Tuesday, February 25, 2020

I Know When You’re Going To Die by Michael J. Bowler


BOOK CHARACTER PARTY INVITE
By Michael J. Bowler

Given that I write books for teens or middle graders, my party invite list would include famous literary youth because it would be fun to see them interact with one another. It would also be fun to pick their brains about the stories each inhabited and what some of their feelings are about the choices they made within those stories. 

Here’s my list, along with one question I would ask each child (though I’d have many). 

Oh, and if you’re wondering why there’s only one girl on this list, it’s because growing up I mostly read books with boy protagonists because, well, I was a boy.

1. Huckleberry Finn (from Adventures of Huckleberry Finn)– Did you ever find out that helping Jim wouldn’t damn you to Hell because you were actually doing the right thing? If so, how did that make you feel?

2. Peter Pan (from Peter Pan) – At any point in your long life, did you ever regret not growing up? If so, when and why?

3. Mowgli (from The Jungle Books) – After living with humans once you turned seventeen, how often were you tempted to go back to the jungle and stay with the animals? Why?

4. Scout (from To Kill a Mockingbird) – What would you ask Boo Radley if you could talk to him again?

5. Bastian (from The Neverending Story) – What did you learn about yourself from your experiences using the Auryn in Fantasia?

6. Jim Hawkins (from Treasure Island) – How strongly would you defend John Silver in court should he ever be arrested for piracy, and what would you say in his defense?

7. Ralph – (from Lord of the Flies) – What happened to you after the rescue?

8. Billy (from Where The Red Fern Grows) – If you could do things over again, would you still enter your dogs in the raccoon hunt? Why or why not?

9. Gavroche – (from Les Miserables) – Did you ever suspect that the two boys you took in were actually your younger brothers?

10. Pip (cabin boy in Moby Dick) – What was Captain Ahab’s personality like, based on your experience with him?


I Know When You’re Going To Die
Michael J. Bowler

Genre: YA Suspense/Thriller

Publisher: Michael J. Bowler, Author
Date of Publication: Release date 2/25/2020
ISBN: 978-1-7333290-0-2
ASIN: B07Z48BHH4
Number of pages: 212
Word Count: 81K
Cover Artist: Streetlight Graphics

Book Description:

Leonardo Cantrell is a painfully shy sixteen-year-old who cannot look people in the eye. One night while he’s volunteering at a homeless shelter, an old man forces eye contact and gives Leo the power to see Death.

His best, and only, friend—J.C. Rivera—thinks this new power is cool until Leo accidentally looks into J.C.’s eyes and “sees” his murder, a murder that will occur in less than two weeks. Stunned and shaken, the two boys sift through clues in Leo’s “vision” in a desperate effort to find the killer and stop him before he can strike.

Aided by feisty new-girl-at-school, Laura, the boys uncover evidence suggesting the identity of the murderer. However, their plan to trap the would-be killer goes horribly awry and reveals a truth that could kill them all.

Amazon      BN       Apple Books      Kobo


Excerpt:

The door to the dorm is open and I step in. It looks like a huge barn with a worn hardwood floor studded with row after row of folding cots. Since it’s dinnertime, all the cots are empty except one.
An old man with surprisingly alert eyes lies atop that cot staring at me. Most of the older people who frequent the shelter have rheumy eyes, always moist and often clouded, because they’ve struggled for so long on the street, and maybe because they have alcohol or drug problems.
“Come here, boy.” His voice is raspy and echoes faintly in the cavernous room.
At first, I don’t recognize him. True, there are hundreds of homeless on the streets every day, but I’ve been volunteering on Skid Row since I was fourteen and after almost three years, like I said, I know most of them. I’m  thinking  that if this guy is a regular, he’s passed under my radar.
And yet…
I have seen him, I think. Not here at the shelter. Walking to my car…?  Yes!  Several times over these past two or three weekends, I’ve noticed him.  He’s caught my eye because, every time, he’s stared at me so intently it made  me shiver. He’d be pretending to rummage through a dumpster, but his eyes would follow me until I got into my car. I confess his gaze made me uncom- fortable, but I let it go. I’ve learned to shrug off such creepy feelings because   so many of the people I meet down here have mental health issues.
I steel myself and walk between the rows of empty cots—each with its  neat bedroll awaiting an occupant—and stop before the stranger  with  the scary eyes. Unlike most of the people, his clothes aren’t especially dirty and he doesn’t smell like someone who’s been on the streets for a long time. Wisps of gray hair stick out from his head at haphazard angles and his face has so many wrinkles I don’t think I could count them if I tried.
I don’t make eye contact, but that’s because I never do. Not here, not anywhere. People tell me I’m the definition of “shy” and they’re right.
“You asked to see me, sir?” I say deferentially, my gaze on his gnarled hands.
He rolls over onto his back. “I been watching you, boy. Seen you on the streets a lot.”
I freeze. So, I didn’t imagine it! “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” The voice sounds like sandpaper scraping along a fence. “Rich boy like you helping out poor folk like me. What gives?”
I’ve been asked this question by all my relatives, so I’m ready with my answer. “I think people like me who are lucky to have a lot should help people who don’t. And I hope I’m making the world better instead of worse. The kids  I know just party and think about themselves all the time. I don’t want to be like that.”
A crooked smile cracks the wrinkled face. “You’re the one, all right.” “The one?”
With effort, he unclasps his hands with their swollen knuckles and holds his right arm out toward me. It shakes, like he barely has enough strength to keep it aloft. “Take my hand, boy.”
Unlike my best friend J.C., who never touches any of the people when he comes with me to the shelters, I usually have no worries about contact. But I hesitate this time. I mean, this guy has been watching me on the streets. But kindness makes me swallow my anxiety and I clasp his hand. He squeezes gently.
“Look into my eyes.”
Ordinarily, I’d just glance into his eyes and then look away. But that com- manding tone compels me. I raise my eyes and focus on his. They’re brown  and alert and they shimmer beneath the overhead lights. We  lock gazes, and     I stiffen. Something I can’t quite pin down swells within me, like a surge of emotion. I suddenly feel… different.
All the tension drains from his face in an instant. Relaxed, he releases my hand, pulling his arm back with great deliberation. He rests both hands across his stomach and gazes up at me with obvious gratitude.
“Thank you, boy. Now I can die.”
I shudder. “Wha-what do you mean?”
The man offers a gentle smile. “I gave you a great gift, boy. Or maybe a curse. Had it so long, I can’t be sure no more. But I couldn’t die till I passed it on.”
I stand frozen in place, my heart thumping, my breathing on hold. A gift?
A curse? “Uh, pass what on, sir?”
He chuckles and it’s a wheezy sound, like he doesn’t have much air in his lungs. “Just you calling an old bum like me “sir” proves you be the one.”
I feel different inside and his words scare me because I know he’s done
something to me. “I’m just a regular kid, sir. Nothing special.”
That chuckle erupts again, wheezier this time. “Oh, you’re more than a regular kid. Like you said, most kids only care about stupid crap like partying. You’ll  use my gift well.” He lapses into a coughing fit that scares me even  more.
“Want me to get some help?”
He waves away the idea with one hand. After a few moments, the hacking ceases. “No need. It’s  my time.” He suddenly looks really pasty and gray in   the face. “When you find someone worthy, boy, pass on the gift to them,” he whispers, his voice very soft and almost inaudible. He closes his eyes and lies still. “Until then, make wise choices.”

Then he stops breathing. Literally, just stops. One second his chest is ris- ing and falling and then the next, there’s nothing. I want to shake him back to life and ask a thousand questions, but instead I run from the room to get help.
About the Author:


Michael J. Bowler is an award-winning author who grew up in Northern California. He majored in English/Theatre at Santa Clara University, earned a master’s in film production from Loyola Marymount University, a teaching credential in English from LMU, and a master's in Special Education from Cal State University Dominguez Hills. Michael taught high school in Hawthorne, California, both in general education and to students with learning disabilities. When Michael is not writing, you can find him volunteering as a youth mentor with the Big Brothers Big Sisters program and raising his newly adopted son. He is a passionate advocate for the fair treatment of children and teens in California, and hopes his books can show young people they are not alone in their struggles.









a Rafflecopter giveaway

Monday, February 24, 2020

Playlist for Echoes from the Veil by Colleen Halverson #Playlist


Hello! I’m here to promote my new release Echoes from the Veil from Entangled Publishing. This is Book 3 in my Aisling Chronicles Series. Echoes from the Veil is a fast-paced romance fantasy where the half-fae heroine must travel through time and defeat an evil Celtic Goddess to save her boyfriend from her clutches—and the world from total destruction.

I use music when I write to get into a mood, and sometimes I’ll hit a song on repeat just because it’s the perfect flow and rhythm for a scene. That’s why you might find Missy Elliot next to a mournful traditional Irish song because one is great for a fight scene and another might be good for a kissing scene. Stars were a big theme in this book, and that’s why I have “Starboy” and “Across the Universe,” but I think the opening Halsey song really encapsulates the spirit of this book. I hope you enjoy!

You can find the Playlist on Spotify.


Echoes from the Veil
Aisling Chronicles
Book Three
Colleen Halverson

Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Entangled
Date of Publication: Feb. 24th 2020
Number of pages: 305
Word Count: 88K




Tagline: Love is Always Worth Fighting For

Book Description:

Aisling Elizabeth Tanner is now the leader of the Faerie rebellion. Facing the end of the world, she will have to find the strength to lead the Fae to victory against the threat they face, or risk losing everything, including Finn, whom she’s come to love more than life.      

Warrior Finn O’Connell wants nothing more than to fight by Elizabeth’s side. But an ancient Celtic goddess threatens to take charge of his soul, and he will have to wage a war within himself to save the rebellion from disintegrating into chaos.         

Betrayal leads them into the Fae Underworld, where Finn discovers his greatest sacrifice might be letting Elizabeth go—forever.



Amazon     BN     iBooks     Kobo     Entangled
Excerpt:

Finn turned on his heel and he practically tackled me against the bed, showering me with hard kisses on my lips, my neck, my chest. I dug my fingernails into his back, willing him to stay pinned to me. I lifted my hips, taking in his strength, his heat. I would have defied a thousand goddesses to keep Finn there, his body a shield against the cold creeping into the cave as night fell.
His arm slipped behind my neck as he shifted above me, nestling me in the hollow of his shoulder. “Let’s not think about it.”
I let out a long exhale, burying my nose in his chest. “I know. I can’t help it.”
“If the Morrígan comes for me, we shall deal with it then,” he said. “One battle at a time.”
I nodded.
He stretched and pulled me up from the bed. “You smell like Fir Bolgs.”
“I do not!” I made to punch him in the arm, but his quick reflexes had me spinning. He pinned my hands and pulled me against him.
“Fir Bolgs and horse,” he whispered in my ear. “Mmmm…so sexy…”
I elbowed him in the gut, and he grunted.
I marched away from him, my arms crossed against my naked chest. “And speaking of battles, don’t lecture in me in the middle of one again. I’m not your Padawan.”
Finn’s mocking grin turned to a grimace. “A what?”
“Star Wars?” I raised my eyebrows. “Jedi Apprentice?”
He blinked.
I rolled my eyes. “Just hand me the damn sponge so I can clean myself up.”
Finn frowned and walked over to the small tub we kept handy for bathing. He lifted the sponge out from the bath and squeezed it, his knuckles flexing as all the water ringed from it. His eyes lowered to the ground, and he walked over to me, clasping my hand in his.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“For what?”
“For mansplaining, or whatever it is you call it.” He ran the sponge across my wrist, tiny rivulets of water and dirt falling down my arm. “You are not my Pad— Pa—”
“Padawan.”
“Right.” He ran the sponge across my shoulders, and a small moan escaped my lips as he applied slight pressure to my sore muscles. “I’m used to giving orders, not receiving them. And I…” He hesitated, his hand lingering on my waist.
“What?” I said in a soft voice.
“It’s hard for me to see you put yourself at risk. Like today with the wagon, and how you—”
“Finn,” I said in a warning tone.
“I know.” He ran the sponge down my back, my body trembling at the seductive motion.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it.” He planted a kiss between my shoulder blades.
I didn’t know if I would get used to it, either. The killing, the fighting. The first time I killed a Fir Bolg during a raid, I couldn’t eat for a week. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I still remembered the way my spear pierced his skin, how the blood had poured from the wound in his side. I’ve killed since then, but I would never stop thinking of that first one. Who was he? What was his name? Would someone mourn for him? But it had been either that Fir Bolg or me, and in this war, that was a fundamental truth I could not escape.
I turned to face Finn. He stood half naked, the edges and planes of his incredible body as chiseled and fine as a marble statue. I reached out to brush my hand against the small hairs on his pecs, tracing a line down to his emerging erection. He was insatiable lately, as if fucking me silly could somehow win this war. It was a constant undercurrent of our lovemaking. He accepted me as leader, but I knew he struggled with the risk, our mortality always one breath away from a stray bullet. Finn had one setting—protection. It didn’t matter if it was the Fianna soldiers he once led or me, his lover. Even then, I knew the unspoken truth of his heart, how he secretly wanted me safe in a tower, alone and waiting for him. But the rebellion would never wait, nor would liberty from the Fir Bolgs’ extremism. No one else could lead us to a real and equitable peace. As heir to Tír na nÓg, I was it. He had to get on the Xena-Warrior-Princess party wagon or find another girlfriend.
He reached for me, his eyes darkening. “I don’t know if I want to get used to it.”
I lifted my gaze to meet his smoldering stare. “I don’t think I can get used to your righteous BO, but I’m trying to make it work.”
“BO?”
“Body odor?” I waved my hand beneath my nose. “I’ll have to pick up some deodorant next time I’m mortal side.”
He cracked a wide smile and pulled me close to him. Before I could wrestle away, he lifted his armpit and put me in a headlock. “BO? That’s the smell of a fighter, princess!”
I squealed, falling in a fit of laughter as I tried to wrench myself away. I loved his smell. Sweaty, leathery, strong, and pure man.
“I can’t breathe!” I made pretend gagging noises. “Oh, god, get some soap, for the love of—”
He wrapped his arm around my waist and, seemingly defying the law of physics, flipped me into his arms, cradling me like a child. He rubbed his thumb down the side of my cheek, lingering on my bottom lip.
“I love you,” he said.
I arched an eyebrow. “Even though I stink?”
He nodded. “Especially because you stink. I love the smell of you. All of you. All of it.” He pressed his lips to mine, and I clutched his face with both hands, moaning as his tongue flicked against mine.


About the Author:


As a child, Colleen Halverson used to play in the woods imagining worlds and telling stories to herself. Growing up on military bases, she found solace in her local library and later decided to make a living sharing the wonders of literature to poor, unsuspecting college freshmen. After backpacking through Ireland and singing in a traditional Irish music band, she earned a PhD in English with a specialization in Irish literature. When she’s not making up stories or teaching, she can be found hiking the rolling hills of the Driftless area of Wisconsin with her husband and two children. She also writes as C.B. Halverson.










a Rafflecopter giveaway

Wednesday, February 19, 2020

Emerging Butterfly by Constance G. Jones




Emerging Butterfly
Constance G. Jones

Genre: Non-Fiction, Memoir
Publisher: Beautiful Sky Publishing

Date of Publication:  1213/2020
ISBN: 978-1-7338439-0-4
ISBN: 978-1-7338439-1-1
ISBN: 978-1-7338439-2-8
ASIN: B07YNTZJB8
Number of pages: 245
Word Count: 65,132

Cover Artist: mycustombookcover.com

Tagline: Survive the darkness of the cocoon and you will emerge into the light of day.

Book Description:

Raised in San Diego in the 1980s, Constance was born to be a Californian dreamer. The fourth of nine children in a poor, dysfunctional family, she grew up with three demons in her household: alcohol, abuse, and absence. She buried her dreams in the dark cocoon of her childhood. As a teenager, an accident upended her world and cursed her with epilepsy for the rest of her life.

Entering adulthood, Constance hoped she’d left the worst behind her. Instead, toxic relationships, misguided spiritual teachings, and close calls with death nearly broke her.

But Constance discovered curses can hide blessings in their inner layers. Instead of breaking, she chose to break free, realizing her heart could sprout wings to take her in the direction of her wildest dreams…

In a mesmerizing memoir that is by turns heartbreaking and heartwarming, writer and philanthropist Constance Grays Jones retraces her precarious journey towards truth, love, community, and self-discovery. Tackling issues of epilepsy, depression, infertility, and family drama with refreshing sass, humor, and compassion, she reminds us that we are products of our past but also the creators of our purpose. Her inspiring story is a wakeup call for the soul, showcasing the tenacity of the human spirit, the pockets of sunlight in the darkest corners, and the transformational power of belief and love.




 Excerpt:

It is remarkable how lonely you can feel even when constantly surrounded by people. It is eerie how life is dictated by luck—the luck of which family you are born into. I had friends who had stable households, loving parents, families who always made time for them, normal siblings, and access to ballet lessons, summer camp, and nice clothes. I, on the other hand, lived in the heart of chaos. I felt neglected, unseen, and forced to grow up fast. I’d tried running away a few times. I’d tried staying with my relatives for as long as I was able. I always ended up back home.
Would they even notice if I was gone? Would they even care?
I’d be one less kid to worry about. One less mouth to feed. There were so many of us anyway. And I would be free… free from the pain, neglect, emptiness… free from my returning father.
Derrick would care. I felt a pang of regret that I would leave my best friend behind. I thought about my younger sisters. Would they hate me for abandoning them as our dad had abandoned us? Would they be able to take care of themselves without me? Maybe my parents would have regrets. Maybe my mom would feel horrible for ignoring me. Maybe she would cry over my little dead body and wish she’d treated me nicer. She would tell my dad and he would feel like it was his fault. He’d have to live with the regret for his entire life.
Yes. Good. It would serve them right.
I wondered if I would go to Hell. According to the Bible, God would damn me for taking my own life. It was a sin. The fires would be hot… there would be pitch forks, torture, and demons…
My hands started to shake. I couldn’t get myself to open the bottle of pills.
Or maybe God would take pity on me. Maybe he’d take me up to Heaven so I could finally be happy. That would be a very different sort of afterlife. I envisioned blue skies and sunny fields of lush green grass, colorful flowers and refreshing rivers, beautiful smiling angels and music. I would be able to fly in Heaven, it would be a place filled with enchanting music, and I would be given everything I’d ever wanted in my life. I wouldn’t be poor. I wouldn’t cry myself to sleep at night. I wouldn’t need to live with my father ever again.
I can’t take it anymore. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…
A knock on the door startled me. “Connie?” Andre’s voice drifted through the keyhole. “What are you doing in there?”
I paused. He had seen me go in. I’d pushed past him while I’d been crying. Had he seen the pill bottle? “None of your business!”
“Open the door!” he said.
“No!” I retorted.
“Open the door! Open it now!”
His demands and his frantic knocking incited a fresh wave of tears. The enormity of what I was about to do frightened me. His frantic awareness of it frightened me even further.
“No,” I kept saying. My hands were shaking so badly that it was difficult to get the cap off the bottle, but I finally managed. “No!” This was what I wanted, right? Yes, I told myself. This was what I needed. There couldn’t be any turning back. They won’t change, I reprimanded myself. Nothing will change. Only I can change this. It wasn’t a bad thing. I hadn’t contemplated death too much, but I hoped that it would be like swimming out of blackness and into the light, like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon. Surely it would be better than all this.
I’ve wondered, since then, why so many people choose bathrooms as a suicide setting. There are many reasons to choose from, probably. Bathrooms are where pills and razors are located. They are private spaces, where other people are far less likely to interrupt you or bang down the door if they think you’re taking your sweet time flossing or grappling with constipation. Bathrooms are also easier to clean, since water is in great supply. Then there’s the mirror, too, offering a final face-down and farewell.
For my fourteen-year-old self, this bathroom had become a narrow ledge at the world’s end. I teetered on the cliff between hope and despair, reeling from my never-ending exposure to a world of violence and vulnerability where no one seemed to care and no one seemed to notice. From my vantage point, there was only one way out: step off the cliff and into the void. I wasn’t sure yet if falling meant flying.


About the Author:


Constance G. Jones is a San Diego native, an avid reader, and a storyteller. She earned her bachelor’s degree in Management and Organizational Communications from Point Loma Nazarene University and has since worked in administration, public relations, and career services; most recently, she serves as a site manager at Walmart Global eCommerce. In 2016, Constance founded Elevate Foundation with her husband, Claude, driven by their personal mission to make an impact in their local community and inspire others to do the same. Emerging Butterfly: A Memoir is Constance’s debut book.







Elevate Foundation: http://elevate.foundation


a Rafflecopter giveaway


Tuesday, February 18, 2020

Gothique - A Victorian Gothic Tea Party is Seeking Event Sponsors #Gothique #seekingsponsors



Teacup Sponsorship is $25- sponsors will receive their logo on event programs and promotion on the Gothique Facebook Page and in the Gothique Facebook Event Page





Teapot Sponsorship is $50- sponsors will receive their logo on event programs, promotion on the Gothique Facebook Page and in the Gothique Facebook Event Page, and ads placed on the sidebars of the blogs Roxanne’s Realm, Fang-tastic Books, and A Bewitching Guide to Halloween (which also posts on Haunted-Flint.comhttps://www.haunted-flint.com/a-bewitching-guide-to-halloween). 

Both sponsorship levels will also receive social media promotion through all of Roxanne's social media outlets: Twitter, Instagram, LinkedIn, MeWe, Pinterest and multiple Facebook pages.

Please complete the form below and send payment to https://www.paypal.me/bewitchingbooktours or by email via Paypal to RoxanneRhoads@bewitchingbooktours.com  or if you prefer we can send an invoice to your email address.

We will need a jpg or png of your logo and a square or rectangle ad for the website sidebars and program. A digital copy of your business card is acceptable. Please email them to RoxanneRhoads@bewitchingbooktours.com

To Complete the Sponsorship Form Click Here 
    






Monday, February 17, 2020

New Release Steel Reign: Flight of The Starship Concord by Braxton A. Cosby #SciFi



Steel Reign: Flight of The Starship Concord
The Red Gemini Chronicles
Braxton A. Cosby

Genre: Science Fiction
Publisher: Cosby Media Productions
Date of Publication: 02/02/2020
ISBN: 979-8603527376
ASIN: B083ZT2KT3
Number of pages: 401
Word Count: 80k

Cover Artist: CMP

Tagline: A Thief turned Spy, turned Bounty Hunter, turned Hero!

Book Description:

After surviving an all-out implosion of catastrophic proportions following the failed fusion of twin stars Mira A and B in a class B Supernova, the people of galaxy Proxima Centauri have pressed forward with dreams and hopes of finally living in peace. But for Bounty Hunter Steel Reign, the clock of destiny is speeding ahead at a steadfast pace as he desires to hunt down a group of rogue super-soldiers before they can plot against King William Derry and his kingdom on planet Fabricius.

Consistent work as a Hunter in Proxima Centauri has always been a feast or famine occupation, and when the flow of credits slow to a snail's pace, Reign must find a secondary means of funding to finance his seek and destroy assignment by way of scalping a precious artifact on the open Black Market. That is, until his supplier comes up short, forcing him to pump the brakes and fall back to Plan B: finding his long lost sister Olia who was captured by the space pirate Forge, and forced to compete in a deadly game of chance aboard the Eclipse. And if that wasn't bad enough, the stakes have just been raised when he discovers that she is the only source of an antibody that can offer a cure for the deadly, venomous DX virus lurking in his blood, just waiting to consume him.

To survive, Reign will have to test not only his skills as a legendary assassin, but also his patience, as he takes on a rogue band of misfits to steal and crew the prototype starship Concord to thwart Forge's plans once and for all.



Monday, February 10, 2020

Cover Reveal Echoes from the Veil by Colleen Halverson


Echoes from the Veil
Aisling Chronicles
Book Three
Colleen Halverson

Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Entangled
Date of Publication: Feb. 24th 2020
Number of pages: 305
Word Count: 88K


Tagline: Love is Always Worth Fighting For



Book Description:

Aisling Elizabeth Tanner is now the leader of the Faerie rebellion. Facing the end of the world, she will have to find the strength to lead the Fae to victory against the threat they face, or risk losing everything, including Finn, whom she’s come to love more than life.      

Warrior Finn O’Connell wants nothing more than to fight by Elizabeth’s side. But an ancient Celtic goddess threatens to take charge of his soul, and he will have to wage a war within himself to save the rebellion from disintegrating into chaos.         

Betrayal leads them into the Fae Underworld, where Finn discovers his greatest sacrifice might be letting Elizabeth go—forever.

Amazon     BN     iBooks     Kobo     Entangled



About the Author:


As a child, Colleen Halverson used to play in the woods imagining worlds and telling stories to herself. Growing up on military bases, she found solace in her local library and later decided to make a living sharing the wonders of literature to poor, unsuspecting college freshmen. After backpacking through Ireland and singing in a traditional Irish music band, she earned a PhD in English with a specialization in Irish literature. When she’s not making up stories or teaching, she can be found hiking the rolling hills of the Driftless area of Wisconsin with her husband and two children. She also writes as C.B. Halverson.










a Rafflecopter giveaway
 
BLOG DESIGN FOR FANG-TASTIC BOOKS BY BARBARA.
RED CORSET © HALAQUINN ARCADIAS. GOTHIC NIGHT © ASHEN SHARROW.