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Thursday, January 21, 2016
Ohuhu Oscillating Sprinkler, 3600 Square Feet
I live in Florida and I my yard is 1 acre of cleared space. I have to have sprinklers if I want anything to grow. I haven't gotten to use it but once so far since we are in the middle of winter, but it worked great. It is partially plastic but it still seems to be very strong and sturdy. I love that it has different settings for the types of sprays. I really like that the oscillating part is also adjustable. So I can set it against the fence in one place and I don't water the neighbors yard for them. This is very easy to grab onto and drag where ever the hose will allow you to go. It also comes with a nozzle cleaning plug. Great for our yard. Loving in Florida there is tons of vegetation and bugs that can find a home anywhere and put a kink into any kind of works.
I received this product for free in exchange for an honest and unbiased review.
Shot Glass - Nurses Need Shots Too by Make Em Laugh
My daughter the nurse loved this shot glass when I gave it to her. Not only is she a nurse but she also collects shot glasses. So that made this one an even better gift for her. The shot glass is made of glass. The glass is very thick and well made, I didn't notice any bubbles in the glass or other things that sometimes get into glass giving it imperfections. The painting on the glass is on very well and did not scrape off at all with my nails. This shot glass also hold 2 ounces, not 1 1/5 like many others. I have gotten other glassware from MakeEmLaugh in the past and all of it has been very high quality, and I love their sayings.
I received this product for free in exchange for an honest and unbiased review.
tour for the Stone Legacy Series by Theresa DaLayne
Stone Legacy Series Overview
Genre: Mature YA
Their empires have fallen, but their mythology lives on…
Zanya Coreandero is a seventeen-year-old orphan with only a single friend and no hope for a normal life. The only home she’s ever known is the isolated institution—where breakfast is a handful of medications, the psychiatry sessions are mandatory, and her every move is watched.
When Zanya is kidnapped, she meets a group of gifted Mayan descendants, each with a unique ability. Gone from a nameless castaway to the only hope of mankind, Zanya is forced to make a grueling decision: bond with an enchanted stone and save humanity from rising underworld forces, or watch helplessly as Earth falls victim to a familiar dark deity from her dreams. This time, he’s playing for keeps.
A wicked secret hides behind a handsome face…
When Arwan, a dark-eyed timebender, takes interest in Zanya's mission, it's unclear if his intention is to help, or if he's on a hell-bent mission for revenge. Wary of falling for another guy with major secrets and a tainted past, Zanya fights to keep her distance. If only her heart gave her a choice.
With the approach of an ancient bonding ceremony, Zanya struggles to control her abilities—and her desires.
As the winter solstice approaches, it brings an onslaught of unexpected side effects. While Zanya battles to seize control over her supercharged powers, she must also face an overwhelming suspicion that her new boyfriend, Arwan, is hiding a secret so dark it could destroy them both. And with her powers finally taking root, pacing their relationship becomes even more of a challenge.
Just when she thought life couldn’t get more complicated…
With the arrival of a surprise houseguest, Zanya’s deepest fears about Arwan are confirmed. And when middleworld deities intercede, the group of gifted Maya descendants are confronted with hardships they never saw coming—including an enemy more deadly than they have ever faced.
When the heavens, middleworld, and underworld collide, an epic battle for power threatens the existence of mankind. Their survival rests in the hands of Zanya and her new, enchanted family. But when a final secret turns her world upside down, her stone, family, and future aren’t the only things she’s destined to protect.
Mayan Blood
Stone Legacy
Book One
Theresa DaLayne
Their empires have fallen, but their mythology lives on…
Zanya Coreandero is a seventeen-year-old orphan with only a single friend and no hope for a normal life. Diagnosed with anxiety and night terrors, no one believes her cuts and bruises are a result of an evil entity, and not a brutal case of self-harm.
With the only home she’s ever known being the isolated institution—where breakfast is a handful of medications, the psychiatry sessions are mandatory, and her every move is watched—the only relief is her red-haired roommate named Tara, who’s more like a little sister than her best friend.
Free will is strong, but destiny is stronger.
When Zanya is kidnapped, she meets a group of gifted Mayan descendants, each with a unique ability. Gone from a nameless castaway to the only hope of mankind, Zanya is forced to make a grueling decision: bond with an enchanted stone and save humanity from rising underworld forces, or watch helplessly as Earth falls victim to a familiar dark deity from her dreams. This time, he’s playing for keeps.
A wicked secret hides behind a handsome face…
When Arwan, a dark-eyed timebender, takes interest in Zanya's mission, it's unclear if his intention is to help, or if he's on a hell-bent mission for revenge. Wary of falling for another guy with major secrets and a tainted past, Zanya fights to keep her distance. If only her heart gave her a choice.
Goodreads
Book Two
Theresa DaLayne
Tara may have spent years in an asylum, but that doesn’t make her crazy–just fearless.
Dropped in Moscow with a the group of enchanted Mayan descendants, seventeen-year-old Tara is forced to wait on the sideline while her best friend—the Stone Guardian— battles to reclaim a friend’s soul trapped in the underworld.
It sucks being ordinary when everyone else is superhuman…
A mortal girl with a tainted past, Tara is left to deal with an overwhelming sense of inadequacy. Her boyfriend, Peter, is a healer. Her best friend is The Guardian, and everyone else is a powerhouse of awesome strengths. Meanwhile, she struggles to leave her childhood of abuse in the past, and while Peter picks her up every time she falls, it becomes clear he deserves better.
When they opened Pandora’s Box, hell came pouring out…
When she’s given a chance to aid in the group’s mission, Tara is eager to pull her own weight, even if it means uncovering buried memories of being held prisoner by the underworld general. Now haunted with flashbacks of torture, Tara wanders from the safety of Peter’s arms into a city of depravity and corruption. And amidst all this evil is a young man with an agenda of his own, who leads her down a road that will either prove she is a hero at heart, or drag her into a world she’s always feared.
He wants revenge, she wants redemption. And in an underground ring of missing girls and bloody sacrifices, only the fearless can survive…
Goodreads
Lights of Aurora Stone Legacy
Book Three
Theresa DaLayne
After living her entire life in an orphan asylum, Zanya fears she may actually be losing her mind.
Following the discovery of her ancient Maya bloodlines, eighteen-year-old Zanya Coreandero is faced with a daunting responsibility. She must protect the relic stone while Sarian, the underworld general, ceaselessly drives her to the brink of insanity.
With the approach of an ancient bonding ceremony, Zanya struggles to control her abilities—and her desires…
As the winter solstice approaches, it brings an onslaught of unexpected side effects. While Zanya struggles to seize control over her supercharged powers, she must also face an overwhelming suspicion that her boyfriend, Arwan, is hiding a secret so dark it could destroy them both. And with her powers finally taking root, the struggle to pace their relationship takes on a life of its own.
Just when she thought life couldn’t get more complicated…
With the arrival of a surprise houseguest, Zanya’s deepest fears about Arwan are confirmed. And when middleworld deities intercede, the group of gifted Maya descendants are confronted with hardships they never saw coming—including an enemy more deadly than they have ever faced.
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. And when that woman has no soul and a taste for revenge, they will need the powers of every surviving ancestor simply to stay alive.
Goodreads
Anarchy
Stone Legacy
Book Four
Theresa DaLayne
Jayden’s heart may have stopped beating for good when he was rescued from the underworld, but it can still break…
After an ancient Mayan ceremony goes horribly wrong, Jayden is left to face reality—the girl he once loved is pledged to another. At his breaking point, he steals a cab to leave behind the group of enchanted descendants, this time for good.
When Hawa—a beautiful but lethal acquaintance—decides to call shotgun, his only choice is to take her along for the ride.
He’d be glad to have the company…if it were anyone but her. He only knows her by occasionally sharing a hallway in Renato’s huge estate in Belize. It’s clear she has a perma-chip in her shoulder, and they have absolutely nothing in common. So he thinks…
With no cash and nowhere to stay, Hawa leads him into the heart of Guatemala City to an abandoned hotel of orphaned kids. As more of her tainted past is revealed, an unwelcome memory reappears in flesh and blood, threatening to break her wild spirit.
A mysterious orphan is the only one standing between him and the new queen of hell…
Modem, a spunky twelve-year-old girl with a knack for computers, seems to be keeping her eye on Jay. When his abilities go rogue and pull him back to the underworld, Modem shows she’s more than meets the eye. And as everything spirals out of control, Contessa proves no realm is out of reach…
Goodreads
About the Author:
A long-time enthusiast of things that go bump in the night, Theresa began her writing career as a journalism intern—possibly the least creative writing field out there. After her first semester at a local newspaper, she washed her hands of press releases and feature articles to delve into the whimsical world of fiction.
Since then, Theresa has been married, had three terrific kids, moved to central Ohio, and has been repeatedly guilt-tripped into adopting a menagerie of animals that are now members of the family. But don’t be fooled by her domesticated appearance. Her greatest love is travel. Having traveled to over a dozen countries—not to mention an extended seven-year stay in Kodiak, Alaska—she is anything but settled down. Wherever life brings her, Theresa will continue to weave tales of adventure and love with the hope her stories will bring joy and inspiration to her readers.
Author website: http://www.
FB: https://www.facebook.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/
Wednesday, January 20, 2016
Virtual Name Before the Masses Tour for Black Crow White Lie by Candi Sary
Black Crow White Lie
by Candi Sary
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
GENRE: Adult-YA Crossover
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:
Young
Carson Calley has a rare and magical gift of healing, a gift which both defines
him and threatens to betray him. He lives in Hollywood motels with his
alcoholic, fortune-telling mother, Juliette. She nurtures his gift, but her
ways are deceptive. She feeds the boy fantastical stories to convince him of
his greatness. At fourteen, Carson finally wises up to her lies and his
identity is completely shattered. Juliette is too deep in her addiction to help
him separate the facts from the fictions, so he looks for answers on the
streets of Hollywood. There he finds Faris, a tattoo shop owner, and Casper, a
cashier at a head shop. These two unlikely mentors help this troubled yet
extraordinary boy find his way to the truth.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt:
“Putting my hands over her head I felt the tiny stars that
always came. It felt like thousands of them came pouring out of my hands. I
couldn’t see them with my eyes; I could only see them with my eyes closed. But
I could feel them. They filled my hands with heat, and when I shared them with
my mom, they made her feel better.
I don’t remember the first time I used the stars, just like
I don’t remember the first time I used my voice. When I asked my mom how I got
them, she said I just knew I had them in me—the same way I knew I had words in
me.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Candi Sary
graduated from the University of California, Irvine. Her awards for Black Crow
White Lie include 1st Place in the Dante Rossetti Awards, winner of the Reader
Views Literary Award for the West-Pacific, and first runner-up in the Eric
Hoffer Award for fiction. Her novel was also adapted into a short film by Chase
Michael Wilson. She lives in Southern California with her husband and two
children. She can often be found surfing out in the waters of Newport Beach.
Short film
trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zoD7KICbNYY
Instagram:
@hers_for_the_reading
Blog post: What made you decide to become a writer?
When I was little, books brought out the same excited feeling inspired by toy stores, birthday parties, or even Disneyland. Before I was five, I begged adults to read to me so that I could experience the stories I wasn’t yet able to read on my own. Then in kindergarten, my teacher taught me how to decipher the combination of letters and make out the words for myself. It was like magic! I’d been given a key to unlock the mysteries of the written word. It felt like I’d come into some kind of special powers. I still remember the feeling, and even at that young age, it was quite profound. Along with learning to read the words, we learned to write them. That was when I realized I too could be a storyteller—a bookmaker. And so my mom bought me a typewriter and I spent hours alone in my room making small books that I trimmed and stapled and presented to my mom as if I were already an author.
I kept journals throughout my school years, and that remained my connection to writing. The dream of putting stories into books again didn’t come back until I was around 25, a young mother at home with two babies. Having just graduated from college, the experience being at home mothering was quite a contrast to my days of learning at the university. My mind craved more intellectual stimulation. My solution was to go back to my old love of writing. It was something I could do while at home, and since it had always been my dream to write books, it felt like the perfect opportunity to start. I knew it could take years to write a novel, and I also knew it could take many novels to get any good at the craft. And so at 25 I set out on my writing journey. Almost 20 years and 6 practice novels later, my novel Black Crow White Lie was published.
The journey has been rewarding yet frustrating, inspiring yet heartbreaking, magical yet grounding. The highs and lows were at times extreme, but it gave my life meaning. When I struggled with understanding why people do what they do, I explored it in a novel and clarity came. When I felt overwhelmed by worry in my own life, I took myself into my characters’ minds and it had a way of calming me. Writing novels has not only been my way of expressing myself to the outside world, it has also been my way of making sense of life inside my own mind.
There is a quote in Black Crow White Lie where Carson says, “Most people live a whole lifetime without knowing their purpose. Some take years of searching and barely figure it out in their adulthoods. I was the exception, the fortunate child who was clearly handed his life’s purpose at the age of ten. I was born to be a healer.”
And I believe I was the fortunate child handed my purpose at the age of five. I was born to be a writer.
Candi Sary will
be awarding a $15 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter
during the tour.
Forged in Fire by Juliette Cross Blitz
Book Title:Forged in Fire
Author:Juliette Cross
Genre:Paranormal Romance
Release Date:January 27, 2015
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
She never knew this demon world existed. Now she just wants to survive it.
Genevieve Drake never needed a man to come to her rescue. Not until the night of her twentieth birthday, when some dude nearly chokes her to death in an alley behind a New Orleans Goth club. And a hot stranger splits the guy in half, rips a monster from inside, and incinerates it into ash.
The hunky rescuer? Jude Delacroix—Dominus Daemonum, Master of Demons, now her guardian, whether she likes it or not. But she’s seriously beginning to like it.
Her would-be murderer turns out to be only the first of many minions of the demon prince, Danté, who has all kinds of lascivious and sadistic plans. Which means when the formidably beautiful Jude offers his protection, Genevieve has no problem accepting it.
For Jude and his fellow demon hunters tell her she is a Vessel, one who is born to serve the Light, but can be corrupted into a weapon of darkness. And to survive, she must trust a man whose unearthly eyes promise heaven…but whose powers unleash hell.
Warning: Contains a dark and brooding demon hunter who harbors even darker secrets, a snarky heroine who’s being hunted by every demon in the underworld, and a sadistic demon prince with a fancy for violent sexual encounters.
To say I wasn’t terrified, as well as mortified for spying, would be a complete and total lie. Still, I held my ground, moving out of Malcolm’s arms and pushing my chin up a notch. I was getting good at acting. I fleetingly wondered if I should switch my major to Drama, or maybe Politics.
Then he was there. Whoa. Way inside my personal space. And Malcolm’s. Jet eyes staked me to the spot.
“Do you have a death wish?” His voice grated against my skin like sandpaper.
Malcolm pushed himself into the conversation. “Dude, excuse me. What are you doing?”
Malcolm made a hands-off gesture. He went to push Jude away but caught the look of death in Jude’s eyes and stopped himself. Holy hell! What was I thinking? I’d brought Malcolm up here based on my own selfish desire to get some answers and now I might be responsible for his untimely demise. I could see the headlines now in the Times Picayune: Twenty-year-old Student Spontaneously Combusts into Pile of Ash, Source of Death Unknown.
“Answer me, Genevieve. Why are you here?”
“You know this guy?” asked Malcolm, trying to cut in on the staring contest passing between us.
“We were just taking a walk,” I said, trying to keep my voice from quivering. “This is—”
“Lie.”
“Jude, seriously, I was just—”
“Do you have any idea how dangerous this place is for you?” He made a sound in the back of his throat that could’ve been a laugh if it weren’t for the expression of rage warring across his face. He glanced at my jacket with a shake of his head. “Little Red comes wandering in the woods infested with wolves.”
He was so close now our toes were touching. I inched back a step.
“Hey, dude! I don’t know who you are,” began Malcolm, putting an arm between us, “but you better back off.”
Jude fixed a glacier-melting gaze on Malcolm, standing at least a head taller. I swallowed, but there was no moisture in my throat. How had I gotten Malcolm into this?
“Kid,” Jude annunciated softly and slowly, a sure sign all hell was about to break loose, no pun intended. “You may remove yourself and go back home now. Alone.”
He sounded as if he’d just dismissed Malcolm back to his playpen, an errant child being put in timeout.
“What?” Malcolm lowered his arm and turned to me. “You know this asshole?”
“Yes. Malcolm, um, this is a friend of, um, my dad’s. A work associate. From the dojo.”
I was stammering like an idiot. To say he was a friend of mine would’ve been laughable. Though he only appeared to be in his late twenties, he exuded maturity on so many levels. He in no way looked like a friend I might know from school, and for being a good liar, my brain was misfiring at the moment and not helping me come up with anything better.
Jude did not extend his hand in greeting. He did not welcome the introduction. He did not move an inch. As a matter of fact, I felt his presence swelling beyond the miniscule area where we stood, like a colossus breathing down on the pitiful people beneath his feet. He in no way appeared cordial or polite or even remotely human, for that matter. I had to get rid of Malcolm before this became seriously ugly. I put myself between them, pushing Malcolm gently back.
“Thank you for the beignets and the company, but Jude can give me a ride home.”
“I’m not letting you go anywhere with this guy,” he protested.
Wrong answer. I heard another scoff behind me that was supposed to be a sort of laugh but wasn’t.
“I’m sorry, Malcolm. This is my fault. My dad is kind of strict. There’s been trouble with the family business and stuff. I’ll let Jude take me back home.”
When did I become such a huge liar? Trouble with the family business? Was I embroiled in the mafia now? Malcolm didn’t know my dad, except from a distance. For all he knew, he could’ve been in the mafia. And Jude more than looked the part of the assassin. I insinuated in my tone there were things I couldn’t say, because of course there were.
“I’ll explain to you later, I promise. I’ll call you tomorrow?” I added lower, squeezing his hand.
Malcolm put his hands on my shoulders. I swear I felt two points of heat boring into the back of my skull. I wondered then about my “sixth sense.”
“Are you sure, Drake?”
I nodded. He pulled me into a brisk hug, then let go, giving the man over my shoulder a hard stare. I watched as he marched back toward Jackson Square, descending the stairs with one last scowling glance over his shoulder.
Taking a deep, shaky breath, I turned to face the executioner. I didn’t speak. Just waited. He was doing that thing where he appeared to be dissecting my thoughts, observing every line on my face, trying to solve a riddle that perplexed him. Flinty shards of gold sparked in his eyes. A shot of relief washed over me. Any fraction of light in those obsidian depths was a good sign. Or so I thought.
“Why are you here?”
His voice had lost its edge. Well, let me clarify, the razor-sharp edge that could slice an oak into splinters. There was still the blunt steel swinging in slow, even strokes, threatening to cut me if I made a wrong move. I glanced toward the sculpture. She was gone.
“Who’s Goth Barbie?”
His head tilted slightly to the left. His eyes narrowed, still glinting with golden stars.
“She’s a friend,” he finally responded. “Who’s Schoolboy Ken?”
He evaded, a special talent he possessed by the butt load. Two can play that little game.
“He’s a friend.”
Jude smiled. A genuine smile with teeth and everything. My heart stuttered with the sudden shift in mood. His gaze traced the contours of my face, hair, shoulders, lower.
“At least you had the presence of mind to cast illusion. When did you discover you could use your ability?”
“Huh?”
Oh. I was pretty sure that was what the “warm blanket” was, but now I knew for certain. I felt it skimming along my skin, draping me from the inside out.
“Just now. It happened automatically, actually.”
“Not automatically. Subconsciously. Your Vessel instincts are kicking in to protect you since your brain has apparently taken a leave of absence.”
“Excuse me? Did you just call me stupid?”
“Stupid would imply you have no intelligence whatsoever. I am well aware that you are quite clever, so I would define this as either rebellious or apathetic behavior. Which is it?”
I made a disgusted sound, while smiling inside at his backhanded compliment.
“What is it exactly I’ve done to warrant the label of rebellious or apathetic?”
“You’re standing in the middle of demon hunting ground. This den of debauchery lures demons for hundreds and hundreds of miles. You are a Vessel, a prize above all prizes for a high demon. The illusion you cast would certainly fool a lower creature, but not one in the upper hierarchy. So either you are being rebellious in disobeying me, or you are simply indifferent to keeping your soul intact. Which is it?”
I felt the blood drain from my face. Maybe I was stupid. No. But I wasn’t being rebellious or apathetic about my well-being. My green-eyed feline lifted her head with wide eyes to remind me why I came, but I glared at her to keep her hissy mouth shut.
“Okay, you said to not go out alone. I wasn’t alone. Malcolm was with me.”
Did he really just roll his eyes at me?
“You might as well have been stripped naked, hanging from a balcony on Bourbon Street and screaming ‘Come and get it.’ That boy could have done nothing if you were spotted by any form of Flamma.”
Now that was an image I didn’t want in my head. I was slightly disturbed it was in Jude’s. Switching gears quickly, thank you very much.
“Well, you didn’t explain any of this to me. Perhaps if you were more forthcoming in explaining all of these rules I’d make better decisions,” I said, feeling the color coming back into my cheeks.
“You are right about that. I will certainly be outlining the rules more clearly so you’ll not misbehave in the future.”
“Misbehave? Who do you think you are? My overprotective brother? Never had one. And I don’t need one now.”
He moved even closer. I started to step back. A strong arm shot out, gripping the top of my shoulder. His thumb pressed gently along the side of my neck over the cuff of my denim jacket. Surely he felt the quickening speed of my pulse. Was that his intention?
“No. I am not your brother. Nor do I want to be. However, I am your protector, whether you would choose me or not. If you value your life, or at the very least, your eternal soul, then you must trust me and do as I say.”
Speechless, I nodded, unable to think clearly for the moment. His thumb continued to stroke my skin. I can’t begin to describe how distracting that was.
“Good.” His gaze slid to my lips. I wished he wouldn’t do that. Or maybe I wished he would. Often. My thoughts spiraled in a million directions, unable to move in any coherent way. I tried to cut the tension crackling between us.
“Demons have a hierarchy? Like a class system?” I was aware I was nearly whispering, my questions sounding feeble and irrelevant.
“Yes. There is a hierarchy in heaven. There is a hierarchy on earth. There is a hierarchy in hell. That is the way of the world—every world.”
“I don’t know the difference between a lower and a high demon. You’ve told me little about them, except for the fusing thing.”
He nodded in agreement. Small victory, but victory nonetheless. He still hadn’t pulled away. His thumb trailed down over my collarbone. Since the moment he touched me, a pervasive warmth had slipped in over my own protective blanket, draping down over my chest and limbs.
“So, Little Red wants to play in the deep, dark woods,” he mumbled almost to himself. Creepy metaphor. “Let us go straight to the wolf ’s den, then.”
His hand dropped to mine, swallowing it whole. The mantle of electric warmth continued to spread, sealing to my body like a glove. It didn’t feel suffocating. On the contrary, the sensation comforted me like a cozy fire in the dead of winter.
Jude pulled me toward the stairs. I took two steps to his one. “Wait, where are we going?”
“I had an appointment tonight. You might as well come with me. Actually, this turn of events will be quite enlightening.”
He gave me a wicked grin. The sudden image of a mischievous child dangling a minnow over a shark tank popped into my head.
“What kind of an appointment?” I didn’t like the sound of this.
“As you said, I have not been as forthcoming as I should’ve been,” he said in an obvious tone of mockery, leading me across Decatur along the left side of the Square.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Evasive bastard.
“Smile. You are about to get many answers to many questions. I am going to introduce you to a high demon.”
Juliette is a multi-published author of paranormal and urban fantasy romance. She calls lush, moss-laden Louisiana home, where the landscape curls into her imagination, creating mystical settings for her stories. From the moment she read JANE EYRE as a teenager, she fell in love with the Gothic romance--brooding characters, mysterious settings, persevering heroines, and dark, sexy heroes. Even then, she not only longed to read more books set in Gothic worlds, she wanted to create her own.
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