BOOKS AND BLOGGING PHILOSOPHY

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.

NEW VISITORS AND OLD- WELCOME!

NEW VISITORS AND OLD- WELCOME!
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?


Sunday, April 2, 2017

Blog Tour & Giveaway For WOLF SIGHT By Rachel M. Raithby


Book Title: Wolf Sight
Author: Rachel M. Raithby
Genre: YA Fantasy
Release Date: April 1, 2017
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
Goodreads
GR
The packs have aligned. Peace is here. But it came at a price.


Cage’s world shifted when Katalina arrived but not in the way he’d expected. The pain is tearing him apart, and with each day, he loses a piece of himself. Unable to watch Katalina love someone else, Cage sees no other option but to leave the pack.


Will he find the answers he seeks? Or has he taken the wrong path, altering the fate of not just himself but the pack he’d once called home?

Anna's world is one of confusion and dreams. When a vision of a boy’s death begins to haunt her, she leaves everything behind in hopes of finding him. But Anna finds far more than she expected. She’ll be pushed to the limits, and her faith will waver.

In the end she must decide—are her visions a gift or a curse?
excerpt


Anna

Anna gasped awake, sorrow and pain clinging to her as the past faded away. It took her several minutes to calm her heart and breathe normally. She always wondered if she would ever grow numb to the effects the dream, the memories, had on her. Yet night after night it caused her the same agony, as fresh as the day it all began.

Anna wouldn’t say she lived. Instead she functioned just enough so that her aunt didn’t have her committed. Functioned so people would think she was nearly normal. Yet in reality, Anna felt as if she stood on the edge of a ravine, looking down into the infinite depths of dark, swirling water. One slip, one misstep, and she’d plunge into the unknown, into the place where only she could go.

She got by enough to keep a job, a “no hope, not going anywhere” job, but still it paid for her tiny, run-down studio, and kept her on a meager diet of instant noodles and potatoes. It was better than the alternative. Better than living under her aunt’s watchful eyes, full of pity and fear.

Anna didn’t blame her aunt for her feelings. Anna feared herself too. The pity though, she couldn’t take. Anna didn’t want pity for the lives she could have saved. It didn’t matter that she’d tried, that no one had believed her. No, Anna would sooner her aunt hate her for what happened rather than pity her. After all, Anna had seen it coming, so in her eyes it was her own fault. She’d been given the information to save them, and she’d failed to get past the obstacles, however impossible they were. It was unforgivable. Anna hated herself for it, hated the dreams, hated her life. It should have been them who’d survived, not her.

Climbing from her bed, Anna then walked to fill the kettle, placing it on the stove to heat. She reached into the cupboard above her, took down her mug and placed a bag of chamomile tea inside. When the water had boiled, she poured the water inside and took the drink to the table. Staring at nothing, but seeing everything, Anna sat through her own personal hell. The witching hour. The hours she suffered most for her mistakes.

Absently, she ran her finger over the carved patterns around the edge of the table. It took up most of the small living space, but it held a special place in her heart. It held memories, ones that brought her a mixture of happiness and sadness. A smile tugged at her lips, despite the dark grief filling her heart. Her finger slowed as it came to the imperfection within the carvings—but her father had never thought of it that way. To him it had been perfection; his daughter’s first real success at carving wood. Anna had loved to watch her father work wood, creating furniture that was as practical as it was beautiful. When she’d been old enough, he’d taught her as he worked, until he’d eventually asked her to help. The table had been in their family home, taking center place in the dining room. Most of the furniture in Anna’s family home had been made by her father. She’d have taken it all with her if she could have, but it hadn’t been possible. Some pieces made it to her aunt’s house; all Anna had taken was her bed and the table with six matching chairs.

Taking the final sip of her tea, Anna sighed heavily and stood. The chamomile hadn’t worked—it often didn’t. She’d not be sleeping again tonight; it was part of the reason why she always had dark circles under her eyes. A full night’s sleep wasn’t something she’d had in a very long time. Eventually though, the constant state of tiredness became normal, and the bags under her eyes a part of herself.

On nights that she couldn’t fall back to sleep, Anna filled the hours from 3:00 a.m. till sunup with drawing or yoga. Today she chose yoga, and by the time it was acceptable to be awake, Anna’s body was covered in a fine layer of sweat, her muscles stretched and loose, and the memories of her past buried enough to get through the day.

She never thought she’d completely rid herself of the memories—they’d always be her burden—but she hoped one day she’d be able to keep them buried for longer. Maybe she’d even learn to shoulder them and come to terms with the events that changed her life forever. Yet she didn’t hold her breath. It was possible to learn to live with losing one’s entire family. But realizing you’d been warned it would happen and then seeing it unfold before you as it once had in your dreams… that was something entirely different.






Rachel M. Raithby started her writing career in 2013 and hasn’t looked back. She draws her inspiration from the many places she has lived and traveled, as well as from her love of the paranormal and thriller movies. She can often be found hiding out with a good book or writing more fast-paced and thrilling stories where love always conquers all. She now lives in rural England with her young family.

Her books include, the adult Paranormal Romance novels ‘The Deadwood Hunter Series’ and the Young Adult series The New Dawn Novels, including the YA Best seller ‘Winter Wolf.'
social media
buy the book
Winter Wolf (A New Dawn Novel, #1)

Wolf Dancer (A New Dawn Novel, #2)
Amazon UK:  http://amzn.to/2obxwob

500x500 BEP Square


No comments: