The Stages of Waiting For A New Book

This is too funny to pass out.  I found this post in Epic Reads  . And I thought I share it with you, I guess all of us has experience these stages in waiting for a new book :)

Enjoy!

What stage of this emotional process are you in?

You just found out about an upcoming book with a premise that actually interests you.

You’re not making any new commitments (you’ve been burned before) but the book is officially on your radar.

A few weeks go by and the publisher reveals the cover and IT. IS. AWESOME.
You’re sold.

Research on the book continues but you find out that the book doesn’t come out for A YEAR AND A HALF and that annoys you to no end.

WHATEVER. You rationalize that the wait will be worth it and you have plenty of books to get through in your TBR pile in the meantime.

And so the long wait begins. At first, it’s NBD. Bring on the wait. You got this.

A few months go by. Your hard, emotional shell is beginning to crack a little.

Nine months go by from when you first heard about it and one day someone posts a photo of an ARC their Instagram. YOU DIDN’T EVEN KNOW THERE WERE ARCS LET ALONE THE FACT THAT SOME PEOPLE GOT THEM ALREADY.

The publisher makes things worse by posting a 40 page sneak peek online. This is supposed to make you happy but really it just makes you even angrier that you don’t have the whole book to read right this second.

(You = Schmidt. The Publisher = the dude in the fish hat.)

You spend the rest of the time until publication day in a moody, impatient, stressed out state.

But before you know it, publication day is here and you realize that the wait wasn’t so bad and was totally worth it.

Oh the sweet, sweet satisfaction.

(Until you do it all over again.)

This post has been brought to you by the following books (and all of these):

   


 Original post On:EpicReads
The Stages of Waiting For A New Book

Bookshelf Confessions is looking for BOOK REVIEWERS!

Hi everyone, as you noticed I'm not posting reviews as often as I do last year. My studies have made it difficult to read books and then review for our quizzes and upcoming mock board exams this October. That's why I'm asking you guys for help, anyone who is interested in becoming a Bookshelf Confessions Reviewer is very much appreciated.

I'm looking for persons who are okay with their reviews to be posted on this site. They may post their reviews on other commercial sites too. Preferably, persons who do not have an established book review blog, amazon and goodreads is okay. Persons who just want to read and review books but doesn't want the hassle of setting up a blog.

Here's the deets:
A. What I'll require from you is an honest review of the book:
Reviews must include but are not limited to:
1) your honest opinion
2) synopsis

B. E-book review copies will be available and some print books too ( can be International). I'll be sending the list once I approve of your applications.

C. Genre include YA, adult, fantasy, sci-fi, paranormal, romance, and other fiction types. I don't review nonfiction (sorry). Can either be indie or published.

If you are interested, fill the form below: if it doesn't load, click the form here

Celebrate Bliss's 1st Anniversary and win lots of books this whole month of August!

It’s been an amazing year as Bliss released over 20 titles and have plenty in store for everyone going forward. Bliss couldn’t have gotten to where it is without all of the wonderful readers out there.

To say thank you and welcome to new readers August will be filled with special events. Here is the lowdown for the #BlissBall celebration:

• #BlissBall Twitter Party: Wednesday, August 7, 9-10pm EST: Join 10 Bliss authors for a Twitter party and be ready to win some #BlissBall bling!
• Pin It to Win It Pinterest giveaway: Sunday, August 11: Showcase which Bliss books you can’t wait to read.  Follow BlissEntangled and stop by to find out how to win a $25 Amazon gift card on Sunday.
• Blogger Love: August 19-30: Of course we think Bliss books are so sweet and sassy that readers can't help but love 'em but don’t just take our word for it. Fans will be posting why they love Bliss books and readers will have a chance to win a "Sweet" grand prize package. Follow Bliss on Facebook for each stop.
• Bliss Ball Facebook Parties: Join Bliss for not one but two Facebook parties with the lovely Bliss authors.  August 27 and August 29 from 8-10pm EST we will be chatting with Bliss authors, readers and there will be more great prizes to win!

Check out our full list of Bliss books and come ready to party and win!

Bookshelf Confessions on top 1% of reviewers on Goodreads!

Thought, I'd share... Goodreads had emailed me of this great news.. Being on the top 1% of reviewers in Goodreads wouldn't have been possible without YOU, readers of Bookshelf Confessions thank you for liking my book reviews and for all your comments. Thanks :D

On behalf of the Goodreads team, I want to say thank you. You’re in the top 1% of reviewers on Goodreads! Your many thoughtful book reviews help make us a vibrant place for book lovers. And our community has been growing! We now number more than 20 million members on Goodreads. Every day readers from all over the world are connecting over a love of books. And our 25 million reviews – including yours – are a big part of that conversation. Thank you for your support of Goodreads, and keep reading! I’m looking forward to seeing what you think of your next book! --Otis Share the news with your friends that you're in the top 1% of Goodreads reviewers!

©2013 Goodreads | 188 Spear St, Suite 250, San Francisco, CA 94105

I'm on Bloglovin

So, I recently added my blog on Bloglovin,

what this site is all about? well,

Bloglovin is where you can find all your favorite blogs in one place. Add the blogs you want to follow and you'll get all of their new posts in a feed on bloglovin'! And yes, you can add any blog.

So, if you're there already, or would like to join, maybe you'd like to follow my blog there as well ::D..
Follows are very much appreciated :D

Thank you


Follow my blog with Bloglovin

Coupon in exchange for sharing Winter Queen's release. Pretty good deal, right? :) by Amber Argyle

It's Winter Queen's release day! The journey for this book began years ago--it was actually the fifth book I ever wrote, right after Witch Song.

I've included the first chapter below as well as a coupon as a way of saying thank you for your continued support and friendship.

In exchange, I ask that you share something about Winter Queen on social media (blog, facebook, twitter--the more the better!) on it's book birthday.

Subscribe here for 20% off.

I could also use some more reviews, especially on Amazon (I'd like to see at least 20, and one-liners totally count!). 

The reviews are coming in, and they're overwhelmingly positive!

Amber Argyle

1. Clan Mistress Ilyenna’s horse danced nervously beneath her, the animal’s hooves clicking against the snow-covered stones that coated the land like dragon eggs. Reaching down, she patted her mare’s golden neck. “Easy, Myst. What’s the matter, girl?” “There.” Her father pointed at the base of a forested hillock not fifty paces beyond the road. Ilyenna saw the shadowed form of a large animal. Bratton soundlessly pulled an arrow from his quiver and nocked it. “Bear?” He directed the question at their father. The word stirred currents of tension in Ilyenna’s body. The cold stung her cheeks and formed a vapor no matter how shallowly she breathed. As she glanced up and down the road, her hand gripped the knife belted around her bulky wool coat. “I think it’s a horse,” Bratton finally said. Ilyenna eased her mare forward for a better look. It was a horse—a bay. “Then where is his rider—” The words died in her throat when she spotted a motionless gray lump at the horse’s feet. Without thought, she rammed her heels into her mare’s ribs. “Stop!” her father cried at the same time Bratton called, “Ilyenna!” But the healer in her couldn’t be denied. In three of the horse’s strides, she was in the forest. She pressed herself flush against Myst’s muscular neck. Still, larch trees managed to slap her, leaving the sharp scent of their needles in her hair and clothes. Clumps of snow shook loose from their sagging boughs, falling across her horse’s mane and into her face. Yet Ilyenna barely registered the icy shock. The other horse shied away. Myst tossed her head and balked, but Ilyenna didn’t have time to hesitate. She jumped from the saddle, and her heavy boots sank into drifts up to her thighs. Grateful for her riding leggings, she struggled toward the man, whose face was blue with cold. Her heavy riding skirt spread around her as she knelt beside him. Strangely, even in this frigid weather, he wore no coat. Beneath him, the white snow was stained crimson. An arrow shaft stuck out of his left side, and his mouth was coated with bloody foam. A quick assessment revealed the arrow head had passed completely through his chest, but the shaft was still lodged inside him. Ilyenna couldn’t imagine riding in that kind of pain. Each of the horse’s strides would’ve reopened the wound and spilled more blood. Fear rose in Ilyenna’s gut, and she wondered what had driven this man to ride himself so close to death. The lump rose higher when she recognized the knots in the stranger’s clan belt. “An Argon,” she announced as her brother and her father reined in behind her. Instantly, her mind went to the Argon clan, and her brother’s best friend, Rone. At the mere thought of the boy from her childhood, a hundred memories came unbidden. Memories she wished to banish forever. But over the last six years, that had proven impossible. She bit the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to concentrate as she pulled her sheepskin-lined mittens from her hands and probed the man for additional wounds. “You can’t just run off,” her brother growled as he dropped beside her. “What if his attacker was still here?” Ilyenna kept her expression neutral. Even though she was seventeen, her brother would never see her as anything but a child—one incapable of caring for herself, let alone their clan. Thankfully, the calm sureness that always accompanied her healing steeled her voice. “He’s not breathing well. Get him on your knees.” Despite his obvious annoyance, Bratton quickly obeyed. “Why would an Argon appear in Shyle lands with an arrow in his side?” she murmured as she worked to stop the bleeding. Bratton’s grip tightened around his axe hilt as his gaze probed the forest. “Only Raiders would attack the clans.” Ilyenna suppressed a shudder at the mention of the Raiders, men who survived by pillaging and enslaving those they conquered. “Raiders don’t come this far inland,” her father said. He handed his coat to Ilyenna, who draped it over the man. Her father pointed to the arrow that rose and fell with each of the Argon’s labored breaths. “Besides, I saw a Raider’s arrow as a boy. This isn’t one.” “Then whose arrow is it?” Bratton asked. Ilyenna eyed her brother carefully. There was something odd about his expression, as if he suspected more than he was saying. Her father frowned. “It looks clan made.” Neither Ilyenna nor Bratton had a response for that. It was an impossible thought. The Clans didn’t fight among themselves; they banded together to fight against outsiders. Pressing her ear to the injured man’s chest, she listened to a sound like the gurgling of a gentle stream. She sat back on her heels. “His lungs have filled with blood. He’s drowning.” Even as she said it, the urge to fight against death pulled at her, though she knew all too well how useless fighting it was. All things served the Balance. Life and death were no different. Though Ilyenna’s calling was to battle for life, without death, there would be no birth. Her father bent down and gently shook the man’s shoulder. He moaned softly before settling back to his labored breathing. The death rattle. Her father looked at her questioningly. “Should we take him to the clan house?” She shook her head. “You know he won’t make it.” With grim determination, her father leaned over the man and shook harder. Had something happened to the Argons? To Rone? Ilyenna had to know. She applied pressure where the wounded man’s thumb met his palm. His lids fluttered, revealing the whites of his eyes. She pinched harder. His eyes opened wide. “Who did this to you?” Ilyenna’s father asked. The Argon’s gaze focused on his face. It was clear he didn’t understand. Ilyenna brought her face so close she could smell the blood on his breath. She gently brushed his hair from his forehead. “You’re in Shyle lands.” The man snatched her hand, his icy grip surprisingly strong. “I didn’t fail?” Ilyenna wasn’t sure what he meant, but she shook her head anyway. “No. You didn’t fail.” He guided her hand to his pocket. She reached inside and pulled out a piece of rolled vellum. Her hands shaking, she slid off the leather band and unrolled it. The dying man echoed the words she read, “The Tyrans attacked us during the night . . . Clan Chief Seneth sent me to call for aid.” The man seemed to be fighting to keep his eyes from rolling back. “So much dying . . .” The words strangled from his lungs with his last breath. Death had claimed another. Somewhere, a child filled its lungs for its first squall. Ilyenna handed the vellum to her father, then closed the fallen man’s eyes and rested his hand on his axe hilt. “So passes a warrior,” she said. “So passes an Argon,” her brother and father replied in unison. After gently laying the man’s head back on the snow, Bratton leaned toward her father and read the note with him. A plea for aid that was written in Seneth’s own hand. It affirmed the truthfulness of the dead man’s words. The Tyrans had attacked the Argon clan. Bratton shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense.” Ilyenna couldn’t understand either. Undon, the Tyran clan chief, might be renowned among the clans as a dangerous man with a short temper, but this was far beyond killing a man in a drunken brawl. This treachery made him and his Tyrans even worse than Raiders. She studied her father and brother, like twin images in a mirror. The only real difference was their age. Both men had the clan’s typical blond hair and blue eyes. They even had the same braying laugh. Ilyenna had inherited all of her mother’s foreignness, right down to her dark brown eyes and black hair. Tears pricked the back of her throat. Her mother—the other half of her mirror—was dead, and it was her fault. Her father gently retrieved his coat, then hauled himself into his saddle. Bratton wasn’t far behind. “Hurry, Ilyenna. We’re near the border. It’s not safe.” She heard the warning in her father’s words. If the Argons had been attacked, the Shyle could be next. Even now, the killers could be close. But her eyes stayed fastened to the dead man. One death, one moment, and the peace of decades had been shattered. “We should take his body.” “We’ll come back if we can,” her father said sternly. She squeezed her eyes shut. Her father was right. But the man had died trying to find help. He deserved better than for the wolves to pick him apart. “I’m sorry,” she mouthed, hoping his ghost would hear and understand, that he wouldn’t come for revenge against her family for this insult. “Ilyenna!” Bratton snarled. She turned and shoved her foot into the stirrup, then pulled herself into the saddle. Myst pranced impatiently. Ilyenna leaned low over the mare’s neck to shield herself from the wind that whipped away warmth and breath. This deep into winter, the only passable path to the village was an ancient, snow-packed road that cut through the heart of the Shyle. They galloped along it, only pausing to maneuver through herds of sheep—their dense wool proof of the high mountain’s harsh winters—or to send other men off to warn people living deeper in the canyons and along the mountain bases. Why had the Tyrans attacked the Argons? Ilyenna thought again. What if Rone was already dead? She’d hardly seen more than a passing glance of him in years, but for some reason she feared his death the most. Other Argon faces flashed in her mind—people she’d met over years of feast days and hunts. A growing sense of fear settled over her like a cold, wet blanket. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw their small village, nearly fifty homes built beside the river. Behind Shyleholm, the rolling valley floor gave way to massive mountains. Village lore said the mountains were actually the last of the rock trolls—creatures who had died gripping their legs, their snow-mantled heads and shoulders rising above the tree line. The village houses were made of river stones made shiny from generations of hands. Chimneys on the split-shingle roofs exhaled wisps of smoke, and the acrid scent mingled with the smells of cattle and sheep. The Shyle survive, Ilyenna thought. Whether it be Raiders or border disputes or disease, they survived and would continue to survive long after death had claimed her. The sheepdogs heard the riders first. The dogs ran out of barns and yards, yapping shrilly. Just before the clan house, Ilyenna’s father grabbed the warning bell’s rope and gave it a mighty pull. Men hefted their axes, grabbed their shields, and started running. Women, their blond hair pulled back into tight braids, left their carding and spinning, picked up a child and their skirts, and hurried after the men. With the clang of the bell still ringing in Ilyenna’s ears, her father cried, “On our border we found an Argon near death. He carried a message signed by Clan Chief Seneth’s own hand. The Tyrans attacked them in the night.” The women gasped and the men exchanged hard looks. Ilyenna felt the same apprehension. While individual clans ruled themselves, they followed the verdict of the clan chiefs that made up the Council when conflicts arose between clans. This act by the Tyrans could spark a war. “What is the Shyle’s answer?” her father went on. “Will we allow Clan Chief Undon and his clanmen to kill our closest neighbors and friends—clanmen who’ve provided us succor in hard winters? Clanmen who saved us from the Raider invasion of my boyhood?” Pride swelled in Ilyenna at the sight of her father, still so strong and capable, though well into his middling years. The clan loved him dearly, for he had loved them first, never asking for more than he was willing to give. “No,” came the men’s response. He nodded grimly to her brother. Bratton nodded back. Tradition dictated they both turn to her. “Clan mistress?” Ilyenna felt nearly seven hundred pairs of eyes turn to her. Wishing her great-aunt Enrid hadn’t recently passed the full duties of the clan mistress to her, Ilyenna folded her arms across her middle to keep them from shaking. Her fingertips traced the embroidered knots on her leather clan belt. One knot for herself, one for every member of her family, and one for her clan. Each built upon the one before in a long, sinuous line, with no beginning and no end. Life perfectly balanced. “We will hold the lands until your return.” The saying was more a custom than a reality. The women hadn’t needed to fight for their lands since Ilyenna’s grandmother’s time, when all the men were away at war and a party of Raiders had invaded their valley. But the words still rang true. Each woman carried a knife and knew how to use it. If it came to it, they would fight. And Ilyenna would lead them. Her father hefted his axe, pointing it skyward. “Then the Shyle rides!” With a shout, the men ran to prepare for battle, leaving Ilyenna to give the orders to those who remained, as a proper clan mistress should. She nervously faced the women, children, and crippled men. Every face was tight with fear. Winter was a difficult time for fighting. If the men survived the battle, they still faced hunger and exposure. “Sound it, even if you don’t feel it.” That’s what Ilyenna’s mother had always said. Ilyenna threw her shoulders back. “Clanwomen! Food must be packed, and flint and tinder, and blankets and spare clothing. Boys, saddle the men’s horses. Any extra, load with packsaddles. Girls, go into the woods and find roots, moss, and bark for poultices. Prepare bandages and slings. Dig in the mud around the river to see if you can find some leeches. And keep your knives with you.” She added extra emphasis on the last. “Off with you. Be quick.” The women snatched the youngest children and raced for their homes, while their daughters took to the forests. The boys headed for the barns, their eyes gleaming with excitement. Ilyenna let out a breath of relief and almost managed a smile. Her mother had been right. Sound like a clan mistress, and the clan will treat you like one. Otrok scrambled through the crowd toward her. He was her tiam, in principle little better than a slave, but she treated him like a brother. Dancing from one foot to the next, he said, “Mistress, you want to send the horses?” She leaned down and spoke low, “Bring me two with packsaddles. Give three more to anyone who really needs a horse.” She glanced at Larina Bend, whose family always demanded more than they ever needed, and back at Otrok. He was a smart boy. He’d know what she meant. With a grave nod, he raced toward their barn. Ilyenna turned toward the clan house. It was easily four times the size of any other home in the village. The clan house was a place for feasting and upholding the law, but it was also Ilyenna’s home. She went past the hall’s entrance to the smaller kitchen door. Great-aunt Enrid was hauling supplies from the cellar to the rough wooden table that was older than Ilyenna’s great-grandfather. “The Argon you found, was he someone we knew?” Enrid asked, her expression tight with worry. She was trying to knot a cloth over handfuls of dried meat, but her gnarled fingers weren’t cooperating. Ilyenna gently took the bundle and tied the cloth. “I think I recognized him, but I couldn’t remember his name.” Enrid moved to wrapping loaves of bread in cheesecloth. When they had almost finished, Otrok poked his head through the kitchen door. “Larina give you any trouble?” Ilyenna asked. He came inside. “Some, but I told her you’d already promised the horses to the Hiders and my father.” That would leave her twelve horses in case she had to evacuate. She ruffled his shoulder-length hair. “Good boy.” Otrok moved to help them scoop up armfuls of supplies, haul them outside, and stuff them in the pack saddles. But his face remained troubled. “Ilyenna, I don’t understand,” he finally said. “You told me the clans are like a family, each clan brother to the next. Why would one clan attack another?” How could she explain war to one so young? She shot a pleading look at Enrid. But months ago, her great-aunt had claimed she was too old for clan-mistress duties. She simply nodded toward the boy with her customary “You’re the clan mistress now—you handle it” glance. Holding back a sigh, Ilyenna heaved some rolled blankets onto the back of a saddle and used the straps to tie them on. “Otrok, sometimes people do bad things.” His brow furrowed. He was no more than ten, but his soul often seemed much older. “But why would the Tyrans attack their brothers?” This time, Ilyenna let her sigh escape. She bent next to Otrok and put her hands on his shoulders. “You remember what we talked about . . . with your father.” Otrok’s expression turned wary. She continued carefully, “Sometimes people hurt each other—even people who should be family—and there’s never a good reason for it.” Otrok pursed his lips and nodded. He would understand that all too well. It had taken Ilyenna weeks to nurse him back to health after the last beating his father had given him. She looked up to see Otrok’s older brother run toward her through snow dusted with hearth-fire ash. He wasn’t old enough to trim a beard—not yet old enough to fight, and yet too young to leave behind. She looked past him, searching for the boys’ father. As usual, Dobber was drunk. She’d had him at the beating pole not two weeks past for altering some sheep’s earmarks to look like they were his. Perhaps he’d manage to kill her horse, giving her an excuse to take his other son as her tiam as well. Without a word, she handed Otrok’s older brother the horses’ lead ropes. “Be careful.” He grinned in response and led the horses to a group of boys clustered beside the packhorses. She bit the inside of her cheek. The men might use the boys in the fight, but only if no other choice remained. Ilyenna hoped it never came to that. She felt a strong hand on her shoulder. “Remember, Ilyenna, the Shyle are strong as stone—” “And supple as a sapling,” she finished for her father. Had it really only been a few hours since they’d left the dead Argon? Ilyenna hated the tears that threatened to reveal just how frightened she was. Clan mistresses weren’t supposed to be frightened. “Let me go with you. You’ll need a healer.” He withdrew his hand. “You’re our clan mistress, as was your mother once. Your place is here.” He stepped closer and whispered, “And clan mistresses don’t ask for things they shouldn’t.” It was a soft rebuke, but one that stung anyway. Glad she could blame her reddened face on the cold, she tried to memorize his features, the smell of him—pipe smoke, horses, and leather—and the rough texture of his hands. He mounted Konj. “Send any straggling warriors that come from the outlying homes after us.” Most of the Shyle moved into town for the winter. Only the poor risked the isolation of a harsh winter alone. His eyes searching, Bratton absently nodded his goodbye and took off. Ilyenna could only guess he was going to say goodbye to Lanna. If their budding romance continued, Ilyenna suspected they’d be married by summer. Her father sent the scouts out and motioned for the bulk of the men to follow him. The boys brought up the rear, bringing the packhorses and acting as errand boys and healers. Nearly four hundred of them and not one looked back. In utter silence, Ilyenna and the women watched the Balance leave the village with the men. Men and women were on opposing sides of the Balance. When they came together, they connected both ends of the Balance in a perfect circle. The Link. Now, every male out of boyhood and beneath old age had left. The Balance would be off. Bad things happened when the Balance was off. Ilyenna shook her head. She needed to keep the clan busy, keep their fears buried under a heavy load of work and exhaustion. “You’ve poultices to make, food to prepare, carding and spinning to do.” None of the women seemed to hear her as they stared after their men. “Move to it!” she shouted. That brought a satisfying round of jumps and purposeful strides. As Otrok passed her, Ilyenna caught his arm. “Round up two other boys. Use some of the horses we have left. Take turns watching the road at the mouth of the canyon. If you even think you see a Tyran, ride here and don’t stop for anything.” She hated to ask sentinel duty of one so young that even the men had left him behind. But Otrok’s small size would give him many advantages. If he had to run for it, his horse wouldn’t tire so quickly, and even the clumsiest Shyle boy was quieter than a deer and left fewer tracks. Besides, he was the closest thing to a warrior she had left. Otrok’s big eyes opened wider. He wet his lips with the tip of his tongue and squeaked, “Yes, Clan Mistress.” It was a risk she had to take, for until the men returned, the safety of the Shyle rested in her hands. Copyright © Amber Argyle Starling Publishing, All rights reserved.

Yay! Completed my Goodreads Reading CHallenge

I actually thought I won't be able to, good thing I have written reviews on FreshFiction which I did forget to include in Goodreads, plus there are more reviews to come from me this year. And after a year of good books..here's the result!

2012 Reading Challenge

Avry15 has completed her goal of reading 100 books in 2012!

hide

100 of 100 (100%)

view books

You can view all the books I read this year- here.

TO SUM IT UP:

303,132 Participants

17,849,935 Total Books Pledged

58 Average Books Per Challenge

6,761 Challenges Completed 

How about you? Did you took this challenge too? IF not, then you should sign up for 2013 Reading  Challenge!

Release Date: Forgiven Duke by Jamie Carie

The Forgiven Duke by Jamie Carie is now available on bookstores and online stores nationwide. The Forgiven Duke is the 2^nd installment on The Forgotten Castles Series.

Title:The Forgiven Duke
Author: Jamie Carie
Series: The Forgotten Castles Series
Publisher: B&H Publishing Group
Release Date: July 1, 2012




Book blurb:

Tethered by her impulsive promise to marry Lord John Lemon - the path of least resistance - Alexandria Featherstone sets off toward Iceland in search of her parents with a leaden heart. A glimpse of her guardian, the Duke of St. Easton - the path less traveled by - on Dublin’s shore still haunts her.

Will he come after her? Will he drag her back to London, quelling her mission to rescue her treasure-seeking parents, or might he decide to throw caution to the wind and choose Foy Pour Devoir: “Faith for Duty,” the St. Easton motto. The Featherstone motto Valens et Volens: “Willing and Able,” beats in her heart and thrums through her veins. She will find her parents and find their love, no matter the cost.

The powerful yet wing-clipped Duke of St. Easton has never known the challenge that has become his life since hearing his ward’s name. Alexandria Featherstone will be the life or the death of him. Only time and God’s plan will reveal just how much this man can endure for the prize of love.

Buy now:

Amazon |Barnes and Nobles|Book Depository

Goodreads: Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/12934289-the-forgiven-duke
Facebook: facebook.com/ForgottenCastles

About the author:

Jamie Carie writes novels about fierce, passionate women; their dreams; their fears; their triumphs. Her deepest desire is to see her readers find that same passion as they follow their destiny and discover deeper intimacy with Jesus.

She lives in Indianapolis with her husband and three sons.

Website | Blog|Facebook|Goodreads |Twitter

Change of title: Loving Emily by Anne Pfeffer

Hey guys,  as you have remembered I reviewed Anne Pfeffer's book Loving Emily awhile ago..

I even mentioned there that: I agree with another reviewer that the cover, title, and description are actually misleading. This book isn’t just about “Loving Emily”, it’s about coming to an age, loss, family, grief, guilt, and love. This book was so much more, and a truly inspiring and thought-provoking read.
 Read more here...here's the link!!!

So I received an email from the author ...Here's the result:

Any other night, Ryan Mills would have driven his best friend, Michael, to Emily's sweet sixteen party at the Breakers Club. Instead, determined to win over the birthday girl, he goes to the party early and alone, setting off a chain of events that ends with a car accident in which Michael dies.

Ryan blames himself for what happened to Michael. As far as he's concerned, he doesn't deserve to have love or ever be happy again. Then he learns Michael left a secret behind. Ryan feels compelled to take on his friend's unfinished business, and in the process, changes his life forever and becomes a man.

This book was published in October 2011 under the title Loving Emily. In May 2012, it was reissued with its content unchanged as Any Other Night. Many older ratings and reviews remain under the old title. Please put newer ratings and reviews here.

A NOTE ABOUT CONTENT: in this book, some characters use profanity, engage in nonexplicit sexual activity, or take illegal drugs.

Thank you! :)

The new title is Any Other Night. There's a new cover as well, but the content of the book is completely unchanged.
 

Anne did this in response to comments, and her own feeling, that the title Loving Emily and its cover didn't represent the book as well it should. I think and hope that the new cover and title do.

She's keeping alive her listings for Loving Emily on Goodreads and Amazon. All the old reviews and ratings will be there, along with a note to new readers that the title has been changed. There are also new listings for Any Other Night, which should slowly fill up with new reviews.

If you have read the book or would read, you can either:

1. Do nothing

2. Post a notice about the title and cover change (cover is below)

3. Add Any Other Night to your list of reviews and crossreference it back to Loving Emily

4. Keep Loving Emily in your list of reviews but cross reference it to Any Other Night

I think I love the new cover more.. I could finally clearly see Ryan..lol.. and "Any Other Night" majorly represents what the book is all about (I think).. read it too so we could have the same sentiments..:D

What do you think???

leave your thoughts in the comments please