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url 2016-09-26 15:28
Release Day for Heir Of Thunder by Karissa Laurel With Excerpt

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Happy Book Birthday to Karissa Laurel's for Heir Of Thunder.

To celebrate with her we will have a great excerpt from the book. We also will have info and buy links for the book.It will be available in paperback later this year, but for now you can purchase it on Amazon kindle.

 Make sure to check everything out. 

Happy Reading :) 


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The Lord of Thunder’s sudden death leaves his daughter, Evelyn Stormbourne, unprepared to rule Inselgrau in his place. Weeks before Evie’s ascension to the throne, revolutionaries attack and destroy her home. She conceals her identity and escapes under the protection of her father’s young horse master, Gideon Faust. Together they flee Inselgrau and set sail for the Continent, but they’re separated when a brutal storm washes Evie overboard.

In her efforts to reunite with her protector and reach allies on the Continent, Evie befriends a band of nomads who roam the world in airships fueled by lightning. She also confronts a cabal of dark Magicians plotting to use her powers to create a new divine being, and she clashes with an ancient family who insists her birthright belongs to them. If she’s to prevail and defeat her enemies, Evie must claim her heritage, embrace her dominion over the sky, and define what it means to be Heir of Thunder.






Buy Link








A rumble of thunder woke me. I shifted under my quilts, turned towards my window, and searched the sky for clouds. Storms always made me smile; made me feel a little less lonely. Black clouds, lightning, and rain reminded me of better times, when thunder was a regular event in our household. My father used to make the loveliest thunder—more like percussion in a heavenly orchestra than cannonade and ordnance. I had never mustered the necessary energy to expulse that kind of force. My attempts always sounded more like the blast of a large pop gun. Another report rippled through the air, but it sounded wrong this time—a little too sharp and cold for something as organic as thunder. A third, angry blast proved the source was nothing harmonious with nature. The clamor had a cadence, a rhythm, and when I slid out of bed, the vibrations from it quaked through the stones under my feet. Boom! “1... 2... 3... 4....” I counted off a half-minute and—Boom!—another explosion. I counted a half minute again, which concluded with another detonation. My bedroom door flew open, and Gerda rushed in still wearing her rumpled nightgown. The braid she wore for sleeping had slackened during the night, and stiff rust-colored curls sprang around her face. Fear and worry crackled from her like static from a wool blanket. “Evie, my dear, you’ve got to get dressed.” She pulled me to my feet and yanked my sleeping gown over my head. “What’s going on?” I asked. “Gideon was just at my door. He told me have you out to the stables as quickly as possible.” “Did he say why?” “He did not, but I won’t be the one to contradict him. The look on his face was murderous.” “How is that different from any other day?” Boom! Gerda didn’t laugh, and that worried me more than the persistent racket. “What in the world is making all that noise?” I asked. “I haven’t had the time to look, but whatever it is, it can’t be good.” “I figured out that much for myself,” I said under my breath. If she heard me, she chose to ignore it and tossed me a pair of wide-legged trousers disguised as a skirt. I slipped them on while she scurried to unearth my boots. “I take it we’re not using the carriage?” “Gideon said you would be riding.” “What about you?” Gerda backed out of my wardrobe, wide rump first, and turned to face me. A stern expression hardened her face as she clamped her hands to her hips, and in a sharp tone said, “You are our main concern, Evie. Let’s get you safely away, and then I’ll worry about myself.” “Safely away from what?” Boom! Glass shattered in a room somewhere below us and the whole house shuddered. “From whatever is making that horrible clatter. Quit asking questions and get dressed!” Gerda rarely lost her temper, especially not with me. Her abnormal temperament stirred me into action. I wrestled a high-collared blouse over my head, buckled on a wide belt, buttoned up a short suede waistcoat, and laced up my favorite riding boots. She shoved me onto a stool beside my vanity and yanked my hair, forcing it into a tight braid. “Your hair’s straight as a stick and slick as a snake. I can never seem to weave it into a proper plait, even when I have plenty of time and my hands aren’t shaking.” “Forget it. I’ll twist it up like usual.” I reached back to take over the familiar routine, but Gerda smacked my hands away. “No, I’ve almost got it.” She grunted once and yanked again. I winced but had the sense to keep my protests to myself. “There.” She retrieved a ribbon from one of her ubiquitous pockets, wrapped it around the end of the braid, and double-tied the knot for reinforcement. “I don’t want any of it coming loose while you ride.” I reached back and patted the careful arrangement. “Thank you, Gerda. Now, you get dressed and we’ll go.” “No!” She stomped a stubby foot. “Gideon was clear. He only wants you. You must go. Now.” Another explosion rocked the floor, and Gerda stumbled against the wardrobe. She leaned on the heavy piece of furniture until she regained her footing. The house shook and groaned as something structural gave way. Yells and shouts carried up from the lower floors. “Are you going to meet us?” I asked. My heart raced, dancing a flittering beat. “Do you know where we’re going?” “I don’t, but Gideon will take good care of you.” Tears welled in my eyes, but the steely look on her face kept them from falling. “What will you do?” “I’m going to get dressed and gather up Stephen and our boys. We’ll be out the door a short bit after you.” “Then why can’t you go with me?” “Now’s not the time for whining, Evelyn. Be a good girl. Do as I say.” She used the same mother-hen tactics she had employed when I’d proved to be a tempestuous child. It set the proper tone to rouse me from my panic. “Hug me,” I said. “I’ll miss you.” She threw her thick arms round me and pressed me into her abundant bosom. “I’ll miss you too, my girl.” I inhaled her scent—a mixture of all the herbs in her garden, and especially comfrey, her favorite cure-all. She squeezed me again and broke away. “Gideon will keep you safe, if you’ll listen to him and not let your impetuousness get in his way.” She gathered my raw silk cloak from its hook by the door and tossed it at me. I snapped it from the air and swirled it over my shoulders. When the cloak caught a beam of sunlight streaming from the window, the fabric shimmered with rainbow swirls like a soap bubble. “Go now. Hurry.” Gerda yelled her final command over the screaming of tortured metal, as if a giant-toothed creature had bitten into the soul of the house. I hugged her again and dashed out the door. In the hallway, several of the house’s other occupants hurried past me in various states of dress. Tolick, the all-purpose houseboy, ran toward the stairwell. He had managed to button on his trousers but had neglected to remove his nightcap. On the bottom floor, I turned for the kitchen. The cooks had abandoned their breakfast preparations. A large porridge pot bubbled over on the stove, and thick strips of bacon burned on a griddle. A babble of excited voices drifted in from distant corridors, but no one came my way as I scurried toward the rear door of the kitchen. Beyond the exit, my route led me through Gerda’s garden, a sanctuary of herbs and vegetables protected by a stone wall enclosure rising high overhead. Thick vines of ivy and budding wisteria climbed the tops of those barriers. She would need to prune them soon, but we were all running, fleeing these familiar walls. Would we return before the ivy took over? Would the house survive long enough for it to matter? I ran past the garden’s iron gates and my breath puffed in thin, vaporous spurts. Spring had arrived less than two weeks ago, and the mornings still lingered in the recent days of winter. I pulled up my hood and wrapped my cloak tighter around me as a shield against the cold. At that moment, I could have turned around for an unobstructed view of my house, but that would have meant witnessing its destruction. The house cried to me, but what relief could I offer? A feeling of helplessness settled in my gut like curdled milk. Father would have known what to do, but I was merely his daughter, his masterwork left incomplete by an untimely death. I hacked a derisive cough at that thought. As if death ever comes at an appropriate time. Curiosity overrode my fear. I slowed, stopped, and turned on my heel. As I wheeled around and looked up, my heart plummeted to my feet. The house stood ablaze, smoke billowing from several of the first floor windows. Its wooden floors and beamed ceilings would surely feed the flames and turn the billows into a monstrosity of acrid, black plumes. The exterior might survive the fire—an ancestor had constructed Fallstaff from large granite blocks that had withstood tide and time for hundreds of years—but it wouldn’t survive the volley of explosive fodder from the trebuchet now installed on the front lawn. One of my father’s war manuals showed illustrations of that vicious machine, but I had never seen one in reality. Someone with a brain for engineering had rigged this one with a system of levers, pulleys, and gears. A steam engine automated its processes, and every few seconds a conveyer belt fed another iron missile into a waiting bucket attached to a long wooden arm. From this distance, the trebuchet looked like an assemblage of toothpicks and hungry metal teeth, yet its ammunition tore holes through Fallstaff’s stone and mortar like a moth devours a wool sweater. A group of men stood around its base, guarding the machine with rifles and crossbows. No one tried to engage them or fight back, as all were too concerned with escape. From that distance, they appeared as little more than stick figures. I stepped closer in hopes of recognizing their uniforms or gear. “Evie, what are you doing?” Gideon’s unmistakable bellow interrupted my thoughts. My father’s young horse master waited at the gate of the small paddock beside the stables, clutching two reins in his fist. One leather line led to his giant black stallion, Gespenst—a Dreutchish name meaning specter, or ghost. The other tether led to my horse, Nonnie, a gray-coated mare with a dappled rump. “Gideon, what’s happening?” I jogged toward him. Something exploded behind me, and the aftershock sent me stumbling, but Gideon’s free hand shot out and latched around my elbow. I locked eyes on his stoic face and refused to look back. “This is no time for an explanation,” he said. “Mount up, we’re riding south.” He tossed My horse’s reins in my direction and slid onto Gespenst’s back with an ease that demonstrated his familiarity with the saddle. Nonnie snorted and rolled her eyes, announcing her displeasure over the noise and brusque treatment she had inevitably received from Gideon as he’d arranged her tack. Nonnie and I managed most of our adventures on nothing more than wild oats and a few apples lifted from the larder. This journey would undoubtedly last longer than any we had taken in all our years together, and she must have felt some of the same trepidation as I. She stomped an eager hoof as I mounted, and when I nudged her forward, she fell into a canter behind Gideon and his horse. Gespenst bore saddlebags stuffed to the brim. The tip of Gideon’s compact repeating crossbow, Sephonie, poked from the edge of the flap. I thought of my own crossbow, which I’d never felt a need to name, and wondered if it had made its way into Nonnie’s packs. Gideon could take a stag from horseback with one shot; I could shoot a slow moving rabbit... if I had time to focus and plenty of solid footing. I had no idea where we’d go, but at least we wouldn’t starve on our way there.






Karissa and Bonnie


Karissa lives in North Carolina with her kid, her husband, the occasional in-law, and a very hairy husky named Bonnie. Some of her favorite things are coffee, chocolate, and super heroes. She can quote Princess Bride verbatim. She loves to read and has a sweet tooth for fantasy, sci-fi, and anything in between. Sometimes her husband convinces her to put down the books and take the motorcycles out for a spin. When it snows, you'll find her on the slopes.





Goodreads *** Facebook *** Website***Twitter***Pinterest



Source: snoopydoosbookreviews.com/release-day-heir-thunder-karissa-laurel
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url 2016-02-29 22:09
Blog Tour Stop for Midnight Marked by Chloe Neill with Interview, Review and Two Giveaways


***There is still time left to enter***






Today’s post is for Chloe Neill’s Midnight Marked. We will have info about the book and author. A great interview with Chloe, my review of Midnight Marked. As well as TWO great giveaways. Make sure to check everything out and enter the giveaways.

Happy Reading :)



Midnight Marked


A vampire’s grudges don’t stay dead long… Merit is one of Chicago’s most skilled vampire warriors; these days, she doesn’t scare easily. But she and Master vampire Ethan have made a new and powerful enemy, and he won’t give up until he owns the Windy City.

With his last plan thwarted, he’s more determined than ever to watch Cadogan burn. Ethan has put the House’s vampires on high alert, but their enemy will stop at nothing, including pitting vampire against vampire…

In this deadly game of cat-and-mouse, the stakes are life or death—and winning might mean sacrificing everything…





Will be available March 1st 2016







 Do you have any plans to maybe someday write a spin-off series or book of the Chicagoland Vampires series? About the Central North American Pack or any other characters? 

I have all sorts of ideas for new books and series, but nothing has been formalized right now.


 Which book was the most challenging to write in the series ?

That's a good question! Probably Friday Night Bites. I didn't know how to write when I sat down at wrote Some Girls Bite -- I just did it. I was under contract for Friday Night Bites, so the writing had a completely different -- and more terrifying -- feel to it.


What does your typical writing day look like?

I've opted to keep my day job, so I work during the day and write (or market, plan, outline, etc.) for usually 2-3 hours most nights. I might spend 6-8 hours on those types of things on the weekend. During the week, I'm in pajamas with my laptop, usually while Adult Swim is on television. On the weekends, I try to get out of the house, so I'll usually camp out at Starbucks for a while.


Which if any of your personality traits did you write into you characters?

None, at least not on purpose. I try to write each character as their own fully-fledged person. That said, I enjoy sarcasm and witty banter, so my characters tend to like it, too.




I was really looking forward to this book. But also saddened that it is the second to the last one. The Series is coming to an end after the next book. I really will miss the series, with all it’s up and downs though out the books.

That being said things are heating up and the stakes are higher than ever. Also some things are starting to wind down the closer we get.

I really enjoyed this book A LOT. Merit is stronger than ever and it is hard to believe that it has been only a year since she became a vampire. She grown quite a bit and in this book more than ever she knows who and what she is. To herself, Ethan the house and her family and friends. 

Ethan almost surprises me in every book with his action, that doesn’t mean always good though.  He had some truly too stupid to live moments in this book. Some things, I couldn’t believe I reading the things he done other moments I could not have been prouder of him. He really was up and down in this book but, it all came from a good spot and that is all the matters in my book. 

With all the fighting and wars brewing in the supernatural world it was no surprise that the house and the NAC pack face each other. Things are very tense between the pack and the house. On top of some other supernatural groups.

The tension between Merit and the RG comes to a full blow. Things are finally getting resolved, I’m not saying whether in her favor or not. The same goes for Jonah and her and some things come to light about him .

A new magic is in this book and I really enjoyed it even if it was terrifying. Also a new, they meet a new person with a different power than they knew liked her but would have like to see more of her “power” made being useful to the case.

But maybe we see more of her and her power in the next book.

Page and the librarian are also a bigger part in this book, and we learn more about both of them.

Merit’s father also becoming a bigger part in the overall story and I really like where it is going, although, I’m really not a fan and trust him just yet.

Catcher and Malory were absolutely awesome in this book. I think it is great how far Malory has come after her “dark “period.

I’m not 100% sure of the ending of the book of course it is a cliffhanger …of sorts. But also it all seemed wrapped up and all the sudden BOOM and all hell breaks loose. Also it is very clear that it will be continued in the next book, which is the last and I’m curious to see how it ends. But also like to see the rest of the series and being wrapped up nicely and not seemed rushed or forced.

Over all it was a great book, with the usual snark , romance . Action and twist and turns on every page.

I rate it at 4 ½★


Some of my favorite quotes:

“Will Catcher throw a fit if he loses?” I asked. He was the generally grouchy type. I liked him very much.

“Catcher thrives on moderation and reasoned action.”

I snorted.  “And Ethan is humble and operates the house as democracy.”

“So we’re both full of shit.”


“I’m fine,” he said testily. “You stepped in front of me.”

“I will always step in front of you. You named me Sentinel.”

“In the larger scheme, not my wisest decision.”             


“ He gave you an alphapology.”

“What now?”

An alphapology. The apology made by the alpha male, which isn’t really an apology, but more a reason for insane behavior. Catcher does it all the damn time. Drives me up the wall.”


“The print media are generally positive. The Internet is the usual mix of praise, condescension, idiocy, and trolls.”  He glanced at his computer. “And, at my last check, four marriage proposals for my sentinel.”

My mood brightened, and I leaned toward the desk trying to see around to the screen. “Really? Any good candidates?”

“I don’t find that amusing.”








Chloe Neill is the New York Times bestselling author of the Chicagoland Vampires Novels, the Devil's Isle Novels, and a YA series, the Dark Elite. Chloe was born and raised in the South, but now makes her home in the Midwest. When she's not writing, she bakes, works, and scours the Internet for good recipes and great graphic design. Chloe also maintains her sanity by spending time with her boys--her husband and their dogs, Baxter and Scout.










Like I mentioned above there are TWO giveaways. One which is the Grand Prize Giveaway will be on Chloe's site. The prizes for that are:

Engraved Cadogan House medal pendant

Lou Malnati’s Tastes of Chicago package, featuring hot dogs, pizza, and cheesecake

$25 Amazon gift card

Tote bag containing Chicagoland Vampires and Devil’s Isle Swag

 You can enter for it on Chloe's Site here.


The prizes for the second one are:

Cadogan House mini-pennant

Cadogan House tote bag

Swag, including bookmarks Cadogan House key-chain

 You can enter the second giveaway right here with the Rafflecopter below.

Good luck on both giveaways :) 


a Rafflecopter giveaway





Week One


Monday, February 22 – Booklovers for Life | Snoopy Doo’s Book Reviews

Tuesday, February 23 – Fallen for Books | The Book Whisperers

Wednesday, February 24 – Bad Bird Reads | Wild Wordy Women

Thursday, February 25 – StarCrossed Book Blog | Rantings of a Reading Addict

Friday, February 26 – BiblioJunkies | Love Laughter Foreverafter



Week Two


Monday, February 29 – Rabid Reads | The World of Francesca Tuesday,

March 1 (Release Day) – Goldilox and the Three Weres | Saucy Wenches |Literary Escapism | Vampire Book Club | YA Reads Wednesday, 

March 2 – Consummate Reader Thursday, 

March 3 – Urban Fantasy Investigations | Fangirls Read It First Friday, 

March 4 – Paranormal Haven | My Paranormal Kink

Snoopydoo sigi

Source: snoopydoosbookreviews.com/3419-2
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url 2016-02-29 22:08
Release Day for Cowboy Strong by Kelli Ireland with Excerpt and Giveaway

***There is still time left to enter***




KelliReleaseday final  


Happy Book Birthday to Kelli Ireland for Cowboy Strong :)

We will have info about the book and author, a great excerpt from the book, plus a great giveaway. Make sure to check everything out and enter the giveaway.

Happy Reading :)







Going Down Fighting

Ty Covington likes to keep things as uncomplicated as possible. By day, all that matters to him is his horse and winning in the rodeo ring. At night, all he wants is a deliciously hot, no-strings affair with his rival, Kenzie Malone. Then everything changes in one heart-stopping split second.

The accident should have killed both Ty and his horse. Instead, they’re both on the road to a hard recovery—but only thanks to Kenzie’s family connections and fortune. Which means he owes her. He owes a woman who is both everything he despises and his deepest desire. As need—hungry and demanding—takes them both over, Ty knows that this time, uncomplicated isn’t an option. And this cowboy always pays his debts…





Buy Links 


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THE NIGHT WAS passing slower than any Ty could remember. The second hand on the clock ticked and paused, ticked and paused, seemingly searching for the energy to tick again. He tossed and turned, went down to check on Gizmo, then went back up to his hotel room to toss and turn again. He needed to blow off a little steam, and sex was his preferred method. And his mind was locked on one particular redhead, a woman he’d had numerous times but never could get out of his system. It wasn’t as though Ty was actually into exhibitionism. He’d just wanted to push the fringes of experience and try something new, and she’d always been safe—as well as seriously fun—to play with. And bless the powers that be, darling Kenzie hadn’t balked. His pulse quickened. Hell, if anything, she’d asked him for more. But he hadn’t been certain how much “more” was wise in the barn. He’d also had a fleeting moment of insecurity, wondering if she’d want more of what he’d offered just then or more of him in general. The former he could provide, and gladly. He’d always liked women, had always been insistent that everyone left satisfied. But him offering more than what the moment afforded all parties? No. That type of “more” had never been on the table. Ever. His rolled over and punched his pillow. Earlier, the competitors had drawn for their bracket positions, and he’d drawn third out of fifty riders. It was a crappy pick. He’d have much preferred to ride somewhere between thirtieth and thirty-fifth so he knew how hard to push Gizmo and how much showmanship was required to keep his horse in the top ten while still preserving enough energy to really clean up if he was called to a tiebreaker. Flopping onto his back, he stared at the shadowed ceiling. Insomnia sucked. Bad. Insomnia alone sucked worse. He really needed some feminine company to get his mind off all the people who’d be watching him and Gizmo, both live and on TV. The pressure of those anticipated stares grew heavy in the silence, then heavier still, until he thought he might not be able to draw a breath due to the weight on his chest. The bedcovers tangled around his feet as he lurched upward. He got his feet underneath him, shoved his room key in the pocket of the complimentary robe before tugging it on and then grabbed his cell as he headed for the door. He hit 6 on speed dial and waited as the call connected. When she answered, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Why are you calling me—” covers rustled and her jaw cracked as she yawned “—at one thirty in the morning?” Thoughts of her in bed, her lithe body clad in little…or nothing…made him adjust his robe for better coverage. “What room are you in?” “You’re looking for a booty call from the wrong woman. I’m sleeping.” “You lost the wager.” He spoke so fast his words ran together. Silence. “I beat you at regionals, so I entered nationals with a points lead. Means I get my fantasy fulfilled first,” he pressed. “We aren’t on the boards yet.” Her cautious tone worried him, made his response sharper than he’d intended. “Actually, we are. I went to check on Gizmo and Indie earlier tonight, make sure they were settled, and end-of-season scores have been posted.” “Well,” she mused, “I suppose that puts you on top of me.” His cock kicked hard enough there was no hiding it. Thankfully, the hallway was empty. “On top’s not where I want to be.” She chuckled, the sound sleep-heavy, sultry. “You realize that if I beat you here, I’ll top you in points and earnings for the year.” His brow creased. “No. Just until the next rodeo season starts.” “Not by your logic. You’re saying you get to have your fantasy tonight because you’re ahead in points in a competition that hasn’t started. Well, this exact same competition won’t start again until December next year, so I could feasibly be ahead of you in points until they post next year’s regional totals on the nationals boards. Same thing you’re doing, just building out the timeline.” His mouth went dry and he stopped, resting his shoulder against the wall. “You’re making me think this was a bad idea.” “Good or bad, it was your idea, Tyson,” she said softly. “Room 1134. Show up and own it, or hang up and don’t. But make up your mind in the next five minutes or I’m going back to sleep and I won’t answer after that. Not the phone, and definitely not the door.” The line went dead. If he showed up now, he’d be accepting the fact that she was right—his terms had been pretty broad and rather unclear. If she beat him, could she, would she, want to see him for the next year? That would take this thing between them outside of their established bounds of competition romps. Make it more than an occasional tryst. As in…dating. The idea didn’t repel him, and that alone should have been enough to turn him right around and have him back in his room before he lost what was left of his mind. He decided not to give the thought too much attention, though, so he pushed off the wall and resumed his trek toward the elevator bank. He reached the elevators just as one opened and dumped off a group of highly intoxicated bridesmaids supporting one barely conscious bride. To a woman, they looked him over as if he were the best thing they’d seen all night. While he wasn’t entirely comfortable with it, he still smiled and flirted a little before stepping into the elevator car and winking at them as the doors closed. It was, after all, what anyone who knew him would have expected of him. He punched the button for the eleventh floor and ignored the way his belly dipped as the car started its upward climb. Because he knew with the kind of certainty that discomfited a man that the belly drop had nothing to do with the elevator and everything to do with the woman in room 1134.





160130 Me

Kelli Ireland spent a decade as a name on a door in corporate America. Unexpectedly liberated by Fate’s sense of humor, she chose to carpe the diem and pursue her passion for writing. A fan of happily-ever-afters, she found she loved being the Puppet Master for the most unlikely couples. Seeing them through the best and worst of each other while helping them survive the joys and disasters of falling in love? Best. Thing. Ever.

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Source: snoopydoosbookreviews.com/3307-2
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url 2016-02-12 22:26
Lexington Reads 2016: Art of the Heist
Hot Art: Chasing Thieves and Detectives Through the Secret World of Stolen Art 1st Edition by Knelman, Joshua (2012) Paperback - Joshua Knelman
Tokyo Heist - Diana Renn
Chasing Vermeer - Blue Balliett
William & the Missing Masterpiece - Helen Hancocks,Helen Hancocks

The theme (Art of the Heist), book selections and kids' alternate activities have been announced for the annual event.

Source: www.carylibrary.org/lexington-reads
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