bastard. Poor Grant. This patriarchal showmanship would be worth about five or ten grand at the therapist’s in twenty-five years.

Out in the channel, two jetskis purred past, headed toward the bay. The day’s heat had cracked and the sky hinted at evening. Behind her, the victory whistle sounded. She turned. The dude with the sunglasses sat patting Grant’s shoulder, with Grant’s boat at the top of its track. So the guy wasn’t a complete fool.

“A new winner here, ladies and gentlemen.” She walked to Grant’s stool. “Now, little man, because you’ve won two prizes today, you can trade that one you’ve got and this one you’re going to get for one bigger one. You can pick from these if you want.”

She pointed at a row with only-slightly-bigger caterpillars, ambiguous characters, and a dog in a purple vest.

“That one,” Grant said, pointing at the dog.

“That one it is, good sir.” Devlin retrieved the dog, taking back the first creature and returning it to the wall in the process.

As she retraced her steps to Grant, the dog in her hand, fuzzy pictures coalesced in a fog and mist of bygone memories.

Devlin handed the dog to Grant. “There you go.”

She looked at the guy again, focusing on him for longer than she should have, feeling him perhaps doing the same to her. Yes, she had it right: it was him. She pushed a flyaway strand of bleached hair back into place beneath her cap and turned away.

“Thanks for playing this afternoon, folks,” she called. “Enjoy your evening on the boardwalk.”

The parents gathered their kids, and Devlin walked back toward her control board. Waiting for Grant and him to head off down the row of games and rides, she fussed with the cashbox and then lifted her water bottle to her lips. She could feel him and the kid lingering, feel them failing to move along, failing to leave her to forget what once was and to focus on thoughts of gimlets at sunset on the deck of a rotten old trawler.

“Um.” His voice sounded low and halting behind her. A vacuum, all heat and silence, followed and then a masculine inhale . . . and then the awkward pause.

He cleared his throat.

“Sorry to interrupt, but are you from Chicago?”

***

Excerpt from The Venturi Effect by Sage Webb. Copyright 2020 by Sage Webb. Reproduced with permission from Sage Webb. All rights reserved.

Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and giveaways!


1.11/02 Guest post @ The Book Divas Reads
2.11/03 Review @ Wall-to-wall Books
3.11/04 Interview @ BooksChatter
4.11/06 Review @ Book Reviews From an Avid Reader
5.11/09 Interview @ Quiet Fury Books
6.11/10 Review @ sunny island breezes
7.11/11 Review @ Books and Zebras @ jypsylynn
8.11/12 Guest post @ Novels Alive
9.11/15 Showcase @ Eclectic Moods
10.11/16 Showcase @ Archaeolibrarian – I Dig Good Books!
11.11/17 Interview @ A Blue Million Books
12.11/18 Review/showcase @ Avonna Loves Genres
13.11/19 Showcase @ The Pulp and Mystery Shelf
14.11/27/ Review @ The Review Crew
15.11/28 Showcase @ bookalicious traveladdict
16.11/30 Review @ Jersey Girl Book Reviews
17.12/01 Showcase @ nanasbookreviews
18.12/02 Interview @ Blogtalk Radio
19.12/02 Review @ Just Reviews
20.12/03 Interview @ Reading A Page Turner
21.12/04 Review/showcase @ Totally Addicted to Reading
22.12/10 Review @ Celticladys Reviews
23.12/14 Review @ Nesies Place
24.12/15 Review @ One More Book To Read
25.12/16 Guest post @ 411 ON BOOKS, AUTHORS, AND PUBLISHING NEWS
26.12/17 Interview/showcase @ CMash Reads
27.12/27 Showcase @ EienCafe
28.12/30 Review @ A Room Without Books is Empty

Giveaway!

This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Sage Webb. There will be Fourteen (14) winners for this tour. Seven (7) winners will each receive a $15 Amazon.com Gift Card and Seven (7) winners will each receive a physical copy of The Venturi Effect by Sage Webb (US addresses only). The giveaway begins on November 1, 2020 and runs through January 2, 2021. Void where prohibited.
CLICK HERE TO ENTER

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tours

Michelle Falkoff

HOW TO PACK FOR THE END OF THE WORLD

As both a writer and someone who often teaches fiction-writing classes, I’m often asked about what’s most important in the quest to become a published author. I know lots of people have asked and answered similar questions, and I have no doubt my answers will be similar if not identical to others, but I still think it’s important to reiterate a few key things.

  1. You have to read. More than that, you have to love reading. I remember teaching a class on writing mystery novels to a group of people working on their first books. On the first day we went around and talked about the last book we read that we loved, a question I think is far more important than the “favorite book question” since it often gets at what keeps us reading, not what got us started. Everyone in the room was surprised when one of the participants proudly announced that he doesn’t read fiction. “Why do you want to write it, then?” someone asked. “Because I’ve got a bestselling idea for a novel, and I think it’s going to make me rich,” he replied. As any writer can tell you, a) it’s almost impossible to know whether you’ve got a bestselling idea, and b) it’s even less likely that the idea will make you rich, no matter how fabulous it is.
  1. You have to write. You do not have to love writing, especially not the way you love reading, but you have to actually do it. It’s not enough to want to write or to dream of writing or to have always wanted to write or to plan to write or to contemplate writing over winter break or to be ready to start writing on Monday or when the kids are asleep or when you get up early one day. All these things might be components of getting you to write, but the writing part is what matters. It has to actually happen. That can be incredibly difficult, whether logistically or emotionally, but there’s no getting around this part.
  1. You have to write well. You don’t have to be the greatest writer who ever wrote a sentence, but you also have to be able to communicate with an audience. Both 1 and 2 help with this—reading gives you a sense of what good writing looks like, and writing helps you practice making your writing better. You may not find it surprising that the individual who had a bestselling idea in my mystery novel class was an abysmal writer, and it wasn’t because of a lack of capability—that person had no idea what good writing looked like and had never attempted to write before. It doesn’t come out of nowhere; it takes work.

These are the three most important things at the beginning. All the other things people want to know about—agents, publishers, marketing, etc.—don’t matter until much, much later, and skipping steps is a poor recipe for success. Focusing on reading and writing well matters more than anything else, and let’s be real—they’re the fun part, so why not enjoy it?

Join us for this tour from Nov 3 to Nov 23, 2020!

Book Details:

Book Title:  How to Pack for the End of the World by Michelle Falkoff
Category:  YA Fiction (Ages 13-17),  320 pages
Genre: Literary / Mystery
Publisher:  HarperCollins (HarperTeen)
Release date:   Nov 20, 2020
Format available for review:  Print, NetGalley Download (mobi for kindle, epub, pdf)
Will send print books out:  USA and Canada
Tour dates: Nov 3 to Nov 23, 2020
Content Rating:  PG-13.
Language is clean, no sex on the page but reference to it, dark subject
matter–wasn’t sure the best category based on descriptions.

Book Description:

If you knew the world was going to end tomorrow, what would you do? This is the question that haunts Amina as she watches new and horrible stories of discord and crisis flash across the news every day. But when she starts at prestigious Gardner Academy, Amina finds a group of like-minded peers to join forces with—fast friends who dedicate their year to learning survival skills from each other, before it’s too late. Still, as their prepper knowledge multiplies, so do their regular high school problems, from relationship drama to family issues to friend blow-ups. Juggling the two parts of their lives forces Amina to ask another vital question: Is it worth living in the hypothetical future if it’s at the expense of your actual present?

Pre-Order the Book:
Amazon ~ Audible
Bookshop.orgIndieBound

 

Meet the Author:

Michelle Falkoff is the author of Playlist for the Dead, Pushing Perfect, Questions I Want to Ask You, and How to Pack for the End of the World. She is a graduate of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop and currently serves as director of communication and legal reasoning at Northwestern Pritzker School of Law.

Connect with the author:   website  twitter  ~  instagram ~ goodreads

Tour Schedule:

Nov 3 – Deborah-Zenha Adams – book spotlight / guest post / giveaway
Nov 3 – Splashes of Joy – audiobook review / guest post / giveaway
Nov 3 – Stephanie Jane – book spotlight / giveaway
Nov 4 – Literary Flits – book spotlight / giveaway
Nov 5 – Gina Rae Mitchell – book review / author interview / giveaway
Nov 5 – Book Corner News and Reviews – book review / giveaway
Nov 6 – Rockin’ Book Reviews – book review / guest post / giveaway
Nov 9 –Jazzy Book Reviews – book spotlight / guest post / giveaway
Nov 10 – fundinmental – book spotlight / giveaway
Nov 10 – Corinne Rodrigues – book spotlight / giveaway
Nov 11 – Pick a Good Book – book review / author interview
Nov 12 – Books, Tea, Healthy Me – book review / author interview / giveaway
Nov 12 – Instagram:. All Booked Up Reviews – book review
Nov 13 – Viviana MacKade – book spotlight / guest post
Nov 16 – She Just Loves Books – book review / giveaway
Nov 17 –Westveil Publishing  – book review / giveaway
Nov 18 – JulzReads – book review
Nov 18 – 411 ON BOOKS, AUTHORS, AND PUBLISHING NEWS – book spotlight / guest post / giveaway
Nov 19 –100 Pages A Day – book review / giveaway
Nov 20 –Books and Zebras @jypsylynn – book review
Nov 20 – Lamon Reviews – book spotlight / guest post / giveaway
Nov 23 – Writer with Wanderlust – book review / guest post / giveaway
Nov 23 – My Fictional Oasis – book review / giveaway
Nov 23 – Locks, Hooks and Books – book review / giveaway

Enter the Giveaway:

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