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review 2018-02-26 21:57
Sizzler!! Adult Content
Dirty Therapy (A MFM Ménage Romance) (Th... Dirty Therapy (A MFM Ménage Romance) (The Dirty Series Book 1) - Tara Crescent

Dirty Therapy by Tara Crescent is a fairly short read, perfect for those with limited reading time.  It is a M/F/M menage book though, so it may not be for everyone.  Ms. Crescent has delivered a well-written book.  The characters are fantastic and lovable.  Mia finds her fiance of two hours having sex with someone else.  Ben and Landon are sex therapists.  Their story is packed with drama, humor, smokin' hot sex and a bit of suspense.  I enjoyed reading Dirty Therapy and look forward to reading more from Tara Crescent in the future.  Dirty Therapy is book 1 of the Dirty Series but can be read as a standalone.  This is a complete book, not a cliff-hanger.

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url 2018-02-21 06:28

This is the signature blog of Malini Chaudhri covering favored book reviews on Goodreads, her personal narrratives on the inspiration behind her works and her authors interviews and her blog posts.


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review 2017-09-22 18:28
We Met in Dreams
We Met in Dreams - Rowan McAllister

“Yesterday in the park, I was feeling quite sorry for myself. I sat on that bench for a long time, trying to dredge up the strength to return to my empty apartments. Then an angel dropped in my lap, invited me to tea, and kissed me, and ever since I’ve been struggling to believe my luck. I feel as if I’m in a dream, and at any moment, I’ll wake broken and alone again.”


This book is the perfect blend of paranormal, mystery, historical fiction and romance.  Just an absolutely beautiful story that kept me on the edge of my seat; kept me continuously wondering who to trust, what to believe and how this would end.  And none of it was as I suspected which made the journey that much better.


I adored both these beautiful men and how they each became the angel the other needed to see through their darkness and see light and happiness awaiting them with each other.


And the visual descriptions of this manor, the period dress and the glimpses into London were perfectly captured for me. I was left mezmerized. 


Thanks Marco for the recommendation...truly one to follow.

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text 2017-09-21 05:52
Tree Therapy, Indian Summer - Facebook vignettes


Tree Therapy

Most days I get ahead of the morning. I’m up and busy with the mindless tasks that paradoxically fill my mind. It’s good to be engaged, interested, anticipating the challenges and rewards of the day unfolding.


Then there are days I awake anxious and for no particular reason. I don’t indulge these moods but despite my best efforts they prevail. I become disconcerted and irritable. Little things seem difficult, difficult things seem insurmountable.


On days like these I’m more keenly aware of intolerance and bigotry, of ignorance. I despair at people’s motives and am appalled by their actions. Frustration gives way to anger, gives way to cynicism, gives way to a feeling of hopelessness.


I’m running out of optimism. I know for a fact that everything is not going to be all right.

I would surrender, but to whom? I would retreat, but to where?


Nothing constructive or creative will happen until I shake this pall of despondency. I gear up and head out.


Even as I approached them my mood begins to lift.


The Maples of Kensington. Eight stately giants – so huge, so proud, so magnificently impersonal.


These are Bigleaf Maples (Acer macrophyllum), the largest of the Maple family perhaps 300 years old, maybe 50 metres high. Being tightly clustered they have developed a narrow crown supported by a trunk free of branches for about half its length.


I stand beneath them, I press my palms against their bark, I take a deep breath and listen.


And they speak to me.


High in their lofty branches the leaves rush and whisper and their sound soothes and reassures. Slowly their benign energy renews my confidence and restores my vitality. The desolation passes, and I feel unburdened, at peace and prepared.





Indian Summer


The summer had inhaled
And held its breath too long*


A strange mood ascends on me as summer slowly draws to an end.


The days have a listless quality, time seems suspended. There’s a feeling of deja vu – though not of an experience, rather an emotion, a dream sense, vague and inarticulate.

It’s like a lost memory – tinged with warning.


It’s about ending – something good, something sweet and easy. It’s about something approaching – new, different, challenging. The anticipation of change sends a ripple of foreboding, but I feel resigned, accepting.


One afternoon I find myself at Trout Lake, the local swimming hole.


When I was a kid the entire family would walk here from our home on East 4th. Sometimes I’d go with my neighbourhood buddies. It was a different world then, no structured play dates, we roamed free seeking and finding adventures. Most of these people are gone now, yet standing on the shore I can hear their happy voices, catch glimpses of them splashing into the green water.


This lake was witness to many rites of passage and figures prominently in my writing. The beach is small and less crowded than I remember. The raft I nearly drowned trying to swim to is not so far. Could it possibly be sixty years since I swam here?


Suddenly I’m enveloped in a sense of longing for a phantom life that almost was, but never will be.


I run across the hot sand, splash through the shallows and dive in.


The water is cool, slightly murky, exactly as I remember it and for brief seconds it washes the years away. I kick hard, go deeper, then roll over. Up through the depths the sun sparkles, shards of diffused light. I’m eight years old until I break the surface and look back to shore.


They’re gone.


And I’m still here.




*From Coming Back to Me, written by Marty Balin,
On Jefferson Airplane’s Surrealistic Pillow, 1967


Stay calm, be brave, watch for the signs



Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B003DS6HEU

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