Tuesday, September 30, 2014

BOOK TO LOVE: Someone Like You by Karen Rock

C:\Users\Majanka\SkyDrive\Book Tours\Upcoming Tours\Someone Like You\someonelikeyoubanner.jpg
ANOTHER Book to Love!
Title: Someone Like YouC:\Users\Majanka\SkyDrive\Book Tours\Upcoming Tours\Someone Like You\Someone Like You.png
Author: Karen Rock
Genre: Contemporary, Sweet Romance
You can't program love…or can you? 
Kayleigh Renshaw has come up with the idea for a brilliant "compatibility app," a new kind of matchmaking software. All she needs is a programmer to help her bring the idea to market…and she knows exactly who she wants. But Niall Walsh—a code whiz and her former best friend—has been avoiding her since he returned from Afghanistan. In spite of their history, and some sparks that go beyond friendship, he's proving reluctant…. Is it her, or is something darker holding him back?

Author Bio
Karen Rock is an award-winning YA and adult contemporary author. She holds a master’s degree in English and worked as an ELA instructor before becoming a full-time author.  With her co-author, Joanne Rock, she’s penned the CAMP BOYFRIEND series with Spencer Hill Press under the pseudonym J.K. Rock. She also writes contemporary romance for Harlequin Enterprises. Her wholesome romance, Heartwarming novels have won the 2014 Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence and the 2014 Golden Quill Contest. When she's not writing, Karen loves scouring estate sales for vintage books, cooking her grandmother's family recipes and hiking. She lives in the Adirondack Mountain region with her husband, daughter, and two Cavalier King cocker spaniels who have yet to understand the concept of "fetch" though they know a lot about love. To find out about her upcoming releases, appearance and latest news, visit http://www.karenrock.com or follow her on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/karenrockwrites or Twitter at http://www.twitter.com/karenrock5 She’d love to connect with you!C:\Users\Majanka\SkyDrive\Book Tours\Upcoming Tours\Someone Like You\Karen Rock Head Shot.jpg

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Giveaway: Autographed copies of WISH ME TOMORROW, HIS HOMETOWN GIRL, and SOMEONE LIKE YOU  as well as a $100 Amazon Gift Card.
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Book Excerpts
Someone Like You Excerpt #1: Dating Debate
A strange expression came over Niall’s face, and he seemed to look deep into her, not into her eyes, but through her eyes. As if he could see the thoughts clamoring to betray her. She glanced down then up again, finding it hard to look away.
“And you’re certain your app will do this,” he said, his face serious. “Help people find true love?”
Her hand stilled on Chairman Meow’s white belly, earning her a prickly swat. She gave an emphatic nod. “Of course. Don’t you agree?”
Niall frowned a bit. “No. I see it as a fun conversation starter, more or less.”
She scowled. “So you’re saying our product is some kind of joke? That users won’t take it seriously? What’s on your list? The one you made at camp. You believed in it then.”
The question seemed to catch Niall unprepared. He sat still and awkward for a moment, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for a way out. Finally, he shook his head.
“I was a kid.”
“But you’ll make one now, of course.” She added it to her to-do list so that she wouldn’t forget to look for it.
“No.” Niall waved Chairman Meow’s tail as the cat batted at it. “I compromised about the windows and the cat. But I’m not making a list.”
Disappointment filled her. How closed off could he be? Sheesh. She was right to be firm with herself about not falling for him. They were great as friends, but couldn’t be less compatible romantically—with or without a list, it was obvious.
After a long moment, Niall drew a deep, slow breath. “We’re better off using traits from your list or ones we get from market samples.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And why is that?”
He tilted his face, one corner of his mouth lifting in a wry half smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t exactly fall into your target audience.” His stiff shoulders shrugged. “I’m not looking to meet someone.”
“Oh.” A heavy weight settled in her chest. Although her heart still broke when she thought of Brett, she knew that someday she’d be ready for romance. Something in Niall’s tone, however, sounded bleak and definite, as if he didn’t think he’d ever love anyone. Or worse, that anyone would ever love him.
In a breathless second, she almost asked him why he’d never consider love. She felt the question rising in her chest, drew in air then, hesitated. What could she say that wouldn’t sound too personal? Take things to an intimate level that might endanger their fragile partnership?

Someone Like You Excerpt #2: FIRST KISS
“I don’t need to be around other people,” he said drily, his gaze never leaving hers. “Except you.”
Heated blood rushed through her. That was treacherous thinking—for both of them.
“But if you used the app, you’d find the right girlfriend. Want to be with her. You can’t waste your time on someone like me. I’ll never be more than a friend.”
He closed the distance between them in one stride and eyed her. “Sure about that?”
And suddenly, he pulled her into his arms, his strong body enfolding her. His lips lowered then paused, his heated eyes questioning. Was he waiting for her to refuse him?
Her bones melted against him, and her resolve to keep things professional crumbled.
She wanted this kiss as badly as she’d ever wanted anything. She stretched up on her tiptoes and heard him groan as his lips swept down and captured hers, the caress as feather soft as the dragonfly’s wings.
He pulled the band around her bun loose, and her hair tumbled down her back, his hands burying themselves in it. When he deepened their kiss, his mouth slanting firmly against hers, her skin heated. Their hearts pounded together, and she breathed in his minty breath, tasting the strawberries they’d eaten earlier. Wanting him closer, she traced his bunching back muscles, loving their hardness and strength.
When his lips left hers and traveled along her jaw, she fitted herself against him closer still, needing to feel all of him. As his lips slid along her earlobe then down her neck, the world tilted and spun madly in the wrong direction.
She cupped his face and brought it back to hers, wanting his mouth again, the caress deepening into a demanding kiss that left her breathless and clutching on to his shoulders when her knees weakened.
At last he stopped, and they stared at each other, chests heaving, breath coming in fits and starts.
“Still sure?” he murmured, his eyes searching hers. Struck dumb, she nodded automatically, her gesture making him scowl, disappointment in his eyes. When he strode out of the pavilion, her fingers traced her swollen lips
How had she let that happen?

Someone Like You Excerpt FRIEND TO LOVE
Strong hands slid into hers, and Kayleigh shivered with pleasure. “I wondered where you went.”
She forced herself to meet his kind eyes. “I’m sorry about that, Niall. Sorry for what I said. Sorry for lots of things. You’ve always been such a good friend to me, and I treated you badly.”
“A friend?” His eyes searched hers, and she felt her heart open up to him like a flower touched by dawn. He wanted more than friendship. She couldn’t predict how this would go, but after years of knowing each other, they had a good start.
“No. Not just as a friend,” she admitted, and felt herself melt at the passionate flare in his eyes. She angled her head and leaned closer, aching for his kiss.
“We have to get out of here,” he said suddenly and stood, pulling her with him.
“Huh? Why?” His words broke through her romantic fog, and she flushed, embarrassed. Had she misread the situation? Either way, she wouldn’t regret it. But another look into his soulful eyes reassured her. She was right about him. She knew it down deep.
“Because I can’t kiss you here.” His eyes slid to Gianna’s open door then back to her, and heat raced up her neck and flooded her cheeks.
He lifted her fingers to his lips, then pulled her out the door.

Excerpt: Someone Like You: Kayleigh and Niall Meet Again
Kayleigh’s eyes followed the hostess’s down to the run in her nylon, and she tucked one leg behind the other. “I’m here to meet a man.”
The woman’s eyes widened, and her nose piercing twitched. “Anyone in particular? There are quite a few at the bar.”
Kayleigh felt her forehead bead and started again. “His name’s Niall Walsh. He’s got dark hair…” Her voice trailed off. Did he look the same after his time in the army? She imagined his tall, wiry form and boyish handsomeness.
“She’s with me,” a husky voice interrupted her. She whirled, shocked into silence at the powerfully built man looming beside her. He’d definitely filled out from his military days. Her eyes flicked to his left leg, but not so fast that he didn’t catch her glance, his lips firming in a straight line. Warmth crept into her cheeks. She hadn’t wanted to make him feel self-conscious, but she’d gone and done it anyway. Not the best start to their reunion.
“It’s good to see you, Niall.” She searched his eyes, a jolt of familiarity zipping through her veins. The deep brown depths held the gold flecks she could count by heart, his lashes so thick they’d look girlish if not for his angular, masculine features. He’d always had high cheekbones, but now there was sharpness in his face, as if someone had chiseled out his firm, square jaw and the prominent brow that gave proportion to his strong nose and full lips.
His chestnut-colored hair was no longer clipped short, but layered lightly across his forehead and ears. He’d transformed from the young, earnest man she’d known to a hand- some stranger. She flushed despite the steady stream of cool air blowing from an overhead vent. MaryAnne should have warned her about this change. It was doing something funny to her stomach.
“Shall we?” He held out his arm, and she took it, feeling awkward. Once she would have flown into his arms, and he would have swung her, laughing. But those days seemed distant, out of reach. Hopefully, they’d loosen up over lunch. She’d lost so much since she’d last seen Niall—Chris, her job, Brett. She wondered about Niall’s losses and knew the past few years must have been very difficult for him.
They ambled through the nautically decorated restaurant, navigating a maze of dark wood tables. Kayleigh forced her racing thoughts from the man beside her and surveyed the scene. The room resembled the inside of a ship with a wood-slatted ceiling, a brass railing along the oak bar and fishing nets and lures dangling from the walls.
She peeked at Niall’s stern profile. He looked as uncomfortable as she felt. But this was Niall. The boy she’d beaten in a bubble-blowing contest when they were eleven, the teen who’d taught her how to parallel park, the high school senior who’d celebrated with her when they’d been admitted to the same college, the young man who’d promised to write her every day from Afghanistan and then had stopped communicating with her altogether.
In crisp khakis and a white polo shirt that showed off his coloring and broad shoulders, Niall looked great. He was pale, probably from staying indoors as MaryAnne mentioned, but handsome. It felt as though she looked at him through the shifting lenses at an eye doctor’s office. One minute she saw him as her old pal, and the next she glimpsed an unfamiliar man with experiences and secrets she no longer knew. How strange to feel as if she was meeting him for the first time.

Someone Like You Excerpt Pool Scene
The cool air on her wet shoulders made her shiver, and Niall wrapped his towel around her.
“Here. I don’t need it.”
She handed it back. “No, Niall. You don’t get it. I don’t want you to come to my rescue. I’m not looking for a knight in shining armor. If I were a princess, I’d save myself.”
Niall’s leg circled in the water, making a mini whirlpool. “So tell me what a non-princess needs,” he said at last.
“Someone who brings out the best in me, supports me, values my opinion and, most of all, is honest with me.”
“I’ll do that, Kay.” He looked sincere, and his insistent tone undid the wall she’d placed between them. “As much as I can. Let’s set up our base of operations in my apartment, and we’ll meet there tomorrow. I’ve got some things for us to go over, and nothing’s final until we both approve.” He pulled off her swim goggles, then trailed the backs of his fingers down the side of her face until they fell away.
Her breath hitched. That didn’t feel like a “friendly” touch. And it definitely crossed pro- fessional boundaries. So why did she want him to do it again? To let his hand linger so she could press her cheek into his palm.
“We’ll disagree at times. But I won’t let anyone, like Major Carlton, act like you don’t exist again.”
She shook her head, trying to get her thoughts back on track. “I didn’t think you’d noticed.” He studied his wrinkled fingertips, then lifted his eyes to hers, their tortured depths doing
something funny to her heart.
“I notice you, Kayleigh,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “More than I should.”

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Great Book, Great Giveaway!: Reluctantly Undead by Rayne Rachels


Virtual Book Tour Dates: 7/16/14 – 8/13/14
Genres: Paranormal Romance

Ember Winterstone is not having a good night. She wakes up in a dumpster. Her neck hurts where her date used her as a meal. Vampire hunters chase her, and the other vampires think she is the real queen, especially since she is a day walker, eats food, drinks almost no blood, and stands up to Zophia, the psycho vampire queen.
Ember’s problems have just begun.
Her mother has kept a couple of major secrets from her, the two men who make Ember drool refuse to claim her, and the psycho vampire queen decides Ember must die.


The night I died, I woke up into a world I thought only existed in the warped minds of screenwriters in Hollywood and romance authors who wrote about the dark, tortured soul looking for his or her soul mate. I mean, get real. Vampires and werewolves are stuff of myth and legends.  Right?
Wrong. Wrong!
Vampires are REAL.
How do I know this?
The night I died, I woke up as a vampire. But of course, leave it to me to screw up the whole process.
Okay, I am rambling.
Sorry about that, and I am sorry for apologizing, and I—you get the
By the way, I’m Ember. Ember Winterstone.
I know what you’re thinking. Ember the Vampire. I guess you are waiting for me to burst into flames. Ha. Ha.  The jokes are not funny. I did not pick my name. That honor is my parents’ fault; or rather, it was my mom’s fault. I do not know much about dear old dad. Mom doesn’t have any pictures and she never said much about him other than he was special and he had duties that came before their love, but he loved us very much and wanted us to be happy.
I guess it was her way of making excuses for a deadbeat dad.
Then, my mom married Henry Taylor when I was ten.
She said I wasn’t happy because I didn’t have a father and it was her job to make sure I had one.  I think mom was lonely. Memories don’t keep you warm at night. Anyway, I ended up with a weird stepfather and an even weirder, older stepbrother.
I don’t have a lot of time this afternoon, lots of things to do to prepare for the Halloween Ball, but I need to get my story down on paper.
First, I am a reporter. My job is to tell stories, to get the facts into print so people can read it. Second, I want to be the one telling my story so it is accurate. So many biographies have errors or they make the person sound more heroic than the person really was. Third, it gives me a way to sort out the details and make some sort of meaning from everything that has happened to me. Call it a therapeutic activity, if you want.
Where does my journey begin?
That’s easy.
It began on the day I died and woke up.

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About the Author:
Rayne Rachels lives in Texas with her husband and two very demanding cats. When she isn’t creating stories, she can be found reading and honing her photography skills. Rayne enjoys taking road trips, especially to the coast where she fishes every chance she gets. She also enjoys visiting flea markets and playing poker.

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Thursday, August 7, 2014

Book to Love: A Portal in Time by Claire Fullerton

A Portal in Time
Claire Fullerton

Genre: Paranormal/Historical Romance

Publisher: Vinspire Publishing

Date of Publication: November 30, 2013


Number of pages: 192
Word Count: 50,000

Cover Artist: Elaina Lee/For the Muse Designs

Book Description:

When we are inexplicably drawn to love and a particular place, is it coincidence, or have we loved before?  
Enigmatic and spirited Anna Lucera is gifted with an uncanny sixth-sense and is intrigued by all things mystical. When her green, cat-eyes and long, black hair capture the attention of a young lawyer named Kevin Townsend, a romance ensues which leads them to the hauntingly beautiful region of California's Carmel-By-The-Sea where Anna is intuitively drawn to the Madiera Hotel. Everything about the hotel and Carmel-By-The-Sea heightens her senses and speaks to Anna as if she had been there before.
As Anna's memory unravels the puzzle, she is drawn into a past that's eerily familiar and a life she just may have lived before.

Amazon      BN     Kobo   Overdrive


Chapter Ten
March 18, 1999, West Hollywood, California

“What’s this all about?” Lucia pulled out a chair across from her sister. They sat outside on the sidewalk in front of The King’s Head CafĂ© in West Hollywood amidst the hum of traffic and the flow of patrons looking for available seating on Beverly Boulevard. “You sounded funny on the phone.”
“I sounded funny?”
“You sounded mysterious,” Lucia clarified.
“I didn’t want to get into it on the phone. I thought I’d wait to talk to you in person.”
“All right, I’m listening,” Lucia settled back into her chair and looked at Anna expectantly.
“You’re not going to believe this, but Kevin brought up the subject of marriage the other day.”
“Why wouldn’t I believe that? It’s perfectly understandable to me, isn’t it to you?” Lucia laughed. “What did you say when he brought up the subject?”
“I skirted the issue, of course,” Anna’s tone suggested Lucia should know that.
“Wait a minute, did he just bring up the subject or did he ask you to marry him?”
“Well, it seemed to me he was testing the waters, but what he said was, ‘God help me, I’m married to a witch.’ I’m not sure I was supposed to hear it, but that’s exactly what he said,” Anna told her.
“Wait a minute, back up, I’m getting lost. Were you doing something that made him call you a witch or was he just making a general observation because he’s had enough time to realize that you are a little touched in that way?”
“In what way?” Anna sounded defensive.
“Come on, Anna, anyone who knows you knows you’re bent towards the uncanny, and I mean that with nothing but love,” Lucia tried to suppress a smile. “You’re the same way that Mom was—obviously these things run in families.”
Anna felt the immediate tug of her heartstrings at the mention of their mother, who had died of Leukemia two and a half years earlier. Her illness had been a harrowing experience to both her and Lucia, absolutely draining them emotionally for the two years prior to her death. Her slow decline compounded the loss of their father when they were only teenagers and now that both parents were gone, Anna and Lucia only had each other. Anna conjured the memory of their mother’s face, her tall elegance and demure ways and recalled that she, too, had an intuitive ability that everyone who knew her remarked upon.
“I don’t know that I’m anywhere near the way Mom was,” Anna leaned back. “Do you remember how she always knew what we were up to when we were little? There was no point in ever trying to fool her about anything because she always knew the truth.”
“Of course, you’ve always been a terrible liar. Everything you’re thinking is always written on your face. You were the one who always gave us away to Mom, not me,” Lucia reminded.
“That’s not entirely true,” Anna volleyed, “I remember the time you tried to sneak out the upstairs window at night and found Mom sitting on the garden bench under the tree you used because she’d picked up on what you were thinking practically before you even decided to do it. She could just tell by looking at you!”
“You’re right about that,” Lucia nodded. “Mom was something else altogether, wasn’t she? I’m convinced she was clairvoyant. I think she knew how to read us both. I really do miss her every day. I think of her every time I see a sunset, every time I feel the change of seasons in the air, every time I see the full moon. She made such an event out of the little things in life, didn’t she?”
“She definitely did. She placed great importance on ceremonies and symbolism and things like that,” Anna said. “I see so many things the same way she did because she taught us how.”
“I do, too. What she did to the exact spot where Dad got in his car wreck is a perfect example.”
“Well, a lot of people do a similar thing. I see markers on the side of the road all the time. Standing crosses with bouquets of flowers under them at the scene of a fatal accident. It’s a commemoration of a particular place where something significant happened.”
“Yes, but it was so much more to Mom than that,” Lucia reminded Anna. “That’s why she buried the key where Dad got in the accident. Do you recall that night? It was only two days after Dad died, but somehow Mom managed to set aside her grief in order to take care of business. She woke us up after midnight and told us to get in the car because we were going to conduct a ceremony. “

About the Author:

Claire Fullerton is the author of Paranormal/Historical Romance, “A Portal in Time.”  Her second novel, “Dancing to an Irish Reel,” set in Connemara, Ireland, will be published in March, 2015.  Claire is a contributor to numerous magazines as well as a multiple contributor to the “Chicken Soup for the Soul” book series. She is a multiple award winning essayist, a former major-market radio disc jockey, and an avid ballet dancer.  Claire hails from Memphis, Tennessee, and currently divides her time between Malibu and Carmel, California with her husband and two German shepherds!


Tour giveaway

2 print copies of A Portal in Time open to US Shipping

2 e-book copies of A Portal in Time open internationally

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Review and Giveaway! An Etiquette Guide to the End of Times by Maia Sepp


Virtual Book Tour Dates: 7/10/14 - 7/24/14

Sci Fi (Dystopian)


Good manners never go out of style…do they?

There aren’t any zombies (yet), but the world is still at the brink of destruction: It’s 2028 and global warming has led to rising oceans, crazy weather, and resource scarcity. On top of that, someone just
turned the Internet off. Seeing as how it’s humanity’s last chance to turn things around manners are, understandably, a bit frayed.

Bookish etiquette buff Olive O’Malley is busy microfarming her urban property and minding her own business (and her chickens) when the government comes calling. Their goal is to push the populace towards carbon-neutrality while keeping kvetching to a minimum, and they come
with a proposal: transition Olive’s popular etiquette column to a radio show for the masses, and they’ll help Olive find her grandfather, who’s gone missing.

Olive doesn’t trust the hipster government officials who try to bribe her with delicious-but-probably-a-little-evil chocolate pastries, and declines their offer. (Politely, of course.) But they won't take no for an answer, and soon Olive is knee-deep in turmoil, eco-terrorism, and missing chickens. Now she has to untangle herself from their demands and figure out how to make sure her family (and her poultry) are safe before it’s too late.

One—In the Land of Victory

My superhero power is definitely not sleeping. When I was looking for a
house, my realtor rhapsodized about this bedroom’s perfect southern
exposure, about the tastefully herbaceous wall treatment and charming
old-world feel. Right now my room could be more accurately described
as a floral-wallpapered sauna, full of an impossible heat, like three
Julys stuffed into one. It isn’t helping.
I watch the overhead fan stop again, gyrate, and then restart before I
roll over, the sheets coming with me. After a minute I shift to the
other side, flinging the covers away with a sigh. The fan finally
grinds to a halt, probably the victim of a wiring problem I haven’t
been able to pin down, although lately I’ve been thinking it might
just hate me.
I relocate to the living room and angle the pedestal fan my way. God,
it’s hot.
I close my eyes
and lean back on the couch for a minute, hoping sleep will take me.
The sofa is a faux leather hand-me-down that’s supple after years
of wear, smelling faintly earthy, soft against my skin.
Eventually I switch the TV on. Our cable hasn’t worked properly in months, the
service so erratic it’s like the people running the company are
legless, as my grandfather Fred would say—a charming Irish way of saying
spectacularly drunk, even though my grandfather hasn’t seen Ireland
since he was a child. My eyes land on Fred’s easy chair, a pale
green monstrosity he could barely squeeze through the front door when
I finally convinced him to move in with me. His pipe, his books, and
his old-man slippers are still where he left them.
After flipping through a bunch of static, I shut the TV off and switch to
the radio, which promptly announces it’s five-thirty in the
morning. I ponder what to do next, discarding juggling, mind-reading,
and origami, although I spend more time thinking about mind-reading
than I probably should, considering I’m the only one here. Finally
I pull my computer tablet onto my lap and turn it on. I write an
etiquette column for a spunky arts and culture website, and my latest
instalment is due on Friday; other people’s problems are always a
delightful way to get my mind off my own. I start to page through the
letters, which all start with 

Dear Olive. Dear Olive, I’m convinced my neighbor is milking my goat. Dear Olive, my neighbour’s windmill is keeping me up at night. Dear Olive, my wife is hoarding solar panels. What do I do?
Three crashing noises erupt above my head, each more ominous than the last.
I wait for it to stop, but twenty minutes later I’m clinging to the
side of my house, staring down a pair of raccoons who seem intent on
defiling my solar array. For a long while it’s just the three of
us, locked in visual combat, but it’s my roof and unless they start
paying rent, they’ve got to go. Eventually they get spooked by the
noise of the six a.m. domestic surveillance drone overhead, which
would make this the first time I’ve ever been happy to see a drone.
I watch as it starts its first pass of the morning. They’re smaller
than the military version—sleek, modern, ever-watchful. Rumour is
they’re even biodegradable, although that hasn’t exactly endeared
them to anybody.
After the raccoons finally lumber off I pull myself onto the roof and take
a look at the solar panel they’ve sullied, the wires connecting the
array to my house almost stripped. It’s not easy to carry out
rooftop repairs quietly at six in the morning, and it definitely
wouldn’t be polite to wake anyone up, but I don’t want to be back
up here tomorrow, either. If I leave the panel like this, they’ll
come back and finish the jo
I know it. They’re organized.
I look up when a new-fangled Town Car,
still boxy and authoritarian but now electric-powered, turns onto my
street. I watch it as it goes; there are almost no cars on the roads
these days, and the sight makes a faint sense of unease pulse through
me. I hope whoever’s in that car isn’t carrying bad news for one
of my neighbours.

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My Review:

My recipe for creating Maia Sepp's An Etiquette Guide to the End of Times: mix equal parts apocalypse and science-fiction with a generous portion of conscience, and top with a dash of adventure. The story tells of a future where our ice caps have melted, our climates have changed, and necessities like cars have become nearly obsolete. It's a place where homesteading is no longer an option, and money is no longer important. It's the world of Olive O'Malley, the post-apocalyptic Emily Post.

Sepp's post-apocalyptic world is very different from the one we live in, and she does a great job of describing the world and the lifestyle changes without boring the reader. I really enjoyed reading about Olive's world, but especially about Olive's day-to-day life. I particularly enjoyed reading the questions Olive was sent and the answers she was given. It helped show how different the world was by showing how different the responses could actually be (though I do believe that a backup ham is unnecessary in any situation.)

While this story was a casserole of things that I love, I must admit that the portion left me wanting so much more. I feel like Sepp did an injustice to her creations by giving them such a small story. My one wish is that Sepp could take this novella, expand it and give her characters the longer story they deserve. With such great characters, settings, and plots, she could create a full-length masterpiece with just a bit more work. It was torture for me to end the story so quickly and wonder what happened in between the events of the novella.

While I know that my readers will also feel the pain of reading such a short story, I recommend this story to anyone who likes post-apocalyptic tales or science fiction in general. I am giving this story five stars, because Sepp did a wonderful job in creating this new version of our world.

My Rating:

About the Author:
Maia Sepp is an author of humorous contemporary and dystopian fiction. She
left the tech sector to write about sock thievery, migraines, the
future, and…the tech sector.
The Sock Wars is her debut novel. The first chapter of The Sock Wars was published as a short story/novel excerpt titled Irish Drinking Socks, and became a Kobo bestselling short story. The Sock Wars has been a top-100 digital bestseller on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and
the iBookstore, as well as a genre and Writing Life bestseller on Kobo.
It is
available in print and ebook formats.
Maia’s second novel is The Migraine Mafia, a story about a nerdy thirtysomething’s quest to come to terms with a chronic illness. It is available online everywhere in print and ebook formats. It has been a genre bestseller on Kobo.
Her latest is a humorous near-future dystopian novella, titled, An Etiquette Guide to the End Times, available now!

Author Links:



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