Niki Cluff lives in Northern Arizona with her husband, three children, and Great Dane who also doubles as a pony. For the last four years, she has worked as a literary intern sorting through queries while writing her own books. When she isn’t writing or watching BIGBANG and EXO videos, she’s sketching, playing video games (Legend of Zelda is her favorite), crocheting, and cooking. Copycat recipes are her specialty. She’s also a massive anime fan (Sailor Moon forever!) and hopes to visit Tokyo some day.

Twitter ~ Blog ~
Amazon ~
Allyson has been in a coma for the last nine months. What’s worse, she can hear everything the doctors say. She knows they’re keeping her in a coma and that she’s at the mercy of the hospital’s First-in-Human trial—a VR system implanted in her brain for a second chance at life.

Attached to the VR, Ally discovers worlds unlike home. She can do whatever she wants, but she misses her parents. With help from Harrison, a rabbit-eared boy, they work together to free themselves from Aishwarya, the mad queen of the world. 

But when Harrison wakes up and doesn’t come for Ally, she’ll split her soul to the brink of death to save herself.

Character Casting:
Ally: Dove Cameron
Harrison: Dylan Sprouse
Chester: Cameron Boyce
Aishwarya: Ananya Panday 
Aalim: Michael B Jordan
Midori: Lyrica Okano 

 Top Ten List:

10: Mother of three kids, and a Great Dane.
9: I love Sushi, particularly anything tempura battered.
8: Jurassic Park is one of my all-time favorite movies
7: I love to collect water bottles, purses, and watches.
6: I spend most of my time in the kitchen. I love to cook, especially copycat recipes.
5: Someday I want to visit Japan. I love the culture and anime!
4: Phantom of the Opera is my favorite musical/book
3: I love marching band. I was a drum major in high school and often miss it.
2: Bacon and black olive pizza is one of my major food groups.
1: I love video games. Legend of Zelda will always be my favorite series.

To view our blog schedule and follow along with this tour visit our Official Event page 



Love Is Never Past Tense

By Janna Yeshanova

Women’s fiction, Literary fiction, Contemporary romance based on true historical events, Inspirational, Strong female protagonist

Originally from the former Soviet
Union, Janna Yeshanova escaped in 1989 when persecution became violent during the
crumbling of the Soviet state. This required getting permission to emigrate and
a long dangerous train trip across central Europe with her elderly mother, her
young daughter, and the $126 she was permitted to take out of the country. She
did this by overcoming gridlock in Russia, animosity and graft at the border,
and neglect in the west. Safely out of Soviet control, Janna and her family
spent months as refugees waiting for permission to come to the United States.

Arriving in the United States
knowing not a soul, Janna settled in Ohio and began to rebuild her life. She
earned a second master’s degree and was invited as a speaker at the Bosnia and
Herzegovina International Peace Conference in 1996. While building her business
as a Leadership Trainer and consultant, she has become a Professional Certified
Coach (PCC) through the International Coach Federation. She offers life
coaching services to individuals, conflict resolution to couples and groups,
and soft skills training to organizations of all sizes.

Her book, Love Is Never Past Tense, offers a message of hope and inspiration,
showing that nothing is impossible if you believe in yourself.S

Blog: http://bit.ly/2lM9TAb

Website: http://www.loveisneverpasttense.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/loveisneverpasttense

Twitter: https://twitter.com/JannaYeshanova

A couple’s quick
romance and hasty marriage is torn apart by family and fate, leaving them to
face the collapse of the Soviet Union separately. Years later, old memories are
stirred to give their love a second chance.

Serge and Janna’s
chance meeting at a Black Sea beach sparks a passionate romance and a quick
marriage. Serge’s parents, suspicious of Janna’s motives and heritage, force
him to break up with her. As the Soviet Union collapses, revealing ethnic and
social pressures, each faces danger separately. Serge drowns in self-doubt, his
life spiraling down and in. Janna plots a dangerous exodus to America with her
mother and daughter. Years pass, stirring old emotions. Then changing
circumstances give their love a second chance. Janna Yeshanova tells a story,
providing a very personal view of political and social change.

Love is Never Past Tense is part romantic drama and part a look at real people responding to life-changing events, but mostly a suspense adventure about living through one of the biggest changes in living memory.

Love Is Never Past Tense is available on Amazon in hardcover, paperback and Kindle eBook formats. The newly released audiobook is available on Audible, Amazon and iTunes. The audible and Kindle versions are enabled with WhisperSync.

The audio is narrated
by Daniela Acitelli, a narrator with dozens of audiobooks to her credit. Even
those familiar with the story found new meaning in her presentation. It took me
two years to find her.

Audio Book at audible.com https://adbl.co/2FrEWAs

Audio Book at Amazon https://amzn.to/2Bt9s8W

Audio Book at iTunes https://apple.co/2Kvh8KX

Amazon Author Page https://amzn.to/2AhhY9j

Amazon Kindle https://amzn.to/2Ku6h3S

Serge didn’t try
to catch up to the shuffling, thin, leather skirt. He hadn’t a clue what he
would do if he actually caught up with her. So he continued following her along
the high embankment for a fairly long time, until they crossed the whole of
Lanzheron Park. But, reaching the beach, the girl quickly descended to the sea.
Serge even began to jog a bit to keep her in sight. His head was clear this
morning, and soon he would try out his cunning for the first but not the last
time this day. The spy set up camp at the upper solarium and watched over her.
Maybe she was waiting for some company, or a young man, or a girlfriend (which
would undoubtedly seem to be better), but to our spy, all were equally bad
possibilities. This guessing game carried on in his head, but it seemed she
wasn’t looking for anyone. She ducked into the changing room, and her leather
skirt momentarily hung over the edge of the stall. After a minute, she exited,
and Serge, pulling his long hair away from his head with both hands in anguish,
groaned something unintelligible. Her breasts exited the little room first. The
spot from where Serge looked down provided such visibility that his knees began
to tremble. Her face was impossible to discern through her long hair and
sunglasses, but something told him it would also be in order. She laid before
her a light beach towel and laying down she took a book from her bag and began
to read. Burning her “landing site” into his mind, Serge took off like a shot
to the nearest cabana rental. Fast as lightning, he exchanged his clothes for a
key, crammed two metal rubles in the pocket of his swimming trunks, and became
Don Juan. He feared, though, that there were already a bunch of admirers
slinking ever closer to the sacred beach towel, and that he would simply be too
late. He’d have to crawl to his place in line, and like the others, would have
a poor chance of success.

He flew down the
stairs and quickly found the beach towel, but … its owner was nowhere to be
found. There was a book, a beach bag, and sunglasses, but their owner had
disappeared. Oh, yes! This would be the second time that a smart thought
visited Serge’s head today. People come to the sea to swim, after all! This
interpretation of her disappearance comforted and delighted Serge. He became
bolder and impudently tossed his glasses onto the same towel and cheerfully
marched to the water. With his half-blind eyes, he surely could not see her.
And where, among dozens of bathers? He dove into a wave and swam away from the
shore. First, he couldn’t stand to watch bathers jumping around like frogs in
the shallow water. Secondly, at this moment, his exceptionally quick-witted
head told him he couldn’t be the first to return to her beach towel. Then he’d
have to take his glasses and fiddle around a bit in front of the beach towel to
buy time as he came up with a new plan. Perhaps he’d cover himself with the towel,
or maybe … no, he needed to work on his initial scenario.

He even came up
with a sophisticated opening: “Excuse me, young lady, but I left my
glasses here on your towel. I simply didn’t have anywhere to put them, or
myself for that matter.” With this, his stockpile of ideas was depleted …

At last he
climbed out of the water and headed along the well-trodden route to her beach
towel. The towel was in place, and on this towel lay the magnificent body of
its hostess, but Serge’s glasses were lying a little bit farther on the edge of
the towel. Serge squatted down and mumbled his introduction. He was counting on
her to respond with typical beach chit-chat: “Where are you from? How long
ago did you arrive in Odessa?” or other such nonsense.

glasses are fine,” she responded. “I figured someone just confused
their beach towel with mine but have a seat anyway.”

She scooted over,
freeing up half the beach towel. He got scared. If he lay down, then he
wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to nuzzle up to her. Then he’d certainly
look like a pervert, a youth brought up with no manners, or a pest—in a word,
he would give the exact opposite impression than he wanted. He mumbled
something like a “thank you” and lay down beside her on the sand. She
motioned towards him with a little bag of sunflower seeds, “Help

” Oh God, what’s
this?” resounded in Serge’s mind. “Are you kidding me … sunflower seeds?” And
his hand with a subsequent “thank you” reached in the bag.

“Do you like
Ilf and Petrov?”2

”Lord, who is she talking about? I’ve only heard of them in passing, but I don’t know the slightest thing about them …” Serge thought to himself.

“My name’s
Janna,” she came to his rescue.

he stammered in reply, “but at the institute everyone actually calls me
Serge, or Seriy …”3

She chuckled.

You’re actually black as tar. Where did you get such a tan?” she asked,
spitting out sunflower seed shells. Not even awaiting a response, she
exclaimed: “Here is an interesting moment”—and she began to read her book
aloud, something about Ptiburdukov and his Varvara, who was leaving her first
husband for him but couldn’t make up her mind. Janna read for a while, probably
about five pages, and then thrust the book towards Serge and said, “You
read from here,” marking the place with her fingernail. Serge began to
read, but he didn’t understand a word. He was too busy worrying about his
diction, trying not to miss any letters or words. He fought through two pages,
but his audience was clearly not impressed.

“Would you
like a cigarette?”

“If he has a
smoke, then he’ll stop reading.” Serge could almost hear her thinking. He
pulled a cigarette from a mashed-up pack of Javas,
the best tobacco the Soviet Union could offer at that time. She handed him the
matches. He brought the flame close to her face. She took a drag and rolled
over on her back. Serge absolutely didn’t know what to do: read, blow sand from
her, ask her about something. But she was not waiting for any questions and
didn’t ask any questions. It was as if he simply was present. And that was
that. The only thing that remained was for Serge to stare dumbfounded into the
sand and observe the ants. Having smoked half the cigarette, she jammed the
other half into the sand and turned back over on her stomach, brushing her leg
up against Serge’s. But she did not hasten to remove it. Silent Serge, who
really didn’t look the part of a reasonable person, turned into an animal. His
uncontrollable desire sprang to life, pulling his swimming trunks down into the
sand with such force that it became painful. Serge secretly burrowed a hole in
the sand, easing the pressure. He became obsessed with a craving to climb on
top of her. But this was out of the question, which made his desire even
stronger …

“It’s hot.
Let’s go for a swim,” she said, lifting herself up on her elbows. For the
first time he could see her breasts up close, causing his heart to leap through
his ribs like a bird in a cage. He muttered he’d catch up to her, and when she left,
his desire ever so slowly began to
hide itself away, until he was finally able to get up and head towards the sea.

She splashed
around in the waves, which towards midday became quite sizable. He flopped
about next to her, often brushing up against her body. Then he suggested
tossing her in the waves. He cradled her head and shoulders, gathered her hands
into his, and finally lifted her up and tossed her into the waves. Janna liked
it, and so did he, but for a different reason: every time she hit the waves,
her bathing suit slid down slightly, and when her breasts finally became
exposed, he was ready to splash to his very death. Suddenly, she ended up
cradled in his arms. With one arm, she grasped his neck, and he now understood
that everything will happen, he just needed to patiently wait.

Once something
starts, eventually, it ends. The delightful swim as well: they returned from
the water and again lay down on the beach towel.

“I want to get
tanned like you.” (She had already switched to the informal you4 in the water. He liked this, as it
made him feel less uneasy around her). She placed her arm next to his for
comparison, and her brown skin seemed much paler than his almost blackened arm.
Guiltily, he informed her that he just returned yesterday from his
apprenticeship in Baku, and so it was not surprising that he was so dark.

“You have
beautiful hands,” she pensively remarked. Then, determined, she added, “No, you
just wait. I’ll catch up with you in two days. Just wait and see.” These words
poured over his body like oil. For Serge, this meant that he would spend at
least two more days with her.

“Get some ice
cream. Do you need some money?”

“I have it,”
answered Serge, but before he could get up and leave, he had to turn and crawl
to hide his “desire” …


During their
first three days together, Serge (as they called our hero at the time) was the
quieter of the two, once in a while muttering some insignificant phrases. The
first time he saw her, he silently followed her for a long time. She walked
along easily, shifting her long, rather well-proportioned legs. Her thin
leather skirt swung from side to side, barely hiding her shapely hips. A green
blouse tightly covered her beautifully straight back. All the while, Serge
followed her like she was a vision, lacking the courage to come closer or to
back away. He knew that making her acquaintance was a long shot; she was simply
out of his league. How could he possibly know that she, a complete stranger,
would inexplicably impact his life and be with him forever, whether she was at
his side or not?

21 Dec – Celtic Lady’s Reviews

22 Dec – CA Milson Author

22 Dec – Stormy

23 Oct – Girl With Pen

23 Dec – Dawn’s Reading Nook

24 Dec – Stephanie’s
Book Reviews

24 Dec – eBooks
Addict UK

26 Dec – Writing Dreams

27 Dec – Romance Reviews Today

28 Dec – Room With Books

29 Dec – Erzabet’s

30 Dec – Indie Book

07 Dec – Ash Stone Author



HEATHER TULLIS has been reading romance for as long as she can remember and has been publishing in the genre since 2009. She has published more than twenty books. 

When she’s not dreaming up new stories to write, or helping out with her community garden, she enjoys playing with her dogs and cat, cake decorating, trying new jewelry designs, inventing new ways to eat chocolate, and hanging out with her husband. 

Learn more about her and sign up for her newsletter on her website.

Jonah Owens thought moving to Echo Ridge to open his art gallery would solve all of his problems. The need to sell his grandma’s house adds an unexpected complication. It would be easier if his neighbor didn’t have all those farm animals.

 Kaya Feidler’s family has owned their land for nearly a hundred years–long before the neighbors were there. There’s no way she’s giving up the animal therapy business she’s been struggling to make profitable. She gets a temp job helping Jonah in the gallery. 

Spending time together is a recipe for romance, but can they overcome their own hangups to be more than friends?

Jonah picked at a piece of shredded
lettuce on his sandwich. “I’d do anything for my grandma. Besides, I love it
here, and I was ready for a change. A complete change.” He’d been dragging
around trying to paint post-Janet. This was a fresh start in many ways.
“She said you haven’t painted anything in a long time.” Kaya’s words
were hesitant, as though she wanted to ask, but didn’t want to pry.
“I hit a wall.” He paused. It felt wrong to gloss it over with Kaya,
though he didn’t know why. He went with the impulse. “I was dating someone
seriously. When it ended, I found I could only paint dark stuff. Stuff I
wouldn’t buy or hang, and definitely wouldn’t sell. I tried working through it,
but I tried so hard to paint things I wasn’t feeling that I ended up not being
able to paint at all. Nothing remotely good, anyway. Technically correct, but
not emotionally true at all, so I had to stop. The gallery is sort of my backup
plan.” It had taken a long time for him to admit it was what he had to do.
“That seems to have changed.”
“What do you mean?”

“I saw the painting of Shyanne this
morning; it’s nearly done, right? It’s beautiful. It takes my breath away,

To view our blog schedule and follow along with this tour visit our Official Event page



Jennifer lives in Arizona where she writes escapist fiction she calls “Cotton Candy for the Soul.”

He needs this job to honor his late wife.
 She needs to complete her late fiancé’s bucket list to be free.
Former action-movie star Chet has counted the days since he lost his wife last New Year’s Eve almost a year ago. When he’s given a shot at starring in a reboot of her favorite TV show, he jumps at it. But there’s a catch: the producers won’t hire him unless he can prove he’s regained emotional stability—by bringing a steady girlfriend to his five auditions.
Which means: five mandatory dates for this bereft widower.
Social worker Holly lost her fiancé to war. With his good life snuffed out too soon, she feels compelled to finish his bucket list of unselfish deeds. But four years later, several remain, and they’re ridiculously impossible. Until she accomplishes her soldier’s dreams, she can’t even consider moving on with her life.
When they meet on the beach at Getaway Bay, what she doesn’t know is homeless-looking mourner Chet is actually Colt Winchester, screen star and fashion icon. What he doesn’t know is that he’s a means to an end.
When their walls start to crumble on their Christmas season dates, can these two find love again, or will they forever be chasing ghosts?”

“Excuse me.” A server approached with a silver platter covered with frosted sugar cookies. “Would you care for a cookie?”
“Who says no to a sugar cookie?” Holly took two—a star and a snowman. “Thank you.” One bite of the star’s vanilla-almond buttercream frosting sent her mouth into ecstasy.
“These are good,” Chet ate his green-frosted Christmas tree in two bites.
“Did you try the snowman?” The frosting of her second cookie melted into a sweet coconutty heaven on her tongue. “Mmm. It’s childhood in a sugary bite.”
“Do you bake?” He spoke through a mouthful. “Mmm. Cookies are love.”
Chet caught Holly off guard. He hadn’t seemed like the type to make such a tender analogy.
“Ah, sometimes. And you’re right. Especially sugar cookies. They require so many steps I always just buy them.” She never made them. Not even for Rick. “The only thing that could motivate a person to make them is love of the recipients of the cookies.”
“That,” Chet said, “or a deep love of sugar cookies.”
“Gluttony could also be a motivator.”
“Where’s that platter? We should get more of those.” Spoken like a true hungry person.
Holly had never experienced true hunger, at least not physical hunger. Maybe Chet needed more cookies.
“If we walk around, we might run into the sugar cookie person again.” Or someone with another kind of food, if Chet needed it. However, tonight, Chet seemed a lot less like a guy who needed to fish to feed himself than he had the other day.
They walked toward a table with chairs and sat down. Chet reached across the table and took her by both hands. “I think girlfriend is right for now.”
Girlfriend. Holly stared down at their clasped hands atop the green velvet tablecloth. His were rough, like they’d held a fishing rod in the sun for a lot of hours, day after day. She’d seen him on the shore.
“So that makes you my boyfriend.” The word sounded younger than she felt. The last four years had aged her. Against her collarbone, Rick’s unused wedding ring heated up again. “You work fast.”

“Not usually.”

To view our blog schedule and follow along with this tour visit our Official Event page



The Songs That Brought Me Back
by Mylissa Demeyere

Have you ever made a mistake? One so monumental you lost everything? I did, and I hate myself for it! All I want to do is close my eyes, and let the darkness consume me. Make it all go away. The end.

Ainsley is drowning in the depth of her despair. One wrong decision left her alone, with only regret as her constant companion. To escape it all, she makes another choice. One she hopes will end everything. Instead, she’s thrown into a whole new world filled with opportunities she doesn’t believe she deserves.

Ethan gives the appearance of breezing through life. But underneath his bright facade, he’s scarred by loss. When fate leads him into Ainsley’s world at the exact moment she needs someone the most, he can’t ignore the chance to right the wrongs of his past.

Ainsley and Ethan will struggle to help each other heal and start anew.

They’ll learn that the secret to conquering their pain lies within their power, if only they can do it together.

Always together.

Sometimes the ending is really the beginning.


“FILL THESE OUT, PLEASE.” The nurse at the ER admin desk
shoved a clipboard holding a stack of insurance forms into
my hands. “Once we get your partner stabilized, I’ll go find
out about sending you in to see her.” She gave me a curt nod
and disappeared behind the desk.

What had I been thinking? I hadn’t been thinking. Not
much beyond getting my neighbor here in time. I had been
living next door to Ainsley for the last six months, ever since
the construction on my house was completed. And I had
noticed her from day one. Who wouldn’t, with her striking
blue eyes, long blonde hair, and a body every man dreams of?
But there was more. She had this frailty about her, if you
looked close enough. And it drew me in, right from the start.
But she never let me get further than a few pleasantries. Still,
it didn’t stop me from trying. And I had tried to be her

When I found her earlier today… I shuddered as the
memory washed over me.

I clutched the letter in my hand, secretly happy I had an excuse to ring Ainsley’s doorbell. The mailman had messed up and I couldn’t let the opportunity slide, noting her car in the driveway.

Walking up to the door, I rolled my shoulders and took a deep breath, aiming for cool and suave, not flustered and eager like she had me feeling each time I caught a glimpse of her.

I rang the bell and turned to soak up the bright rays of sun, feeling my stomach knot as the anticipation rose. A few seconds passed, but no one came to open the door.

I turned to ring the bell again, sure she was home, when I stopped dead in my tracks, my hand still suspended in the air. My heart started pounding in my chest as the ground beneath me felt like it was moving.

“Ainsley! Ainsley!” I pounded on the door, her lifeless body sprawled on the floor in the hallway just visible through the sidelights. My palms felt moist as I fought against the rising panic.

“Ainsley!!” My voice was hoarse as I belted out her name over and over.

Instinct took over. I ran to the back door and found it unlocked. I hadn’t ever let myself in, but now wasn’t the time to worry about that.

“Ainsley!” I fell on my knees next to her, taking in the full scene. Her chest was barely moving, her lips a faint shade of blue.

An empty pill bottle lay on the floor beside her. I picked it up, already sure of what was going on but needing to confirm it.

Time seemed to stand still as I pieced it all together, but the loud, ringing sound in my ears forced me to move and get help.

“Ainsley, what have you done?” I cried as I slipped my phone out of my back pocket and called 911. I hoped I wasn’t too late, that we still had time.

“What happened?” One of the paramedics loaded her on a gurney while the other got to work checking her vitals. I rehashed all I knew, which wasn’t very much.

They loaded her in the ambulance, and after getting the right info about where they were taking her, I sped over to the hospital in record time.

“What’s your relationship to the patient?” The ER clerk typed in Ainsley’s name without making eye contact.

“I don’t see how that’s important now,” I growled.

“Only the next of kin can see the patient.” She looked up for the first time and took in my panicked state.

“I’m her…boyfriend.” Where did that come from? I didn’t even know her that well, but I couldn’t take it back now.

“I see.” The woman stared up at me over her wide-rimmed glasses, pausing as she studied me. Did she pick up on my hesitation? Did she detect the lie?

“Please take a seat. I’ll have her paperwork ready in just a sec.”

I released the breath I held and dropped down in the vinyl seat, overcome by the events of the past hour.

I’d been waiting for over two hours, and I was frantic. I
didn’t do so well in a hospital setting.

“Mr. Van Der Beek?” A doctor dressed in light blue scrubs
walked into the waiting area. I stood up.

“Yes?” My heart beat double time, waiting for him to give
me news on Ainsley.

“We were able to stabilize your girlfriend.” The word
made me wince. The doctor luckily mistook it for the info he
was delivering, and his expression softened, his eyes full of
sympathy. “Ainsley experienced respiratory depression, and
we needed to intubate her to ensure she was getting enough

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and nodded my

“We’ll keep her in the ICU until she gains consciousness.”

“But she’s going to be okay?” I pleaded.

“We’ll know for sure tomorrow. I think you got to her in
time.” He patted me on the shoulder and turned to leave but

“Mr. Van Der Beek.” He stared into my eyes.

“Yes?” I felt the weight of the day settle on my shoulders.

“Your girlfriend is very sick. Even if she makes a full
physical recovery, you have a long road ahead of you.”

I nodded, my eyes stinging. “Thank you, Doctor.” I sank
onto one of the chairs lining the side of the waiting area. If
anyone knew how long that road was, it was me.

A heartfelt romance with a powerful message about the sanctity of human life. If you’ve ever simply needed a friend, The Songs That Brought Me Back will resonate–and leave you thankful for the people in your life. -Taylor Dean, author of I’m With You and Chasing Fireflies.

Another remarkable read by Mylissa Demeyere. Ethan and Ainsley had me laughing and crying as they face their own demons and fall in love while doing it. This book adds even more depth as it confronts suicide head on. Suicide has become an epidemic that some are afraid to address; Demeyere brings it to light from both the victims and the survivors giving us insight on the struggles of so many. It does not disappoint and I, again, am excited to see what comes next from this talented writer. – Amazon Reviewer

A beautiful sequel to The Songs of You and Me that cleverly illustrates that there are always two sides to every story and that it is never too late for love to overcome any challenge. – Amazon Reviewer

“This poignant redemption story about second chances and forgiveness yanked my emotions all over the place. I cried, I yearned, I hoped. A beautiful story about what true love is and does.” – Charissa Stastny, author of Between Hope and the Highway and The Ruled Out Romance Series

Author Mylissa Demeyere

Mylissa Demeyere was born in Belgium, and resides in the beautiful city of Ghent. She lives in a somewhat organized home with her four beautiful children and the love of her life. If she isn’t working, she’s writing, running, reading, or enjoying time with her kids, who are growing up way too fast.

The Songs That Brought Me Back is her second novel in The Songs Series, with a third book releasing in the middle of 2019.

Giveaway Details

$25 Amazon Gift Code or $25 in PayPal Cash

Ends 1/10/19

Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code or PayPal Cash. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by Rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner may be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Amazon, BookBub, Instagram, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. This giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader & Clean Wholesome Romance and is sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.

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R. William (Bill) Bennett is the author of Jacob T. Marley, The Christmas Gift, and a new Christmas novel being published by a major publisher for Christmas, 2019

 ~ Website ~
“Marley was dead to begin with . . . “

These chillingly familiar words begin the classic Christmas tale of remorse and redemption in A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. 

But, what about Jacob Marley?  And why hadn’t he been given the same final chance of redemption as Ebenezer Scrooge?

Or had he?

From a scene in which unbeknownst
to Scrooge, Marley’s spirit has accompanied Scrooge and the Ghost of
Christmas Present to the marketplace: 

At that
moment, an urchin of no more than five stood before the trio. Whether she could
not see Marley and Scrooge, or whether she simply paid them no mind, it could
not be discerned, but there was no question she saw the ghost, as she surveyed
his entire wardrobe and stared with delight into his face. The spirit smiled
down at her. He took his cornucopia torch and tipped it above her head, which
caused a soundless waterfall of glistening sparkles, like a thousand miniature
sprites, that seemed to flow into the girl as they touched her. 
asked Jacob, “why does she see you?” 
“I cannot
stop her. It is not that I choose to reveal myself to her, but I am revealed by
her purity. She sees me because her eyes are not shrouded with doubt or hate,
fear or selfishness or greed. Her heart is innocent, and her eyes are an
extension of that heart. My mission is the goodness of man in this season, and
I cannot keep it from her.” 
“Do all
the children see you?” 
“No, just
the ones whose spirits are so remarkable, they tend to live in both
“And what
is that with which you christened her?” 
“Joy, that
it might fill her needs a bit.” 
seemed troubled. “She does not look like she needs joy. I think she needs
food—and clothing.” 
about you,” said the spirit more sternly. “Do you see food?” 
again took in the array of fruits and vegetables and nuts and plants of all
kinds. “I do, Spirit. So much that to feed this little one even all she could
swallow would not make a noticeable scratch on this abundance.” 
“And do
you see people?” There were men and women and children bustling about, wishing
each other the greatest merriment of the day and generally enjoying the
“I do,
Spirit, many.” 
“And what
number of that many are stooping down to offer one bite, or perhaps an old
shawl they would never miss, to this poor girl?” 
noticed that the crowds seemed completely oblivious to the child, walking
around her and even bumping her at times, looking down only to see what
inconvenience they had stepped on and, upon finding it to be only an urchin
girl, looking back up to continue their conversations, never missing a word.
“None,” Jacob confessed. “Not one seems to notice her.” 
“They all
could, Jacob, if they chose. But they seem not to care. So, in this, I provide
a little to give her what they may not.” 
“But if
she is hungry, why not give her all she needs?” 
“Do not
think that a spirit does not have a kind heart! For we do. I ache for her
needs. But if I were to give her food and clothing and a home, what would be
required of you?” 

To view our blog schedule and follow along with this tour visit our Official Event page



My Brother’s Bride by Rachael Anderson

Abigail Nash leads a lonely existence. Her mother died giving birth to her, her father’s business dealings took him away more often than not, and her ailing great-aunt, unable to provide much in the way of companionship, was a lack-luster guardian at best. So when her dear friends offered to launch her into London society, it appeared Abby’s life was taking a turn for the better, with suitors and social engagements aplenty. When she marries a proclaimed darling of the ton, it seems she will at last settle into the life of her dreams.

But appearances aren’t always what they seem, and dreams often become disappointments.

Just months into her marriage, Abby finds herself widowed, penniless, increasing, and determined to never hope again. But when her late husband’s brother, the Earl of Brigston, attempts to thaw the numbness surrounding her heart, Abby must decide if she has it in her to risk another chance at happiness, knowing the odds are not in her favor.

I haven’t read a book by Rachael Anderson that I didn’t absolutely love and this awesome book didn’t fail to meet that grade. ~ Vicki

This forbidden Regency romance was excellent! Once I started, it was hard—almost impossible—to put down. ~ Charissa

This is the first full-length novel I’ve read by Rachael Anderson, but it definitely won’t be the last. I really enjoyed the story–the writing was really good with no annoying parts or awkwardness, the plot was interesting, the characters were endearing (I loved the banter between Brigtson and Abby!), and this book was just really good. Highly enjoyable. Great choice for those who like clean, well-written Regency romances. ~ AE2

This is a wonderful story for anyone who enjoys a clever and heart-warming historical tale that will leave them with a smile on their face. ~ Phyllis

Author Rachael Anderson

A USA Today bestselling author, Rachael Anderson is the mother of four and is pretty good at breaking up fights, or at least sending guilty parties to their rooms. She can’t sing, doesn’t dance, and despises tragedies. But she recently figured out how yeast works and can now make homemade bread, which she is really good at eating.

Giveaway Details

$25 Amazon Gift Code or $25 in PayPal Cash

Ends 1/10/19

Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code or PayPal Cash. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by Rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner may be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Amazon, BookBub, Instagram, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. This giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader & Clean Wholesome Romance and is sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.

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Stephanie Worlton is an author, designer, gabber, and sugar addict! She was raised in the suburbs of Salt Lake City where she developed a passion for the creation of space, color, and design. Her love of design drove her to pursue a degree in architecture. Her love of family pulled her home to be a mom.  She enjoys hanging out with her family, reading, writing, making massive project lists, doing remodeling and building projects, playing in the dirt, and snuggling with her dogs. She collects power tools, camera equipment, shoes (though barefoot is always best!), and books.

Ali Cross, the award-winning author of the Desolation Series, has always had a flare for the dramatic. As a child she organized backyard performances of classic plays and musicals and hosted tea parties for invisible friends and pets dressed in doll clothes. Her teens were a haze of boys, drama (of the real life variety), and music. So it really didn’t come as a surprise to anyone that the girl her family called a dreamer, ended up writing drama—with angels, demons, and other supernatural creatures thrown in for fun.
After university, Ali traveled from the Great White North to the Utah desert for love and now entertains her devoted husband, almost-grown twin sons and adorable yorkies with her wacky song renditions and random movie lines. As the only female in the house she considers this her right and her duty.
Never one to conform to expectations, Ali enjoys writing in multiple genres:
Ali Cross books for young adult paranormal romance; Ali Banks Cross books for middle grade adventures; and Ali M. Cross for inspirational romance. She promises to entertain you no matter which of her books you pick up.

Award-winning Author

I had lots of imaginary friends when I was five years old, and I guess you could say some of those friends never left me. In fact along the way, I picked up some more imaginary friends who have had lots to say.
I love watching stories unfold. And some of those stories seem worth sharing with you.
So, I have written a few books. And have several more in the works.
Meanwhile, some of my books have won some awards. And even more importantly, my books have made friends with some wonderful and supportive readers. I absolutely love it when a reader connects with one of my stories.
Stacy Lynn Carroll has always loved telling stories. She started out at Utah State University where she pursued a degree in English, learned how to western swing, and watched as many of her fellow students became ‘True Aggies’.  She then finished her BA at the University of Utah where she got an emphasis in creative writing.  

After college she worked as an administrative assistant, where she continued to write stories for the amusement of her co-workers. When her first daughter was born, and with the encouragement of a fortune cookie, she quit her job and became a full-time mommy and writer. 

Eight books and four small kids later, Stacy has truly learned the necessary skills of balance and time management. Dr. Pepper and chocolate also help. She and her husband live in Utah with their four children and three dogs. Bear Lake is her favorite place to write.

Are you ready to fall in love? 

Take the chill out of winter with four new multi-genre romances from best-selling and award-winning authors Tara C. Allred, Stacy Lynn Carroll, Ali M. Cross, and Stephanie Connelley Worlton. 

From heart-warming traditions to heart-pounding suspense, this cozy collection of toe-tingling first kisses set in Utah’s North Pole (aka Bear Lake) will leave you feeling cheerful and bright.

Snippet from 
Stolen Kisses by Ali M. Cross:
He was right—her hair was dark. Nearly black, actually. She was white, but there was a slight warmth to her skin and with her coal-dark eyes, straight black hair and long, straight nose, he was pretty sure she might be part Native American. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
“You guys can hang your coats up there,” the petite girl said, pointing to the coat rack by the door. “Your timing is perfect. We were just getting started.”
“Glad to see you made it to your destination safely,” Bent said, offering the girl what he hoped would be a kind smile. There was something about her, something wild but skittish. He’d never been around horses or anything, but she made him think of wild horses. Curious, but scared, too. “I’m Bentley. But everyone calls me Bent.”
“Mel. I remember. Is that short for Melanie?”
She shrugged and threw him a coy glance. “Call me Mel. But why do you go by Bent?”
Bent chuckled. “I’m Bentley Brown.” He leaned over the couch that stood between them and offered his hand. “And yes, I’m named after the car.”
She shook his hand. He liked the press of her small, warm palm against his and he was disappointed when she broke the contact.
“I like Bentleys.”
Oh, she could flirt, could she? Bent took off his coat and hung it up without taking his eyes off Mel. “Mel suits you. It’s tough. Like you.”
She laughed and looked down, shaking her head. “Oh, I’m anything but tough.”
He looked at her sideways. “You sure about that?”
Q&A With Ali M. Cross: 
1.  Describe yourself in 50 words or less.
Quirky and fun (or dorky and lame, but I’m going with “quirky and fun”). Sun worshipper, happiness enthusiast, believer in hope and magic. Devoted mom to twin 18yo sons and two adorable yorkies, and happy wife to the love of my life. 
2. What do you love most in the world?
God and my family.
3. What inspired you to become an Author?
Stories that moved me and inspired me. I wanted to be a part of that.
4. What is your favorite Winter / Holiday tradition?
My favorite Christmas tradition is we have a little basket we set on the mantel along with some yarn strips to represent “hay”. For every good turn during the holiday season (from Thanksgiving to Christmas), we each fill the basket or “creche” with yarn until by Christmas Eve, we have a nice soft bed ready for Jesus. Before we go to sleep, we gather around and sing “Silent Night.” I’ll put out the porcelain Jesus in his bed, then on Christmas morning, before we open presents, we’ll sing “Oh Come, All Ye Faithful”. Helps us to slow down a little bit and remember the “reason for the season.” 


5. What is your trick for getting past writer’s block? And what advice do you have for other authors who are struggling to tell their story?
My trick is to keep on writing! I’ll literally write “blah blah blah” or just free write–in my MS–until the words pick up the story again. OR, I’ll jump ahead to a part of the story I DO feel inspired to write. If neither of those tactics work, then I’ll for a walk, or do something else that fills my creative well. My best advice is to not be overly hard on yourself if the words won’t flow…but also to give yourself a chance to open that spigot by sitting down and writing ANY words, even if they aren’t the right ones.
6. Now that we’ve gotten to know each other, tell me a story. It can be long or short. From your childhood or last week. Funny, sad, or somewhere in between. Just make sure it’s yours. What’s your story?

My parents divorced when I was four years old. I remember one Christmas Eve when Daddy was coming to see me, AND I was singing a solo in the Christmas Eve mass that night. I wanted my mom and dad to come hear me sing as I’d never done a solo before and even my mom had never heard me. I think I was about ten. I sang “O Come, O Come, Emanuel”, and I remember how, standing in the choir box, my voice carried across the cathedral and the elegance of the procession beneath me. It was a powerful moment in my little life. A real “core memory”. I discovered my sister had come to hear me, but no one else. We rushed home because Dad was there–only to find that he had come and gone. He hadn’t wanted to hear me sing, or to even stay and see me. Everyone else got to see him except for me. And Mom was crying. It was another core memory. These two extremes on one night had a powerful impact on me. Now, I try very hard to always let my sons know that they are loved and that what’s important to them is important to me. That night was bittersweet for sure, but it hasn’t dulled my love for Christmas, only reminded me that I have the power now to help it shine–for myself and my family.

To view our blog schedule and follow along with this tour visit our Official Event page



The Spinster and I by Rebecca Connolly

Poor, unfortunate Spinster…

Prudence Westfall, spinster, has unexpectedly had the greatest misfortune of all: she has inherited a fortune, and is now an heiress. But as a Spinster, and a stammering shy one, nothing could be worse than having a bevy of suitors pay her attention. Opportunity strikes at a house party when the most unlikely person offers the perfect solution.

Camden Vale is no gentleman, and he’s not prone to saving anyone, but something about Prue changes all that. When his offer to befriend her extends beyond the house party, and his feelings extend beyond expectation, no one is more surprised than he. Except, perhaps, for the other Spinsters, and they have much to say on the subject.

“Didn’t you hear how they flattered me? You said yourself, men lie through their teeth.”

He hissed, and she looked over at him only to see him shaking his head. “Prue, I didn’t mean… Sometimes we are sincere. Sometimes we do mean everything we say. And you should like it and take it as a compliment.”

Prue smiled a very tight, thin smile. “They never have before, so I have no taste for it.” She exhaled and looked back into the ballroom, clasping her hands before her. “I just wish to be left alone.”

“Well,” he sighed, “then we have another problem.”

She looked up at him wryly. “And that is?”

He shrugged, something new in his dark eyes. “I don’t think I can leave you alone.” He stared at her for a long moment, his hand stilled on her back, and added, “I know I can’t.”

Her head tilted in a question. “Why not?”

“Because I see you,” he admitted with a rawness she did not anticipate. “And I like what I see.”

You know we say “a good clean book” to indicate, yes there is no sex, no obscenities and very little kissing but a good read nonetheless? There is no “nonetheless” here. It is a good book without qualification. Nothing was missing. Prue was a character who faced serious debilitating problems communicating with others and villainous family members and Cam, who fought his own demons, helped her as she helped him. Her blossoming was realistic and touching. The writing was good and the treatment of characters and flaws sensitive and well developed. A good read.

Rebecca Connolly creates vivid characters who want to fight for, to laugh and cry with. Sweet and breathtakingly romantic. I read this book in kindle unlimited, but now I’m going back to purchase it. I really like Ms. Connolly’s books!

I have thoroughly enjoyed getting to know Prue and Cam. They appear to be complete opposites but they truly are wonderful for each other.
I especially love how they helped each other heal without even trying or realizing.
And of course, I love both Prue and Cam’s friends. So much loyalty.
A wonderful clean read for a hopeless romantic like myself. The next book can’t come soon enough! Thank you for another enjoyable read Rebecca Connolly, I needed this escape!

Author Rebecca Connolly

Rebecca Connolly writes romances, both period and contemporary, because she absolutely loves a good love story. She has been creating stories since childhood, and there are home videos to prove it! She started writing them down in elementary school and has never looked back. She currently lives in the Midwest, spends every spare moment away from her day job absorbed in her writing, and is a hot cocoa addict.

Giveaway Details

$25 Amazon Gift Code or $25 in PayPal Cash

Ends 1/6/19

Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code or PayPal Cash. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by Rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner may be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Amazon, BookBub, Instagram, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. This giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader & Clean Wholesome Romance and is sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.

a Rafflecopter giveaway