Monday, May 23, 2016

#Book #Blitz. . . .Where's Sailor Jack?

COMIN' AT'CHA
Proudly Presents. . .A Book 'Blitz'
Featuring Author, John Uttley



Where's Sailor Jack? 

John Uttley

Publication Date: April 28, 2016

Publisher: Matador
ISBN: 9781785891724
ASIN: B00W851QLM

Number of pages: 324

A family saga that takes in three generations of two families and all the struggles, tribulations and fireworks that you would expect as well as plenty you wouldn’t. Where’s Sailor Jack is the story of Bob Swarbrick’s journey from Northern-grammar-school-boy to business magnate through the break up of his marriage, the arrival of a new lover and an unhurried, consistent search for meaning in his life.

Bob and Richard are grammar school boys ‘done good’. Starting life in similar working class homes they have progressively climbed the ladder until they are able to both sit comfortably as champions of industry, and look back on their achievements and failures with the keen Northern wit that never left them, even after years of exile life in the south.

As they reflect on their lives, loves and business decisions both try to find an explanation to fit their lives: Bob seeks purpose, Richard meaning. While soul-searching, the reader is witness to an exemplary part of British history - from their childhoods in post war Northern England to the boom years in a prospering South (before survivors guilt starts to bite in their latter years and they wonder just how their opportunities would have worked out if they were born a few decades later).

The book covers and takes a unique look at romance, religion, business sense and social mobility but does so with wry tongue in its cheek whilst looking for a laugh, not a deep and meaningful conversation.


Chapter One

On a Sunday soon after his move north-west, Bob was flying high on Virgin, to LAX, as everyone but he knew Los Angeles airport was called. His last long-haul flight had been on Atomic Futures’ business in the bulkhead with British Airways. At over six foot and heavily built, he could make good use of the leg room. In an unflattering lavatory mirror, he saw receding, greying hair and many wrinkles above a jaw line a boxer could break a fist on. He’d never quite understood how his rugged looks had charmed the several-to-many women along the way. The seating arrangement in Virgin’s best seats made the cabin look like a beauty salon, but he’d played safe and eschewed the offer of an on-board facial. The Journey Information on the monitor told him there was about an hour of the flight to go, confirmed by something looking like the Grand Canyon out of the window, though it looked bleak enough to have been the surface of another planet.

He was trying not to sleep on the way out, nor to go to bed until at least ten o’clock Pacific Standard Time. He’d flicked between the films on the in-flight entertainment system, and found nothing he’d wanted. He’d then settled down to listen to some music, first Elvis, then Ray Charles and finally Abba, who’d bounced along merrily at first until a cold sweat told him that he was the loser standing small alongside seventies woman. He switched Agnetha off to pick up the book he’d brought, Ian McEwan’s Saturday, which he immediately put down again. His eyes were tired.

He reclined the chair to be alone with his musings on his return to Lancashire. Blackpool was making a good fist of doing itself up, despite New Labour lousing up the Las Vegas style casino scheme, not that he’d ever really wanted it. In the evenings, the place was alive with young ladies joyfully, sometimes even decorously, celebrating their hen nights with like-minded friends. The folk who lived in St Chad’s hadn’t changed that much. The young people at church had the same freshness that he’d once had, full of their multimedia world and excited about their opportunities, though the ladder had been pulled up since his day, leaving cows from the Fylde fields with more chance of going through the eye of a needle than any ordinary kid entering the kingdom of riches he’d inherited. Lancashire wasn’t at the centre of things the way it had been back then, with Blackpool the Mecca for comedians, Liverpool the capital of music, the mighty Granada television like a second BBC, and the Manchester Guardian thinking about what the world would do tomorrow. He saw The Guardian moving to London as an even bigger betrayal than John Lennon’s sleep-in.

The summer of 1963 with Freewheelin’ on his turntable and the Mersey sound on every radio was forever to remain his Archimedean point. Martin Luther King was dreaming his dream accompanied vibrato by Joan Baez and civil rights were coming. Bras weren’t being burnt though. Much later Jane challenged him with why not. He’d answered that women’s liberation hadn’t come out of nowhere. She’d generously agreed that it was only fair for apes like him to have had their day in the sun before the real business got done.

He’d had a vacation job in Stanley Park and that had given him an affinity with the old codgers from the Great War who came for the brass band concerts. Though they were sitting in God’s waiting room, they were cheerful, talking for hours about space travel and the like but not of course about their health problems or the trenches. He thought of his never-liberated Grannie who died at the start of the pivotal year. She’d make him green jelly with bananas whenever he went round as a kid and had knitted most of the jumpers he was still wearing through university after her death. His sister had in her kitchen the old milking stool from Grannie’s farm-girl days, with more than a thousand years of history stored in its battered wood. Like the religion his ancestors had shared, its purpose had been endorsed by the long passage of time. To lose either would be to lose his soul. He didn’t want to live so long that his memory of Grannie dimmed.

He was off to LA to discuss the possibility of him chairing a solar technology company, The Northern Solstice Inc., looking to be floated on AIM, the small companies’ part of the London Stock Exchange. He’d created a portfolio of non-executive chairmanships since his nuclear demise; nice work if you can get it, he’d say. He’d had surprising success given that he was temperamentally stuck somewhere between public and private sector. On one venture, he’d helped rescue a telecoms company after the dotcom bubble burst, which he’d then sold to a trade buyer, a conglomerate chaired by Sir Charles, for a huge profit, a month before the market fell again. He’d found that the private sector was about living on your wits rather than on solid ground.

He hadn’t much knowledge of solar economics or if it was such a good environmental thing. He hoped that this opportunity could provide some atonement for his past environmental sins. As a nuclear man, he’d never been a denier of the greenhouse effect. He knew how expensive nuclear had been but could see no better option despite his lingering doubts on waste disposal, weapons proliferation and operational balls-up issues. He was as antagonistic towards wind power as most power engineers and ornithologists were.

The invitation to LA had come from a woman he’d got to know at Black and Robertshaw, an accounting firm working out of Bristol whose corporate finance arm had handled the telecoms sale. They were advising on the Northern Solstice flotation, acting as Nomad – shorthand for nominated adviser. Wendy Ballinger was already in LA and he was to meet her the next day with the acting Chairman and the CEO.

In the arrivals hall, the driver arranged by Virgin was holding up his name. All upper class passengers could have a limo for up to an hour’s journey. Anaheim was in the band. He was stopping at the Stonehaven there, near to the Northern Solstice factory in Yorba Linda as well as close to Disney. Wendy was upmarket and uptown, staying at the Westin. His mobile beeped a message as he reached his room. Wendy wanted a word. He was desperate for the lavatory, but couldn’t prevent himself from ringing her first. As he waited for her to answer, her face appeared in front of him on the screen in his brain (not on his phone, that was an early, basic model), almost elegant, with a distinguished nose. Her blonde hair looked natural enough but did owe something to a bottle. He found her both friendly and competent, a pleasure to do business with. She was a while answering and his internal camera panned slowly downwards. In her early forties, married without children to an older man, her bosom was worthy of the name; her long legs went all the way to her not insubstantial bum. And she was intelligent. He should have thought of that first.

She had bad news, disclosed in pure, gentle, Gloucestershire tones that could have belonged to a sixth former. She’d been at a pre-meeting with the acting Chairman, a guy called Peter Forster, along with the CEO, Emil Fares. Forster was a hard-nosed South African who owned Forster Capital, the largest shareholder. He’d told Wendy that they didn’t want her to handle the listing as Black and Robertshaw had no market strength.

Bob wanted to ask if that meant he’d wasted his time coming out, and if somebody would be reimbursing his expenses, but realised he’d better sympathise first. She didn’t need that, believing that her firm, although not a strong broking house, had done a pretty good job. “No first division broker would handle such a small transaction,” she asserted. “And there’s so little time before the date they want to float that they’d like to take a look at you. They’ll also want to know if you’ve any other ideas as to who else could act as Nomad.”

“I’d have no idea. I wouldn’t want the job now anyway,” he said, honestly enough as Wendy was a big part of the attraction.

“That’s up to you, but I’d be grateful for my reputation if you could hear them out. Perhaps Divinity might do it. They’re pitching hard into renewables.”

Bob became more interested. “Fancy that. An old friend of mine from my nuclear days, Richard Shackleton, told me over a round of golf that he’d just joined Divinity Partners. He said it was about time the Godhead had some new blood. Do you know him?”

Wendy did know Richard, who she called a terrific bloke. “Hey, thee, me and him could make a great team if they’d have us,” Bob reckoned. “Can’t we get him to do the broking and you to be the Nomad?” Wendy doubted Forster would agree to that idea but was happy for Bob to try it on.

Bob was already looking forward to Richard joining them and started to tell Wendy about his daft ideas. “Like me, he doesn’t think metaphysics should be a dry study of what can and can’t be said, but a licence to think insanely. According to him, we can’t actually change anything physical and all events rigidly follow the laws of nature. But we are free to make whatever we want of what happens. I remember a flotation meeting with loads of advisers. We took time out to discuss Schrödinger’s cat, as you do. Richard…”

“As you and Richard do, you mean. Tell me about that some other time,” she interrupted. “George Coulson, the CFO, will be in the hotel lobby at nine o’clock to collect you. We’re meeting in Emil’s office at nine thirty.”

Having at last managed to have a pee, he unpacked his case, lining up one shirt and tie, his suit, a pair of socks and shoes for the morning. He put pyjamas on the pillow, soap bag and razor in the bathroom, Saturday and the alarm clock by his bed, before he had had a quick shower, drenching the bathroom floor. At a quarter past nine PST, twenty two hours since leaving his London flat, he went to bed.

He quickly went to sleep, only to wake with a start at about two o’clock, gasping for breath. The heavy quilt was over his head. He pulled the quilt halfway down the bed and managed to sleep again. An hour later he woke again. This time he turned the air conditioning off. Sleep wouldn’t come. He tried to read for a while, propped up against the pillows. In the big mirror on the opposite wall, he caught sight of his gaunt face drained of colour. With a shock, he realised he was looking at his Dad, Jack Swarbrick, laid out at the funeral parlour. That Swarbrick big conk was a matter of pride.

Of course it wasn’t his Dad, but the embodiment of hard-wired genetics. Wendy’s face, and much prettier conk, had frozen on his internal screen. He slept through till 6.30am with her in view.

Copyright © 2015 John Uttley



About the Author:

John Uttley was born in Lancashire just as the war was ending. Grammar school educated there, he read Physics at Oxford before embarking on a long career with the CEGB and National Grid Group. He was Finance Director at the time of the miners' strike, the Sizewell Inquiry and privatisation, receiving an OBE in 1991. Shortly afterwards, he suffered his fifteen minutes of fame when he publicly gave a dividend to charity in the middle of the fat cat furore. More recently, he has taken an external London degree in Divinity while acting as chairman of numerous smaller companies, both UK and US based. This is his first novel. He is married to Janet, living just north of London with three grown children and dog.




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Brought to You By:






Kimberly Ranee Hicks, Author/Poet/Reviewer

Sunday, May 22, 2016

#Authors Pay Attention!!!



All Tours/PROMO's must start before  August 31st to be eligible. 
*Note, there is a 3-week notice for all PROMO's and a 6-week notice for all Tours! So make sure you book ASAP! *



Summer Discount PROMOTION

Package Pricing WITH the Discount

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(BEST BANG FOR YOUR BUCK) Addicted - 20 Stops - Mixture of Post Types - $76.50
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Reading Addiction Blog Tours will is offering 15% Off to
All Authors who book a Tour/PROMO this summer!
(Tours must start between May 1st - August 31st)
Contact us HERE and mention the CODE WORD: SUMMER

#Book #Review . . .A Dangerous Age




SYNOPSIS:

Couture royalty meets downtown grit and heady artists mingle with freewheeling socialites in A Dangerous Age, a sophisticated, indulgent, and delicious novel of contemporary New York City that women of all ages will devour. 

It’s the dog days of a sweltering Manhattan summer, and four sophisticated best friends who once took New York by storm are secretly falling apart at the seams. Lucy’s marriage to a renowned artist is slowly crumbling, with an explosive secret that threatens them both. Sarah, in the middle of auditioning for an auspicious new television show, realizes that her socialite standing is in jeopardy after countless disastrous events. Billy—a queen in the kitchen—has finally left her former life behind to become a highbrow cuisine artist. And Lotta, a knockout downtown art dealer, spends her free time guzzling cocktails in both the grittiest and most expensive clubs around town—but now, she’s taken it a little too far. 

In this addicting and refreshing comedy of manners reminiscent of Edith Wharton, Lucy, Sarah, Billy, and Lotta go to all ends to hide their troubles in a city that worships only the young, twentysomething it-girl. But in the end, there’s no denying that these women have all entered a very dangerous age...and who knows how they’ll emerge on the other side.


M & J's Review

I don’t know about you, but I love a cute and funny ‘girlfriends’ type of book. If you’re looking for a nice story that has a little bit of everything in it, this is the story for you. Any woman who is in their 40s or about to embark down the fabulous forties road, will definitely be able to relate to these smartly crafted characters.

What’s strange is that I never really thought about my forties being a dangerous age. To me, your age is truly a number, but what that number represents for some women can make all the world of difference. Take Lucy, our protagonist. She’s forty-two and in an 18-year old marriage to one of New York’s finest artists, Titus. Things just aren’t what they seem anymore. Everything has gotten old, especially since her hubby is several years older than her. All the things they used to do together have come to an abrupt halt. She’s in a very vulnerable and insecure state; not exactly sure what has become of her and Titus. They don’t even share a marital bed anymore, and sex has all but become nonexistent. Thankfully, she has her three solid rocks to fall upon for support, Sarah, Lotta and Billy. If it weren’t for them, she’d be in worse shape than her mental state already is.

Unfortunately, even though she has them for comfort, they, too, have their own fair share of problems. But the one thing that remains a constant in their lives is that they have each other to lean on. Lucy’s mother seems to have it all put together. She’s in her sixties and living life to the fullest. She’s trying to get her daughter to add a little heat to her otherwise fizzling marriage. Lucy doesn’t really want to take her mother’s advice. Sarah is so intent on getting her reality show, all she cares about is who will see her and creating as much buzz in the media circuit as she can muster. Lotta certainly has a great name because everything she does is ‘a lotta’ it. She’s into any and everything that has a pulse and makes her feel like she’s reliving her twenties again. One minute they were young women looking forward to the future and before anyone blinked, their forties crept up on them out of nowhere. Where did the decades go and who was the thief that robbed them of their youth? Hmm, that thief is none other than Father Time, and he isn’t always a great daddy depending on how you spent your time coming up the ranks, as these four women soon found out the hard way.

Lucy has another dilemma. While she’s deeply concerned that her husband no longer desires her, she’s been receiving some rather racy text messages from an unknown person. Every time she goes down the street, she’s constantly looking over her shoulder to see if the man standing a little too close or walking by too swiftly is ‘the’ one who has been texting her. She’s falling in love with a text. Oh dear, how sad can you get? Who knew words could be so powerful? Lotta does a little too much drinking and drugging. Sarah is pretty uptight, until the producers for her would-be reality show comes to a dinner party she hosts that her bestie, Billy, has slaved over the stove for. It turned out to be a party that soon no one would ever forget. 

Needless to say, these women had a little bit of everything going on in their lives and this was truly an unforgettable read. I enjoyed the comedy and realness to these women. Any woman can really relate to these characters regardless as to what stage of life you’re in. This is definitely one of those books that qualifies under the “me time” category. Get you a glass of nice wine, sit back and enjoy. I know I certainly did. 

Mello & June gives this novel four stars. It’s a very satisfying read, cute and zany all wrapped up into one. This would be an outstanding book for any women’s book clubs out there. I can just see the cork popping, wine flowing and the laughter beginning. This is definitely a woman’s read, and one you’ll be talking about for years to come. A Dangerous Age goes on sale on June 7, 2016. Ladies hit your favorite wine store and grab the book. Cheers!



Kimberly Ranee Hicks, Author/Poet/Reviewer

This Story Makes You Feel Just Like the
Little Girl!

Thursday, May 19, 2016

All Hell. . .Empire

(Empire Spoiler Alert!)




In case you missed Wednesday’s Season Two Finale of Empire, you will not want to read this post. What’s funny is, I really didn’t plan on writing a post regarding the episode, but since I talked about it last December trying to figure out who pushed Rhonda down the spiral staircase, it was revealed in Wednesday’s episode.

Ok. . .so the Hottest Show on the Planet suddenly has become lukewarm of sorts. I wasn’t feeling that finale in any way, shape or fashion. I was downright disappointed and pissed! There isn’t any other way for me to express my aggravation than to say it just how I felt. What a huge letdown!

Empire has finally come to that place in time of what I’d like to call the TV-Dumbs. I think the show truly has gone as far as it’s going to go. In fact, the show is all over the damn place! I’m not sure the writers even know where the hell they’re going at this point? It was obvious with the last ten minutes of the finale. What’s sad is, this sort of thing usually happens after a show has become seasoned, but in my opinion, Empire is still in its infancy stages, and it’s already hit its peak and I don’t think there’s any bouncing back from that bullshit they called a finale.

In Season One, Empire was really strong and promising, and then Season Two started off a little rocky for some, but I hung in there because I realize the writers were doing character and story line development. I get all of that. But what I don’t get is how you could build your viewing audience up only to let them fall flat on their asses? Having someone push Rhonda down the staircase was sheer brilliance. I figured the writers would really play up the plot, but instead they did a 360 and just made it obvious that Boo-Boo Kitty was the pusher. OMG, what a missed opportunity! Why on earth would you make the most obvious person be the pusher when there were so many other characters to put into play and use them to build up the story? To me, that took the complete fun out of the story.

Now we got Lucious’s unsteady mama in the picture along with his half-brother, which was a twist, but not so much, Tariq, the FBI agent trying to take down his brother. Add insult to injury, this Sian guy who I assume was supposed to be a character like Suge Knight. And to make matters even worse, instead of cute Hakim getting married to Laura, his own devilish father had to marry Anika to keep her from testifying before the Grand Jury. Ok, this is truly reaching folks. I haven’t done my homework completely on this fact, but this sounds like TV land law and not real law. He and Anika had been broken up a while and even though they had this alleged marriage certificate in DC, how long does a certificate last? And if the certificate was awarded in DC, was this wedding not in New York? I guess it doesn’t matter where you get your marriage certificate? (Any family attorneys out there reading this?) Someone’s continuity is screwy here, and it damn sure isn’t mine. I realize that real life real time differs from make-believe, but come the hell on! Are you serious? Cookie is back out of the picture—again! Oh yeah, and did anyone happen to notice that Lucious didn’t seemed fazed by any of this? He was cool, calm and collected like always. When he demanded Andre get his “wife,” he sounded like he did when he hugged Cookie when she became co-CEO and said, “I got your back!” Hmmph, who needs enemies with exes like that? Poor Cookie was tore up and refused to attend the wedding, which I applauded the sister, but I’m not feeling this mess!

Now Lucious is married to his grandchild’s mother. What in God’s name? Really? What the hell? Again, that timeline is very suspect because wouldn’t it be interesting to find out that the baby was Lucious’s after all. He and Anika wasn’t long broken up in Season One before she quickly abandoned his ship and hopped on board of Young Hakim. Now Rhonda and Anika are rolling around on the balcony like actors used to do in those old love movies supposedly making love. Just going back and forth and one on top and then the reverse. You hear a scream and Andre’s face is frozen in shock. Eeew, don’t you just wonder who went over? Welp, folks, I’m not falling for the hype anymore. If you make it that damn obvious that Anika did the pushing, should any of us really care who the hell went over the side? What would it matter? If they both die, the show will live to tape another episode. What the writers do with that, is solely within their possession. I’m just saying, this is all a bit too much for me to wrap my mind around. 

You know I was a diehard fan of Empire. I sang its praises, but this Season ender pissed me off royally. I just couldn’t believe how in left field they took its audience. I wasn’t feeling any of that. Everyone has horrible circumstances happening to them. Will there ever be a happily ever after for Cookie and Lucious? I suppose when the show is completely done. And even then, I don’t trust these writers to do what’s right. 


This is what happens to shows when they get too damn big. It happened to every show I ever loved. The writers screwed up The Sopranos. Does anyone remember that hot mess? OMG I was furious! Six years and they end up in some stupid ass restaurant and a car rolls up outside and no one has a clue if they were killed or not and the screen went blank, and I’m grabbing my remote shaking it and beating it against my hand thinking the thing went on the blink, only to discover that was all in HBO’s plan. I was never more livid! It happened with Law & Order, The Closer, Medium, etc. The actors start getting a little too big of themselves and think they deserve more money and egos inflate larger than life, and the end result is what you get of what we witnessed last night, bullshit!

So I guess the rumors about some of them leaving may be true. At this point, I say good riddance and I wish you the best in your endeavors. If you’re going to take a show that was so amazing and turn it to mush, I’d rather it go off-air. What is the damn point? I want to be entertained and shocked, but I don’t like being depressed and feeling let down waiting on something great to happen, only to feel defeated. That’s not why I watched the Hip-Hopera. Speaking of which, that was about the only thing that was hot—the music. I love all the Empire songs. Couldn’t wait to download the entire album. Really nice, but too bad the show is going down the hole rather quickly. All I know is, Season Three better get cleaned up and come better than that bull they did in Season Two. There wasn’t any origination or imagination. Took all the allure, lust and fire right out of the show. 

You know FOX, if you’re looking for a writer, I’m available. I could write that show a hell of a lot better than what I’m seeing now. Call me! As busy as I am, I wouldn't have the time, but hey, I'm not opposed to discussing.  (LOL)

In the words of an announcer from another show I used to love, “Seacrest, Out!” My drop-the-mic-moment!



Kimberly Ranee Hicks, Author/Poet/Reviewer

Don't Piss in my Face and Tell me It's Rain!

Wednesday, May 18, 2016

#Book #Blitz. . .A Slaughter of Angels

COMIN' AT'CHA
Proudly Presents. . .A Book 'Blitz'
Featuring Author, Matthew Angelo


Title: A Slaughter of Angels

Author: Matthew Angelo

Genre: Paranormal / Crime / Thriller

As the owner of the Midnight Agency, a private investigation company, I handle all sorts of cases that the police are unable to solve. This case was nothing different. Girls from a local club have come up missing and it is up to me, Rian MacCaren, to find them. Only problem is that the bad guy is no longer human. He is something else. That's what happens when you sell your soul to a demon.



GET TO KNOW MATTHEW ANGELO









Matthew Angelo is a part-time writer and full-time photographer in the Northern Colorado area. In his free time, he likes to watch episodes of Doctor Who, working out, and playing with his dog, a German Shepard named Gunner. He loves all things that deal with photography and enjoys all things paranormal even if he is a bit of a skeptic.











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Tuesday, May 17, 2016

#Mystery #Book #Blitz. . .Paradise, Passion, Murder

COMIN' AT'CHA
Proudly Presents. . .A Mystery Book Blitz
Featuring Authors



Murder Anthology

Date Published: January 2016

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Support Literacy in Hawai‘i

From the Big Island to Kauai, the far side of Maui to the bustling streets of Honolulu, experience paradise in all its glory...and darkness. This collection of ten stories brings out the beauty of the islands, the passion of the tropics, and, yes, murder. Join ten writers who love the islands and want you to savor the tropics while benefiting literacy in Hawaii.

Read Aloud America, a Hawai‘i 501.c.3 organization dedicated to promoting literacy in Hawai‘i, is proud to be the beneficiary of all proceeds from the sales of “Paradise, Passion, Murder.”

We hope you’ll join these ten writers who love the islands and want you to savor the tropics while benefiting literacy in Hawai‘i. Join Terry Ambrose, JoAnn Bassett, Gail Baugniet, Frankie Bow, Lorna Collins (editor), Kay Hadashi, Laurie Hanan, Jill Marie Landis, AJ Llewellyn, Toby Neal, and CW Schutter for Paradise, Passion, Murder.

This collection includes short stories from some of bestselling Hawai‘i mastery series, including JoAnn Bassett’s Islands of Aloha mysteries, Jill Marie Landis’s Tiki Goddess series, and Toby Neal’s Lei Crime series.

The stories travel the islands from Kaua‘i to O‘ahu and range from laugh-out-loud funny to heart wrenching. Join us today and help benefit literacy in Hawai‘i.


Contact Links:


Purchase Links:

Amazon

Barnes and Noble



Brought to You By:

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Kimberly Ranee Hicks, Author/Poet/Reviewer

Monday, May 16, 2016

#Cover #Reveal . . . Cornered by J.A. Belfield

The Wait Is Over!!



Cornered (Holloway pack #5)

By JA Belfield

Genre: Paranormal Romance/ Urban Fantasy

Age category: Adult

Release Date: May 30, 2016 

Excerpt:

Daniel Larsen is playing a dangerous game, and he doesn't even know it.

A two-wheeled speedster. A little redhead in a bar. Evenings spent away from his pack. Innocent enough for most, but for Danny, the combination leads down a path of destruction and straight to a hell he doesn’t even see coming.

Entangled in a nightmare that started with his own brother and the cat he brought into their home, Dan’s driving himself toward a solitary existence—except for the curvaceous Olivia Fanella. Seduced by his new companion, and happy to ignore the divide growing between himself and the pack, Danny is oblivious to the trap being laid out for him.

Before long, Danny's integrity gets questioned. His loyalty gets questioned. Hell, he even questions himself.

On top of that, just when he believes life might be going a little better, he gets served the roughest shot he could never have imagined—not even in his worst nightmares—and Danny has no idea how to come back from a hit like that.

         **Cornered contains scenes that some readers might find upsetting**


You can find Cornered on Goodreads:



About the Author:

J.A. Belfield lives in Solihull, England, with the best husband in the world, aka Mr. B, a couple of back-chatting but pretty cool kids, two pooches she treats likes the babies of the house, and a scrawny cat that like to vomit in unnecessary places.











CONTACT THE AUTHOR/BUY THE BOOK:


- Website:
http://www.jabelfield.com/

- Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/J-A-Belfield/102711583122115

- Twitter:
https://www.twitter.com/jabelfield/

- Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4730698.J_A_Belfield

- Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/J.A.-Belfield/e/B0055EAPEC/

- Instagram:
https://www.instagram.com/jabelfield72


GIVEAWAY! GIVEAWAY! GIVEAWAY! 


These are the prizes you can win


- ebook of Darkness & Light by JA Belfield

- a $5 Amazon Gift Card

For a chance to win enter the giveaway below:




                                                     Brought to You By:



Kimberly Ranee Hicks, Author/Poet/Reviewer


Don't Be UNdressed, Get Covered!

#Book #Blitz #Release. . .Leadership Wisdom

COMIN' AT'CHA
Proudly Presents. . .A Book 'Blitz'
Featuring Author, Bob Vanourek

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Title: Leadership Wisdom

Author: Bob Vanourek

Genre: Nonfiction

Discover the timeless, inspiring wisdom of leadership from the sage masters of literature and other outstanding leaders written over the centuries right up to the present day. Bob has selected over 70 poems, prose or speech passages, and curious verse, each with an insightful leadership message. He combines these pearls with bite-sized chunks of engaging commentary from his own vast leadership experience. Then he closes each entry with practical applications that each reader can use immediately. You’ll hear from an amazing array of poets, presidents, prime ministers, political leaders, social activists, soldiers, educators, journalists, business leaders, the Bible, religious leaders from many faiths, Native Americans, a lyricist, and relatively unknown authors. This treasure of wisdom will activate your creative right-brain and then challenge your logical left-brain. The Foreword written by noted leadership authorities, Jim Kouzes and Barry Posner, captures it well: “This is an inspiring book … an informative and practical book … a book full of the author’s personal reflections, which stimulates you to think deeply … an antidote to the hubris of know-it-all executives and authors … a fast-read book; however, read it slowly, and savor it to the last drop. This book will surprise you with its insights and simple truths. This book is a treasure…” You’ll want to give copies to people you care about.
Author Bio

This book was fun to write. There are too many books out there now with some new leadership model, some fable about fictitious characters, or some pithy leadership quotes without much in the way of how to apply them to your life. I wanted to write a different book about leadership.

I have been a student of leadership and poetry my whole life. I love good literature and have found keen insights into the human condition from the master writers of history.

So, why not look to the poets, prose writers, and famous speeches of history to see what the masters have already said about leadership? The answers we need today are all there. It’s been said before, and said very well. But how many people today are reading great literature or poetry? Not many, I fear.

So, I’ve made it easy for you the reader. I’ve selected over 70 poems, prose passages, excerpts from great speeches, song lyrics, or what I call “curious verse,” each with a leadership message that resonates with me. I place those passages on the left page of the open book. Then on the right page I tell you a bit about the author and context. Then I offer my commentary on the passage, drawing on my experiences, good and bad, in leading many companies, as well as the wisdom of the true leadership gurus of our time. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, I close with some practical applications that you, the reader, can use immediately to take this pearl of wisdom and apply to your own life. The result is a powerful combination of left and right-brain thinking.

I sent a draft of the manuscript to some tough, seasoned leaders and experts whom I respect and asked them to give me their candid feedback. I was humbled by their words: “inspiring” “informative” “practical” “a treasure” “engaging” “thought provoking” “superb” “enlightening” “brilliant” “simply genius” “a delight to read” “a must read” “a treasury of leadership wisdom” “a breakthrough” “timeless wisdom” “heartfelt” “I loved it”

I hope and trust that you will enjoy the compendium of leadership wisdom I have gathered here. Good luck and Godspeed on your leadership quest.
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Brought to You By:




Kimberly Ranee Hicks, Author/Poet/Reviewer