Tuesday, September 29, 2015

Across The Sands by, Nefretiti Morant

Across The Sands 

by, Nefretiti Morant

The year is 1332 and Mali; known in the mid-evil world, as the pearl of Africa; is a bustling metropolis, renowned for its wealth, culture and extensive trade.
As a young girl Awa’s mother tells her that her forward thinking and just heart are the very traits that will one day make her a natural leader.  Her mother’s words validate what Awa’s knows in her heart to be true. One day she will travel across the Sahara leading a Caravan.
Determined to fill her life with exploration and adventure seventeen year old Awa Camara; eldest daughter of Mali’s wealthiest salt Julla (trader/merchant) is determined to follow in her father’s footsteps.  Unfortunately for Awa these desires are un-conventional and become dismissed when her ambitious father is able to secure her marriage to the King’s son.   Through this advantageous marriage Awa’s father stands to gain military protection for all of his trade routes. 
As Princess of Mali Awa’s chances of sailing across the desert, appear to sink beneath the sands as nothing more than figments of childhood fantasy.  Unable to have any say in the matter the un-pretentious Awa is unsure of which path to take. Certain that her destiny should lay in her own hands Awa decides to run away.
This coming of age novel reveals the voyage of a strong willed and determined girl who discovers her purpose along an uncharted path. Journey with Awa as she encounters experiences that will give her the constitution to be the woman that she is destined to be.    

Nefretiti A. Morant was born in the United Kingdom to Barbadian Parents.   She has always possessed a love for the written word. Graduating with a Bachelors in Psychology from The University of Pittsburgh in 2004, Nefretiti uses her knowledge of human behavior to build life like characters, that entertain in colorful prose.   Her literature offers realistic, inspiring and feel good reading; all of which have solidified her brand within the literary and internet community.

Nefretiti’s inspiration for writing comes from her belief in positive

 thinking and her desire to inspire individuals from all walks of 

life.  The Queens, New York native currently resides in Atlanta,

 Georgia with her husband and two children.

Monday, September 28, 2015

My Heart Belongs to Only You Tour by, Melissa Storm

My Heart Belongs to Only You

Review Tour

by, Melissa Storm

Melissa Storm is a mother first, and everything else second. She used to write under a pseudonym, but finally had the confidence to come out as herself to the world. Her fiction is highly personal and often based on true stories. Writing is Melissa's way of showing her daughter just how beautiful life can be, when you pay attention to the everyday wonders that surround us.
Melissa loves books so much, she married fellow author Falcon Storm. Between the two of them, there are always plenty of imaginative, awe-inspiring stories to share. Melissa and Falcon also run the business Novel Publicity together, where she works as publisher, marketer, editor, and all-around business mogul. When she's not reading, writing, or child-rearing, Melissa spends time relaxing at home in the company of her three dogs and five parrots. She never misses an episode of The Bachelor or her nightly lavender-infused soak in the tub. Ahh, the simple luxuries that make life worth living.
Learn more about Melissa's books at www.MelStorm.com, her business at www.NovelPublicity.com, and her other author alias at www.EmlynChand.com. Learn more about her life on FacebookPinterestTwitter, or Google+.

Can two broken hearts heal together?
Every day Rip Rockwell fights the guilt—the guilt that he survived the war when his best friend did not—and the shell shock. Both of which refuse to let him return to a normal civilian life. When he meets a beautiful young woman in his new neighborhood, he fights his feelings for her too. After all, he doesn’t deserve to be happy when it’s his fault his best friend died.
Deborah Walker gave her heart to a man who disappeared in war-torn Korea. While she wants to keep her promise to wait for him, she also has no idea whether he survived the battle that rendered him MIA. When a handsome veteran moves in next door, she denies her growing attraction to him, especially since his very presence reminds her of the man she’s already lost.
Can Rip and Deborah find a way to heal together, or are they destined for an endless series of heartbreaks?

My Love Will Set You Free is more than a romance novella. It is an eloquently written look into the human heart and soul when uncertainty, heartbreak, and hope are presented. From the very first line in the story the reader will be captivated. The writing is poetic, crisp, and beautiful. I found myself flipping through the pages with eagerness to find out if the main character would find love a new love, or would her lover return? The characters all feel real, as does the dialogue. Nothing is lacking in this story, and I highly recommend it to anyone looking for a deep, emotional, yet uplifting love story.


Saturday, September 26, 2015




The room was plain. Four white walls. Two dark and heavy doors. One door opened into the crisp fall air, while the other led to a white-walled hallway where footsteps echoed throughout the day. The furniture had been appropriately spaced, theoretically to give each family comfortable leg room. None of them had the luxury of privacy, not even in this small enclosed area. It was the one place where juvenile delinquents could visit whatever link remained to the outside world. For him, it was his brother and mother. His mother refused to step through that door. Only his brother visited.
For the umpteenth time Cristobal scanned the foyer by the visitor entrance, then glanced over his shoulder at the door behind him. He wiped his sweaty palms on his orange jumpsuit. The other orange blobs that surrounded him talked and laughed. Only the corner table had been unoccupied when he arrived fifteen minutes earlier. Isolation sucked, but he had no choice. His eyes drifted from the noise to the Bible that lay open in front of him. He closed the Bible and settled his hand atop it. How would his brother react if he saw the thing? Maybe he shouldn’t have the Bible out. Then where did it belong? Far away or close to his heart? He removed the Bible from the table and paused as his chest tightened. It was the right decision. His beliefs did not falter, but would his brother readily accept them? With a deep breath, he tucked the Bible safely under his leg.
Cristobal rubbed at his chest, but nothing helped. This conversation needed to wait for another day. He cracked his neck, wiped his hands on the jumpsuit again and stood. Turning toward the door behind him, he reached for the Bible as the visitor door opened and closed. Two voices in the foyer echoed over the din as if someone was getting checked in. Slowly Cristobal straightened. Please, don’t let it be his brother. Just one more day. Sweet silence in the foyer returned.
“Mi hermano.”
Dammit! Guess it is now or never. Cristobal turned around and smiled at his brother. They clasped hands and hugged. “Gervasio, it’s good to see you. Look at you. Where did this muscle come from? You seem stronger.”
“Sí, yo soy. I make gym at home, but you, you waste away. What I tell madre?” Gervasio grabbed a chair and sat.
Thankfully his brother hadn’t picked the chair with the Bible. Cristobal sat and with a quick glance insured his leg covered the precious item. “I’m fine. How is madre?”
“She good. Plan big party when you get released.”
Cristobal chuckled. His mother, what a wonderful supportive woman. “That is still four months away.”
“Sí. Feliz Navidad madre.” Gervasio clapped his hands together and laughed.
Would his mother celebrate his new devout view on life? She had always been a God-fearing woman. Cristobal’s smile faded. Only his brother was left. He couldn’t remember a time where Gervasio had ever gone to church or thanked God. What would he think when the Bible appeared in front of him? His spine tingled and a shudder grappled his body. Cristobal gripped his legs and barely contained himself.
Gervasio raised a brow. “What is this look?”
“What look?”
“No soy estúpido. Mi hermano, habla conmigo. ¿Cual es el problema?” I’m not stupid. My brother, talk to me. What is the problem?
Cristobal sighed. To talk freely with his brother would be an experience, one he had only had once. All their life he had kept many things from his brother. The first thing he ever learned from Gervasio was how to avoid psychotic behavior. The one time he was completely open with his brother had been a horrible mistake. His brother exploded and nearly killed him. And there he sat prepared to face the demon for the second time in his life. Cristobal grasped the spine of the Bible. His brother and mother were all he had in this world. If he revealed the truth, how much of his family would be left?
“It cannot be big deal. You sixteen, you live here and do nothing, but mop and read.”
Cristobal’s jaw slackened. He never mentioned reading to his brother before. How had he known?
“Ah, yes.” Gervasio wagged his finger. “Problem with reading. Vamos. Dime.” Come now. Tell me.
If Cristobal placed the Bible on the table, would his brother accept it?
“You must read books. Only way you look so place. No hay sol en la biblioteca.” There is no sun in the library.
“Sí. Leí libros.” Yes. I read books.
Gervasio waved his hand as if he swatted a fly. “No te preocupes.” Do not worry. He clasped his hands together and leaned forward on the table. “Books make you smart. Madre be happy you continue education. Y el conocimiento es útil para nosotros.” And knowledge is useful to us.
Us? The truth had finally been revealed. For a moment, Gervasio was a loving brother. Not the leader of The Grim Reapers. In one statement that all disappeared. Cristobal studied his brother’s features. He held onto the soft color of his brother’s brown eyes and the black curls around the edges of Gervasio’s face. Cristobal locked the memory in place. He removed the Bible from under his leg and placed it on top of the table.
Gervasio leaped out of the chair and hissed as if the mere sight of the object burned. “¿Qué es esto?”
What’s this? That is an interesting question. Cristobal covered his mouth and stifled a chuckle. His brother hadn’t asked to be literal, but a literal answer was undeniable and pointless. “It is the truth of my world.”
“¡Usted miente!” You lie!
“Es la verdad. I have accepted Jesus Christ into my heart. I won’t go back to my old life.” It’s the truth.
Gervasio slammed his fist on the table and growled. “¡No! Es imposible.”
The air thickened around them and a whole lot of eyes turned their way. He refused to be bullied. Cristobal pushed forward even if it meant losing his brother. “I have made my choice. Usted no me puede obligar a cambiar de opinión.” You cannot force me to change my mind.
Gervasio leaned closer and shoved his finger in his brother’s face. “Hay sólo dos maneras de salir. Si usted no cambia, no voy a detenerlo.” There is only two ways out. If you do not change, I will not stop it.
“Que así sea.” So be it.
Gervasio snarled and pushed up off the table. He turned and started to walk away.
“Mi hermano — ”
Gervasio spun back around and slammed his fist on the table again. “¡No me llames así! No tengo ningún hermano. Estás muerto para mí.” Do not call me that! I have no brother. You’re dead to me.
Cristobal’s jaw dropped. Of all the scenarios he had pictured, this was not one of them. He swallowed the saliva in his throat. He would not cry at the loss. Once again his chest constricted. He rubbed at the ache in his heart.
“Who gave you that thing?”
“It’s not important.”
Gervasio crossed his arms. His jaw hardened, eyes narrowed into small slits, and lips tightened emphasizing the scar that ran vertically on the right side of his face. It was almost as if Diablo himself had joined them. “The preacher man. He has daughter, does he not?”
Cristobal interlinked his arms and kept his mouth shut. This tactic had been pulled one too many times and he had witnessed all of them. He refused to let it work on him.
“Yes, he does. It on your face.” A wide-sadistic grin spread across Gervasio’s lips. He walked away and cackled like a group of hyenas.
Cristobal dropped his arms and stared after his brother. What had he just done?

Chapter One

Bella braided her long dark locks for the second time. She scanned the hallway. Several other students had arrived early for the first day of school at Jackson Heights, one of the few high schools in Rescate County, New Mexico. Had they arrived early on purpose? She didn’t know any of them so need to ask. She kicked up her chin and studied her reflection in the small mirror hung in her locker. What would it be like if she had lighter skin like her father? Not her mother’s mocha color. What if she cut her hair? Currently it hung down to her waist. What if she had bright, sparkly blue eyes instead of a dull hazel? Maybe then she would be pretty. That kind of attention might be nice. Who was she kidding? She could barely deal with negative attention, let alone positive attention. If she had her way, she wouldn’t get any attention. She was half Brazilian and half American-Chinese. An unusual combination, but who was she to deny the truth? Of course, most people poked fun at the way she dressed, not the color of her skin.
Bella glanced at the hand of the silver watch on her right wrist. School wouldn’t start for another twenty minutes, but she had a meeting to go to. The principal called the house a couple days ago and asked her to see him before first bell. He hadn’t told her why on the phone, but there could only be one reason – the tutor group. She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. This was going to be bad, but she would do what needed to be done. Deep breath. She brushed down the full length denim skirt and tugged the bottom of the white short-sleeve blouse down, then grabbed a book and notebook for her first class. There was no reason to come back. With one more deep breath, she closed her locker and walked down the hall. She rounded the corner to the administrative office and paused. What the hell?
Sarresh Zirlan stepped out of the administrative office and stopped.
Great, just who she needed to cross. They hadn’t spoken in over a year, not since their fight. They avoided each other over the summer and in school. The same rules applied even if it was a new school year. She just had to ignore her former best-friend and everything would be okay. Bella swallowed to wet her throat and walked in the direction of the administrative door.
“If I called you virgin-walking right now, would you be offended?”
Bella pulled her things closer to her body. She shouldn’t engage, but she couldn’t play nice either. “Nice to see you too, Z. How is everything at home? You must be doing just fine. After all it looks like you’ve gained —”
“Still a bitch.”
“Said the slut.”
“At least I know your opinion of me hasn’t changed.”
She was joking, right? She had a lot of nerve. Bella narrowed her eyes. “You sleep around with a bunch of guys and expect me to respect that? And it doesn’t look like that has changed since obviously one of them has —”
“I must’ve been insane to be friends with you. Good thing I fixed that.” Sarresh grinned as she had the last word and walked away.
Bella shook her head. Why had she started? Every argument they had ever gotten into always ended one way – Sarresh on top. She hadn’t planned to fight with the girl and managed to do so. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she have just kept her mouth shut and gone forward. No. She had to say something. A small sigh escaped past her lips. She could chastise herself all she wanted, but it mattered little. The actions taken couldn’t be changed. Instead she simply had to move on with the rest of her day, but what a way to begin the school year. What else could go wrong? Bella walked into the administrative office. “Morning Mrs. Brown.”
Mrs. Brown smiled and stood. She was a total of four foot five, the extra inches provided by the five inch heels the woman refused to live without. “Good Morning, Miss Naughton. How was your summer?”
Bella smiled. The purple suit Mrs. Brown wore was a bad idea. Her natural plumpness made her look like a plum. Good thing Bella was used to her outlandish clothes. At least she could say she never laughed. “It was good. Yours?”
“It was wonderful. Mr. Brown and I went on a cruise to the Bahamas. It was so warm and beautiful, we never wanted to leave.”
Sounded peaceful. “I bet it was hard to come back.”
“Oh posh. I’m not ready to retire yet. I still have a few good years on these tires. Enough about me. What did you do this summer? Anything exciting?”
This had been their routine for the past couple of years. Anytime a vacation period came up they always shared. While Mrs. Brown’s were always exciting, hers were typically boring. She never really did anything or it just wasn’t all that news-worthy. This time was no different. “I got promoted to the lead vocalist in our church choir.”
“How wonderful!”
Bella shrugged. “I guess.”
“You should be proud of yourself. That is quite an accomplishment.”
“Sure.” Her parents had been proud, but not her. She liked to sing, but it was better in the background. People were less likely to know if she screwed up. Now it was different. What if she forgot the words? Or got the melody wrong? She would be up front and center, not somewhere she planned to be, ever. But it was best to convince everyone she was happy about it. The phone on Mrs. Brown’s desk rang.
“He’s ready for you.”
Good, a distraction from the mess in her already cluttered mind. Bella walked into the principal’s office.
“Close the door behind you, Miss Naughton.”
Bella shut the door, headed to the chair and sat.
“Thank you for coming in, Miss Naughton.” The principal clasped his hands together and circled his thumbs around one another.
“Sure.” What was going on? Was he nervous? Oh no. This was definitely not good. Something was going to change. Why couldn’t he have just told her over the phone? Bella frowned. “Why am I here?”
“I would like to discuss a couple of things with you. One, we have a few transfer students and I want you to be a student buddy to one of them.”
Whew! Bella slumped in the chair and released a breath. She could handle a transfer student. If it was Vick, the assignment would be a breeze. They had practically grown up together. “Sure. I can do that.”
“Good. I’ll be assigning you to Jeremiah Detrone. Come by tomorrow after your last class.”
“Ah, sure. Yeah. Okay.” A new person? Okay, no big deal. All she had to do was show him around until he got the hang of things. She could manage that.
“Second, I need to discuss the Head Tutor position with you.”
Bella straightened in the chair. “What about it?”
“As you know we normally elect a senior, except none of them qualified for the position this year. With the full support of the staff, I have decided to appoint you.”
What? Bella blinked. “I’m sorry. What was that?”
“I’m appointing you as Head Tutor.”
This was not happening. Bella rested a hand on her chest as her breathing became labored and her throat closed up. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Her eyes darted from one side of the room to the other. Had the room shrunk? She stood and her things landed on the floor. She walked from one side of the room to the other and returned to the chair. She gripped the back of the chair, inhaled two ragged breaths, and stared at the principal. “You can’t be serious? I’m not qualified. I don’t lead.”
“You meet all the requirements. Previously in the group and grades.” The principal ticked the two things off as if they hardly mattered.
“I haven’t lead at anything. I’m not a leader.”
“Didn’t I overhear you tell Mrs. Brown you got the lead vocalist position at church?”
“That’s different. I don’t lead. I don’t make any decisions. I just sing. Principal Owen, there has to be somebody else. Anybody else.”
“I’m sorry, but there isn’t.”
Bella pushed off the chair, paced from one side of the room to the other and chewed on the inside of her cheek. There had to be someone else who could lead. And if he was right and there really wasn’t anyone else, what the hell would she do? Would the group fall apart if she refused? Could she refuse? She pulled the length of her braid over her shoulder and played with the ends. Maybe there was someone else. She straightened and turned toward the principal. “What about Regina McKamey or Sean Johnson?”
“I’m afraid not.”
Bella tossed her braid back over her shoulder, walked to the chair and dropped down. She buried her head in her hands and rubbed her face. There had to be another option. Wait. She popped up out of her seat. “What about Victor Hilliard? He’s got the grades and he’s a senior.”
“And a transfer student. You know the rules.”
“Can’t you make an exception?”
“I am. I’m giving the position to a junior.”
Bella sat again. Life in the background had ended. She closed her eyes and wiped at the tears that threatened to spill over. “What happens if I don’t take the position?”
“The group will have to be disbanded.” The principal stood and walked around to the front of his desk. He leaned back and crossed his arms. “Have you considered you might enjoy it?”
He had her. She refused to be small enough to let the group end. Not on her watch. She just had to make this work in her favor. Bella nodded. “Okay. I accept, but on one condition.”

Purchase links: (Amazon - print & kindle) http://amzn.to/1vplIxS, (Barnes & Noble) http://bit.ly/1BK79FF

Social Media links: (blog/website) www.krysfenner.co, (Facebook) https://www.facebook.com/KrysFenner, (Twitter) @KrysFenner, (Pinterest) http://www.pinterest.com/krysfenner3/

Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Quick Fire Q&A with Maggie David

Quick Fire Q&A with Maggie David

1. Coffee or tea?  Green tea

2.  What do you listen to while writing? Focus music on YouTube

3.  Favorite place to travel? Whitsundays - Australia

4.  Favorite TV show or movie? Mrs. Browns Boys TV Series

5.  If you could meet any celebrity or historical figure, who would it be? Sir Richard Branson

From a tiny child I have always loved books. I can remember back to when I was about 5 and sitting with my Dad(who was an avid reader) at the table reading my books. Books opened my eyes and made me realize that words were “Special”. They can bring joy, bring sadness, bring smiles, bring frowns and tell stories. The words in one book, can conjure up images of characters, which can be different for each person reading, words to me are awe inspiring.
As I grew up writing became one of my passions, and still is to this day.
My childhood was rich with wonderful experiences of playing in woodlands and fields in England with my cousins surrounded by my dogs and being taught by my Grandad who was a Master Baker and Grannie how to grow foods, raise animals, produce jams, pickles and cakes that melt in your mouth.
I have been a lifetime student gaining many, many qualifications in several fields of expertise, this knowledge plus my childhood memories and lessons have enriched my writing as I can share with others those memories, my knowledge and my stories.
I adore telling stories to children about my 4 dogs, especially one “Popsie” a little mischief maker, and these have been brought to life in “The Adventures of Popsie and Friends” book series which can be found in the Kindle Store.
I own the following business Oils Of the Earth Pty Ltd. Plus have many successful websites.
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