Philosophy is defined as a theory underlying or regarding a sphere of activity or thought. Well, my theory is if I can add at least 10 new books to my Wishlist and move at least 5 older Wishlist selections to my TBR list every month, then life is a ice cream sundae. And if I can find those 10 books from at least 5 new blogs each month then that's the cherry on top.


Well, I've made it almost 5 years now, so for better or worse, I continue on. I tend to blog in spurts as the urge to be creative erupts. As I don't have an artistic bone in my body, you will see very few changes in the layouts. Hey, I'm a reader not an artist like so many of the awesome bloggers I follow. I know you don't always have the time but if you stopped and looked, take a half a minute and say your piece. Recommend a book that you have enjoyed or hated for that matter. Thank you to all who visit.
Oh, and I moved my Google Friend Connect info and share this buttons to the top, as without our friends, who are we?

Friday, February 26, 2016

Cover Reveal + Giveaway of NOBODY'S LADY by Amy McNulty

Today Amy McNulty and Month9Books are

revealing the cover and first chapter for NOBODY’S LADY! Book 2 in the Never
Veil Series which releases April 12, 2016! Check out the gorgeous cover and
enter to be one of the first readers to receive an eGalley!!

On to the reveal!

Author: Amy McNulty
Pub. Date: April 12, 2016
Publisher: Month9Books
Format: Paperback

& eBook

Find it: 

For the first time in a thousand years,
the men in Noll’s village possess the freedom to love whom they will. In order
to give each man the chance to fully explore his feelings, the lord of the
village decrees all marriages null and void until both spouses declare their
love for one another and their desire to wed again. What many women think will
be a simple matter becomes a source of village-wide tension as most men decide
to leave their families and responsibilities behind.

Rejected by the lord and ashamed of her
part in the village’s history, Noll withdraws from her family and lives life as
an independent woodcarver. This changes when her sister accuses her of hiding
her former husband Jurij from her—and when Jurij eventually does ask to move
in. Determined not to make the same mistakes, Noll decides to support her male
friends through their new emotional experiences, but she’s soon caught up in a
darker plot than she ever dared imagine possible from the men she thought she
knew so well. And the lord for whom she still has feelings may be hiding the
most frightening truth of them all.


Chapter One

When I thought I understood real friendship, I was a long-lost queen. When I discovered there was so much more to my life than love and hate, that those around me were just pawns in a game whose rules I’d unwittingly put in place, I discovered I was a long-forgotten goddess. But goddess or not, powerless or powerful, my feet were taking me someplace I wasn’t sure I wanted to go. What did I hope to find? Did I truly believe I could hear him call me—that he’d want to call me? Yes, I did. I wanted to see him again. I wanted to hope, even if I wasn’t sure I was allowed. If I deserved to. I headed down the familiar dirt path beneath the lattice of trees overhead, pausing beside the bush with a partially snapped stem that jutted outward like a broken limb. The one that pointed to the secret cavern.

Only, it’s not much of a secret anymore, is it?

My feet picked themselves up. Glowing pools would never again tempt me.

I reached the black, towering fortress that had for so long shaken and screamed at the power of my glance.

For the first time in this lifetime, I stared up at it, and nothing moved. My legs, unused to such steady footing while in the sight of the lord’s castle, twitched in anticipation of a fall that never came.

There was no need. My feet dragged me forward.

At the grand wooden door, I raised a fist to knock.

But I stopped. I felt like if I touched it, the entire castle might crumble. It had done so once before. Not at my touch exactly. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was responsible for whatever destruction I’d find in this place. But that was presumptuous of me. He was strong-willed, and he wouldn’t crumble at the prospect of freedom. If anything, he’d be triumphant over it.

You can’t stop now. I pulled my sleeves over my wrists and propped both elbows against the door, pushing until it gave way.

The darkness inside the foyer tried to deceive me into thinking night had fallen. The stream of light that trickled from the familiar crack in the garden door called the darkness a liar.

I gripped the small iron handles, the material of my sleeves guarding the cold metal from my touch, and pulled.

My touch had come to the garden before me.

The rose bushes that surrounded the enclosed circular area were torn, ripped, trodden, and plucked. The blooms lay withered, scattered and turned to dust, their once-white petals a sickly shade of yellowish brown, smooth blooms turned coarse and wrinkled.

The fountain at the center no longer trickled with water. Its shallow pool was stagnant, piles of brown festering in mildewing green liquid. Dotted amongst the brown was pallid stone rubble. The tears of the weeping elf child statue, which belonged at the top of the fountain, had ceased at last. But the gash across its face told me the child’s tears had not been staunched by joy. I wondered if Ailill had had it carved to represent the pain I’d inflicted on him as a child. And I wondered if now he could no longer bear to remind himself of what I’d done.

I hadn’t done this. But I felt as if I had. If Ailill had gone on a rampage after he came back to the castle, it was because of what I’d done to him. Everything I touched turned sour. I yanked and pulled, trying to draw my hands further into my sleeves, but there wasn’t enough material to cover them entirely.

“Well, what a surprise.”
I gazed into the shadow beside the doorway. How could I have not seen? The stone table was occupied. The place where I’d sat alone for hours, days, and months was littered with crumpled and decaying leaves, branches, and petals, obscuring the scars left by a dagger or knife striking time and time again across its surface. The matching bench that once nestled on the opposite side was toppled over, leaving only dark imprints in the dirt.

“A pity you could not make yourself at home here when you were welcome.”

My breath caught in my throat.

The man at the table was clad entirely in black, as I knew he would be. The full-length jacket had been swapped for a jerkin, but I could see the embossing of roses hadn’t been discarded in the exchange. He wore dark leather gloves, the fingers of which were crossed like the wings of a bird in flight. His pale elbows rested on the table amongst the leaves and branches and thorns. He wore the hat I was used to seeing him wear, a dark, pointed top resting on a wide brim. Its black metal band caught a ray of the sunlight almost imperceptibly. But I noticed. I always did.

His face was entirely uncovered. Those large and dark eyes, locked on me, demanded my attention. They were the same eyes of the boy I’d left alone to face my curse—not so long ago from my point of view. He was more frightened then, but there was no mistaking the hurt in those eyes both then and now.

“You are not welcome here, Olivière.”

His words sliced daggers through my stomach.

“I … I thought I heard you call me.”

He cocked his head to the side, his brown eyes moving askance. “You heard me call you?”

“Yes … ” I realized how foolish it sounded. I was a fool to come. Why had I let myself fall for that sound again, for my name whispered on the wind? Why was I so certain it was he who’d said my name?

He smiled, not kindly. “And where, pray tell, have you been lurking? Under a rose bush? Behind the garden door? Or do those rounded female ears possess a far greater sense of hearing than my jagged male ones?”

I brushed the tips of my ears self-consciously. Elric had been so fascinated by them, by what he saw as a mutilation. This lord—Ailill—wasn’t like that. He’d touched them once, as a child. He’d tried to heal them, thinking they were meant to be pointed.

The boy with a heart was the man sitting there before me. Even after all we’d been through, he’d still done me a kindness by healing my mother. “No, I just thought—”

“No, you did not think, or you would not have come.”

I clenched my jaw. My tongue was threatening to spew the vile anger that had gotten us into this mess to begin with.

He sighed and crossed his arms across his chest. “I gave explicit instructions that I not be disturbed.” He leaned back against the wall behind him, his chin jutting outward slightly.

I wiped my sweaty fingertips on my skirt. I wouldn’t let the rest of my hands out from the insides of my sleeves. The sweat had already soaked through them. “I needed to thank you.”

He scoffed. “Thank me for what? For your prolonged captivity, or for not murdering both your mother and your lover when I had the chance?”

So you admit you took Jurij to punish me? You admit they were both in danger in your “care”? Quickly, I had to clench my jaw to keep down the words that threatened to spill over. He’s not who I thought he was. He wouldn’t have harmed them.

I loosened the muscles in my jaw one hair’s breadth at a time.

“For healing me when you were a child. For accepting me into your castle instead of putting me to death for trespassing in it. For … For forgiving me for cursing you, even though you were innocent.” My voice was quiet, but I was determined to make it grow louder. “For saving my mother’s life.”

He waved one hand lazily in the air. “Unfinished projects irk me.”

“But you didn’t have to.”

A shrug. “The magic was nearly entirely spent on the churl anyway.”

“I beg your pardon?”

He leaned forward and placed both palms across the rotted forest remnants on the table. “My apologies,” he said, his lips curled into a sneer. “I simply meant that I wasted years and years and let the magic wither from my body to save a person of no consequence. You may thank me for that if you like. I would rather not be reminded of it.”

How odd it was to see the face I’d imagined come to life. The mocking, the condescending—it was all there. I just hadn’t known the canvas before.

And what a strange and beautiful canvas it was. That creamy peach skin, the brownish tint of his shoulder-length tresses. He was so much paler than any person I had ever seen. Save for the specters.

Despite the paleness, part of me felt I wasn’t wrong to have mistaken one brother for another. Elric had been dark-skinned, but they seemed almost like reflections of the same person; they shared the same brows, the same lips, and even eyes of a similar shape if not color. Perhaps the face before me was a bit gaunter, the nose a bit longer. It was easier to focus on the differences. Thinking of the similarities made me want to punch the face in front of me all the more—and that would undermine everything I had set out to do when I made my way to him. I wanted to see if you were really restored to life. Say it. I wanted to know if you really forgave me. Say it. I wanted to know why I … Why I feel this way about you, why I keep thinking about you, when I used to be unable to stand the sight of you. Say it, Noll! I dug my nails into my palm and shook the thoughts from my head. He’d called my mother a “churl.” I couldn’t just tell him everything I was thinking. “Have you no sense of empathy?”

“What a coincidence that you should mention that. I am sending Ailill to the village with an edict. He can escort

you there.”

“Ailill?” But aren’t you him? Could I have been mistaken? Oh, goddess, help me, why do I do this to myself? Why do I think I know everything?

He waved his hand, and one of the specters appeared beside me from the foyer.

The specters. There were about a hundred of them in the castle. Pale as snow in skin and hair with red, burning eyes. Mute servants who seemed to anticipate the lord’s every command. Only now I knew who they really were.

Oh. “You call him by your own name?” I asked.

He raised an eyebrow. “I call them all by my name. They are me, remember?”

His icy stare sent another invisible dagger through my stomach. “Yes, but—”

“A shame you never cared to ask my name when you were my guest,” he said. “I have a feeling things might have turned out much differently—for all of us.”

“You knew what would happen! Why didn’t you warn me?” I had to squeeze my fists and teeth together to stop myself from screaming. This wasn’t going at all like I had hoped. But what had I hoped? What could I have possibly expected? I thought I’d be forgiven. I thought that Ailill and I might start over, that we could be friends, perhaps even … What a fool I’ve been.

Ailill turned slightly, his attention suddenly absorbed in a single white petal that remained on a half-trodden bush beside him. “I was not entirely in control of my emotions,” he said, “as you may well know.”

“I tried to give you a way out!” My jaw wouldn’t stay shut.

Ailill laughed and reached over to pluck the petal from its thorns. “Remind me exactly when that was? Perhaps between condemning me to an eternal life of solitude and wretchedness and providing yourself with a way to feel less guilty about the whole affair? And then you just popped right back to the present, I suppose, skipping over those endless years in a matter of moments.” He crushed the petal in his hand.

“A way to let myself feel less guilty?” He wasn’t entirely wrong. But it wasn’t as if he had done nothing wrong.

Ailill bolted upright, slamming the fist that gripped the petal against the twigs and grass on the table. “Your last words to me were entirely for your own benefit, as well you know!”

If, after your own Returning, you can find it in your heart to forgive me, the last of the men whose blood runs with his own power will free all men bound by my curse.

“How is wishing to break the curse on the village for my benefit?”

“Perhaps because the curse was your doing? Perhaps because you only wanted the curse broken to free your lover from it in the first place?”

“Stop calling Jurij my ‘lover.’ He’s not—”

“And you did free him with those words. You knew I would forgive you.”

“How could I have known? I didn’t think it possible you’d forgive me, not after all we’ve been through.”

“You knew because you knew I wanted to be free myself. That I would do anything—even forgive you for half a moment—to earn that freedom.” His voice grew quieter. “You never wanted anything from me, not really. I was just a pawn in your game, a way to free the other men in your village, a way to punish the men from mine.”

I fought back what I couldn’t believe was threatening to spring to my eyes. No tears, not in front of him.

“The men of the old village deserved everything they got,” I spat at last, knowing full well that wasn’t the whole story.

Ailill scoffed and put both hands on his hips, his arms akimbo. Oh, how I tired of that pose. The crushed petal remained on the table. Its bright white added a bit of life to the decay.

“There were plenty of young boys not yet corrupted,” he said. “And some that might have never been.” He took a deep breath. “But, of course, you are not entirely to blame. I blame myself every day for ever taking a childish interest in you. That should not have counted as love.”

I swallowed. Of course. Before the curse of the village had broken, a woman had absolute power over the one man who loved or yearned for her. When I visited the past through the pool in the secret cavern, I discovered a horde of lusty men who knew nothing of love but were overcome with desire. Since so many had lusted for any female who walked before them, and I had carried the power from my own version of the village with me, it had been child’s play to control the men. But why had that power extended to Ailill? He had only been a boy then, broken, near silent—and kindhearted. He couldn’t have regarded me with more than a simple crush on an older sisterly figure, but it had been enough.

“But you did forgive me.” Why couldn’t I stop the words from flowing?

Ailill shook his head and let a weary smile spread across his features. “Forgive you? I could never forgive you. No more than I could forgive myself for daring to think, if just for a moment, that I … ” He stopped.

I shook my head. “The curse wouldn’t have been broken. The men in the village wouldn’t now be walking around without masks. Nor you without your veil. If you hadn’t forgiven me.”

Ailill tilted his head slightly. His dark eyes searched mine, perhaps for some answer he thought could be found there. “I would still need the veil even now?” he asked, his voice quiet. “Are you certain?”

Removing the veil before the curse was broken would have required the Returning, a ritual in which I freely and earnestly bestowed my heart and affection to him. It would have never happened, not with the man I knew at the time to be mine. So yes, he would still need the veil to survive the gaze of women. I was sure of it. He’d been arrogant, erratic, and even cruel. Perhaps not so much as Elric, Ailill’s even more volatile older brother, the one who wound up with a mob of angry, murderous women in his castle and a gouge through his heart. But even so.

It was my turn to cross my arms and sneer. “I said you could break the curse after your own Returning, and I specified that you didn’t need my affection to have a Returning. All you needed to do was crawl out of whatever abyss I’d sent you to.” I shifted uncomfortably in place. “And I suppose I should be grateful—for my mother’s sake—that you did.”

Ailill waved a hand at the specter beside me and brushed aside a pile of clippings on the table to reveal a hand-written letter. It was yellowed and a tad soggy. “Yes, well, the endless droning that made up your curse gets a bit foggy in my mind—assuming it even made sense in your mind to begin with. I am afraid I lack the ability to retain exact memories of an event that took place a hundred lifetimes ago when I was but a scarred child terrified of the monster before him.” He looked up to face me as the specter retrieved the letter from his extended hand. “But I suppose it was not all that long ago for the monster, was it?” He turned again to the table, shuffling brush about aimlessly. “Take her with you to the market,” he said.

The specter made to grab my arm as he passed. I slipped out of his reach only to back into another specter who had appeared quick as lightning from the foyer. He grabbed one arm, and the first specter seized the other.

“Let go of me!” I shouted as they began to drag me away.

The specters didn’t pause, as they once would have.

“Stop!” called Ailill from behind me. The specters did as they were told.

Ailill spoke. “I forgot to inform you that my retainers lost all desire to follow your orders when I did.” He waved his fingers in the air. “Carry on.”

I struggled against the grip the specters had on my arms. Again. He has me under his thumb again. “I can walk by myself!” I screamed as my toes slid awkwardly against the dark foyer floor. “I don’t need to go to the market!”

A black carriage awaited us outside the castle doorway. A third specter opened the carriage door, and my captors heaved me up into the seat like a sack of grain. The one with the letter slid in and took the seat across from me. He stared vacantly at the top of the seat behind me.

I leaned forward, whipping my hand out to stop the carriage door as one of the specters moved to close it. I didn’t care what I touched in the castle anymore. Let the whole thing crumble.

A black-gloved hand covered mine. I jumped back. Ailill stuck his head inside the carriage. His face stopped right before mine, the brim of his hat practically shading me under it. The sight of his face so close to mine, unveiled and painted with disdain, caused a thunderous racing of my heart. It was as if I’d just run the length of the entire village.

“You kept your hair short,” he said. He reached his free hand toward it, then pulled back.

I’d once let the bushy mess of black hair grow as long as it wanted, but once I cropped it closely to my scalp, I found it easier to deal with. “There hasn’t been enough time for it to grow, anyway. Not for me.”

He snorted. “Of course. But it makes me remember you as you were, long ago. When you cursed me and every man whether he deserved it or not.” He leaned back a bit, putting more space between our faces. “I think you will be most interested in going with my servants to the market,” he said. “But there will be no need to thank me in person afterward. I would rather not see you again.” His eyes drifted upwards, thoughtfully. “In fact, remind the villagers that I am closed to all audiences. My servants will be out there to see that my edict is obeyed.”

Before I could speak, he leaned back and let my hand fall from his. He reached around the door to close it.


And slammed it in my face.

About Amy: 

Amy McNulty is a freelance writer and
editor from Wisconsin with an honors degree in English. She was first published
in a national scholarly journal (The Concord Review) while in high
school and currently writes professionally about everything from business
marketing to anime. In her down time, you can find her crafting stories with
dastardly villains and antiheroes set in fantastical medieval settings. Visit
her website at

Giveaway Details:

1 winner will receive an eBook of NOBODY’S
GODDESS and an eGalley of NOBODY’S LADY. International.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Thursday, February 25, 2016

Trailer Reveal + Giveaway of FACSIMILE by Vicki L. Weavil

Welcome to this week’s M9B Friday Reveal! But wait it's a Thursday you're probably asking yourself! Yes it is but we have a super special reveal for you today and we will have a reveal tomorrow as well!

This week, we are revealing the trailer for
Facsimile by Vicki L. Weavil
an upcoming Month9Books Title!

facsimile ebook final

Author: Vicki L. Weavil
Pub. Date: March
8, 2016
Publisher: Month9Books
Format: Hardcover,
Paperback & eBook
Find it:
| B&N
For a ticket to Earth, seventeen-year-old Anna-Maria “Ann” Solano is willing to jettison her birth planet, best friend, and the boy who loves her. Especially since all she’s required to do is escort Dace Keeling, a young naturalist, through the wilderness of the partially terraformed planet Eco. Ann‘s determination to escape the limitations of her small, frontier colony never falters, until Dace’s expeditions uncover three secrets. One offers riches, one shatters Ann’s perceptions of herself, and one reveals that the humans stranded on Eco are not its only inhabitants.
Ann’s willing to sacrifice friendship and love for a new life on Earth. But when an entire species is placed in jeopardy by her actions, she must make a choice – fulfill the dream that’s always sustained her, or save the planet she’s never considered home.
Now here's the trailer!

Vicki Weavil 11
Vicki L. Weavil is represented by Fran Black of Literary Counsel. Her Young Adult Fantasy, CROWN OF ICE -- a dark YA retelling of H.C. Andersen's "The Snow Queen" -- is published by Month9Books. Two companion books to CROWN OF ICE -- SCEPTER OF FIRE and ORB OF LIGHT -- will be published in 2016 and 2017.
Her YA SciFi -- FACSIMILE -- will be published by Month9Books in 2016, with a sequel, DERIVATION, to follow.
A new YA Fantasy, THE DIAMOND THIMBLE, will be published by Month9Books in 2018.
She also writes adult SciFi.
Author Links: Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads | Tumblr

Complete the Rafflecopter below for a chance to win.
Title will be sent upon its release.

Tuesday, February 23, 2016

Through the Veil by Colleen Halverson Blog Tour - 2/22 to 3/4(excerpt)

Where the fairy tale ends, destiny begins.

Title: Through the Veil
Series: Aisling Chronicles
Author: Colleen Halverson
Genre: Fantasy Romance
Publishers: Entangled Publishing
(Feb 22, 2016)
Paperback:400 pages
ISBN: 978-1682811092

Elizabeth Tanner is no Tinkerbell, and her life is no fairy tale. Broke and drowning in student loans, the one thing she wants more than anything is a scholarship from the Trinity Foundation. But after the ancient Irish text she's studying turns out to be more than just a book, she becomes their prisoner instead. And when Trinity reveals Elizabeth is half-Fae, she finds herself at the center of a plot to save the magical races of Ireland from a brutal civil war.

As Commander of Trinity's elite warriors, Finn O'Connell isn't used to having his authority challenged. He doesn't know whether to punish or protect the infuriating young woman in his custody. When he discovers the Dark Fae want to use Elizabeth's abilities to control the source of all power in the universe, he'll risk everything to help her.

At the mercy of Trinity and enslaved to the Dark Fae, Elizabeth finds herself alone on the wrong side of an Irish myth thousands of years in the making. Refusing to be a pawn in their game, Elizabeth has to fight her way back to the man she loves, but to do so, she must wage her own war against the magic that binds her.

Find a copy at your favorite retailer: Amazon | B&N | iTunes | Kobo | Entangled | Goodreads

Excerpt Two:
Finn looked up at me. “Are you jealous?”
         Heat rose in my face, and I placed my elbow on the table, allowing a curtain of my hair to fall between us to block Finn’s view.
         “Don’t flatter yourself, Finn.”
         “You are jealous!” He chuckled a little to himself.
         “Shut up.”
         “You fancy me!”
         “I hate you.”
         Finn laughed. “Oh, no, I don’t think so. I think you like me, Elizabeth Tanner.”
         I whirled on him. “Do not.”
         “Do too.” Finn folded his arms in a challenge.
         I let out an exasperated sound. “Just shut up.” I said, grabbing my pencil and erasing my last conjugation error so hard I tore through the paper.  “Unlike you, I don’t play mind games. I don’t like you, and I don’t want anything to do with you.”
         “What do you mean ‘mind games’?”
         I shook my head, throwing down my pencil. “Oh, please, don’t…don’t be like that.”
         “Like what?”
         I stared at Finn. “Since we had,” —I lowered my voice, not sure if we were alone in the cavernous library—“sex—you’ve barely said two words to me except to growl at me about Irish vampires.”
         “That’s not—”
         “We had sex, okay? It happens.” I picked up my pencil and began scanning Arranmore again, but all the words blurred together. “I mean, you don’t have to get so moody about it. It was just…it was just sex.”
         There was a long pause, and I could feel Finn’s eyes boring into me.
         “That wasn’t just sex, Elizabeth.” His soft voice reminded me of the feel of his tongue running down my flesh. I stifled a shiver, my pencil dragging trenches across my notebook paper. Frustrated, I slammed it on the desk, and Finn jumped.
         “Then what do you think it was?” I glared at him. “Because I’ve slept with enough frat-tastic douchebags to know not to wait around for a phone call from asshats like you. So, thank you for the ‘just sex’ and for treating me like I gave you a bad case of the clap afterward. That was awesome. Best. Really.” I picked up my pencil and scribbled a few more notes.  
         “Is that what you think?”
         “That you’re a douchebag? Yes.”
         Finn’s voice lowered to a thin hiss. “I didn’t go into your room that night to try to sleep with you.”
         I whirled on him, pointing my pencil in his face. “You’re such a goddamn liar, Finn. You don’t think I’ve got your number? I wanted to fuck you. So we did. End of story, so just stop acting so weird about it.”
         Finn’s face fell, all the blood draining from it. “I’ll stop acting weird if you stop acting weird.”
         “I’m not acting weird!”
         “Then why are you yelling at me?”
         “I’m not yelling—!” I stopped myself mid hysterical scream and whispered, “You really are the worst, aren’t you?”
         Finn flashed me a sly smile, but then his face grew serious again. “I’m sorry for hurting you. It’s been a long time since…” He swallowed hard. “Since I’ve been with someone. I forgot myself and…my manners.”
         I laughed. “You really expect me to believe that? Irish supermodel alpha warrior dude has trouble getting laid? Yeah. Okay. Whatever.”
         “It’s not…I mean,” Finn ran his hands through his hair and sighed. “Believe what you like.”

As a child, Colleen Halverson used to play in the woods imagining worlds and telling stories to herself. Growing up on military bases, she found solace in her local library and later decided to make a living sharing the wonders of literature to poor, unsuspecting college freshman. After backpacking through Ireland and singing in a traditional Irish music band, she earned a PhD in English with a specialization in Irish literature. When she’s not making up stories or teaching, she can be found hiking the rolling hills of the Driftless area of Wisconsin with her husband and two children.

Connect with Colleen Halverson

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Visit the rest of the stops on the tour for more!

Excerpt A Sky Full of Stars Blog
Excerpt Cassandra's Reviews
Excerpt Lore Lush Books

Excerpt Zoe Forward, Author
Review Warrior Woman Winmill
Excerpt Lisa's Loves(Books of Course) 

Review Könyv Extrák
Review Carries Book Reviews 

Review Tome Tender 
Excerpt Rants N Scribbles
Review + Excerpt Rabid Reads

Review + Guestpost My fictional escape
Review T&L Book Reviews
Excerpt Diana's Book Reviews
Guestpost + Excerpt Kitty's Book Spot!
Excerpt RhiReading

Review + Excerpt Bitten by Romance
Review + Excerpt Happy tails and tales 
Guestpost Whatever You Can Still Betray
Review + Interview  Resch Reads and Reviews

Review + Excerpt Splashes Into Books
Excerpt Reading on the Rocks
Review + Excerpt Lynn's Romance Enthusiasm
Excerpt Book Groupies

Review + Excerpt Rae's Rockin Reviews
Review Jeri's Book Attic
Review + Excerpt Mama Reads Hazel Sleeps

Excerpt Kindle and Me
Review + Excerpt Kelly Smith Reviews
Review Snoopydoo's Book Reviews
Review one girl lost in romance books
Guestpost Reading Between the Wines Book Club
Review + Excerpt vampy and racey

Tycoon by Joanna Shupe- 4* (OMG love this cover!)

Title: Tycoon
Series: Knickerbocker Club

Author: Joanna Shupe

Genre: Historical Romance
Rating: * * * *
Publishers: Zebra
(Feb 23, 2016)
FTC Disclosure: ARC provided by the publisher via Netgalley

Sometimes the journey is more pleasurable than the destination . . .
In Gilded Age New York City, the bachelors of the Knickerbocker Club spend their days rubbing elbows with Manhattan's most elite citizens--and their nights with its most intoxicating women . . . 
Standing on the platform at Grand Central Station, Ted Harper is surprised by a fiery kiss from an undeniably gorgeous damsel in distress. He's certain she's a swindler who's only after his money, but he's never met a woman so passionate and sure of herself. Disarmed, he invites her to spend the journey to St. Louis in his private car--perhaps against his better judgment . . . 

Clara Dawson has long known how to take care of herself, but the savvy shop girl is at a loss when she witnesses--and becomes entangled in--a terrible crime. Desperation propels her into a stranger's arms at the train station, but she hadn't expected Ted to offer her the protection she so badly needs--nor did she expect their chemistry to develop more steam than the engine of the train. He's everything she never thought she could have, and she's everything he didn't know he wanted. But as her secrets begin to unfurl, their fledgling romance could be in danger of derailing before they arrive at the next station . . . 

First of all (and I'm not usually one that drools over a book cover, butttt) this cover model reminds me so much of two of my fav
Western actors, James Garner as Maverick, but with Robert Mitchum's cleft chin (with what "we" now apparently are calling "butt chins" -seriously! why not just call them "Kardashian chins"). A total waste of an awesome cover model on an ebook cause he was so hot! You see the cover one time! One time! Well maybe two- once when you purchase it and once when you start the book. One of the reasons, I still fav the printed word over the e-book.  Sorry, to get back to the job at hand--the book-the book!
This was a book and a series that I really wanted to love. Not that it was bad just not as great as I was expecting. I went into the book expecting more historical history than I got. This is my favorite time in history and I was really looking forward to "seeing" the fascinating scenes of Old New York. If I could go back in time to visit (not live mind you as I do love my creature comforts) the era from the 1890's to the 1920's in New York would be it.  My disappointment is my  fault as I had googled "The Gilded Age" and checked out Shupe's Pinterest site where she has some awesome dresses from this time (I probably spent near an hour looking at the outfits from this era and pictures from old New York before reading this book). And this was a novella so length may have precluded these marvelous details from being added.
I'm willing to give Shupe a pass and I already have pre-ordered Magnate based on the characters, Ted and Clara. I loved the thoroughly modern Clara who works for a living (OMG!) and is pretty independent and definitely a talker. Even though originally Ted suspected that Clara was a con-artist, I loved how protective he was to her. I wish she had told Ted earlier why she was being chased as  I think her hiding this was not beneficial to the story but just a plotline. Ted could just as well have helped and protected her without this lie between them. I would have loved seeing them work together to sort out the mystery. I know that there "must" be conflict and they "must" overcome it to have a HEA plotline but I'm kinda burned out on that boring predictability. 

Knickerbocker Club Series

A Girl's Guide to Moving On by Debbie Macomber-4 1/2 *

Title: A Girl's Guide to Moving On
New Beginnings 
Author: Debbie Macomber
Genre: Contemporary Women
Rating: * * * * 1/2
Publishers: Ballantine Books
(Feb 23, 2016)
Hardback: 352 pages
ISBN: 978-0553391923
FTC Disclosure: ARC provided by the 
publisher via Netgalley

In this powerful and uplifting novel from #1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber, a mother and her daughter-in-law bravely leave their troubled marriages and face the challenge of starting over. Leaning on each other, Nichole and Leanne discover that their inner strength and capacity for love are greater than they ever imagined.
When Nichole discovers that her husband, Jake, has been unfaithful, the illusion of her perfect life is indelibly shattered. While juggling her young son, a new job, and volunteer work, Nichole meets Rocco, who is the opposite of Jake in nearly every way. Though blunt-spoken and rough around the edges, Rocco proves to be a dedicated father and thoughtful friend. But just as their relationship begins to blossom, Jake wagers everything on winning Nichole back—including their son Owen’s happiness. Somehow, Nichole must find the courage to defy her fears and follow her heart, with far-reaching consequences for them all.
Leanne has quietly ignored her husband’s cheating for decades, but is jolted into action by the echo of Nichole’s all-too-familiar crisis. While volunteering as a teacher of English as a second language, Leanne meets Nikolai, a charming, talented baker from Ukraine. Resolved to avoid the heartache and complications of romantic entanglements, Leanne nonetheless finds it difficult to resist Nikolai’s effusive overtures—until an unexpected tragedy tests the very fabric of her commitments.

An inspiring novel of friendship, reinvention, and hope, A Girl’s Guide to Moving On affirms the ability of every woman to forge a new path, believe in love, and fearlessly find happiness.

While this was not one of my most favorite Debbie Macomber books, I still enjoyed it. I loved the idea of both a mother and daughter-in-law striking out on their own after enduring cheating husbands and having each other to lean on. The characters, especially Rocco and Nikolai, made me smile and I caught myself silently cheering them on in their conquests to romance Nichole and Leanne. 
New Beginnings 
1. Last One Home (2015)

2. A Girl's Guide to Moving On (2016)