The Other Burdin (Will Scarlet’s Kiss & Tell)

“From the stage that brought you Will & Allyn’s Interactive Theatre,” Allyn-a-Dale proclaims before the curtain, “here’s Ever On Word’s original talk show, Will Scarlet’s Kiss & Tell.”

Danielle whipped up a logo for me, because she is awesome first class.

The curtain rises, the studio audience applauds, and Will Scarlet himself walks smiling and waving onto the bright, cozy set.

“Hullo, everyone! Let’s jump right into it, shall we?” Leading by example, he hops into his armchair. “Allyn, who is our guest character today?”

As the guest enters from the other side of the stage, Allyn says, “When asked to send a character over, author Alexander responded thus:

Let’s go with Hartnet. He could use a little love. Poor guy’s got it rough having Ty as a sibling.

“Welcome, Hartnet!” Will greets the man now seated in the chair across from his own. “So glad you could join me. First things first – where in the world do you get off having a studlier jaw than me? Like, seriously.”

Hartnet shifts in his chair, absentmindedly rubs a hand across a day’s worth of stubble on his jaw. “Good genetics, I guess,” he says with a small laugh.

“Hmmph. Well, anyway,” says Will, “subtly” re-angling his face to give the camera a better view of his bone structure. “Your brother Ty is the ‘retired’ demon hunter, and you’re the cop. But you’ve got some demon hunting experience, too, am I right?”

“I can definitely hold my own.” Hartnet sits up a little straighter. His jaw tenses. “Growing up in the greatest demon hunting family of all time, I definitely picked up a few tricks and survival habits. I even get to put them to use against bad guys from time to time. After dealing with an Azreal or even a Jinn, some punk hopped up on this or that isn’t so intimidating.”

Will nods. “Right. Totally. I have no idea what an Azreal is, but if it’s anything like an air spirit or a river siren, then I’m perfectly happy to leave it to the professionals. Moving away from business to your personal life, now, how would you describe your and Ty’s relationship? And how does it feel, knowing your little brother to be in constant danger of death by demons or alcohol poisoning or who knows what?”

“Ty’s a bit of a conceited jerk. He only thinks of himself and his own perspective, everyone else’s opinion doesn’t matter for much. He’s kind of the spoiled rock star, reality television show of the demon hunting world. Did I mention I’m adopted?”

“Don’t believe you did, no. But hey, the blood you chose is thicker than the water you’re born into, right? Family’s family, bros are bros?”

Hartnet stares off at the lights. He inspects the back of his hands for a moment. “Yeah, I mean, I’d give my life for Ty, but there are times I think he’d ask for it. That might be his problem. Maybe he’ll grow out of it.” Hartnet shifts a little more in his seat.

“Well, hey, buddy,” says Will, leaning over to pat Hartnet’s knee. “Here’s hoping he will. Now, one last question before we wrap up the interrogation, officer. Tell me, what is your author Alex’s biggest, deepest, darkest, most mortifying and/or hilarious secret?” He smiles devilishly. “Or would you rather kiss me?”

“Sorry, there, but I keep all my kisses for a special lady back home. She’s always got her mind on me. Anyway, if I were one to go around giving away secrets, everyone in the world would know that every night Ty sings ‘I Will Survive’ by Gloria Gaynor to help himself fall asleep. Oops…”

“Haha, does he really?”

Hartnet winks, stands up, and exits the stage.

“Looks like duty’s call won’t wait. Play him out with a word from our sponsor, won’t you, Allyn?”

“Today’s Kiss & Tell segment,” says Allyn, “was brought to you by Alexander Nader’s ‘Burdin’s End’:

Ty Burdin, the retired demon hunter who just can’t stay retired.

In the final installment of the Beasts of Burdin trilogy Ty has found himself roped into working for the Agency, a top secret organization with the sole purpose of eliminating all demon activity, yet again. Demon hunting is a full time job, but luckily Ty has managed to work his way down to a ‘consulting’ position in the Agency after a few disagreements and a couple dead superiors.

Ty’s part-time position becomes far more hands on as the demon activity in his region cranks up to eleven. Demons are crawling out of peoples’ minds and into the real world at an alarming rate and it’s up to Ty, once again, to step in and save the day. First step: get over last night’s hangover.

“As a bit of bonus material,” Allyn continues, “our author’s review of the book is as follows:

Gosh, some people’s attitudes are miserable. And not one healthful coping mechanism to be seen. Of course, narrators are rarely known for spreading sunshine and dishing up entertaining sass both at once. And if I can only have one or the other, odds are I’ll go with the sass.

Burdin's End

Despite his efforts to remain retired, Ty Burdin can’t seem to go more than twenty-four hours or so without hunting and/or being hunted by an unpredictable variety pack of demons. His small circle of loved ones (so… basically just his cop brother Hartnet and secretary/fictional biographer Nora) seem content to take Ty’s life at the beck and call of the Agency for granted, but Ty moans and drags his feet every step of the way. His unrelenting backtalk hurled at his boss Helstrom – or, in lieu of an audience, in his own head – made for some good out-loud chuckles (the man really does have a way with words, provided every third word or so can be a vulgarity), though his passive, self-destructive wallowing did start to get old, after a while.

Then I got about three-quarters of the way through the book, and I was just like, whoa. No. Holy cow, but no. I just want Ty to get up, shake himself off, and get his act together. Can I have that? Will Nader give me that? Or is he going to revel in this twisted turn of events like the evil author in me wouldn’t blame him for one bit?

If you think I’m about to spoil the answers to any of that, you’re one scotch bottle shy of a Burdin liquid lunch. In parting, I’ll say only that, 1) the ending went by a little quick for me; 2) it sounds like some positive change may be on the horizon for whoever survives this latest wave of deadly demon activity; and 3) um, no offense to Hartnet, but I may be Team Helstrom now. The guy’s in his own class.

“Thank you, Allyn – and Danielle,” Will says, then calls offstage, “Thanks to you as well, Hartnet. And thank you, my beautiful audience. Remember, authors – if your characters would like to appear on the show, simply follow the guidelines provided here, and we’ll get them on the schedule. ‘Til next time, lovelies: Scarlet out!”

Play at a Price (FORTE Blog Tour)

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Have you heard about Xchyler Publishing’s newest release? ^^ Well, yes or no, you haven’t heard it from Ever On Word yet, so settle in and have a look, ‘cause here’s what’s up:
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Forte_The BookForte_Author

www.jdspero.com

Facebook, Twitter: @jdspero, Goodreads

Forte_ReviewI got the opportunity to read this book early, and it was both an interesting and a frustrating experience for me.

Interesting, in part, because of the unique way the story incorporated some familiar figures from Greek mythology. In all my years of fascination in that area, I’ve never seen Hermes and Hephaestus portrayed quite like this, so that was an inventive spin. I also enjoyed the story’s location. Call me a sucker for a canal and creepy old houses in the mountains.

Frustrating, largely, because of the protagonist’s poor decision-making. I can perfectly understand loneliness and wishing to feel accepted. We’ve all been there. But I have little patience for those who think popularity is worth turning your back on your passions, blatant self-delusion, and either compromising your principles or going flatly against them. My number one thought for most of the novel was, “Sami, grow a spine!

By the finale, though, there was hope for her. Hope for a number of the characters with their own sets of flaws. The story closed on a high note, and overall, the book’s got atmosphere. I wager there’s an audience who can gain much benefit and pleasure “Forte”, particularly if they like a narrative permeated with athletics, or the arts – or, like Sami, desire the best of both.

Forte_Availability

Feel free to grab your copy today (Kindle or paperback), and/or enter the Rafflecopter giveaway!

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Official Event Page: https://www.facebook.com/events/569741183164962/

Blog Schedule:

Different Strokes (Will Scarlet’s Kiss & Tell)

“From the stage that brought you Will & Allyn’s Interactive Theatre,” Allyn-a-Dale proclaims before the curtain, “here’s Ever On Word’s original talk show, Will Scarlet’s Kiss & Tell.”

Danielle whipped up a logo for me, because she is awesome first class.

The curtain rises, the studio audience applauds, and Will Scarlet himself walks smiling and waving onto the bright, cozy set.

“Hullo, everyone! Let’s jump right into it, shall we?” Leading by example, he hops into his armchair. “Allyn, who is our guest character today?”

As the guest enters from the other side of the stage, Allyn says, “Author Mere Joyce describes Maddie Deacon thus:

A 16-year-old former artist who is now unable to participate in her craft due to the memories of being held captive by a painting madman. She used to be a very confident, passionate girl, but now she’s more reserved and sullen.

“Huh,” says Will, reflectively. “That sounds… Allyn, you want to take this one?”

Allyn’s head snaps up. “What?”

Will pops up to his feet. “Traumatized artist. That’s right up your alley. Here, we’ll switch. Take my place.”

“I… are you serious?” Allyn whispers.

“Dead,” Will confirms, hustling Allyn into the host seat.

“Um. Well. Hello,” a dazed Allyn addresses the girl now seated in the chair across from his own. “Welcome, Maddie. First things first, I suppose: Are you okay with,” – he gestures between himself and Will Scarlet, now off-camera – “all this?”

“Um…I-I guess.” *Glances off-stage to where her little sister and a boy her own age give her encouraging smiles, clearly suggesting they forced her into this* “I d-didn’t have much of a choice.”

“I know the feeling,” Allyn mutters. Redirecting his focus back Maddie’s may, his tone gentles. “Before we address the darkness you’ve dealt with, would you share one of your brightest memories from your days of freedom?”

*Jerks thumb at aforementioned boy* “Painting Wesley. H-he’s my…well, he used to be…my best friend. And once, I got to p-paint him. At night, outside, with his cello. The portrait turned out well. I-I even showcased it. At our school’s Art Showcase. It was…it was the piece I showed the night I was abducted.”

“Ah.” Allyn winces sympathetically. “Well, we’ll call that our segue and move on to more difficult matters. During your close to three years of captivity, to whom – apart from yourself and your captor – did your thoughts most often turn, and why?”

“Mostly, I thought about my parents, my sister Autumn, and Wesley. B-But I think I thought of my sister most of all. She’s thirteen now, the age I was when I was t-taken. In all my time away, the one thing I was g-grateful for was that it was me locked up, not her. She’s got an amazing spirit, and she’s just so…alive. I n-never want anything to change that.”

“Quite so,” Allyn nods as a great deal of wet sniffling sounds from off-camera. “Erm, don’t mind Will. He suffers from a tender heart, poor man. And while we’re yet on the subject of suffering: What is it that you miss the most about your art?”

“The rightness of it, if that makes any sense. Painting was once a n-need for me, and s-sometimes I think it still could be. When I find a subject I think I’d like to paint, my fingers itch, and my b-brain starts forming the picture whether I-I want it to or not. It’s like every nerve in my body is on edge, and…and the tension’s not released until the painting begins. It’s h-hard, not being able to l-let it t-take hold. It’s hard not being able to g-give in.”

“So I’d imagine,” says Allyn, his fingers twitching as if plucking invisible lute strings. “Suppose, for a moment, that I am you, at age thirteen. What would you most like to say to me?”

“Well, f-first I would tell you not to wear headphones when you’re walking alone at night. But, then I’d tell you to stop putting off the things you keep planning to someday accomplish. P-portraits you’ve promised to paint, p-people you’ve been meaning to spend more time with. There’s always a theoretical tomorrow, b-but not always an actual one. Do things now, not later. Do them while they’re still easy to d-do.”

“I love you, Allyn!” Will is heard to wail while he has the chance.

Allyn grimaces. “Yes, I know. And I you. But do try to keep it together for just a short moment more. I’ve the last question to go. Tell me, Maddie, what is your author’s biggest, deepest, darkest, most mortifying and/or hilarious secret?” He glances over his shoulder. “Or would you rather kiss the Scarlet wreck?”

*Glances at Will*

*Glances at Wesley*

“Um…I’ll stick with the s-secret. Well, actually, it’s s-sort of a secret, and s-sort of a proud moment in her life (depends on who is asking), but M-Mere permanently damaged her tailbone, and p-possibly broke it, while dancing to the Backstreet Boys…I-I don’t know how, but she claims it’s the fault of a music video? One where they’re d-dancing in a h-haunted castle or something? S-Sounds made up to me.” *Looks skeptically at Mere*

“‘Everybody (Backstreet’s Back)’!?” Will shouts, an emotional one-eighty rocketing him back into high spirits. “ALL RIGHT!”

Backstreet's Back gif

“Ahem,” Allyn coughs. “The word from our sponsor, please?”

“Right, that! Today’s Kiss & Tell segment,” says Will, “was brought to you by Mere Joyce’s young-adult novel releasing this very day, ‘Blank Canvas’ .

Blank Canvas

Three years ago, sixteen-year-old Maddie Deacon was abducted on her way home from her school’s Art Showcase. Five months ago, she escaped the madman she calls The Painter. Before being taken, painting was Maddie’s life. Now, it’s her nightmare.

Maddie wants to forget her years in captivity. She’d rather spend her time getting reacquainted with her parents and her sister, not to mention her cello-playing, beautiful boy next door and childhood best friend Wesley. But paint is everywhere, and tormenting shadows linger in every portrait she encounters.

When the yearly Art Showcase once again approaches, Maddie has the chance to win a scholarship and start planning a future far away from the horrors of her past. She knows she has to make a choice–confront her memories of The Painter and overcome her fear of the canvas, or give up painting forever.

“Thanks, Allyn, for playing host for a day,” says Will. “Thanks to you as well, Maddie. And thank you, my beautiful audience. Remember, authors – if your characters would like to appear on the show, simply follow the guidelines provided here, and we’ll get them on the schedule. ‘Til next time, lovelies: Scarlet out!”

<<<>>>

Release Day Bonus: An excerpt from “Blank Canvas” by Mere Joyce!

“Hello, Maddie,” Tim says, taking a sip from his Healing Expressions coffee cup. I’m glad he and Juliet call me Maddie instead of Madison, like Klara does. I’ve gone by Maddie since my days in preschool, and being called it here makes the office seem slightly less institutional.

Of course, it doesn’t make this moment any less awful.

“H-hi,” I stammer, my voice thin. My feet ache as I force them across the threshold. Tim prefers it if I close the door behind me, but I need to see my escape route. Shakily, I cross the room and sit on the bench along the wall of windows that look down over the parking lot. The cushions are soft, bright orange, and there are pink and green and blue throw pillows scattered along the seat. I grab the blue one, and hug it to my chest as I stare at the world on the free side of the glass panes.

It’s a strange sensation, watching the world like this. In elementary school, at recess, I would sit by the fences backing the neighborhood houses. With my head tilted into the cool fall or warm spring breeze, I would close my eyes and picture the people in those houses, people not working, people working from home, people driving the streets or watering their lawns or relaxing in front of the TV, while I remained stuck at school for another several hours. I have the same thoughts now as I gaze over the parking lot, far out to the park, the townhouse complex, and the streets beyond. So many people sleeping, reading, shopping––all while I’m here, trapped behind a wall of glass.

It helps to keep my back to the easel. Slowly, the panic of my arrival subsides, and I take full gulping breaths until I’ve settled into muted unease.

“How are you feeling today, Maddie?” Tim asks. He remains seated. I get antsy if his six-foot-three inch body looms over me.

“I’m fine,” I lie. I’m never fine. Not anymore. But declaring it is like stating the obvious.

“How’s school?” I can hear a smile in his voice. I like Tim’s voice, with its deep, quietly enthusiastic tone. I’m fairly certain I like Tim, too. Or, at least, I would, if the circumstances were different. If he didn’t have the task of prying, of guiding me into frigid, infested waters every time we meet.

“It’s fine,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.

Tim’s chair scrapes across the floor as he stands. I keep my eyes fixed on the parking lot outside. I’ve found Wesley’s tiny van, and I watch it intently.

Tim approaches, sits on the bench a ways off. “Did you read any papers this week?”

“No.” The tension I nearly shed on the ride over here is creeping back again. I hate therapy. I don’t understand how digging into every unpleasant crevice of my subconscious is supposed to make my life easier.

“How about the news? Did you watch any?” Tim asks, even though I’m already shaking my head.

“Y-You know I didn’t,” I reply, and Tim breathes out, the resulting sound just short of a sigh.

“How many times have you had to avoid his picture?” he asks, and I squeeze the pillow until my fingers are white.

“S-Seventy … S-Seventy-two,” I choke out.

It’s become a habit keeping track of the number of times I stop myself from seeing him. When I go to the drugstore and see the papers lined in a hideous row. When the news comes on, and reporters rehash what happened. In the beginning, it was far harder. There were articles all over, news stories, constant threats to my sanity. Five months on, most of my count comes from the personal attacks, the times I remember something, imagine something, and his face almost manages to push its way in.

“Good. An improvement on last week,” Tim says, the pleasing smoothness of his voice giving the achievement a more respectable air than it deserves. Last week there were seventy-eight occurrences. Having six fewer episodes means nothing, except Tim is trying to be as positive as possible.

Plus, there’s the phone call to consider. Last week might have been an improvement, but I’m certain my methods of diversion will fail to keep me from replaying the conversation I wasn’t supposed to hear this morning.

Mere Joyce

About the Author:

Mere Joyce lives in Ontario, Canada. As both a writer and a librarian, she understands the importance of reading, and the impact the right story can have. She is a member of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators, and holds a Masters of Library and Information Science from the University of Western Ontario.

When she’s not writing, reading, or recommending books, Mere likes to watch movies with her husband (she may be slightly obsessed with Alan Rickman), play games with her son, go for walks with her dog, and drink lots of earl grey tea with orange chocolate on the side.

Find Mere here: Blog / Twitter / Goodreads / Pinterest

The Artwork Formerly Known as “Pirates, Thieves, and Sadist Kings”

^ I don’t even kid you. That was the book’s working title.

Its premise had me at “multiple Londons”. The wait for my preordered copy had me in mild agony. The sound of the doorbell a floor below had me leaping out of bed at my nocturnal-at-the-time equivalent of 3am on the frantic hope that it meant the book’s delivery. (For context, I have been known to sleep through fire alarms.)

#NoFilter #ItsMagicYouKnow #NeverBelieveItsNotSo
#NoFilter #ItsMagicYouKnow #NeverBelieveItsNotSo

So, how did the actual reading experience line up with my months of self-generated hype?

The Book: “A Darker Shade of Magic (#1)” by V.E. Schwab.

Genre: Fantasy

Blurb: Kell is one of the last Travelers—magicians with a rare, coveted ability to travel between parallel universes—as such, he can choose where he lands.

There’s Grey London, dirty and boring, without any magic, ruled by a mad King George.

Then there’s Red London, where life and magic are revered, and the Maresh Dynasty presides over a flourishing empire.

White London, ruled by whoever has murdered their way to the throne—a place where people fight to control magic, and the magic fights back, draining the city to its very bones.

And once upon a time, there was Black London…but no one speaks of that now.

Officially, Kell is the Red Traveler, personal ambassador and adopted Prince of Red London, carrying the monthly correspondences between the royals of each London. Unofficially, Kell is a smuggler, servicing people willing to pay for even the smallest glimpses of a world they’ll never see—a dangerous hobby, and one that has set him up for accidental treason. Fleeing into Grey London, Kell runs afoul of Delilah Bard, a cut-purse with lofty aspirations, who first robs him, then saves him from a dangerous enemy, and then forces him to spirit her to another world for a proper adventure.

But perilous magic is afoot, and treachery lurks at every turn. To save all of the worlds, Kell and Lila will first need to stay alive—and that is proving trickier than they hoped.

My Thoughts: How will this end well?

With the story sucking me in, chapter by chapter, things going from fascinating to thrilling, to bad to worse, to author have mercy, everybody’s dying – with the characters (sometimes so fabulously attired that I could groan aloud with longing) getting into scrapes, tight corners, and downright ghastly situations every third or fourth step, and the stakes mounting up to take ominous shape – with the number of pages between me and the book’s back cover rapidly thinning down to nothing, every line dripping with blood and blackness and painful odds…

I start to wonder, will this end well? Can it?

But this is Victoria “V.E.” Schwab. I’ve taken this road with her before, albeit by way of a handful fewer Londons. I gave her my trust.

And she did not fail me.

In the name of all things magical, though, what does she have lined up for the sequel??

HSYRT? (Hey, Should You Read This?): Maybe you didn’t hear me. I said “multiple Londons”.

Such are my thoughts on the books. Have any of your own? Share below!

Happy [Belated] Book Birthday to THE ARTISANS!

This time last week, while the next Wilderhark Tales title was debuting its face, an entire BOOK went out into the world! …with me having been under the impression it wasn’t supposed to launch until today. Welp, no matter. Never too late to put the word out about a book! So ladies and gentleman, if you’d be so good as to direction your attention to…

Artisans, TheThe Book: “The Artisans” by Julie Reece.

Genre: YA Paranormal

Blurb: They say death can be beautiful. But after the death of her mother, seventeen-year-old Raven Weathersby gives up her dream of becoming a fashion designer, barely surviving life in the South Carolina lowlands.

To make ends meet, Raven works after school as a seamstress creating stunning works of fashion that often rival the great names of the day.

Instead of making things easier on the high school senior, her stepdad’s drinking leads to a run in with the highly reclusive heir to the Maddox family fortune, Gideon Maddox.

But Raven’s stepdad’s drying out and in no condition to attend the meeting with Maddox. So Raven volunteers to take his place and offers to repay the debt in order to keep the only father she’s ever known out of jail, or worse.

Gideon Maddox agrees, outlining an outrageous demand: Raven must live in his home for a year while she designs for Maddox Industries’ clothing line, signing over her creative rights.

Her handsome young captor is arrogant and infuriating to the nth degree, and Raven can’t imagine working for him, let alone sharing the same space for more than five minutes.

But nothing is ever as it seems. Is Gideon Maddox the monster the world believes him to be? And can he stand to let the young seamstress see him as he really is?

My Thoughts: **ARC received in exchange for an honest review**

Raven Weathersby has a good voice on her – smart and detailed, with a healthy amount of teen attitude in the mix. Particularly in a spin on a fairy tale where the Beauty trades in her freedom for confinement in the Beast’s castle, one could expect the book to take the road often traveled in young-adult books by isolating the heroine from any fleshed-out relationships beyond that between her and the male lead. To my pleasant surprise, however, a generous portion of Raven’s story includes interactions with a number of non-romantic loved ones – the alcoholic step-dad she’s burdened to care for, the duo of best friends who have her back throughout the arrangement with her captor, even her oversized cat. I appreciated this solid contribution to the rounding out of Raven’s character, which made her feel more authentic to me than her “beastly” counterpart, Gideon Maddox, for whom I had trouble getting past the shiny veneer to the heart within.

Augmenting the book’s fairytale component was a Southern Gothic ghost story, complete with eerie spirits ranging from pitiable to ghastly. Some of the scenes were so effectively horrific that I physically cringed and squirmed, for which I give props to the author despite my dislike for being too strongly crept-out. The ghost element added an intriguing layer and elevation of the stakes in a story which might otherwise have had more difficulty holding my interest for the length of the novel. And the mystery that arose regarding Raven’s origins, left partially unexplained at book’s end, has me curious to know what’s coming in the projected sequel.

HSYRT? (Hey, Should You Read This?): If you’ve got a taste for a spooky, contemporary take on a fairytale favorite, you may find “The Artisans” to be tailor-made for you.

“Never Never” Say Never!

As stated at the beginning of the year, my general intention for this blog’s schedule is to post only twice a week. But of course, my general motto for my 26th year of life is “I do what I want”, meaning I’m wide open to spontaneity. So when I came across a call for bloggers interested in joining a cover reveal for an upcoming Peter Pan retelling, I figured why not offer to join in? I’m as fascinated by Pan as the next child averse to growing up!

All that to say, you’ve got an extra blog post coming to you today, Ever On Wordians! And here’s the main event:

NeverNeverFinal

James Hook is a child who only wants to grow up.

When he meets Peter Pan, a boy who loves to pretend and is intent on never becoming a man, James decides he could try being a child—at least briefly. James joins Peter Pan on a holiday to Neverland, a place of adventure created by children’s dreams, but Neverland is not for the faint of heart. Soon James finds himself longing for home, determined that he is destined to be a man. But Peter refuses to take him back, leaving James trapped in a world just beyond the one he loves. A world where children are to never grow up.

But grow up he does.

And thus begins the epic adventure of a Lost Boy and a Pirate.

This story isn’t about Peter Pan; it’s about the boy whose life he stole. It’s about a man in a world that hates men. It’s about the feared Captain James Hook and his passionate quest to kill the Pan, an impossible feat in a magical land where everyone loves Peter Pan.

Except one.

Title: Never Never
Author: Brianna Shrum
Release Date: September 2015
Publisher: Spencer Hill Press

Feeling Hooked*? Add “Never Never” on Goodreads!

*(Hey, I made it all the way through my “Toll of Another Bell” review post without a single bell pun. I think I’ve earned the use of one lame joke.)

Brianna Shrum

And now, a bit about the author that I’ve “never never” met, but wish all the best with her coming novel. ^_^

Author Bio:

Brianna Shrum lives in Colorado with her high-school-sweetheart-turned-husband, two boys, and two big, floppy hound dogs. She thinks chai tea is proof of magic in the world, and loves all things kissy, magical, and strange. She’d totally love to connect with you. You can find her saying ridiculous things on Twitter @briannashrum

What say you, readers? Think this looks like a book you’d enjoy? ^^