Saturday, October 25, 2014

Highlight: Lizzy and Jane by Katherine Reay


Lizzy and Jane never saw eye to eye. But when illness brings them together, they discover they may be more like Austen’s famous sisters after all.

Lizzy was only a teenager when her mother died of cancer. Shortly after, Lizzy fled from her home, her family, and her cherished nickname. After working tirelessly to hone her gift of creating magic in the kitchen, Elizabeth has climbed the culinary ladder to become the head chef of her own New York restaurant, Feast. But as her magic begins to elude her, Paul, Feast’s financial backer, brings in someone to share her responsibilities and her kitchen. So Elizabeth flees again.

In a desperate attempt to reconnect with her gift, Elizabeth returns home. But her plans are derailed when she learns that her estranged sister, Jane, is battling cancer. Elizabeth surprises everyone—including herself—when she decides to stay in Seattle and work to prepare healthy, sustaining meals for Jane as she undergoes chemotherapy. She also meets Nick and his winsome son, Matt, who, like Elizabeth, are trying to heal from the wounds of the past.

As she tends to Jane's needs, Elizabeth's powers begin to return to her, along with the family she left behind so long ago. Then Paul tries to entice her back to New York, and she is faced with a hard decision: stay and become Lizzy to her sister’s Jane, or return to New York and the life she worked so hard to create?

Katherine Reay

Katherine Reay has lived all across the country and Europe and has just moved with her family to Chicago. She is a writer, wife, mom, runner, and, most randomly, a tae kwon do black belt. Her debut novel "Dear Mr. Knightley" (ThomasNelson/HarperCollins) was be released last November. It is a contemporary story with a dash of Jane Austen and other nineteenth century writers thrown in for the fun of it. Her newest novel, Lizzy & Jane, released October 2014.

Friday, October 24, 2014

Review: The Lodger: A Novel by Louisa Treger


The first biographical novel about Dorothy Richardson, peer of Virginia Woolf, lover of H.G. Wells, and central figure in the emergence of modernist fiction

Dorothy exists just above the poverty line, doing secretarial work at a dentist's surgery and living in a seedy boarding house in Bloomsbury, when she is invited to spend the weekend with a childhood friend. Jane recently married a writer who is hovering on the brink of fame. His name is H.G. Wells, or Bertie as he is known to friends.

Bertie appears unremarkable at first. But then Dorothy notices his grey-blue eyes taking her in, openly signalling approval. He tells her he and Jane have an agreement which allows them the freedom to take lovers, although Dorothy is not convinced her friend is happy with this arrangement.

Not wanting to betray Jane, yet unable to draw back, Dorothy free-falls into an affair with Bertie. Then a new boarder arrives at the house—striking unconventional Veronica Leslie-Jones, determined to live life on her own terms—and Dorothy finds herself caught between Veronica and Bertie. Amidst the personal dramas and wreckage of the militant suffragette movement, Dorothy finds her voice as a writer.

The Lodger is a beautifully intimate novel that is at once an introduction to one of the most important writers of the 20th century and a compelling story of one woman tormented by unconventional desires.

Louisa Treger

Born in London, Louisa Treger began her career as a classical violinist. She studied at the Royal College of Music and the Guildhall School of Music, and worked as a freelance orchestral player and teacher.

Louisa subsequently turned to literature, gaining a First Class degree and a PhD in English at University College London, where she focused on early twentieth century women’s writing.

Married with three children, she lives in London.

I love when debut authors get their first book right. Set in early 20th-century London, The Lodger tells the story of Dorothy Richardson. Louisa Treger’s novel follows the story of Dorothy during her time at a lodging house in London. It's a powerful story.  It is quite fascinating, well written and the characters are both vibrant and believable.  Historical novels can either be a hit or a miss in my book.  I felt like The Lodger was a hit!  I feel like this is has the makings of a great book club pick.  4 stars.

Highlight: Outrageous Optimist by Lyne Noella, Sylvie Snyder


Outrageous Optimist is the story of family, friendship, romance, failure and fresh starts. Lisette Latour shutters her San Francisco marketing agency and returns to Playa Tiempo to regroup after over-investing in Silicon Valley startups. While applying for work, Lisette discovers that her San Diego County hometown has blossomed in her absence, with citizens as creative and unorthodox as those she left behind in San Francisco. An exploding microbrewery scene, a handsome but elusive attorney, clean skies and intrigue beguile Lisette, making it difficult to choose between family and friends in Playa Tiempo and the opportunities and lifestyle of the big city.

Thursday, October 23, 2014

C.A. Gray Highlight: Piercing the Veil

Title: Impossible (Piercing the Veil #3)
Genre: YA, Science Fiction & Fantasy
Release Date: October 15, 2014
Publisher: Wanderlust Publishing
Pages: 303

The Shadow Lord has the Philosopher’s Stone, and therefore an army of invincible penumbra. He also possesses the fragments of Excalibur, the legendary sword prophesied to be the instrument of either his own destruction, or that of the Child of the Prophecy. The sword, he knows, requires blood to be reforged… and he knows exactly whose blood he wants. 

Meanwhile, the Watchers are desperate to steal back the fragments of Excalibur and find out how to reforge them before the Shadow Lord does. Isdemus places Peter and Lily in Carlion’s sister cities for safe-keeping until the war begins. But Peter and Lily have an idea that might enable the Watchers to steal back the fragments, in spite of the Shadow Lord’s invincible army. Their plan requires them to travel halfway across the world, to an island largely believed to exist only in Greek mythology. Along the way, however, the Shadow Lord uses a pawn to convince Peter and Lily that they are powerless. Without their gifts of the Ancient Tongue, will either one of them stand a chance?

In this gripping conclusion of the Piercing the Veil trilogy, the Watchers and the Shadow Lord both amass their ranks, the battle begins, and the true identity of the Child of the Prophecy is revealed—to the shock of all.


C.A. Gray is a Naturopathic Medical Doctor (NMD), with a primary care practice in Tucson, Arizona.  She has always been captivated by the power of a good story, fictional or otherwise, which is probably why she loves holistic medicine: a patient’s physical health is invariably intertwined with his or her life story, and she believes that the one can only be understood in context with the other.
She still wants to be everything when she grows up. She moonlights as a college chemistry teachers (she has a degree in biochemistry, with minors in Spanish and Creative Writing), does theater when she gets the chance, sings, plays piano, was once a personal trainer and in coffee shop management. She is blessed with exceptionally supportive family and friends, and thanks God for them every single day!
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Thursday, October 9, 2014

Showcase with book excerpt and Q&A: The Dog Park by Laura Caldwell


By Laura Caldwell

It takes more than a goldendoodle to save a marriage. And stylist Jessica Champlin knows it. She and her ex-husband, investigative journalist Sebastian Hess had too many irreconcilable differences for even their beloved dog Baxter to heal. So they agreed  to joint custody and their lives settled into a prickly normalcy. But when Baxter heroically rescues a child and the video goes viral, Jessica and Sebastian are thrown together again, and her life takes some unexpected twists. Suddenly she's in the spotlight with everyone watching—the press, the new guy she's seeing, Sebastian and the past she never imagined she would face again. Soon there is only one person by her side – and it is the person Jessica least expected. She is willing to open up to as new normal…just as long as Baxter approves.

Laura CaldwellLaura Caldwell has established herself as a force to be reckoned with. Born in Chicago, Laura attended University of Iowa and Loyola Law School. After a year or so of practicing law, she started to feel a lack of creativity in her life - and began to write. After a few years, she took an extended sabbatical to focus on her writing. Since her debut in 2002, Laura has written mysteries, legal thrillers, women’s fiction, and non-fiction. In 2005, Laura returned to practicing law to defend a young man charged with murder. This case inspired her to start Life After Innocence Project at Loyola University Chicago School of Law and also became the subject of Laura’s first work of non-fiction, LONG WAY HOME (2009). Laura is currently a Distinguished Scholar in Residence at Loyola University Chicago School of Law. 

by Laura Caldwell

“Jess, enough with this, okay?” Sebastian said in a weary-trending-toward-cranky tone. He held out a small bag that read Neiman Marcus. My divorced mind ruffled through a few statements and questions — What is it? He never used to shop at Neiman Marcus. Judging by the size of the bag it would have to be an accessory. Jewelry? For me?

But the tone of my ex-husband’s voice had pretty much eliminated the possibility that it was a gift. Also, Sebastian hadn’t bought me jewelry in a long while, and except for my engagement ring, Sebastian never bought jewelry in the United States. Always it was when he was overseas, on a story. Like the beaded chandelier earrings from a country in Africa I’d never heard of and the vintage Iraqi headdress that I wear as a necklace.

Baxter — our blond, fluffy dog — was in my arms. I kissed him on the head. “I missed you, Baxy,” I said. “I missed you so much.”

He licked my chin, and his butt squirmed as he wagged his tail. Baxy’s fifteen pounds of dog against my chest was the most comforting weight in the world to me. When I finally put him down, he tore into my bedroom where he had toys stashed under a chaise lounge, which he hadn’t seen in a week while Sebastian had him.

As Baxter rounded the corner, I looked in the bag. I laughed.

“It’s not that funny,” Sebastian said.

“Oh, c’mon.” I lifted from the bag Baxter’s blue collar and leash that I had sewn gold stars onto — stars that had come from an old Halloween costume of Sebastian’s.

The party had been Harry Potter-themed, and as much as Sebastian would normally have dismissed it as ridiculous, it had been hosted by a journalist he had always emulated. And so Sebastian had been a wizard, dressed in a purple robe with stars and a pointed hat. It’s not that he hadn’t pulled it off, I just liked to needle him when I could. I also liked the idea of a guys’ guy like Sebastian having to walk around with a dog in bedazzled gear. Or maybe I hoped the goofy collar could lessen the pain of our weekly exchange — Here’s the dog back. It’s your turn to take care of this thing we both love like a kid, the dog we got when we were trying to keep our marriage intact.

“I mean, why would you even spend your time doing something like that?” Sebastian asked.

“You know that’s what I do, right?” I said. “I’m a stylist. I style.”

Sebastian said nothing.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” I said. “It’s not like you ever took my job seriously.”

“Jesus, Jess, that’s not true. Why do you say that?”

“I’m a stylist. You’re a journalist. You’re the legit one.”

“You’re saying that. Not me. I never said that.” Sebastian scoffed and shook his head.

Here we were again — in the ruts of a much-treaded argument.

He pointed at the bag. “That stuff is not what you do with your styling business anyway. You dress people.”

“Do you even know what that means?”

Why did I do this? What made me want to bug him, to try and draw him into this crap?
Because it’s all you have left.

That was the thought that answered me, and it rang like a bell, a few loud chimes. Then the sound died into the distance, drifting away, just like we had done.

The strong muscles of Sebastian’s jaw tensed, clenched. He ran a hand over his curly brown hair that was cut extra short for the summer. “Of course I know what that means. To an extent.”

In total, Sebastian and I had known each other for seven years — five of them married, the last of them divorced — and yet we still didn’t have a handle on what the other did for a living. Sebastian deliberately withheld, and so I guess I did it, too, in retribution.

“Look, Jess—” Sebastian fake-smiled “—we’re talking about the collar, right?”

I looked in the bag. “The collar and the leash.” I picked them up and jangled them together for effect.

“First of all, look at those.” Another shake of his head. “Baxter is a boy. Hell, he’s three years old. Bax is a man now.”

At the sound of his name, Baxter tore into the kitchen and dropped a white rubber ball at our feet, his tail thumping. Throw it for me, I could hear him thinking. C’mon, throw it for me.

Like a true child of divorce, Baxter always seemed to know when to deflect the situation.

I picked up the ball and threw it down the hall. He scampered after it, sliding a little on the hardwood floors.

“He’s a man who likes this collar and leash,” I said, lifting the bag a little.

“How do you know he likes it?”

“He prances around.”

“Baxy does not prance,” Sebastian said.

“You know he does.”

I both hated and loved the familiar feel of the conversation, the verbal poking at one another.

“He’s a fifteen-pound prancing machine,” I added, another jab.

“He only prances,” Sebastian pointed out, “when he’s really happy.”

“Exactly. And he prances when he’s wearing that collar. Point made.”

Sebastian just looked at me.

“Anyway…” I said, then let my words die.

“Anyway,” he repeated.

A beat went by. Baxter ran into the kitchen again, dropped the ball. He was a mini goldendoodle — a mix of golden retriever and poodle — and the golden part must have had strong genes because the dog would retrieve all day if we let him.

Sebastian lifted the ball, tossed it again.

“Baxter brought something else back,” he said, pointing at the bag.

I looked inside again. A white plastic bag was folded over and lay at the bottom. I picked it up and lifted a cellophane bag from inside. “Rawhide,” I read from the package. “Huh.” I looked at it — half-eaten. I looked back up at Sebastian. “Did you feed him this while he was with you?”

Sebastian raised his eyebrows, gave a slight smile.

That mouth, with its fuller bottom lip. It still got me sometimes. There was the rest of Sebastian, too — the strong body, wide shoulders and long arms that felt so good wrapped around me. But it was that lip most of all that used to get me. I ignored it, looked instead somewhere in the area of his forehead.

“You know that’s like giving your kid a bowl of taffy?” I said. “It’s completely unhealthy.”

“He’s got to eat more than raw chicken and raw eggs,” Sebastian said.

“That was one week that I did that!” I said. “One week.”

I’d been led by our dog trainer to give Baxter a raw diet, lured by the promises of a glossy coat and exceptional health. But when you have your dog every other week, raw foods are hard to keep around all the time. (And kind of unpleasant to serve.)

Sebastian sighed a little and searched my eyes with his. But then he opened his mouth. “I’m on my way to the airport.”

Wounds, no longer old, felt jabbed, hurt again. Sebastian was a war correspondent, one of the most well respected. His job had long been our sticking point — his need to go overseas, and his agreeing to not tell anyone, including his spouse, where he was headed. I knew military spouses had to deal with that, but I hadn’t married military, and I hadn’t realized the extent of his investigative writing — the embedding with the troops, the being in the middle of the action.

So he was off once more. I knew better than to ask where he was going.

But apparently he felt some kind of duty to try and make nice. “It’s a small conflict.”

A “small conflict” could mean a bloody, ruthless battle in a small Middle Eastern territory. But “small conflict” did not mean small casualties. Sebastian himself had returned from a “small conflict” with a gash across his collarbone that looked a lot like someone had tried to cut his throat. He still hadn’t told me what had happened.

I still didn’t know where he’d been because the newspaper never published his piece for whatever reason.

Baxter ran back into the foyer, a blue earthworm toy hanging from his mouth.

“C’mere, Dogger,” Sebastian said. His own nickname for Baxter. He picked him up. “I suppose you’re going to the dog park now?” he asked me. I thought I heard another small sigh.

“You know that you can still go to the dog park, right? I didn’t get that in the divorce.” I paused, made my voice kinder. “I don’t know why you don’t go when he’s with you.”

Sebastian shrugged, petted Baxter. “I thought I would find a park by my neighborhood. But they’re not the same. He doesn’t have his buddies.”

I stayed silent. Even when we were together, I was the one, more than Sebastian, who took Bax to the park. And even when Sebastian did, he didn’t often talk to the owners of Baxter’s dog buddies, like I did. Sebastian was intent on quality time with the dog, throwing Baxy’s ball over and over, then having him sit and stay for minutes on end before he could retrieve it. He taught Baxter tricks that his father had taught their family golden retrievers over the years. We got the dog shortly after his dad died.

So it seemed obvious to me that Sebastian could continue to do those things in another park. I hadn’t expected him to miss the park that we went to, as he apparently did. But I guess change is tough for everyone, even a tough guy like Sebastian.

He stood. “I should go.”

I knew better than to ask when he’d return, because I knew the answer. When I have the story. That’s what he always said.

I used to think, Why aren’t we your story? I want to be your story.

We had made a plan — move from New York, where we were living at the time, to Chicago (his hometown) where he would work as a regular journalist. It “worked” for a little while. A year or so. But ultimately Sebastian couldn’t stop. He couldn’t explain why, but he had to be the correspondent who crossed enemy lines in the middle of the night. I encouraged him to let me in. Keep the job, I’d said. I’d get used to worrying about him, I’d told him. That was okay. But bring me into the fold, tell me what you do, what you feel when you’re there, how I can support you when you’re here.

He decided that it would be breaking confidences and so he couldn’t tell me — not about the stories he was covering, where he was covering them or who he was covering them with. I could read the pieces in the paper, usually a day or two ahead of everyone else. So I would know then, for example, that he’d been in Afghanistan, embedded with a Navy SEAL team that took out a top-level terrorist. I would also read the byline and see that he sometimes had cowriters. But he couldn’t fill in any blanks. He couldn’t answer questions. And if the story had been killed and never published, he couldn’t give me any clues. Or he wouldn’t. Same thing.

His inability showed me the gaps in our relationship. I had to decide if I could live with the not knowing, the having to make a leap of faith to trust him, when the fact was I knew little about how my husband spent his professional life. And, therefore, much of his life.

I decided I couldn’t do that. Or maybe I just couldn’t live with the disappointment of not having the kind of love I wanted. I’d thought that with Sebastian I’d had the kind of love my parents had, the kind I’d felt once before. But neither turned out to be true. And eventually, with Sebastian, the ball I’d been pushing uphill for so long started to roll back over me.

Now I looked at Sebastian, said nothing, just stared into his eyes, and some bigger strength kicked in. I was past that, I told myself. I was way past it, and I was past him.

I’d started my life over once before. And under much, much, much worse circumstances. I knew I could do it again. I could survive.

Neither of us said anything. But I felt a joint sense of tiredness. We’re done.

“Okay,” I said, just to say something.

When Sebastian didn’t reply, the moment of pause gave me time to make a decision. I decided then I wasn’t just going to survive. I was going to thrive. I was going to come alive.

Right now. Those words intoned through me.

And suddenly it seemed clear what I had to do right then, how I had to conduct myself going forward. There would be no more seeing life as an endurance exercise. No more considering dates just because a software program told me I should. I wouldn’t just react to Sebastian or the lack of him. I would stop seeing everything as a reminder of the lives past. I would open my eyes and see things differently.

I would be different.

“Have a good trip,” I said, and I opened the door.

Excerpted from the book THE DOG PARK by Laura Caldwell.  Copyright © 2014 by Story Avenue, LLC.  Reprinted with permission of Harlequin.  All rights reserved.

Describe your latest book in 15 words or less.

THE DOG PARK is about a couple who shares joint custody of their dog who becomes suddenly famous when a video of him goes viral.

What inspired you to write THE DOG PARK?

I’d been writing mysteries and thrillers for a while, including six books featuring my series character, Izzy McNeil. I had one book left in my contract and started plotting the seventh. At the time, I had just gotten my puppy, Shafer, and was head over heels. My publishers pointed out that my social media posts and photos had gone from books and mysteries to dogs and dogs and dogs. And they had an idea — why not write a novel involving a dog? A great beach book, something fast-moving and a little sexy. And maybe, just maybe, a happy ending. I was in.

In THE DOG PARK, we meet Baxter, a loving and lovable goldendoodle. Is there a real-life Baxter? Who were the doggie models for Baxter?

My dog, Shafer, was a typical goldendoodle puppy — adorable and friendly. And she was a big walker, so we walked all over the city, good weather or bad. (I live in Chicago and so Shafer, like the rest of us, had to wear boots and eight layers and complain as little as possible.) Shafer met people everywhere. And after she started spending a few days a week with a well-known dog walker, she started to know people on the street I’d never met. I wondered what it would be like if Shafer herself became really well-known. Say from a video or something. Baxter from THE DOG PARK was formed.

Jessica Champlin seems fond of adorning Baxter in flashy accessories. How does your furry friend feel about such snazzy duds?

Shafer seems to feel good about sparkly collars but put her in a coat and gives me about 20 minutes.

What are you doing to reach out to readers and dog enthusiasts?

Every book signing has been dog-friendly and encouraging. We had them at pet stores and boutiques that allow dogs. We gave part of the proceeds to rescues and I did a promotion at a PAWS 5K run.

If you could compare your dog to any celebrity, living or dead, who would it be and why?

Shafer is her own celebrity! She knows she should update her Twitter page more often. But she makes people happy wherever she goes. She loves to work a crowd at the beach.

Why did you choose to make a dog the central character of the novel?

We wanted THE DOG PARK to be entertaining and fun, but my publisher really wanted a book with strong characters and strong relationships. Shortly into the book, I realized that Baxter, the dog whom I’d seen as more of a sub character (albeit one who drives much of the action), was definitely much more. Just like a lot of our pets, Baxter is a creature with his own personality. His own preferences and tastes and quirks.

What do you read for pleasure?

Right now I'm reading The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt. I started it a few times and put it down. Now that I’m into it, I look forward to reading it all day. That’s one of my favorite feelings in the world. I’m also looking forward to reading The Fortune Hunter by Daisy Goodwin.

What do you hope readers will take away from the book?

Overlaying all of the book is the profound, and yet often profoundly different, relationship that each different person has with their dog. There’s also the fact that social media has changed everything. It’s thrilling, but a little jarring and scary, to think that a person can be unknown at breakfast and trending on the news that night.

What was most difficult about writing THE DOG PARK?

Reliving when Shafer was hit by a car. But it was cathartic.

What’s next for you? Are you working on anything new?

Anatomy of Innocence, an anthology pairing thriller writers with exonerees to tell the story of how wrongful convictions happen.

How was writing THE DOG PARK, a contemporary romance, different from your previous mystery and thriller work?

I couldn't help but have long-buried secrets revealed. You never get the mystery writer out of your blood.

What was your favorite scene in THE DOG PARK?

I love the first scene – the post-divorce banter, the love of the dog.

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

#Giveaway and Review: Mercy (Beartooth, Montana #5) by B.J. Daniels


The hunt for a killer leads to a battle between justice and desire… 

For U.S. marshal Rourke Kincaid, there's the law…and then there's his law. When the two don't agree, he always trusts his instincts. A killing spree has gripped the Northwest, showing a strange connection that only he sees, and now the old rules of justice no longer apply. Forced to turn rogue, he goes deep undercover to track his mysterious female suspect to a quiet, unassuming cafĂ© in the wild, isolated mountains of Beartooth, Montana. 

But encountering Callie Westfield complicates his mission in ways he never expected. As suspicious as she seems, her fragile beauty and sexy charm get to Rourke. Then the gory crimes begin anew. With his heart suddenly at war with his instincts, he has only two options. Either turn Callie over to the law, or put everything—including his badge and his life—on the line to protect her.

Mercy by B. J. Daniels

I love B. J. Daniels, she rocks as an author.  In her latest book, we have a serial killer loose who is killing men.  Rourke Kincaid is out to get is man - but is it a man ???  You have to read this book to find out the who done it.  It is full of twists and turns and keeps you on the edge of your seat through the entire book.  It is set in beautiful Montana.  I absolutely loved this book.  It has mystery, romance and suspense. 
 I give it 4 stars.

B.J. Daniels

B.J. Daniels' life dream was to be a policewoman. After a career as an award-winning newspaper journalist, she wrote and sold 37 short stories before she finally wrote her first book. Since then she has won numerous awards including a career achievement award last year for romantic suspense.

She lives in Montana with her husband, Parker, two Springer Spaniels, Jem and Spot, and a temperamental tomcat named Jeff. When she isn't writing, she snowboards, camps, boats and plays tennis.

Can't wait to see if you won???  Buy the book below!

Highlight: Famous Phonies: Legends, Fakes, and Frauds Who Changed History (The Changed History Series) by Brianna DuMon


The world's earth-shattering, history-changing movers and shakers are all well documented . . . right? Hardly! Take Homer, the author of The Iliad and The Odyssey. His famous epics have inspired generations of writers and launched Western literature as we know it. Only problem, he never existed. No author named Homer ever traveled ancient Greece penning those really long stories about gods and heroes. So, who did author the books?

Other famous historical figures did exist, just not as you'd think. A man named Confucius really did live and breathe. But he wasn’t the wise old sage we learn about today. Instead of dropping quotable bits of wisdom, he preferred whacking people over the head with his stick. In the Middle Ages, an invented king inspired crusades, and in the 18th Century, a fake robot helped ignite the digital revolution. History is loaded with illusory figures that have left their mark on our world.

Faux Figures: Legends, Fakes, and Phonies Who Changed History is the first in a new nonfiction middle grade series that will explore the underbelly of history, making you question everything you thought you knew about history’s finest. It’s perfect for the history buff, the reluctant reader, or that kid who loves the strange and unusual. And who doesn’t? 

Famous “Fakes”:
The Yellow Emperor * Gilgamesh * Homer * Pythagoras * Confucius * Mary Magdalene * Hiawatha * Prester John * William Shakespeare * George Washington * The Turk * Major William Martin

Brianna DuMont

I'm a self-proclaimed history buff with a degree in Art History and Archaeology as well as Classics. I'm always traveling in search of great museums and historical sites to visit. When I'm home, I'm an independent historian and full-time writer and quickly becoming best friends with my local librarian. My middle grade nonfiction series, The Changed History Series, debuts in October revealing the underbelly of history!


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