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review 2017-12-03 16:57
Keeping the Moon
Keeping the Moon - Sarah Dessen

Just read if you want to read all the Dessen books. Otherwise, skip it. The book abruptly ends and there's no real closure to Colie's slightly frayed relationship with her mother. One good thing I will say is that I enjoyed Isabel and Morgan's relationship/friendship.

 

Colie is sent to stay with her Aunt Mia for the summer. Her famous mother is traveling and Colie is shuffled off for the summer. You may initially get the impression that Colie's mother doesn't care, but she does. We just don't get a lot of time getting to know them much cause Dessen drops tidbits here and there and jumps around.

 

We find out that Colie is having a hard time at school and that rumors about her have caused her to hide herself. Meeting Morgan, Isabel, and Norman slowly has her coming out of her shell. I do say though I'm not a huge fan of suddenly a girl being "gorgeous" by getting her hair done, eyebrows plucked, and makeup being applied. I think ultimately Dessen wants young girls to read this and realize they are beautiful no matter what. She kind of negates all that with the reveal about Isabel though making it seem that when you get older,you automatically are going to be a beauty.

 

The character of Mia is pretty much ignored, no real depth there. I'm surprised Colie at least doesn't bring up how hard her and her mother's life was while I was sitting on money. Most of this book felt like things were left unsaid.

 

The book is fairly short. Probably why I felt like a lot of things were left undone. I would have liked some scenes with Colie back home, dating, standing tall against her tormenters.

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text 2017-12-03 16:04
Reading progress update: I've read 100%.
Keeping the Moon - Sarah Dessen

I forgot to update this yesterday when I finished. Not that interesting I'm afraid. I feel like Dessen forgot a 1/3 of the story. 

 

I think if we had more of a sense of the main character it would have worked better. Instead we have her reflecting on her past in fits and starts and starting to realize over this summer she is attractive. I just needed more. There's also the fact the book just comes to a sudden end. 

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text 2017-12-01 20:25
Reading progress update: I've read 20%.
Keeping the Moon - Sarah Dessen

Ehh not engaging. It's okay. Just can see it will not be my favorite Sarah Dessen.

 

Image result for obama shrug gif

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text 2017-11-28 07:03
Release Day - Not Broken Anymore

 

Blurb: Football is everything, but love is the only game that matters.

Tate Durham, the newest Philadelphia football hottie, has been in love with Gia Capri since the moment he laid eyes on her back in college. Unfortunately, that happened the same night her destructive and doomed relationship with the troubled Matt Lampert began. Tate didn’t stand a chance. 

In the year since Matt took his own life, Gia’s been sleep-walking through her days and just barely surviving her nights. She’s not sure that she’s capable of anything else . . . until Tate finds her sitting on the floor of a grocery store, crying over potato chips.

Tate’s patience and honesty begins to heal what’s broken in Gia’s soul. Still, no matter how hard he tries—or how much he loves her—making her whole again might take more than he can give.

But love never gives up. And neither will Tate.

 

 

Buy Links:

Amazon ~ iBooks ~ Kobo ~ Nook ~ Google ~ Books2Read

 

 

#99cents Keeping Score Boxed Set:

 

https://books2read.com/KeepingScoreBoxSet

 

 

 

 

 

“So . . . no pressure, either outright or implied, right?” I spoke slowly, feeling my way. “You won’t push me, and you won’t . . . I don’t know, look at me or touch me in ways that could be construed as pressure?”

 

I expected Tate to agree readily, but he hesitated. “I don’t know if I can promise that. I’ll do my best not to gaze at you soulfully, and I’m not the kind of guy to mope around after anyone, but I can’t say you might not see what I’m feeling in my eyes. Can’t help that.”

 

I laughed a little. “You know, dude, if you were any other man, when I asked why you were here, you would’ve just fed me the friends-only line. I might not have bought it, but it would have given us both plausible deniability.”

 

Tate rested his chin on his hand and smiled serenely at me. “I’m not any other man.”

 

For a solid moment, I felt electricity crackle between us, and I couldn’t breathe. This was new, this hyper-awareness of another person, and I didn’t know quite what to do with it. I stared at Tate as my brain scrambled to figure out what to say or do next.

 

And then he sighed, breaking the spell.

 

“Ready for dessert?” He pushed back his chair and reached for my plate, carrying both his and mine to the sink. I cleared my throat and attempted to find normal again.

 

“Dessert? Need I remind you that we ate the cannoli several hours ago, when you claimed we hadn’t eaten lunch, and you were on the verge of starvation? Or did you buy a cake when I wasn’t looking? Or are you planning to whip something up in the next twenty minutes?”

 

Tate quirked his eyebrow at me over his shoulder. “Twenty minutes? Does that mean you’re tossing me out at nine?”

 

“No.” I shook my head and played with the spoon still in front of me. “It was just a figure of speech.”

 

“Good to know. But to answer your question, no, I didn’t buy any baked goods, and I’m not going to toss something together now. Nothing I have to bake, that is.” He rinsed off the scrubbed the plates with my new dish brush and set them into the drainer before turning to the fridge. “C’mon, woman. On your feet. This is something you can help me with.”

 

I stood up, watching as Tate withdrew the berries he’d bought. Dumping them into the colander, he washed them carefully before picking up the cutting board he’d used earlier to chop the potatoes.

 

“I’ll slice these if you’ll handle the whipped cream.” He reached for a knife.

 

I frowned. “We didn’t get any whipped cream.”

 

“Sure, we did.” Tate opened the refrigerator again, this time emerging with a small milk carton in his hand, which he set down on the counter in front of me. “Here you go.”

 

“Just what am I supposed to do with this?” I saw the words on the container. Heavy whipping cream clearly meant that whatever was inside the cardboard could somehow be transformed into the frothy goodness I loved, but I had no earthly idea how to go about making it happen.

 

“You’re going to whip it.” He winked at me. “Whip it good. I’ll get you started.”

 

I watched him moving around the kitchen, and I thought again how odd it was that such a large man could have such grace. I was willing to bet that it came from playing football, where I imagined his talent for maneuvering probably paid off.

 

Within a few moments, I had a small metal bowl, the brand-new electric hand mixer, a bag of powdered sugar and a bottle of vanilla laid out before me. I surveyed all of it with undisguised suspicion.

 

“Now pay attention, because this is tricky. Here’s the hardest part: dump the cream into the bowl.”

 

I rolled my eyes. “Ha, ha, ha, Mr. Smarty Pants Chef Guy. I think I can manage that.” I slid my thumb up the small crease and deftly opened the cardboard carton. The cream was thick and velvety as I poured it into the bowl. “Now what?”

 

“Plug in the mixer, submerge the beaters in the cream, and turn it on. Move it around a little now and then. And that’s pretty much it.” He turned back to his cutting board, slicing the tops of some luscious-looking red strawberries.

 

Gingerly, I dipped the shiny silver beaters into the liquid and used my thumb to move the switch to on. The small machine sprang to life, whirring in my hand. I held the bowl with my other fingers, staring into it, waiting for magic to happen.

 

A few minutes later, I was still waiting. “Tate, this isn’t working. It’s still just, like, cream.”

 

“Uh huh. Give it a little longer.” He didn’t even bother to look at me over his shoulder.

 

“But it isn’t changing. It’s just swirling around and around.” I raised my voice, in case he didn’t understand how serious this was. I was ruining the whipped cream.

 

“Yep, that’s how it works.” His voice remained serene and unconcerned.

 

I kept it up a little longer. “I think we must’ve gotten defective cream. It’s still all liquidy. Or maybe I messed it up.”

 

“The only way you can mess it up is if you whip the cream too long and it turns into butter. I don’t think you’re in danger of that yet.” He finished cutting up another berry, and drying his hands, stepped over to check out my work. “Okay, turn off the mixer for a minute, and then add some sugar and vanilla.”

 

I did as he instructed, resting the edge of the mixer against the side of the bowl. “How much?”

 

“Eh, two or three tablespoons of the powdered sugar and a couple of teaspoons of vanilla.”

 

I was troubled by his lack of precision in measurements. “Two or three? Which is it?”

 

Tate sighed. “Start with two. We don’t want it too sweet, just sweet enough.”

 

“All right.” I flipped through the measuring spoons he’d bought today and found the right one before I carefully measured the sugar into the bowl. Next I poured two precise teaspoons of vanilla. “I did it. Now what?”

 

“Back to whipping.” Tate used a paper towel to gently dry the blueberries. “Just incorporate all of that into it.”

 

Setting my jaw, I got back to work, peering intensely at the whirling white that was threatening to hypnotize me. The cream made a pretty design as it ran through the beaters, and it reminded me a little of snow. As a matter of fact, it almost looked like . . .

 

“Tate!” I flicked off the mixer again. “It worked! It’s thickening. Look!” I stood back so that he could see into the bowl without moving away from his spot at the cutting board.

 

“Excellent. I knew you could do it. Now keep it up a little longer. It’s not quite ready yet. But watch it, because too long there and it really will turn into butter.”

 

“Huh.” I squinted down, nearly afraid to look away in case what was in the bowl might suddenly betray me. “Does it honestly happen that fast?”

 

“Nah. I mean, hypothetically speaking, if you had a stand mixer, and you were whipping cream, and you got distracted doing something else while it was mixing, and you forgot to check on it for a while . . . then yeah, it’s a possibility. But you’re on it.” He scooped all of the berries into a round glass bowl and moved over to stand closer to me. “I think you’re good now. See how it’s forming nice peaks?”

 

I did see, and I felt an unaccustomed surge of pride. “I did it. I can’t freaking believe it, but I made whipped cream.”

 

“Yes, you sure did.” He swiped one finger into the cream and stuck it into his mouth. “Mmmmm, and you got the flavor right, too. Just sweet enough.” Before I could protest, he stuck that same finger back into my bowl again.

 

“Hey! Yuck! No double dipping. You’re going to ruin my masterpiece.” I scowled up at him.

 

“But I wanted you to have a taste, too.” So saying, he held up his whipped cream-covered finger a few inches from my lips. “Don’t you want to try it?”

 

My heart thudded a little. I hadn’t done anything like this . . . touched my tongue to any part of any man . . . for a long time. I swallowed and resisted the urge to fan myself. The kitchen was all of a sudden much warmer than it had been.

 

With a deep breath, I closed my eyes and lifted my mouth to his hand, closing around the creamy goodness. The second the flavor hit my tongue, I forgot all about how it got there.

 

“Oh . . . my . . . God.” I moaned the words. “That is amazing. So much better than the stuff I get in the can.”

 

“The real thing always is better.” Tate’s voice was hoarse, and he slid his finger out of my mouth. As I watched, he turned his back to me, busying himself with pulling out two small plates and a couple of forks. I wondered what I might have seen in his eyes if he hadn’t turned away. I wasn’t sure I’d have been able to deal with what whatever might have been there.

 

“Grab a spoon for your, uh, masterpiece, and let’s eat.” He lifted the berries on the cutting board and set the whole thing down on the table. “Serious conversations make me hungry.”

 

I rolled my eyes. “Is there anything that doesn’t make you hungry?”

 

Dragging out his chair, he shot me a wicked smile. “That’s for me to know and you to find out. And lucky girl, you’ll get to find out, because as long as you’ll let me, I plan to spend as much of my free time with you as possible.”

 

 

*** CLICK HERE for Spotify Playlist for Not Broken Anymore ***

 

 

 

 

Author Bio:

 

Tawdra Kandle writes romance, in just about all its forms. She loves unlikely pairings, strong women, sexy guys, hot love scenes and just enough conflict to make it interesting. Her books include young adult and new adult paranormal romance, new adult and adult contemporary romance and adult paramystery romance. She lives in central Florida with a husband, kids, sweet pup and too many cats. And yeah, she rocks purple hair. 

 

Author Social Media Follows:

Facebook/Twitter/Instagram/Pinterest/Google Plus/Website/Newsletter

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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text 2017-11-02 08:10
Book Blitz - Keeping The Faith

KeepingTheFaith_BlitzBanner

 

Title: Keeping the Faith

Series: Faithfully Yours, Book 3

Author: A.M. Leibowitz

Publisher: Supposed Crimes

 

Cover Artist: Stacy O’Steen

Release Date: November 1, 2017

Romance Genre(s): Contemporary, M/M

Words: 84,000

 

View on Goodreads

 

 

KeepingTheFaith

 

Blurb:

 

 It’s been three years since Micah’s spouse, Cat, passed away at the age of thirty-six. In the process of cleaning his house, Micah discovers a series of letters Cat hid before he died, in which he made one request: that Micah empty his life of Cat as a way of moving on. Micah has been able to work through his sorrow, but he’s unable to fulfill Cat’s last wish. He can’t see a way past his loneliness despite all the caring people around him.

 

Enter two new friendships. Jude, Micah’s vivacious new coworker, brings joy back into his life. But she has a big secret about her family, and the truth will rock Micah’s understanding of who she is. Chris, the new minister at Cat’s former church, intrigues Micah. Unlike Jude, Chris is an open book, from his musings on theology to his work as a trans advocate and activist. His gentle manner and deep faith become safe space for Micah to open up about his loss.

 

Through them, Micah becomes involved with the town’s new community center, where he offers a creative writing class. Using Cat’s detailed letters, he fictionalizes their love story to share with his students. In doing so, he at last begins to sort through his complicated grief. Micah learns he doesn’t have to erase his life with Cat in order to make new memories. He may even be falling for Chris, despite their vastly different spiritual views. With a little help from family and friends, Micah will need to open his heart to love again.

 

 

Excerpt:

 

After flipping through an album of Cat’s early childhood, Micah put that in the growing pile next to him and lifted out the letters.

 

These were different. They were written more recently. Micah went through the envelopes, his mouth dropping open in surprise. Cat had written them all during the time after he’d become ill. He’d known then he was dying; it had been his choice not to take drastic measures to alter the course of his long illness. It had taken five months almost to the day for him to finally acquiesce to the effects of multiple organ failure on his body. The final month had been agony, and Cat hadn’t been lucid enough in that time to compose any more letters. The last one was dated about five weeks before he died.

 

The only thing left in the trunk was the small box. Micah took it out and examined it. The box was metal and had a lock, but there was no key. Micah searched the bottom of the now-empty trunk, but there was nothing inside. He shook the box and heard the items rattle. There might be a way to pick the lock, but he wasn’t any kind of expert.

 

Micah opened the first letter. Inside, he found the key to the lock box and a folded piece of paper. He withdrew both and set the key on top of the box. Slowly, he unfolded the letter and read the greeting. He only got as far as Dearest Micah when he let the paper fall from his fingers. His immediate urge was to shove it back into the envelope and never open it again nor any of the others.

 

His head swam; he wasn’t ready for this. What secrets was Cat going to reveal in death that he hadn’t shared in life? It was as though Cat spoke his name right from the page, and it tore open the wound of his death. Micah’s eyes burned as he struggled to hold back an ocean of raw grief. Unable to continue for the moment, Micah let it take him, covering his face and sobbing.

 

It took a moment for him to realize that something was nudging him, and he fought to regain control. Opening his eyes, he found Thomas in his lap, trying to press close to Micah’s chest. Thomas’ head rubbed under Micah’s chin, and the cat purred. The rumbles soothed Micah, and his crying slowed. He took a deep breath.

 

He could do this. He could read Cat’s letters and not fall apart. Cat had trusted him to do so eventually, and Thomas was here to comfort him. Micah wiped his eyes and nose and picked the letter up again.

 

Buy Links:

 

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Smashwords | Kobo

 

AMLeighbowitz

Author Bio:

 

 

 A.M. Leibowitz is a queer spouse, parent, feminist, and book-lover falling somewhere on the Geek-Nerd Spectrum. They keep warm through the long, cold western New York winters by writing about life, relationships, hope, and happy-for-now endings. Their published fiction includes several novels as well as a number of short works, and their stories have been included in multiple anthologies. In between noveling and editing, they blog coffee-fueled, quirky commentary on faith, culture, writing, books, and their family.

Connect with A.M. Leibowitz:

 

Website | Facebook | Facebook Author Page |

Twitter | Pinterest | Instagram | Google Plus

 

 

Giveaway:

 

To celebrate the latest release from A.M. Leibowitz, 3 lucky entrants will win an eBook bundle of all four titles in the Faithfully Yours series, which includes the following:

  • Passing on Faith
  • Walking by Faith
  • Leaps of Faith
  • Keeping the Faith

For your chance to win, simply enter via the Rafflecopter below. The giveaway closes at midnight EST on November 10, 2017, and is open to entrants worldwide. Good luck!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

 

Tour Stops

 

November 1:

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words
Drops of Ink
Stories that Make You Smile
Books, Dreams, Life

November 2:

BFD Book Blog
Romance Novel Giveaways
***Kitty's Book Spot***
Wicked Faerie's Tales and Reviews

November 3:

Happily Ever Chapter
My Fiction Nook
The Layaway Dragon
CelticLady's Reviews

November 4:

Boys on the Brink
Liz's Reading Life
Making It Happen
Loves Great Reads

November 5:

Abibliophobia Anonymous
I Heart Reading
Bayou Book Junkie
Anna Butler - Love That's Out of This World

 

 

Tour Hosted by LoveBound Promotions

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