Friday, November 27, 2015

Straight Chatting From the Library: Naked by Eliza Redgold

11_2 naked VBT_TourBanner_Naked

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Eliza Redgold will be awarding a $20 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.


Why Lady Godiva for a book?

Not only we, the latest seed of Time,
…that in the flying of a wheel
Cry down the past, not only we, that prate
Of rights and wrongs, have loved the people well,
And loathed to see them overtax'd; but she
Did more, and underwent, and overcame,
The woman of a thousand summers back,
Alfred, Lord Tennyson: Godiva (1842)

Thanks for having me on your website. I thought I’d kick off with some Tennyson. Here’s why:

The legend of Lady Godiva, who famously rode naked through the streets of Coventry covered only by her long, flowing hair, has lasted for centuries. Her tale has been revived and romanticized over the centuries, especially during periods of change and liberation in women’s lives. It was in the Middle Ages during the age of courtly love, romance and chivalry, that Godiva’s story became legend. During this period romance was spreading like wildfire through the courts of Europe, flourishing in female-dominated courts in France like that of Eleanor of Aquitaine and her daughter Marie of Champagne, thus giving rise to romance being dubbed ‘the first form of feminism’.

The next Godiva craze was in Victorian times when it gained vogue in the 19th century with the Pre-Raphaelites and their followers, and with poets such as Alfred, Lord Tennyson. This revival occurred just prior to the suffragette movement and even Queen Victoria was a fan – she gave a nude statue of Godiva to Prince Albert.

Today, at the ebb of second wave feminism and the turn of the tide towards the third wave, there’s renewed interest in Lady Godiva. Knowing how important Godiva has been through the ages, in NAKED I aimed to capture her as a romantic heroine and an inspiration to women. I hope I did!


11_2 naked MediaKit_BookCover_Naked We know her name. We know of her naked ride. We don't know her true story.

We all know the legend of Lady Godiva, who famously rode naked through the streets of Coventry, covered only by her long, flowing hair. So the story goes, she begged her husband Lord Leofric of Mercia to lift a high tax on her people, who would starve if forced to pay. Lord Leofric demanded a forfeit: that Godiva ride naked on horseback through the town. There are various endings to Godiva's ride, that all the people of Coventry closed their doors and refused to look upon their liege lady (except for 'peeping Tom') and that her husband, in remorse, lifted the tax. Naked is an original version of Godiva's tale with a twist that may be closer to the truth: by the end of his life Leofric had fallen deeply in love with Lady Godiva. A tale of legendary courage and extraordinary passion, Naked brings an epic story new voice.


If the rider heard he made no sign. Clad in a silver helmet and armored in brown leather, he galloped under the arches, my warning ignored. His great black horse circled the courtyard, raising dust as he halted in front of the steps.

For a moment he didn’t move. Nor did I, except to tighten my fingers on the handle of my blade.

He lifted off his helmet.

A pair of piercing eyes met mine.

This is not Thurkill.

The knowledge flashed into my brain. The man in front of me was tall and strong. Many years younger than my father, perhaps thirty years of age, his face a tanned brown. His hair, tawny as an owl wing, fell to the studded collar of his armor, its leather stretched across his shoulders.

He spoke. “You are Godiva.”

Hawk high I lifted my head. “I am. Who are you? Why have you come to my lands?”

Dirt swirled in the air as his horse hoofed the ground. River deep turned his gaze as he took me in, lingering on the thick braid that fell over my shoulder to brush to my thigh.

“Well?” A flame flickered though me, hotter than fear. A flame I’d never known.

“Who are you?”


11_2 naked MediaKit_AuthorPic_NakedELIZA REDGOLD is an author, academic and unashamed romantic. She writes historical fiction (St Martin’s Press) and romance (Harlequin).

NAKED: A Novel of Lady Godiva was released internationally by St Martin’s Press New York in 2015. Her ‘Romance your Senses’ series of contemporary romances are published by Harlequin. They include Black Diamonds, Hide and Seek and Wild Flower. Eliza is also contracted to Harlequin Historical for two upcoming Victorian historical romances. Look out for Enticing Benedict Cole in November 2015.

Eliza Redgold is based upon the old, Gaelic meaning of her name, Dr Elizabeth Reid Boyd. English folklore has it that if you help a fairy, you will be rewarded with red gold. She has presented academic papers on women and romance and is a contributor to the forthcoming Encyclopedia of Romance Fiction. She was born in Irvine, Scotland on Marymass Day and currently lives in Australia.


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Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Straight Browsing from the Library: Become You by Toneka R. Etienne

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Toneka R. Etienne will be awarding a signed copy of Become You to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.


Ready to create lasting transformation in your life? Become You reveals a practical lifestyle blueprint for the modern day woman. Begin your deep dive transformation by turning an honest, but loving mirror on your belief systems, habits, and spiritual life. This book will help you create a balanced lifestyle so that you can passionately pursue your goals and dreams without losing yourself in the process.


I started working on my PhD in the fall of 2007. My husband and I had secured new full-time jobs and moved to metro Atlanta one month earlier, with our eight-month-old daughter in tow. From the outside looking in, this goal looked like a pretty lofty one, working on a doctorate degree while working full time and fulfilling my roles as wife and mother to a husband and a young infant. But for me, those first two and a half years of coursework were, for lack of better words, a piece of cake. I had a certain mindset, a focus that was unshakable. I also had this unexplainable confidence about myself, which proved to give me an advantage at the perfect time.

Approximately two and half years into my program, I traveled to Minneapolis for a residency, during which we were encouraged to begin the search for our dissertation chairs. The dissertation, an extremely long piece of writing with lots of research, usually required to obtain your doctorate degree, was the final piece of the puzzle to complete my doctorate. There are several procedures and processes in place to walk you through the creation of this extensive body of research. The first step is to secure a dissertation chair, or someone who takes the responsibility of guiding you through the process. I quickly perused the list of potential professors who shared similar research interests with me and settled on one name. She was not only an accomplished researcher, she happened to be the Dean of the School of Psychology.

I signed up to have a one-on-one consultation with her during the residency, knowing that this would be my time to pitch her my research proposal and ask her if she would be my chair. I sat down in front of her, full of excitement, and proceeded to tell her my research interest, African American mothers and daughters. Looking back, I really had no idea what I was talking about. I could barely articulate to her what my research ultimately entailed, but one thing I emphatically stated to her, “I have chosen you to be my chair.” She laughed, and I’m sure she was taken aback, since students do not typically tell professors what they’re going to do. But I had an undeniable confidence in myself and knew that, with her in my corner, I could get this degree completed. She gave me a tentative yes and required me to submit a proposal to her that evening. I spent at least three hours that night working on it, but once I submitted it to her, the deal was sealed, and the rest is history.

Just two short months later, that undeniable confidence was no more, and I was stuck. Two and half years of coursework had culminated in me standing at the bottom of yet another mountain, the dissertation. The U.S. Department of Education has estimated that the average doctorate attrition rate is between 40 to 50 percent. Of those 40 to 50 percent, African Americans earned only 6.1 percent of the doctorates awarded in the 2006 – 2007 academic school year, despite making up 13 percent of the population. Can you see how the odds were stacked against me? Of course, knowing all of this information prior to beginning my doctorate journey didn’t exactly help me, and I reached a point that everything came crashing down.

I was completely overwhelmed. Fear inevitably set in.


Toneka R. Etienne, Ph.D., is a Psychologist, wife, mother, Huffington Post contributor, and creator at Toneka is a self-love advocate encouraging women to balance their daily lives with the ambition to continually pursue their dreams. Her calling is to fully support women as they call soulful purpose and intention into their life and business connected to their deepest and most authentic selves. When she’s not holding sacred space for women’s transformation, Toneka can be found doing her favorite things: spending time with her husband and two daughters, traveling, reading, connecting with like-minded visionaries, and looking for divine inspiration.


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Straight Chatting from the Library: Deadly Shot by Patricia Murphy

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Patricia Murphy will be awarding a $20 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.


Hi Dan, can you tell us a little bit about Deadly Shot, the novel you are in?

Will it take long? You see I really want to practice my “keepy-uppy” moves – you know where you keep the ball up in the air for as long as possible. I’m the best at in Dublin. I’m not boasting or anything. I can easily go to a thousand. I’ve got this new one called “figure of eight” where I bounce the ball on my head, shoulders, knees, and feet, chest. That’s eight parts of the body and…

Sorry to interrupt but just give us a bit of background to Deadly Shot?

I’m twelve, and I live in Dublin, which is a great city. My family aren't very rich or anything. My parents come from different religions, so their own families disowned them when they married. There’s this horrible war going on. It’s a guerrilla war, which is nothing to do with gorillas in the jungle. You see, we want Ireland to be free fro the British Empire, but they won’t let us. So the rebels, led by Michael Collins have this new style of war. We’re an invisible army . . .

Aren’t you a bit young to be in a war? Are you a boy soldier?`

I promised my cousin Molly I wouldn’t ever fire a gun. It’s hard because loads of boys are "in it". The Black and Tans and the Auxiliaries who are the enemy troops on the street are really nasty. But well, can you keep a secret? I’m kind of in the Fianna Boy Scouts. I’m a trusted messenger for the rebel leader Michael Collins. I saved one of his Volunteers at a checkpoint by causing a diversion with my ball skills. So he escaped arrest. Collins saw me and asked me to deliver messages. Our soldiers are all in hiding or on the run. But if my Mam or Dad find out, they’ll kill me – not really, they’ll just be really mad. But my Dad is away at sea, and my mother is stuck in the house looking after my sister poor Josephine, whose sick all the time. So, they can’t keep an eye on me.

Who is Michael Collins?

He’s our leader. The call him the “Scarlet Pimpernel” like the fellow in the French Revolution. They seek him here, they seek him there. There’s a price on his head, and he organizes these hits on spies. He’s really clever. They’ll never catch him. We want Ireland to be a republic, but Britain says we have to stay part of the United Kingdom. We had a vote to leave, the whole country wants to, but they won’t let us. Then they all started fighting. I must admit I don’t really understand it all. And well, I saw all these attacks 21st November 1920. I’m still having nightmares. Collins ordered the shooting of British spies. Fourteen were killed. Bloody Sunday they’re calling it. The British troops shot into a crowd of innocent civilians and killed fourteen. The horrible balance sheet of war. It’s not very nice, this fighting. My cousin Molly hates it. I don’t really want to talk about all that shooting and stuff.

Let’s change the subject. What about schoolwork? Do you read?

I mostly go to school. But there’s this British spy chasing me. He’s a double agent, and I have to go on the run with Molly. That’s the problem – you can’t get away from war.

I don’t always like school, to tell the truth. I’m left handed, and the teacher doesn’t like that. He makes me write with my right hand. But I do like Maths at school. I read Maths books sometimes. It calms my mind. My brother and I love Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle. We’ve read them all. That Moriarty is evil. You know that spy who is on my case – he reminds me of Moriarty. Funny thing is Collins calls us messengers his “Baker Street Irregulars’. I love Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stephenson. I wish I could find buried treasure. My father reads poetry to us. He loves John Masefield who wrote this poem called “Sea Fever” about loving the sea. He knew him as he’s a sailor too. The poem reminds me of my Dad. He’s gone missing on his last voyage. I don’t want to think about it. It makes me sad.

Tell us about your cousin Molly.

She told me to keep this diary. She kept one when she was caught up in the Easter Rebellion in Dublin in 1916, and she said it helped her. She’s nearly seventeen now, and she’s a medical student, even though she's a girl. She reads a lot of medical books. She is ace, really clever. During the rebellion, she went looking for her brother Jack. She’s seen a lot of injuries and dead bodies and stuff. So she hates violence. But the rebels trust her. She looks after their fighters who’ve got injured and don’t want to go to hospitals in case they get arrested. If I have a problem, I go to her. She wants me to stop being a messenger. It’s all a bit complicated. You need to read the book to see why.

Who will like reading Deadly Shot?

Boys and girls who like exciting stories. Anyone who wants to know what it’s like to live in a war. I’m very honest about what’s going on, the things I see, the dangers I face. I’m just an ordinary boy, even if I’m good at football, caught up in a dangerous time. It’s nail-biting, full of twists and turns and moral problems, I suppose you’d call them. What's right and wrong when the world is upside down? I’m good at running. But can I outrun a war?


Football mad, twelve- year- old Dan is a trusted messenger for Ireland’s rebel leader, Michael Collins. He promises his cousin Molly to never fire a gun, but after the dramatic events of “Bloody Sunday” in Croke Park, he is pulled deeper into the struggle. Hunted by a vengeful Intelligence Officer, Molly and Dan are forced to flee Dublin. But unknown to Dan, he holds the key to a deadly plot. And his enemy will stop at nothing to track him down. On the run, they meet Flying Columns and narrowly escape death But as Cork burns can Dan continue to outrun his enemy?


The mean-faced Tan moved forward and cocked a gun in my direction. “You with the ball! Stop, you little Fenian brat, or I’ll shoot!”

He advanced towards me, his eyes flaming down the barrel of the gun. I thought I was going to wet myself with fear.

On impulse, I skied the ball straight up to heaven. It soared higher than the rooftops. Everyone tilted their heads. From the corner of my eye I glimpsed the young rebel making a run for it towards Saint Andrew’s church on the opposite side of the road.

“POW!” a shot rang out.

I prayed it wasn’t the rebel. But the lifeless thud of my ball was almost as bad. The Tan had shot my dearest possession. But they hadn’t even seen the gunman!


Patricia Murphy is an award-winning children’s author and Producer/Director of documentaries. Her most recent novel is Deadly Shot – Dan’s Diary - the War of Independence 1920-22. Previous works include the critically acclaimed Easter Week 1916 – Molly’s Diary, described as “brilliantly imagined”, “beautifully written and compelling” and “ fantastic at bringing history alive for children”. She is also the author of The Chingles Celtic Fantasy trilogy. She was the winner of the Poolbeg “Write a Bestseller for Children” Competition 2004. She is also an award-winning Producer/Director of primetime documentaries for BBC and Channel 4. These include Children of Helen House on the Oxford children’s hospice for BBC. She created and filmed the launch programmes of Born to Be Different the Channel 4 flagship series following six children with disabilities through the 21st century. Other films include Behind the Crime about criminals and Raised by the State on growing up in care. She has also made Worst Jobs in History with Tony Robinson for Channel 4.


Buy Deadly Shot – Dan’s Diary at Amazon, Amazon UK, or Poolbeg.

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Monday, November 23, 2015

Straight Browsing from the Library: Space Cadets by Laurence Moroney

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Laurence will be awarding a signed copy of Space Cadets to a randomly drawn winner (US ONLY) via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.


After conflicts in Korea, Pakistan and the Middle East turned nuclear, the world stood on the eve of destruction. Realizing that we only have this one precious planet containing all of humanity, the United Nations pulled us back from the brink, and started a new, multinational effort to conquer space. Many years later, the peak of achievement for any young person is to be admitted to the Space Academy. Previously available only to a precious few, it has recently opened enrollment to anybody who can meet their strenuous entry criteria. Space Cadets is the story of the first African-American girl, Aisha Parks, to enter into the academy, where she learns that the more some things change, the more they stay the same, and despite the honorable intentions of the academy, there are some dark secrets being kept – secrets that could be the end of us all.



It never failed to give her a thrill when she saw the moonscape rush by underneath her ship, and the blue curve of Earth rise above it. Aisha smiled at its beauty.

Down there, girls her age were wondering about homecoming dances, and what dress they’d wear, or which boy would ask them out. She was much happier here, piloting her ship, zipping at breakneck speeds across the Moon, and getting ready to break into deep space.

“I think I see them,” said David, her navigator and co-pilot, sitting in one of the wing pods to her right. “Two-seven-zero karem one-nine-eight.”

“Confirmed,” came the clipped voice of Soo-Kyung, her gunner. Aisha glanced to the pod on her left and her eyes met Soo-Kyung’s. The Korean girl smiled and nodded.

Aisha always wanted a visual confirmation. Comm lines could be hacked and voices faked. Soo-Kyung knew this instinctively. That’s what made them a great team.

“Okay,” said Aisha. “Weapons hot. Let’s check them out.”

She punched in the coordinates, and the ship turned towards their target.

“Visual range in five seconds,” said David.

“I see them,” Aisha replied. Her heads up display started to light up with targets. Squares projected on her canopy, wrapping tiny dots that could easily be mistaken for stars to the naked eye.

“That’s a lot of ships,” she said, awe sneaking into her voice.

“That’s a bloody awful lot of ships,” said David.

Soo-Kyung was business as always. “Orders?”

“Can you confirm ship type?”

“They are mostly type-three fighters. About eighty of them.”

“What else?”

“A single mothership. That’s the target.”

“No other fighters?”

“A couple of type-ones, but hard to tell with all the movement.”

The fighters were moving around the mothership, following what looked like random patterns, making it hard to get a radar lock.

“Are they moving to intercept?”

“No, sir.”

“David, probe the edge of their defense shield.”

His gentle voice sounded in her earpiece. “Yes, Sir.”

David took the ship forward slowly, while Soo-Kyung watched the behavior of the enemy fighters. They knew from experience that these ships could turn from defense to offense in the blink of an eye. If they didn’t react, they could find themselves surrounded and destroyed in seconds.

“We are at the edge of previous attack ranges,” said Soo-Kyung. “Recommend that we hold at this position.”

“Do it.”

The ship halted, and they floated in space, watching the enemy.

“Any update on ship types, David?”

“The best I got is maybe two or three type-ones, the rest are definitely type-three.”

She wished she had read the spec books more closely, but was glad David was there. “Turning radius of type-threes?”

“Two hundred degrees,” he answered, almost in reflex.

“Distance of fighters from the mothership?”

“Average about three hundred clicks.”

Soo-Kyung raised an eyebrow. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Yes,” said Aisha. “Full frontal assault, all shields on front.”

“If we leave our back exposed--”

“Hopefully they won’t get a chance. Maximum throttle, straight at the mothership, direct all energy to front shields.”

“Including lasers?”

“Including lasers. We’re on bullets and torpedoes. Can you do it?”

She heard the smile in Soo-Kyung’s voice. “Done.”

“Good. And fire at will.”


“David. Punch course in.”

“Course, aye.”

“Manual control to me.”


“Here goes nothing!”

Aisha punched the program, and she felt the craft lurch as they accelerated forward. She continued its burn, getting faster and faster as they approached the enemy ships.

“Ships turning to intercept.”


She saw the enemy ships swarming to intercept. Suddenly their random patterns stopped, and they turned, almost as one, bearing down on her. They opened fire, but the forward shields held.

“Intercept in five seconds,” said Soo-Kyung. Aisha marveled at her ability to stay calm, and it seemed the more stressful the situation, the calmer she was.

And just like that they flew through the squadrons of enemy fighters, on a course straight for the mothership.

“They’re turning to intercept.”

Time seemed to slow down in her mind. The mothership approached weapons range at a painful crawl. The enemy fighters, now behind her, were slowly turning to follow them, with a clear shot at Aisha’s tail. She’d turned off their lasers, directing their energy to the shields, so they’d need to be close for ballistic weapons to be effective.

It was going to be tight. Once the enemy fighters had turned around, the back of Aisha’s fighter was exposed. The lead ones had almost turned, and were ready to open fire.

But then Soo-Kyung had her target locked and opened up with everything she had on the mothership. Direct hits, but the ship stayed intact.

A hit on their right wing made the ship lurch.

“Now would be a good time, Soo-Kyung.”

Aisha looked to her left, seeing her friends’ face deep in concentration. Another torpedo launched, hitting a module to the rear of the mothership's bridge. A small explosion was followed by several large ones, but before the ship was destroyed, Aisha’s ship was hit again. This time right in the engines.

Aisha felt her ship lurch. Red lights all over her console. The reactor had taken a direct hit. It was about to go critical. Her heart was beating hard. She reached for the eject buttons, hesitating long enough to see the mothership go up in a ball of flame.

The moment’s hesitation was enough.She felt the ship lurch as the reactor gave out. Her mind slowed as the white flash enveloped them. She had enough time to realize, with resignation, that she was dead. Both co-pilots too.

The simulator door opened, and Captain Simms’ craggy face looked in at her.

“You’re dead. All of you. Again,” he said. Disapproval in his voice. “I thought you guys were better than that.”


a Rafflecopter giveawayLaurence Moroney is the author of more books than he’s prepared to admit. After several best selling programming books, his first Young Adult novel “The Fourth World” became a #1 book on Amazon Kindle, spawned two sequels “The Million Year Journey” and “The Legend of the Locust”, and is currently being shopped around studios for a potential movie. “Space Cadets” is his latest, a cutting edge science fiction novel, based on real science that starts a new series charting out humanity’s course to the stars. He’s presently working on the sequel “The Quiet World”, which he hopes to finish in 2015. For his day job, Laurence works as a Developer Advocate for Google, where he is constantly counting his blessings for being part of the best workplace in the world…

Find him here:

Space Cadets Blog:
Space Cadets Website:

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Straight Reading from the Library: King Arthur's Sister in Washington's Court by Kim Iverson Headlee

This review is in conjunction with a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Kim will be awarding a $20 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.


Morgan le Fay, 6th-century Queen of Gore and the only major character not killed off by Mark Twain in A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, vows revenge upon the Yankee Hank Morgan. She casts a spell to take her to 1879 Connecticut so she may waylay Sir Boss before he can travel back in time to destroy her world. But the spell misses by 300 miles and 200 years, landing her in the Washington, D.C., of 2079, replete with flying limousines, hovering office buildings, virtual-reality television, and sundry other technological marvels.

Whatever is a time-displaced queen of magic and minions to do? Why, rebuild her kingdom, of course—two kingdoms, in fact: as Campaign Boss for the reelection of American President Malory Beckham Hinton, and as owner of the London Knights world-champion baseball franchise.

Written as though by the old master himself, King Arthur’s Sister in Washington’s Court by Mark Twain as channeled by Kim Iverson Headlee offers laughs, love, and a candid look at American society, popular culture, politics, baseball...and the human heart.


This is such a fun book on what the "what if" Morgan le Fay found herself in late 21st century United States. It's written in as a sequel, an in the style of Mark Twain, author of A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, and the author does a remarkable job. So much so I now want to go back and read Mark Twain's again!

Morgan still has her magic and utilizes it well to fulfill her new calling - a "Boss" who realizes that the power is often behind the throne as she helps the American president Malory Beckham Hinton (snicker) make some major changes in the political realm (not spending more than you take in? radical ideas).

It's not necessary to be familiar with the Twain classic to enjoy this book (frankly, I've forgotten a lot about it- it's been so long since I read it), but there were some references back to it that I think someone more familiar with the original would get a fuller experience. All in all, great job, Ms. Headlee. 5 stars.



I’m given to understand some of my posthumous critics have intimated that I was jealous of Jules Verne—that maybe I even felt threatened by him. I have never heard such cocky popping beetle dung in my entire death.

Verne was a hack of the First Order whose publisher (engaged after he had inflicted two decades of the most unengaging whining and pleading, pining and wheedling upon all the other High Lords of Bookdom) viewed it necessary to transform his dyspeptic drivel into something within shouting distance of palatability for the reading public. Jules Verne didn’t invent science fiction; his publisher, Pierre-Jules Hetzel, did,—and I’m sorry I wasn’t born a couple of decades sooner to save everyone the time, trouble, and confusion.

As for this book, here I confess it’s long past overdue. I buried one clue in the joined opposites of Hank Morgan, Technology-Wielder, and Morgan le Fay, Magic-Wielder. Furthermore, Mrs. le Fay was the only important character in A Connecticut Yankee whom I didn’t kill off, of the thousands I did lasso, hang, shoot, electrocute, explode, drown, torpedo, and otherwise murder. Unfortunately, certain Weightier Matters contravened my intent, and I never put pen to parchment to commence the duologue’s conclusion within my lifetime. That nobody acted upon my clues in the hundred years since my sadly unexaggerated demise, speaks to the fact that I’ve been waiting till I’m well and truly dead before whispering my words into the quick and able ear of my chosen Ghost-Writer. For the matters depicted herein, of course, are things which ought to be settled. I don’t have anything else in particular to do in eternity anyway.


Kim Headlee lives on a farm in southwestern Virginia with her family, cats, goats, Great Pyrenees goat guards, and assorted wildlife. People and creatures come and go, but the cave and the 250-year-old house ruins—the latter having been occupied as recently as the mid-twentieth century—seem to be sticking around for a while yet.

Kim is a Seattle native and a direct descendent of twentieth-century Russian nobility. Her grandmother was a childhood friend of the doomed Grand Duchess Anastasia, and the romantic yet tragic story of how Lydia escaped Communist Russia with the aid of her American husband will most certainly one day fuel one of Kim’s novels. Another novel in the queue will involve her husband’s ancestor, the seventh-century proto-Viking king of the Swedish colony in Russia.

For the time being, however, Kim has plenty of work to do in creating her projected 8-book Arthurian series, The Dragon’s Dove Chronicles, and other novels under her imprint, Pendragon Cove Press. She has been a published novelist since 1999, beginning with the original edition of Dawnflight (Sonnet Books, Simon & Schuster, ISBN 0671020412).

Street Team “Kim’s All-Stars” –

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Friday, November 20, 2015

Straight Chatting from the Library: Rachel Brimble

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Rachel Brimble will be awarding a $25 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.


What is your reading comfort zone?

My absolute favorite genres are romantic suspense and historical fiction (especially when the book includes past British monarchy!), but I mostly read everything and anything. The only exception is intense sci-fi or paranormal. I just can’t stretch my imagination that far. Some of my favorite authors are Nora Roberts, Philippa Gregory, Stephen King & Jodi Picoult.

What makes you love a book?

The characters, always – I think the characters make a story regardless of the plot. You can have the most exciting plot in the world on paper, but I think it’s the characters that jump off the page and make the reader keep turning the pages.

How do you feel about giving bad/negative reviews?

I never leave a negative review and never will – I honestly don’t see the point of criticizing someone’s work publicly. Maybe it’s because I’m a writer myself, I’m not sure, but I was always taught if I’ve nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all. I use the same thinking about books too!

Favorite film adaptation of a novel?

My absolute favorite is Gone With The Wind, but I also enjoyed Message In A Bottle by Nicholas Sparks and The Green Mile by Stephen King.

Most disappointing film adaptation?

I am a huge Jodi Picoult fan but My Sister’s Keeper movie disappointed me because a big part of the book was missing/changed. Spoiled the viewing for me…

Do you like to keep your books organized?

Yes! I am a complete bibliophile and my shelves are overflowing. I have special shelves for my author signed copies and all the others are stored in alphabetical order. I have no idea how many books I have in total, but know that I have so many I haven’t yet read that I wouldn’t need to buy another book for ten years if I was to read them all. Yet, I still keep buying more…


More family for Christmas?

Scott Walker doesn't have time for a relationship. The sexy mechanic has career ambitions, not to mention a mother and three sisters to take care of. The last thing he needs is Carrie Jameson, the beauty he never forgot, arriving in Templeton Cove over the holidays with some unexpected news.

Scott still finds Carrie irresistible, and he's not one to shirk responsibility. Scott's issues with his own dad make the prospect of parenthood a minefield. But if he and Carrie can overcome their fears, this Christmas could bring them the best gift of all.


She glanced around the garage. “I’m sorry to turn up unannounced like this, but I’m here and we need to talk.”

He stared at her in disbelief as questions, demands and weaknesses hurtled around inside him, battling with the intense sexual frustration storming through his body. “Just like that, you turn up and say, ‘We need to talk’?” He shook his head and turned away from her, lest he get caught in the snare of her wide, impossibly gorgeous eyes. “Go away.”


Keeping his back to her, he uncrossed his arms and planted his hands on his hips. He tipped his head back and smiled as insanity rushed his bloodstream. He wanted to grab her, shake her, kiss her and make love to her. God, he wanted to drop to his damn knees in front of her and beg her to tell him where she’d been and now she was back, was she back for good?


He closed his eyes, barely resisting the urge to cover his ears with his hands and block out her tempting voice, achingly laced with the unmistakable sound of a plea. “Whether you want to see me or not, I have to talk to you, and I won’t leave the Cove until you hear me out.”

Her heels clicked closer and his body tensed, waiting for what came next. The dangerous, musky scent of her perfume wafted under his nostrils and he inhaled. She approached the bench beside him and put down a business card. “My number’s on there. I’m staying at the Christie. Call me when you’re ready to talk. It’s important or I wouldn’t have come.”

He glanced at the card. Carrie Jameson. Producer.

She turned and walked away. He let her go, feeling like a smashed up car after a hurricane, tossed and turned through the air before being spewed crudely across the highway, left to rust and burn.

He picked up the card. His hand shook and the rare sting of tears shamed him. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Carrie was back and his libido told him only too clearly there was no way in hell he wouldn’t go to her. How was he supposed to let her go a second time when he’d lived the last three years regretting he didn’t stop her the first time?


Rachel lives with her husband and two teenage daughters in a small town near Bath in the UK. After having several novels published by small US presses, she secured agent representation in 2011. Since 2013, she has had five books published by Harlequin Superromance (Templeton Cove Stories) and three Victorian romances by eKensington/Lyrical.

Rachel is a member of the Romantic Novelists Association and Romance Writers of America, and was selected to mentor the Superromance finalist of So You Think You Can Write 2014 contest. When she isn’t writing, you’ll find Rachel with her head in a book or walking the beautiful English countryside with her family. Her dream place to live is Bourton-on-the-Water in South West England.

She likes nothing more than connecting and chatting with her readers and fellow romance writers. Rachel would love to hear from you!

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Thursday, November 19, 2015

Cover Reveal: Dating on the Dork Side by Charity Tahmaseb and Darcy Vance

The Library is pleased to help Charity Tahmaseb and Darcy Vance reveal the cover of their newest book: Dating on the Dork Side. Charity and Darcy will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to one randomly drawn winner, a print copy of "Dating on the Dork Side" to another randomly drawn winner (US/Canada only) and a print copy of "The Geek Girl's Guide to Cheerleading" to a third randomly drawn commenter (US/Canada only) via rafflecopter during the tour. Now, check out the cover.


11_19 Cover_DatingOnTheDorkSide


Stung by an epic betrayal, Camy Cavanaugh relies on the sure things: her best friend, her job as peer tutor, and her safe spot on the sidelines of life. But when she hacks into a secret, trash-talking website, it ignites a war between the sexes that won’t end until the whole school is turned upside down–and Camy’s world is turned inside out.

Now the hottest girls in school refuse to date the A-List boys. But with the Homecoming dance looming, everyone from the queen bee to the girl “most likely to” pushes Camy to hook them up with guys from the nerd herd.

And then there’s quarterback, A-lister–and former crush–Gavin Madison. He hasn’t spoken to Camy in three years … but he’s talking now, begging her to pair the guys on the football team with girls from the Honor Roll.

It’s a contest of wills and everything is on the line–even Camy’s heart. Will she retreat to the sidelines, or will she find the courage to get back in the game?


Elle sat on the desk so the skirt of her cheerleader uniform fanned out around her. She crossed one leg over the other and planted her palms on the surface behind her.

“In case you haven’t noticed, the guys in this school are tools,” she announced. “And I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m sick of it.”

A few girls shifted in their seats. Elle gave me the tiniest of nods, my cue to start the PowerPoint presentation. I clicked the mouse and the presentation lit up the screen just as one of the cheerleaders hit the lights. Elle, now standing to one side, fired up a laser pointer.

The first slide contained a list of sins committed by the boys in our class through the years. They started with bra snapping in fifth grade and ended with the prom date scandal last spring.

“Any of this ring a bell?” she asked. “Make you the teeniest bit angry? Anyone? How many of you seriously considered paying for a date?”

In the dark, I sensed a few involuntary arm jerks. A few fierce whispers floated in the air, but no one raised a hand.

“And what did you think when these guys, who we’ve known since kindergarten, went over to Prairie Stone and found dates there? How many of you ended up alone at the dance?”

This time, a chill settled over the group. Prom hadn’t really been on my radar, but I’d heard the stories, of dresses bought, boutonni√®res ordered, and no-show dates.

“What’s your point?” The question, sharp and angry, came from Clarissa. She’d been stood up too, and only had a date for the dance because Elle arranged a last minute substitute--her own cousin, from Prairie Stone of all places.

“My point.” Elle shook out her hair. “Is that the guys in this school store their brains in their butts and I think it’s time we did something about it.”


Charity Tahmaseb has slung corn on the cob for Green Giant and jumped out of airplanes (but not at the same time). She spent twelve years as a Girl Scout and six in the Army; that she wore a green uniform for both may not be a coincidence. These days, she writes fiction (long and short) and works as a technical writer for a software company in St. Paul.

Her short speculative fiction has appeared in UFO Publishing’s Unidentified Funny Objects and Coffee anthologies, Flash Fiction Online and Cicada.

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Darcy Vance is the slacker half of the author duo of Charity Tahmaseb and Darcy Vance. She didn’t start writing seriously until she was 40, and didn’t publish her first novel until she was 50. Even then, she needed a co-author to get the job done.

While Charity was busy slinging corn for Green Giant and jumping out of airplanes for the Army, Darcy was busy making out with boys and perfecting the art of the doodle. She only makes out with one boy now (her husband) but she still doodles wantonly.

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