The Hawkweed Legacy   ( The Hawkweed Prophecy #2) Irena Brignull from Hachette  // HBG From screenwriter Irena Brignull, the stunning seque...

The Hawkweed Legacy by Irena Brignull Giveaway (continental US only)

The Hawkweed Legacy (The Hawkweed Prophecy #2)
Irena Brignull
from Hachette // HBG

From screenwriter Irena Brignull, the stunning sequel to her critically acclaimed YA debut, The Hawkweed Prophecy about a young witch forced to choose between love and magic.

Poppy is discovering a purpose for her powers in Africa, but she is haunted by a vision of her own death. Taken in by a boy and his great-grandmother, a healer, they vow to keep her safe-even if that ultimately means holding her captive. But Poppy never stops longing for Leo and, when she feels his magic begin to spark, she will do anything to be reunited with him.

Desperate to regain Poppy�s trust and bring her home, Charlock embarks on a plan to reunite Leo with his mother. What Charlock doesn�t foresee are the string of consequences that she sets into motion that leave Ember all alone and prey to manipulation, the clan open to attack from other witches, Sorrel vulnerable to Raven�s ghost, Betony determined to protect her son from his father�s fate, and which leave both Leo and Poppy in terrible danger.

Giveaway!


Books � la Mode is giving away one print copy of The Hawkweed Legacy�yay!!

To enter, all you have to do is tell me, just for fun:
What is your astrological sign? Do you fit its description?
I am a Leo-Virgo cusp. Most charts categorize me as a Leo but I've never fully identified with being "king of the jungle." In fact, most of the time I prefer not to be in the spotlight. When I learned that my birthday is on the cusp between the Leo/Virgo cutoff, it made so much more sense to me!

Please make your comment MEANINGFUL. Comments solely consisting of stock responses or irrelevant fluff like "Thanks for the giveaway!" will not be considered for entry. Irena and I really want to hear from you guys! :)

Don't forget the entry eligibility terms and conditions!
Sponsored wholly by the publicist�a huge thank you to the lovely folks at Little Bird Publicity!
Giveaway ends September 12th at 11.59 PM (your time).
Open to continental US readers only. Sorry, everyone else! Please check my sidebar for a list of currently running giveaways that are open internationally. There are plenty to choose from!
Void where prohibited.
Winners have 48 hours to claim their prize once they are chosen, or else their winnings will be forfeited.
Although I do randomly select winners, I am in no way responsible for prizes, nor for shipping and handling.
As a reminder, you do not have to follow my blog to enter, though it is always very much appreciated ?
Good luck!

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Good Time Cowboy   ( Gold Valley #3) Maisey Yates from HQN //  Harlequin In Gold Valley, Oregon, forbidden desire just might turn into the...

Exclusive Sneak Peek: Good Time Cowboy by Maisey Yates + Giveaway (US/Can)

Good Time Cowboy (Gold Valley #3)
Maisey Yates
from HQN // Harlequin

In Gold Valley, Oregon, forbidden desire just might turn into the love of a lifetime...

When Lindy Parker lost her cheating husband, she gained a vineyard. She�ll do anything for Grassroots Winery, including teaming up with the hottest devil she knows, rancher Wyatt Dodge. Wyatt is her ex�s friend and has an ego as big as the bulls he rides. But in spite of that, disciplined Lindy has always wanted him...

Lightning struck Wyatt Dodge the first time he saw Lindy Parker. But there were two problems with that: she was married to his friend, and Wyatt doesn�t do strings. But now Lindy is free, and the two of them can finally explore the heat that�s burned between them for so long. But can Lindy make this good time cowboy decide on forever?


She wasn�t sure what was worse: letting everyone know just what an idiot she was, or letting them continue to believe that she was a heartless gold digger. She had a feeling that public opinion on her was split down the middle.

But Wyatt thought that Damien was an idiot.

Which was perhaps why she felt even the tiniest bit charitable toward him. Was perhaps why she wasn�t so completely opposed to going on a trail ride with him today.

She ruminated on that while she got dressed. She found a pair of nice jeans�much more casual than she would normally wear�and a dark-colored button-up top that wouldn�t show any dirt she might pick up during the ride.

She pinned her blond hair back in a low bun and looked at her reflection critically. She was hardly recognizable as the person she used to be. The person she�d been before she had started dating Damien.

She was sleeker now. Much more sophisticated.

She used to be proud of that. The distance she had put between herself and what she�d been. Now, it felt a little bit like a poisoned chalice. After all, she was partly who she was because of Damien. And she... In the end, she despised what he stood for. What he could allow. What had been acceptable to him. He had asked her one time to forgive him. Had told her that she was making a big mistake throwing their marriage away over a physical relationship.

He had said that sex didn�t matter.

But sex had mattered when she�d been a twenty-year-old virgin, cautiously giving him her body. He had said that it meant the world then. And that even though he had been with a couple of other women they didn�t matter, not in light of what sex between them meant. Because he�d said that with her it had been love. It had been everything.

After being married to the man for ten years she was supposed to believe that sex could also be nothing. As long as it was shared with someone else. Even though he had made vows to her.

She had wanted to scream. She had wanted to cry. To let her inner trailer park out, throw something at him, call him a string of foul names. But she hadn�t been able to. She�d been frozen. Frozen inside the body, inside the image that they had created together.

She hadn�t shed a single tear. Not then, not after.

She had simply told him no. That there was nothing left for them. That there would be no future for the two of them. Not after a betrayal like that. He had gotten angry after that. He had blamed the dissolution of their marriage on her.

And after that�he had told her there was no other chance to get back with him. That he was leaving her for the other woman. That he was in love with her, and it didn�t mean nothing. That she was the most important relationship in his life.

Not Lindy.

About the Author


New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author Maisey Yates lives in rural Oregon with her three children and her husband, whose chiseled jaw and arresting features continue to make her swoon. She feels the epic trek she takes several times a day from her office to her coffee maker is a true example of her pioneer spirit.

In 2009, at the age of twenty-three Maisey sold her first book. Since then it�s been a whirlwind of sexy alpha males and happily ever afters, and she wouldn�t have it any other way. Maisey divides her writing time between dark, passionate category romances set just about everywhere on earth and light sexy contemporary romances set practically in her back yard. She believes that she clearly has the best job in the world.



Giveaway!

Books � la Mode is giving away a print copy of Good Time Cowboy�yay!

To enter, all you have to do is tell me in the comments below:
What is the most romantic thing someone has done for you?
Please make your comment MEANINGFUL. Comments solely consisting of stock responses or irrelevant fluff like "Thanks for the giveaway!" will not be considered for entry. Maisey and I really want to hear from you guys! :)

I consider meaningful moments to be more romantic than grand gestures. Flowers and fancy dinners are nice, but the time my boyfriend at the time sent me a handwritten letter while he was abroad was really significant!

Don't forget the entry eligibility terms and conditions!
Sponsored wholly by the tour publicist and publisher�a huge thank you to TLC Book Tours and HQN Books!
Giveaway ends September 5th at 11.59 PM (your time).
Open to US and Canada readers only�sorry, everyone else! Please check my sidebar for the list of currently running giveaways that are open worldwide. There are plenty to choose from!
Void where prohibited.
Winners have 48 hours to claim their prize once they are chosen, or else their winnings will be forfeited.
Although I do randomly select winners, I am in no way responsible for prizes, nor for shipping and handling.
As a reminder, you do not have to follow my blog to enter, though it is always very much appreciated ?
Good luck!

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Not Her Daughter Rea Frey St. Martin's Griffin // St. Martin's Press Gripping, emotional, and wire-taut, Not Her Daughter raises th...

Not Her Daughter by Rea Frey Giveaway (US/Can)

Not Her Daughter
Rea Frey
St. Martin's Griffin // St. Martin's Press

Gripping, emotional, and wire-taut, Not Her Daughter raises the question of what it means to be a mother�and how far someone will go to keep a child safe.

Emma Townsend. Five years old. Gray eyes, brown hair. Missing since June.

Emma is lonely. Living with her cruel mother and clueless father, Emma retreats into her own world of quiet and solitude.

Sarah Walker. Successful entrepreneur. Broken-hearted. Kidnapper.

Sarah has never seen a girl so precious as the gray-eyed child in a crowded airport terminal. When a second-chance encounter with Emma presents itself, Sarah takes her�far away from home. But if it�s to rescue a little girl from her damaging mother, is kidnapping wrong?

Amy Townsend. Unhappy wife. Unfit mother. Unsure whether she wants her daughter back.

Amy�s life is a string of disappointments, but her biggest issue is her inability to connect with her daughter. And now Emma is gone without a trace.

As Sarah and Emma avoid the nationwide hunt, they form an unshakeable bond. But what about Emma�s real mother, back at home?

Giveaway!

Books � la Mode is giving away one print copy of Not Her Daughter�yay!

To enter, all you have to do is tell me in the comments below:
What is a brand you are loyal to? It can be anything! Are there any products you'd never even consider trying another brand of?
Please make your comment MEANINGFUL. Comments solely consisting of stock responses or irrelevant fluff like "Thanks for the giveaway!" will not be considered for entry. Rea and I really want to hear from you guys! :)

I loooove Kettle brand potato chips. I won't touch any other type of potato chip :D For skincare, I love everything Dr. G releases (BB cream, moisturizer, sunscreen, essence, etc.) I'll use other things of course, but I consistently like everything they come out with, without fail. It's a comforting feeling!

Don't forget the entry eligibility terms and conditions!
Sponsored wholly by the publisher�a huge thank you to the lovely folks over at St. Martin's Press!
Giveaway ends September 4th at 11.59 PM (your time).
Open to US and Canada residents only�sorry, everyone else! Please check my sidebar for a list of currently running giveaways that are open worldwide. There are plenty to choose from!
Void where prohibited.
Winners have 48 hours to claim their prize once they are chosen, or else their winnings will be forfeited.
Although I do randomly select winners, I am in no way responsible for prizes, nor for shipping and handling.
As a reminder, you do not have to follow my blog to enter, though it is always very much appreciated ?
Good luck!

0 coment�rios:

The Black Witch   ( The Black Witch Chronicles #1) Laurie Forest from HarlequinTEEN //  Harlequin A new Black Witch will rise... her power...

Exclusive Sneak Peek: The Black Witch by Laurie Forest + Giveaway (US only)

The Black Witch (The Black Witch Chronicles #1)
Laurie Forest
from HarlequinTEEN // Harlequin

A new Black Witch will rise... her powers vast beyond imagining.

A Great Winged One will soon arise and cast his fearsome shadow upon the land. And just as Night slays Day, and Day slays Night, so also shall another Black Witch rise to meet him, her powers vast beyond imagining.

So foretells the greatest prophecy of the Gardnerian mages. Carnissa Gardner, the last prophesied Black Witch, drove back the enemy forces and saved her people during the Realm War. Now a new evil is on the horizon, and her granddaughter, Elloren, is believed to be Carnissa�s heir�but while she is the absolute image of her famous grandmother, Elloren is utterly devoid of power in a society that prizes magical ability above nearly all else.

When she is granted the opportunity to pursue her lifelong dream of becoming an apothecary, Elloren is eager to join her brothers at the prestigious Verpax University and finally embrace a destiny of her own, free from the shadow of her grandmother�s legacy. But she soon realizes that the university, which admits all manner of people�including the fire-wielding, winged Icarals, the sworn enemies of all Gardnerians�is an even more treacherous place for the granddaughter of the Black Witch.


CHAPTER TWO
Aunt Vyvian

The Gaffney twins buzz past as I make my way into the kitchen, which is now full of friendly, boisterous noise.

My aunt stands with her back to me as she kisses Rafe on both cheeks in greeting. My uncle shakes hands with Gareth, and the twins are practically hanging from Trystan while holding up their toys for his inspection.

My aunt releases Rafe, stops admiring how tall he�s become, and turns toward me in one fluid, graceful movement.

Her gaze lights on me and she freezes, her eyes gone wide as if she�s come face-to-face with a ghost.

The room grows silent as everyone else turns their attention toward us, curious as to what�s amiss. Only my uncle does not look confused�his expression grown oddly dark and worried.

�Elloren,� Aunt Vyvian breathes, �you have grown into the absolute image of your grandmother.�

It�s a huge compliment, and I want to believe it. My grandmother was not only one of my people�s most powerful Mages, she was also considered to be very beautiful.

�Thank you,� I say shyly.

Her eyes wander down toward my plain, homespun clothing.

If ever there was anyone who looks out of place in our tiny kitchen, it�s my aunt. She stands there, studying me, amidst the battered wooden furniture, soup and stew pots simmering on our cookstove and bunches of drying herbs hanging from the ceiling.

She�s like a fine painting hanging in a farmer�s market stall.

I take in her stunning, black, formfitting tunic that hangs over a long, dark skirt, the silk embroidered with delicate, curling vines. My aunt is the absolute epitome of what a Gardnerian woman is supposed to look like�waist-length black hair, deep green eyes and swirling black wandfasting lines marking her hands.

I�m suddenly acutely aware of the sad state of my own appearance. At seventeen, I�m tall and slender with the same black hair and forest green eyes of my aunt, but any resemblance ends there. I�m dressed in a shapeless brown woolen tunic and skirt, no makeup (I don�t own any), my hair is tied into its usual messy bun and my face is all sharp, severe angles, not smooth, pretty lines like my aunt�s.

My aunt sweeps forward and embraces me, obviously not as dismayed by my appearance as I am. She kisses both my cheeks and steps back, her hands still grasping my upper arms. �I just cannot believe how much you look like her,� she says with awed admiration. Her eyes grow wistful. �I wish you could have gotten to know her, Elloren.�

�I do, too,� I tell her, warmed by my aunt�s approval.

Aunt Vyvian�s eyes glisten with emotion. �She was a great Mage. The finest ever. It�s a heritage to be proud of.�

My uncle begins scurrying around the kitchen, setting out teacups and plates, clunking them down on the table a little too loudly. He doesn�t look at me as he fusses, and I�m confused by his odd behavior. Gareth stands rooted by the woodstove, his muscular arms crossed, watching my aunt and me intently.

�You must be tired after your trip,� I say to my aunt, feeling nervous and thrilled to be in her lofty presence. �Why don�t you sit down and rest? I�ll get some biscuits to go with the tea.�

Aunt Vyvian joins Rafe and Trystan at the table while I fetch the food, and Uncle Edwin pours tea for everyone.

�Elloren.� My aunt pauses to sip at her tea. �I know you overheard my conversation with your uncle, and I�m glad you did. What do you think about being fasted before you go to University?�

�Now, Vyvian,� my uncle cuts in, almost dropping the teapot, �there�s no point in bringing this up. I told you my decision was final.�

�Yes, yes, Edwin, but there�s no harm in getting the girl�s opinion, is there? What do you say, Elloren? You know that most of the young girls your age are already wandfasted, or about to be.�

My cheeks grow warm. �I, um... we�ve never talked much about it.� I envy Trystan and Rafe as they sit playing with the twins and their toys. Why isn�t this conversation about Rafe? He�s nineteen!

�Well�� my aunt shoots a disapproving look at my uncle ��it�s high time you did discuss it. As you overheard, I�m taking you with me when I leave tomorrow. We�ll spend the next few weeks together, and I�ll tell you all about wandfasting and what I know about the University. We�ll also get you a new wardrobe while we�re in Valgard, and your brothers can meet up with us for a day or two. What do you say to that?�

Leaving tomorrow. For Valgard and the University! The thought of venturing out of isolated Halfix sends ripples of excitement through me. I glance at my uncle, who wears an uneasy look on his face, his lips tightly pursed.

�I�d like that very much, Aunt Vyvian,� I answer politely, trying to keep my overwhelming excitement at bay.

Gareth shoots me a look of warning, and I cock my head at him questioningly.

My aunt narrows her eyes at Gareth. �Gareth,� she says pleasantly, �I had the privilege of working with your father before he retired from his position as head of the Maritime Guild.�

�He didn�t retire,� Gareth corrects, stiff challenge in his tone. �He was forced to resign.�

The kitchen quiets, even the twins sensing the sudden tension in the air. My uncle catches Gareth�s eye and slightly motions his head from side to side, as if in caution.

�Well,� says my aunt, still smiling, �you certainly speak your mind very frankly. Perhaps talk of politics is best left to those of us who have finished our schooling.�

�I have to be going,� Gareth announces, his tone clipped. He turns to me. �Ren, I�ll come by to see you when you�re in Valgard. Maybe I can take you sailing.�

My aunt is studying me closely. I blush, realizing what conclusion she must be forming in her mind about the nature of my relationship with Gareth. I don�t want to respond too enthusiastically, to give the wrong impression. But I don�t want to hurt Gareth�s feelings, either.

�All right, I�ll see you there,� I tell Gareth, �but I might not have time for sailing.�

Gareth throws a parting, resentful look at my aunt. �That�s okay, Ren. Maybe I can bring you by to say hello to my family at least. I know my father would love to see you.�

I glance over at my aunt. She�s calmly sipping her tea, but the corner of her lip twitches at the mention of Gareth�s father.

�I�d like that,� I say cautiously. �I haven�t seen him in a long time.�

�Well, then,� Gareth says, his face tense, �I�ll be off.�

Rafe gets up to see him out, the legs of his chair squeaking against the wooden floor as he pushes it from the table.

Trystan gets up, too, followed by my uncle and the twins, and all the males make their way out of the kitchen. I sit down, feeling self-conscious. My aunt and I are alone. She�s tranquilly sipping her tea and studying me with sharp, intelligent eyes. �Gareth seems to take quite the interest in you, my dear,� she muses.

My face grows hot again. �Oh, no... it�s not like that,� I stammer. �He�s just a friend.�

My aunt leans forward and places a graceful hand on mine.

�You aren�t a child anymore, Elloren. More and more, your future will be decided by the company you keep.� She looks at me meaningfully, then sits back, her expression lightening. �I am so glad your uncle has finally come to his senses and is letting you spend some time with me. I have a number of young men I am very eager for you to meet.�

* * *

Later, after we have eaten supper, I make my way outside to bring the leftover scraps from dinner to the few pigs we keep. The days are getting shorter, the shadows longer, and a chill is steadily creeping in, the sun less and less able to fight it off.

Before, in the light of day, the idea of attending University seemed like an exciting adventure, but as the tide of night slowly sweeps in, I begin to feel apprehension coming in with it.

As eager as I am to see the wider world, there�s a part of me that likes my quiet life here with my uncle, tending the gardens and the animals, making simple medicines, crafting violins, reading, sewing.

So quiet. So safe.

I peer out into the distance, past the garden where the twins were playing, past the Gaffneys� farmland and estate, past the sprawling wilderness, to the mountains beyond�mountains that loom in the distance and cast dark shadows over everything as the sun sets behind them. And the forest�the wild forest.

I squint into the distance and make out the curious shapes of several large white birds flying in from the wilds. They�re different from any birds I�ve ever seen before, with huge, fanning wings, so light they seem iridescent.

As I watch them, I�m overcome by a strange sense of foreboding, as if the earth is shifting beneath my feet.

I forget, for a moment, about the basket of pig slop I�m balancing on my hip, and some large vegetable remnants fall to the ground with a dull thud. I glance down and stoop to gather them back into the basket.

When I straighten again and look for the strange white birds, they�re gone.

***

Like what you read so far? Buy the book here, and don�t forget to pre-order book two in The Black Witch Chronicles, The Iron Flower, on sale next month!

Excerpted from The Black Witch by Laurie Forest, copyright 2017 by Laurie Forest. Reprinted with permission by HarperCollins Publishers.

About the Author


Laurie Forest lives deep in the backwoods of Vermont where she sits in front of a wood stove drinking strong tea and dreaming up tales full of dryads, dragons and wands.

The Black Witch (Book 1.0, The Black Witch Chronicles � OUT NOW) & Wandfasted (Book 0.5, The Black Witch Chronicles Prequel) are her first published novels. Coming in 2018 are Light Mage (Book 1.5) & The Iron Flower (Book 2.0).

She is currently ensconced in the woods, hard at work on The Shadow Dryad (Book 3.0).



Giveaway!

Books � la Mode is giving away a print copy of The Black Witch�yay!

To enter, all you have to do is tell me in the comments below:
What is your favorite book, movie, TV show, or series about witches?
Please make your comment MEANINGFUL. Comments solely consisting of stock responses or irrelevant fluff like "Thanks for the giveaway!" will not be considered for entry. Laurie and I really want to hear from you guys! :)

Charmed is my favorite, hands-down (although I don't think that show aged very well...). I also adored the Hollows series as a teenager.

Don't forget the entry eligibility terms and conditions!
Sponsored wholly by the tour publicist and publisher�a huge thank you to TLC Book Tours and Harlequin TEEN!
Giveaway ends August 22nd at 11.59 PM (your time).
Open to US readers only�sorry, everyone else! Please check my sidebar for the list of currently running giveaways that are open worldwide. There are plenty to choose from!
Void where prohibited.
Winners have 48 hours to claim their prize once they are chosen, or else their winnings will be forfeited.
Although I do randomly select winners, I am in no way responsible for prizes, nor for shipping and handling.
As a reminder, you do not have to follow my blog to enter, though it is always very much appreciated ?
Good luck!

0 coment�rios:

Rancher's Dream   ( The Montana Cahills #6) B.J. Daniels from HQN //  Harlequin A bride becomes a target in New York Times bestsellin...

Exclusive Sneak Peek: Rancher's Dream by B.J. Daniels + Giveaway (US/Can)

Rancher's Dream (The Montana Cahills #6)
B.J. Daniels
from HQN // Harlequin

A bride becomes a target in New York Times bestselling author B.J. Daniels�s latest can�t-miss suspense

Tragedy sent Deidre �Drey� Hunter running from rancher Hawk Cahill and into the arms of a sleek businessman who promised her a new life. But dreams of Manhattan days and cosmopolitan nights shatter when he brings her back to an ultramodern paradise in her hometown of Gilt Edge�and vanishes on their wedding night.

Taunted by seclusion and silence, Drey starts to doubt everything... including her sanity. Only Hawk, the stubborn cowboy from her school days, believes the threats are real and that someone is ready to kill. But is he willing to forgive the past if it means ending her nightmare?


She tried not to shudder. Two years ago, she�d heard that everyone in Gilt Edge was talking about the ultra�modern mansion some rich businessman was building on the side of the mountain overlooking the valley. Few people had seen it since the property was gated down on the county road and under the watchful eye of a caretaker who stayed on the estate until recently. The rest of the property was surrounded by an eight-foot-high stone fence. Ethan was determined to have his privacy.

Over those two years, several unfortunate acci�dents had occurred during construction. Three labor�ers had been injured and the first caretaker had been found dead. All of the incidents were ruled accidents and yet rumors circulated. Locals said that Mountain Crest was cursed.

Drey had scoffed at such foolishness long before she�d met Ethan and begun dating him. It surprised her, though, that when he was in Gilt Edge over seeing the building of the house�and even after it was almost finished�he always stayed at the local hotel. When she�d asked him about it, he�d said that he wanted to wait until the house was completely fin�ished.

She could feel Ethan waiting for her reaction. �It�s breathtaking.� It had certainly taken her breath away the moment the house had come into view. Followed instantly by that awful premonition. She saw at once that he�d hoped for more effusiveness. �I don�t recog�nize the architecture.� Not that as a librarian she was up on the latest architecture.

�It�s my own design,� her husband said a little stiffly as he drove slowly up the paved road. �It will grow on you.�

Again she saw herself lying facedown in the pond, the house looming over her. She tried to hide the shiver that started at the nape of her neck and crawled with icy feet down her spine. She forced the image away. It wasn�t like her to let silly rumors of a curse unnerve her. And yet when she�d glimpsed the house for the first time, she hadn�t been able to shake the horrible premonition that had come out of nowhere.

�Close your window if you�re cold,� Ethan said, ap�parently having noticed her shudder. As the road had climbed up the mountain, the air had cooled.

But as she whirred up her window, she knew it wasn�t the Montana air that was chilling her. The dark windows caught the glare of the headlights, casting odd shadows across the grounds�and skittering over the pond. She swallowed at the sight of the water and was glad when Ethan turned into the driveway at the front and killed the lights.

�For now, you won�t have any staff.�

Staff?

�I�ll see to hiring a cook, housekeeper��

�Ethan, I don�t need any of those.� Since he�d talked her into quitting her job, she would have plenty of time on her hands to take care of the house.

But he didn�t seem to hear her as he climbed out of the car. She sat for a moment, not sure if he would want to open her door, maybe carry her over the threshold. All this had happened so fast, she still felt as if caught in a whirlwind.

To say Ethan Baxter had swept her off her feet was an understatement. One moment he walked into the library and the next they were flying to Paris for din�ner or landing on a helicopter pad on a yacht in the Caribbean or getting engaged.

�I�m going to make all your dreams come true,� Ethan had promised.

And here she was on her wedding night and nothing about it was as she�d once dreamed. Dierdre �Drey� Hunter Baxter. Married.

Married to the wrong man.

About the Author


NYT and USA Today Bestselling author B.J. Daniels was born in Texas but moved with her family to Montana at the age of five. Her first home was a cabin in the Gallatin Canyon and later a lake house on Hebgen Lake outside of West Yellowstone.

Most of her books are set in Montana, a place she loves. She lives now in a unique part of the state with her husband and three Springer Spaniels.

When she isn�t writing, she loves to play tennis, boat, camp, quilt and snowboard. There is nothing she enjoys more than curling up with a good book.



Giveaway!


Books � la Mode is giving away a print copy of Rancher's Dream�yay!

To enter, all you have to do is tell me in the comments below:
What is the last dream you remember?
Please make your comment MEANINGFUL. Comments solely consisting of stock responses or irrelevant fluff like "Thanks for the giveaway!" will not be considered for entry. B.J. and I really want to hear from you guys! :)

Last night, I had a suspenseful dream inspired by the nail-biting qualities of Westworld (highly recommend on HBO!). As with most of my dreams, it was so vivid in the moment but now I hardly remember any of it...

Don't forget the entry eligibility terms and conditions!
Sponsored wholly by the tour publicist and publisher�a huge thank you to TLC Book Tours and HQN Books!
Giveaway ends August 20th at 11.59 PM (your time).
Open to US and Canada readers only�sorry, everyone else! Please check my sidebar for the list of currently running giveaways that are open worldwide. There are plenty to choose from!
Void where prohibited.
Winners have 48 hours to claim their prize once they are chosen, or else their winnings will be forfeited.
Although I do randomly select winners, I am in no way responsible for prizes, nor for shipping and handling.
As a reminder, you do not have to follow my blog to enter, though it is always very much appreciated ?
Good luck!

0 coment�rios:

Today I'd like to welcome Meg Waite Clayton  to the blog to celebrate the exciting release of  Beautiful Exiles  from Lake Union , an  A...

Interview with Meg Waite Clayton, Author of Beautiful Exiles + Giveaway (cont. US only)

Today I'd like to welcome Meg Waite Clayton to the blog to celebrate the exciting release of Beautiful Exiles from Lake Union, an Amazon imprint!

Welcome to Books � la Mode, Meg! Let's get this interview started.

Will you please share a brief introduction with us?

I�ve written for the Los Angeles Times, The New York Times, The Washington Post, San Francisco Chronicle, Runner�s World and public radio, often on the subject of the particular challenges women face.

I was born in Washington D.C., and have since lived in Kansas City, the Chicago area (norther suburbs), Los Angeles, Ann Arbor, Nashville, Baltimore, Nashville, and Palo Alto. I love to travel, so my books tend to be set in places I find fascinating: France (The Race for Paris), the English Lakes (The Wednesday Daughters), Ann Arbor and the Chesapeake (The Four Ms. Bradwells), Silicon Valley (The Wednesday Sisters), and the horse country of Maryland (The Language of Light).

It's amazing to get to feature you today! Readers, here's a bit about the book, which will hits shelves today:

From New York Times bestselling author Meg Waite Clayton comes a riveting novel based on one of the most volatile and intoxicating real-life love affairs of the twentieth century.

Key West, 1936. Headstrong, accomplished journalist Martha Gellhorn is confident with words but less so with men when she meets disheveled literary titan Ernest Hemingway in a dive bar. Their friendship�forged over writing, talk, and family dinners�flourishes into something undeniable in Madrid while they�re covering the Spanish Civil War.

Martha reveres him. The very married Hemingway is taken with Martha�her beauty, her ambition, and her fearless spirit. And as Hemingway tells her, the most powerful love stories are always set against the fury of war. The risks are so much greater. They�re made for each other.

With their romance unfolding as they travel the globe, Martha establishes herself as one of the world�s foremost war correspondents, and Hemingway begins the novel that will win him the Nobel Prize for Literature. Beautiful Exiles is a stirring story of lovers and rivals, of the breathless attraction to power and fame, and of one woman�ahead of her time�claiming her own identity from the wreckage of love.

While this novel is a work of fiction, you wrote about one of the household names in world literature, Ernest Hemingway, and narrated through the eyes of his third wife Martha Gellhorn, a lifelong journalist, war correspondent, and author. What was your motivation and inspiration for writing about Martha, and what do you want readers to take away from her story?

Like every other poor high school English student in this country, I slogged through The Old Man and the Sea long before I�d ever heard of The Trouble I�ve Seen or A Stricken Field. But I came to this story through Martha Gellhorn: I read about how she became one of the only journalists to go ashore in the early moments of the Normandy invasion, and I was hooked.

The Reader�s Digest condensed version of that story would go something like this: Denied an official opportunity to go across with the D-Day landing ships because she was female, Marty hid in the loo of the first hospital ship to cross the channel and went ashore with a stretcher crew to cover the landing in a brilliant article for Collier�s. As reward for her bravery, she was taken into custody, stripped of her press credential, and confined to a nurses� training camp. But Marty, being Marty, hopped the fence and hitched a ride on a plane headed to Italy, where she continued do some of the best reporting to come out of the war even without her credential or any official support. Really, how can you not want to know more about how Marty became Marty?

So began an obsession for me. When I heard Caroline Moorehead�s Martha Gellhorn: A Life, was to be published in October of 2003, I dug around to find a prepublication copy, which has long been underlined and dog-eared and loved to bits. I read her books, her articles, her letters. I visited places she�d been and tried to imagine being her, tried to learn everything I could. I discovered, among other things, that that first version of the D-Day story was a bit of an exaggeration: she didn�t hop that fence�she rolled under it. I also discovered that she had been the lead correspondent for Collier�suntil a man snagged the position from her�and that man was her husband, Ernest Hemingway.

For me, a novel is a long part of my life, all-consuming often for years. I can�t write a book �to order,� and don�t want to. As Marty writes in an August 1940 letter to Charles Scribner, in explanation for why she is turning down a contract to write a book for Scribner�s, �I could not do a book (a book, Charlie, think of the high pile of bare white paper that you have in front of you before there is even the beginning of a book), unless I believed awfully hard in it. Unless I wanted to do it so much that I could sweat through the dissatisfaction and weariness and failure and all the rest you have to sweat through.�

I�ve been mopping the sweat from this one for a long time. My hope for what began as one of those high piles of white paper is that it will introduce others to the truly extraordinary Martha Gellhorn.


Gellhorn came into her professional own during a time when women journalists weren�t given the support or respect they deserved. That great story about her literally skirting a fence to get out of the nurses� compound where military officials had her staying since she was a female, not male, war reporter. How did Gellhorn�s early work, her grit and determination, impact the future of journalism and reporting for women in the field?

Marty was not the first woman to cover war; as early as 1848, Margaret Fuller was covering an uprising in Italy for the New York Tribune, and when Martha set off for France in 1930, determined to become a foreign correspondent, Sigrid Schultz was in her fifth year as the Chicago Tribune�s bureau chief in Berlin, where Dorothy Thompson would interview Hitler the following year.

But there is a bit of a pivot in the progress of women journalists that really comes in the days between D- Day in June of 1944 and the liberation of Paris later that summer. Before the liberation of Paris, women journalists were officially forbidden to cover the front. But starting with that moment Martha stows away in that hospital ship to cross the channel, women journalists begin to see that to cover the front they are going to have to go AWOL from support positions to get to the actual war, climb fences meant to contain them, and risk their lives. Despite being confronted with red tape and derision, denied accommodations provided to their male colleagues at press camps, pursued by military police, and even arrested and stripped of credentials, women like Martha�and others including Lee Carson, Helen Kirkpatrick, Iris Carpenter, Ruth Cowan, and Lee Miller�proved that women could report the war, and do a damned good job of it. They did such a good job that, beginning that fall, the powers that be began to accredit women journalists to the front�opening up the future for generations of women journalists.


On your website, you say: �If I had to pick a single word to describe what makes me a writer, it would be discipline.� You portray Hemingway to have a similar sense of discipline, as he sits down for hours or even days at a time to get his ideas punched into his typewriter. Gellhorn, on the other hand, seems less regimented, writing much more freely in the thick of war-torn Spain or France than she does at home in Cuba. How do you think their approaches to writing speaks to differences in their character? Do you feel you identify with one of them more than the other, based on the method in which you write?

There is a very funny passage in a February 24, 1940 letter from Ernest to his publisher, Charles Scribner, in which Hemingway explains to Charlie�who, having gotten wind of the fact that Hemingway counts his words every day, worries his best writer is going batty. Ernest writes, �Don�t worry about the words. I�ve been doing that since 1921. I always count them when I knock off and am drinking the first whiskey and soda. Guess I got in the habit writing dispatches.� And in another, a September 3, 1930 letter to his editor, Max Perkins, he writes, �I have to stick to one thing when I�m writing a book and keep that in my head and nothing else.�

I completely identify with him on this, although perhaps with a little less whiskey in the mix. Writing- habit-wise, I�m far more Hemingwayesque, right down to the word counting. When I am writing first draft, my rule is 2,000 words or 2:00. If I�ve written 2,000 words by 9 a.m., I can turn on the tellie and pull out the bon-bons. But actually, if I have 2,000 words by 9 a.m., Mac has to come haul me out of my chair for dinner, because that is a great writing day.

It did make me feel a little saner to read that Hemingway counted words, and weighed himself each morning, as I also do, although I would never display my weight on a wall. But hmmm� Perhaps it should leave me more worried about my sanity?

The novel�s title, Beautiful Exiles, can be interpreted in a lot of different ways. What sentiment were you hoping to capture in this title?

I have to say choosing a title for a book, at least for me, is more feel than logic, so take what follows here with that in mind. The working title for this book was Mookie & Bug�two of the nicknames Marty and Ernest called each other�but my agent felt that title suggested a young adult novel, which this is decidedly not. But retitling a finished manuscript is a bit like renaming a fully-grown child just as she is submitting her college applications. I love the new title, but one part of me will always think of this novel as Mookie & Bug.

Trying to parse it logically, I suppose Marty was a bit of an exile on her own, exiled by the expectations that came with being from a prominent St. Louis family, and by her complicated relationship with her father. But the word also felt right because Marty and Ernest together are essentially exiled by his fame. When they are first falling in love, he is already famous enough that in the U.S. they would be hounded by photographers. How can you possibly sort out a relationship in that glare? They go to Cuba for the privacy it affords them to sort out whether they even really want a relationship.

The thing about Ernest and Marty�s exile is that in many ways, for many years, it worked for them. They did have the privacy to sort out how they felt about each other outside the glare of the press, for the most part. And the place they created together�the Finca Vig�a�is really beautiful. And then they were a beautiful couple, and beautiful writers. In the end and despite everything, I don�t think either of them ever loved anyone more. Their relationship was stormy, but I think their best work�for both of them�came out of their years together. So �beautiful��I liked the double meaning: they are beautiful exiles, and their exile together allowed them to write beautifully, the kind of writing that they both wanted more than anything else.


A lovely and fitting title indeed! Where can you be found on the web?


It was a pleasure to be able to get to know you better today, Meg! Thank you again for dropping by, and best of luck with future endeavors!

Giveaway!

Books � la Mode is giving away one print copy of Beautiful Exiles�woohoo! To enter, all you have to do is tell me:
Do you travel a lot? How has travel affected your life?
Please make your comment MEANINGFUL. Comments solely consisting of stock responses or irrelevant fluff like "Thanks for the giveaway!" will not be considered for entry. Meg and I really want to hear your thoughts! :)

I only really travel for leisure, and I wish I had time to do more of it. I envy those who get to travel for business, although I'm sure it does get exhausting! Traveling has definitely made me a cooler person, giving me exposure to new cultures and perspectives, as well as having entertaining stories to tell.

Don't forget the entry eligibility terms and conditions!
Sponsored wholly by the tour publicist�a huge thank you to the lovely folks over at Little Bird Publicity!
Giveaway ends August 15th at 11.59 PM (your time).
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Void where prohibited.
Winners have 48 hours to claim their prize once they are chosen, or else their winnings will be forfeited.
Although I do randomly select winners, I am in no way responsible for prizes, nor for shipping and handling.
As a reminder, you do not have to follow my blog to enter, though it is always very much appreciated ?
Good luck!

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