Monday, October 21, 2013

Highlight: The Devil Wears Scrubs by Freida McFadden

18400112

Newly minted doctor Jane McGill is in hell.

Not literally, of course. But between her drug addict patients, sleepless nights on call, and battling wits with the sadistic yet charming Sexy Surgeon, Jane can’t imagine an afterlife much worse than her first month of medical internship at County Hospital.

And then there’s the devil herself: Jane’s senior resident Dr. Alyssa Morgan. When Alyssa becomes absolutely hell-bent on making her new interns pay tenfold for the deadly sin of incompetence, Jane starts to worry that she may not make it through the year with her soul or her sanity still intact.






Highlight: Sector by Harule Stokes

18209825

A murder has been committed in Westwood. Joseph Marshall, a newly graduated NextGen operative is sent to investigate the only suspect - one of the last remaining Fallen. Will he live long enough to solve the murder or die by the hands of one of the most powerful living weapons ever created? 

During the Great War, the Northern Alliance was losing ground to its southern neighbor, Keynosa. The Keynosians were a people whose entire society was built around the manipulation of plant life. Unable to stem the overwhelming power of the Keynosian’s greatest weapon, the empowered soldier, the North made a desperate gamble, to create their own empowered. Thousands of volunteers offered their lives to the experiment in a process called The Sacrifice. From those thousands who gave themselves for their country, only a few hundred emerged, changed. They became the Fingers of God, the world’s most powerful living weapons. With the war over, these heroes, having fought and killed for their country, could not maintain their grip on reality. The process that created them corroded their minds, and they were given the moniker of Fallen. Their legacy continues on in their children, the NextGen. 
Now more than 70 years after the war's end, the threat of the Keynosian remains. The progeny of the Fallen are tasked with securing a massive series of concentration camps called the Sectors. Constructed after the Great War, the Sectors hold the surviving Keynosian people and their living weapons, the empowered. With the Fallen lost, what can the Northern Alliance do to contain this threat? Their solution is the Peacemaker collar. A thin ring of metal, it gives a steady dose of a powerful drug that inhibits the potential of the empowered, but also rots the mind of the wearer. 

In a world where morality is thrown to the wayside for the sake of security and the only path you can take are the one’s provided to you, is there a place where a young man can rise above it all?

Harule Stokes

Growing up in Crown Heights, Brooklyn NY, Harule Stokes has seen his share of violence and drug abuse. But, armed with the knowledge of his elders, a faithful father and a strong spiritual base, Harule was able to make his way out of an assuredly dark existence and into a life of positive possibilities.
Today, married to his wonderful wife and supported by close friends, Harule is not only able to draw upon his past but to also add a new way of thinking that's both positive and uplifting. What you'll find in his work, is a wonderfully vibrant reflection of the beauty and tragedy of his youth that's current and needed for today's society.


Review: The Smart Way to Deal with Stupid People by David E. Silvey



The Smart Way to Deal with Stupid People


Stupid people? When this book arrived I thought great, everyone deals with stupid people all the time so this should provide some great insight.  The book is the classic business short on time, to the point of the topic, quick read in the spirit of FISH! and Who Moved My Cheese.  The problem with this book: it should never have been written.  Thankfully, Silvey did write it, have it published, and hopefully people read it.  Why? Silvey breaks down the false barriers and expectations that people place on others.  Silvey uses the classic example of the airline flight that gets delayed due to a storm.  Extremely inconvenient for the traveler however, this in not the fault of the gate agent.  Anyone who has spent any amount of time in an airport can relate a story of how some passenger is berating a gate agent due to a delay caused by something outside the control of the airline.  Silvey reminds us that to get what you want you need to treat people with compassion and respect. It is unfortunate that we need books of this nature to remind us how we should treat people. 
*4 stars


Saturday, October 19, 2013

Review: Blogger Girl by Meredith Schorr

18222584

What happens when your high school nemesis becomes the shining star in a universe you pretty much saved? Book blogger Kimberly Long is about to find out. 

A chick lit enthusiast since the first time she read Bridget Jones’s Diary, Kim, with her blog, "Pastel is the New Black," has worked tirelessly by night to keep the genre alive, and help squash the claim that "chick lit is dead" once and for all. Not bad for a woman who by day ekes out a meager living as a pretty, and pretty-much-nameless, legal secretary in a Manhattan law firm. 

While Kim's day job holds no passion for her, the handsome (and shaving challenged) associate down the hall is another story. Yet another story is that Hannah Marshak, one of her most hated high school classmates, has now popped onto the chick lit scene with a hot new book that's turning heads--and pages--across the land. It's also popped into Kim's inbox--for review. With their ten-year high school reunion drawing near, Kim's coming close to combustion over the hype about Hannah’s book. And as everyone around her seems to be moving on and up, she begins to question whether being a “blogger girl” makes the grade in her off-line life.


Book Excerpts

Blogger Girl
Chapter 1
I slid my mouse back and forth between 4 and 4.5 pink champagne flutes. I couldn’t decide if the book, Gladly Never After, was 4.5 flutes worthy. The ending was a bit abrupt and the hero was kind of obvious from the beginning. At the same time, it was certainly an engaging story, so much so that I took every available opportunity to turn on my Kindle to see what happened next, even while squatting on the toilet between beers at happy hour.
“Long!”
I saved a draft of my review and stood up. “Yes, Rob?” I walked into his large fish-bowl shaped office knowing he wasn’t going to come to me. “What’s up?”
Rob handed me two sheets of paper. “Can you scan this to Bartlett?”
Removing the papers from his hand, I said, “No problem. Should I include a message?”
He scratched his thick head of brown hair. “Nah. He’ll know what it is.”
Rob’s recent takeover of a high-profile litigation was definitely getting in the way of my blogging. I had four books scheduled for review in the next two weeks and had received several more on my Kindle from publishers and authors in the past couple of days. Then again, it was my day job as a legal secretary at a mid-sized New York City law firm that paid my $1800 rent, not my voluntary – albeit immensely more satisfying – side gig as a chick lit book reviewer/blogger.
“Also, send an email to the team about squad drinks around the corner at Banc CafĂ© at 5.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Who should I include in the email?”
Rob was now facing his computer and without bothering to turn around, he said, “The whole team, Lucy, David, Nicholas, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah.”
Rob probably didn’t actually say, “Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah” but that was all I heard after “Nicholas.” Ordinarily, I preferred the company of friends over the partners, associates and paralegals that made up Rob’s team, but I’d make an exception if Nicholas was going to be there. I took stock of my outfit, exhaling a sigh of relief that I was wearing a flattering low cut black top and form-fitting black skinny pants. I fingered my necklace, a platinum chain with an opal pendant that conveniently fell right in the line of my cleavage. “Sounds good. Uh, I forgot who else you mentioned after Nicholas.”Not that it matters.
Rob waved me away. “Just the team. The usuals. Add a sentence at the end about inviting anyone I forgot.”
“Gotcha.”
When I got back to my desk, I emailed the team about happy hour, casually adding Nicholas’ address somewhere in the middle. It was very short notice, but a) it was free drinks and b) Rob was the boss and by virtue of him being the boss, sufficient advance notice was not required. Once I confirmed that the email went through, I practically ran to the copy room to scan Rob’s documents and quickly emailed them to Bartlett. I glanced at my Movado watch, a gift from my parents for my 28th birthday earlier that year. It was 4:42.  After I grabbed my enormous leather pocketbook from the bottom drawer of my desk and told Rob I was stepping away, I headed to the bathroom and called Bridget.
She picked up after one ring. “Is everything okay?”
I ran a brush through my long light brown hair and shook my head from side to side to give it some bounce. “Why would you ask that? Because I called instead of texted?”
“Bingo!”
Bridget had been my best friend since the 7th grade. Text messaging often won out over actually talking on the phone, but it wasn’t like telephone conversations were reserved for emergency trips to the hospital or anything. I removed the pink monogrammed makeup case I’d had since junior high school from the bottom of my pocketbook. “Having drinks with the team tonight after work.”
“The team, huh? Does that include your work crush? What’s his name again?”
“Nicholas!”
Bridget snorted. “I know! Nicholas Strong,” she repeated. “Rhymes with Long. I remember.”
“Ha ha. Be nice.” Mentioning the rhyming of my last name with Nicholas’ wasn’t one of my proudest moments, but it was after two flirtinis, and two flirtinis for a 101 pound girl were like five flirtinis for an average sized woman.
“Well, have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Bridget said dryly. Gun shy after an uncharacteristic one-night-stand generously left her with a case of crabs, she hadn’t done anything with anyone in over a year.
“I’m not entirely certain he sees me as anything more than that ‘chick’ who occasionally connects him to Rob’s voicemail, but he’s serious eye candy. Chances are, we’ll exchange less than four words, I’ll end up extremely frustrated and regret going in the first place.”
“There you go, Ms. Positive! Good luck.”
“Thanks. See ya.” I hung up the phone and wiped the corners of my lips before applying a shiny but translucent gloss. I dusted a little powder over my nose trying unsuccessfully to hide the constellation of freckles that appeared at the tip. I zipped the case and returned it to my bag. I wished I knew how to apply dramatic makeup but every time I made an attempt, I looked like one of those freaky pageant kids.
When I returned to my desk, I noticed that Rob’s light was off. It was only 5:05. Someone needed a beer.
I opened my saved post to finish my review.
In closing, I would highly recommend Gladly Never After to all lovers of chick lit, particularly those who prefer books with more action/dialogue and less description/backstory.
Rating: 4.5 Champagne Flutes
I set my blog to post the review at 6 the next morning and logged off of my computer. At least I’d be fashionably late.
****
I spotted my crew immediately upon entering the dimly lit restaurant. They had taken over the left side of the semi-circular bar. I stood up as tall as my 4’’11’ frame allowed and approached the crowd. Although my eyes looked straight ahead towards Rob, always the center of attention at these events, I used my peripheral vision to confirm that Nicholas was in attendance. He was talking to Lucy, a junior associate in the group. Lucy was actually really nice, but her straight blonde hair was always pulled back into a tight bun and her daily attire consisted of stodgy business suits. She looked like a librarian and I couldn’t imagine Nicholas being interested in her as more than a colleague. On second thought, maybe Lucy is one of those stereotypical librarian types who’s kinky in the sack. I had often wondered if Nicholas had hooked up with any of the female associates in the office while pulling an all-nighter or after one of the many firm-hosted parties. As I glanced back at Lucy in jealous paranoia, I was surprised to catch Nicholas looking directly at me. Could he tell I was thinking about him? Bridget and I always said guys had radar.
“There she is. My right hand. What are you having?” Rob asked.
I tore my eyes away from Nicholas and focused my attention on Rob. “A glass of prosecco. Thanks.” I considered asking for a cocktail menu but wanted a drink in my hand too badly to spend the time considering my choices.
Rob raised one of his thick dark eyebrows and took a sip of his lager. “Beer isn’t good enough for you?”
“Not when the firm is paying.” I giggled.
Rob handed me my glass and I casually looked around. I caught Nicholas’ eye again and prepared this time, gave him a friendly wave.
“Hey you,” he said, smiling wide as his brown eyes darted down to my chest and quickly back to my face.
His appraisal of my rack, while subtle, was unmistakable. Not that a guy checking out a girl’s chest was an indication of actual interest. It was probably merely instinct for them, but I was still thrilled. I would be the first to admit that I drew attention to my chest since, being so short, I needed to give people a reason to look down far enough to see me. I raised my glass and smiled back. “Hey,” I said before turning back towards Rob. I wanted more than anything to go over and cock block his conversation with Lucy but I didn’t have the nerve. Checking out a girl’s cleavage was not necessarily an invitation for conversation.
“Did you send that email to Bartlett?” Rob asked.
Without batting an eyelash, I responded, “Did you ask me to?”
Rob offered a bemused smile. “TouchĂ©. I thought you might be too busy working on your blog to attend to such menial tasks like getting your work done.”
“When has my blog ever gotten in the way of attending to your business, Rob?” Rob loved to give me shit about my blog, but I knew he was joking. I had only worked with him at our current firm for four months, but had been his assistant at his previous one for close to two years. He had left our old firm more than six months earlier, leaving me behind with a promise to use his influence to get me hired as well. We worked well together. Although in his mid-fifties, Rob had the energy of a teenager and was extremely high-strung. I knew how to take him down a notch without threatening his authority.
“What blog?”
I felt a flush creep across my cheeks as I turned around to face the source of the question. I wasn’t surprised, since I blushed whenever I talked to Nicholas, even when the phone rang at work and I saw his name on my caller ID.
“You didn’t know about Kim’s blog?” Rob asked, his blue eyes reflecting amusement.
Nicholas shook his head, not removing his eyes from mine.
All I could think about was running my fingers along the dark stubble on his jawline. Never completely clean shaven, he currently looked like he hadn’t touched a razor in several days. I held his gaze willing my voice not to give away my crush, but the heat on my face suggested a crimson complexion that probably already had. “I have a blog where I write book reviews.” I figured Nicholas didn’t know about my blog since our opportunities to socialize outside of work had been few and far between in the four months we’d worked together. It was that unfamiliarity which I blamed for my chronic bashfulness in his presence. Well, that and his overwhelming sex appeal. Unable to maintain eye contact a second longer, I glanced back at Rob hoping he’d pick up the dialogue.
“It’s incredibly popular. Publishers actually beg my secretary to read and review their client’s novels on a daily basis.” Rob beamed at me like a proud uncle as if he was somehow responsible for my blog’s immense popularity.
I turned back to Nicholas and smiled shyly. “Every other day basis is probably more accurate but yes, it’s a widely read blog. I have several thousand followers and get requests from authors, publicists and agents pretty often.”
Nicholas looked at me with admiration. “Awesome. What types of books do you review?”
I hated this part of telling people from work about my blog. I never knew if the attorneys would raise their noses in the air and judge my taste in “literature.” Here goes nothing. “Chick lit,” I admitted.
Nicholas tilted his head to the side. “Like the gum?”
I giggled as if I’d never heard that one before. “Yes, it’s called chick lit, like the gum. But it’s also a book genre. Like Bridget Jones’s Diary,The Devil Wears Prada. You know?”
Nicholas looked thoughtful as he rubbed his thumb along his chin. “My ex-girlfriend had a bunch of books with pink covers. Were those chick lit?”
Forcing myself to stay focused instead of wondering what his ex-girlfriend was like, how long ago they broke up and why, I smiled and said, “Probably.” Although chick lit had certainly evolved beyond stereotypical pink covers, it wasn’t the time to go into defense-mode.
Nicholas smiled wide. “Very cool, Kim!” Glancing at his empty glass, he said, “Time for a refill. Be right back” and walked towards the bar.
I tore my eyes away from the back of Nicholas’ light blue business shirt and back to Rob. But Rob was now talking to Lucy about some guy she had deposed the previous day. Boring work talk. I downed the rest of my prosecco and walked over to the bar. After quickly getting the bartender’s attention, I ordered another glass, on Rob’s tab of course, and observed Nicholas finish sending a text. As he smiled into his phone, I felt my Hanky Panky thong practically melting off. At only about 5”7’, his stature might have kept him off of some women’s top five lists but since I was vertically challenged too, he was currently number one on mine. I couldn’t even think of who would follow him in second and third place.


Meredith Schorr

About Meredith

A born and bred New Yorker, Meredith Schorr discovered her passion for writing when she began to enjoy drafting work-related emails way more than she was probably supposed to, and was famous among her friends for writing witty birthday cards. After trying her hand writing children’s stories and blogging her personal experiences, Meredith found her calling writing “real” chick lit for real women.  When Meredith is not hard at work on her current work in progress, she spends her days as a trademark paralegal. Meredith is a loyal New York Yankees fan and an avid runner. Blogger Girl is her third novel.  check her out @ http://meredithschorr.com


This was just what I needed!!!!  Schorr writes characters that are those you can relate to, no mater if they are the lead or a secondary character...they are all great!  They are lovable with unique perspectives, which is so refreshing to read!  Schorr knows how to write an engaging story, that is not only hard to put down, but it is quality too!  4.5 stars!

BUY THE BOOKS!!!!






Highlight: Sapphire by Bryan Alaspa

18089196

Jimmy Parker is a typical high school student. Unpopular with the girls and picked on by the boys, he’s just trying to survive long enough to escape the tiny Pennsylvanian town of Knorr. With Jimmy and his friend, George, heading to the school dance, they expect nothing but the usual ritual humiliation from their peers. But when a girl in a brilliant blue dress enters their lives at the side of a lonely old bridge…everything changes.

Her name is Sapphire, and she is the most alluring girl that Jimmy has ever met. Yet, there is something strange about her; something different. Why has he never seen her at school? Why does she only want to meet up near the bridge? And why does everybody keep warning Jimmy to stay away from her?

Before long, Jimmy is plunged into a decades-old mystery. The town of Knorr has many secrets; some held by powerful men. Men that would do anything to keep them from getting out. Something dark happened one night in Knorr, and now Jimmy is a part of it whether he likes it or not.

And Sapphire holds the key to understanding it all.

Jimmy discovers that his bond with the mysterious girl creates a unique power between them. A power that bridges time, space, and even dimensions. It is the one thing that could save them both.

Because sometimes the most powerful force on Earth is love.
- See more at: http://bryanwalaspa.com/#sthash.pLKDa...

Bryan W. Alaspa
About the author:
I am a freelance writer and professional author of both fiction and non-fiction. I live in Chicago and I have lived here almost my entire life. I spent a few years living in St. Louis. I first began writing when I sat down and wrote a three -page story on my mom’s electric typewriter when I was in the third grade. It’s been all up-hill since then!

I have over 20 books in both fiction and non-fiction genres available. You can find most of them at Amazon.com. I even have a few books just for your Kindle and iPad users. Be sure to check them out. I write true crime, history, horror, thrillers, mysteries, detective stories and tales about the supernatural.

I write a lot of articles as well. I am also a blogger and have been for some time. I intend to use this blog to talk about my upcoming books as well as various author events I am involved in. Check back often and PLEASE, leave comments!


Friday, October 18, 2013

CLP blog tour: Killer Image by Wendy Tyson

Follow the tour HERE

Author Bio:
Wendy Tyson wrote her first story at age eight and it’s been love ever since.  When not writing, Wendy enjoys reading other people’s novels, traveling, hiking, and playing hooky at the beach–and if she can combine all four, even better.  Originally from the Philadelphia area, Wendy has returned to her roots and lives there again with her husband, three kids and two muses, dogs Molly and Driggs.  She and her husband are passionate organic gardeners and have turned their small urban lot into a micro farm.  Killer Image is Wendy’s first novel in the Allison Campbell mystery series. 

Wendy has also authored The Seduction of Miriam Cross, a mystery that will be released by E-Lit Books on November 1, 2013. 

Find Wendy at:

 www.WATyson.com and on twitter (www.twitter.com/wendytyson) and Facebook (www.facebook.com/wendytysonauthor). 


As Philadelphia's premier image consultant, Allison Campbell helps others reinvent themselves, but her most successful transformation was her own after a scandal nearly ruined her. Now she moves in a world of powerful executives, wealthy, eccentric ex-wives and twisted ethics.
When Allison's latest Main Line client, the fifteen-year-old Goth daughter of a White House hopeful, is accused of the ritualistic murder of a local divorce attorney, Allison fights to prove her client's innocence when no one else will. But unraveling the truth brings specters from her own past. And in a place where image is everything, the ability to distinguish what's real from the facade may be the only thing that keeps Allison alive.

KILLER IMAGE
Wendy Tyson
  
               
Details Matter

I was once a member of a writing group.  We met every Sunday at a beautiful house, ate delicious food, and then talked for hours, reading our material aloud and offering feedback on each other’s writing.

Interesting tidbit, perhaps, but do you feel like you were there?  Probably not.  How about:

I was once a member of a writing group that met every weekend at the house of a well-traveled editor.  Her hundred-year-old home was set in the woods by a creek, along a steep embankment, with a driveway so heavily canopied by weeping willows and oak trees that even on a sunny day you felt like you were in the bayou, somewhere dark and humid where magic happened.  Inside, treasures from Italy and France, Spain and the Orient splashed color against cool tile floors and white-washed plaster walls.  We’d curl up on Papasan chairs and eat pita bread dipped in thick, nutty hummus, Kalamata olives from Greece, and, in the summer, slices of Jersey-red tomatoes drizzled with a Balsamic so aged it poured like syrup.  Amy would start.  Her book, a coming-of-age novel about a twelve-year-old Native American girl, was our collective favorite, and tucked in those chairs with the sound of Amy’s soft voice reading her story aloud and the smells of a Mediterranean kitchen wafting from the coffee table, the world drifted away for the afternoon.  We were all in love with Sundays.

In the first example, you received the information I wanted to convey.  In the second example, you were able to experience it.

The best advice I ever received was from an editor-mentor years ago.  She told me to include details.  A few well-chosen, concrete details make a story come alive, she said.  To do otherwise is lazy writing.  It robs the reader of the experience.

Natalie Goldberg, of whom I am a huge fan, wrote in her book, Writing Down the Bones: “We are important and our lives are important, magnificent really, and their details are worthy to be recorded. This is how writers must think, this is how we must sit down with pen in hand. We were here; we are human beings; this is how we lived. Let it be known, the earth passed before us. Our details are important. Otherwise, if they are not, we can drop a bomb and it doesn't matter. . . Recording the details of our lives is a stance against bombs with their mass ability to kill, against too much speed and efficiency. A writer must say yes to life, to all of life: the water glasses, the Kemp's half-and-half, the ketchup on the counter. . . Our task is to say a holy yes to the real things of our life as they exist – the real truth of who we are: several pounds overweight, the gray, cold street outside, the Christmas tinsel in the showcase, the Jewish writer in the orange booth across from her blond friend who has black children. We must become writers who accept things as they are, come to love the details, and step forward with a yes on our lips so there can be no more noes in the world, noes that invalidate life and stop these details from continuing.”

Very powerful.  Very true.

I’ve tried to apply this advice to my own writing.  The interesting thing is that the closer I am to a character, the harder it is to do. That’s when it’s so tempting to be lazy.  I wrote a short story several years ago called “The Problem with Ugly.”  The story, published in Eclipse, A Literary Journal, was about a Chinese-American family dealing with a daughter/sister’s anorexia.  It was a difficult story to write, but I had more offers of publication for that story than I had ever had before (close to 10).  I think the reason the story struck a chord was not because I’m an expert on either Chinese culture or eating disorders (I’m not), but because I really had to dig in as a writer.  I had to get to know these unfamiliar characters and paint their lives on the page.  And to do that, I grounded the story in details.

Natalie Goldberg also says to keep your hand moving.  That’s my advice to beginning writers.  Keep your rear in the chair and your hand moving. 

And ground your writing in details.


BUY THE BOOK!





Thursday, October 17, 2013

Review: Baba Didi and the Godwits Fly by Nicola Muir, Annie Hayward (Illustrations), Helen Clark (Foreword)



17465622


Imagine. You're a bird, only fifteen inches long. You spend half the year on one side of the planet and then you fly to the other side for the rest. Round trip: eighteen thousand miles. On the way there you touch down in many different countries; you're just a passing visitor. And on the way back . . . there is nowhere to stop. Just ocean for seven thousand miles.

A story about two true fantastical flights; that of the godwits around and across the Pacific and a woman's emigration from Croatia to New Zealand.

A young girl and her grandmother, Baba Didi, are on a beach watching the godwits preparing to migrate. Talking about the birds's courageous journey across the Pacific resonates with generations of human migration, from the Maori reaching New Zealand to Baba Didi's journey from Croatia.

Illustrated with warmth and radiance this is an epic story told with charm. A tale of the resilience it takes "just to get there" when the going is rough and the road is long.

A portion of the money from the sale of each book will be donated to UNICEF.






This is an enchanting tale of  not only about the migration of the godwits, but also about a grandmother move from Croatia to New Zealand.  These parallel tales weave together beautifully.   It is not only beautifully illustrated, but it is rich in nature, history and valuable lessons.  I loved this quote from the book "Sometimes, if you stay in the same place doing the same thing, it will be the end of you."  This shows that one must be determine because sometimes things are very hard. We must be resilient.  We must never be defeated.  This is an amazing book for kids!  4 stars.




Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...