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Merry Jones is the author of the Harper Jennings thrillers (SUMMER SESSION, WINTER BREAK, BEHIND THE WALLS, OUTSIDE EDEN), the Elle Harrison suspense novel THE TROUBLE WITH CHARLIE, the Zoe Hayes mysteries (THE NANNY MURDER, THE RIVER KILLINGS, DEADLY NEIGHBORS, THE BORROWED AND BLUE MURDERS). She has also written humor (including I LOVE HIM, BUT…) and non-fiction (including BIRTHMOTHERS: Women who relinquished babies for adoption tell their stories.) Jones’ work has been translated into eight languages and she has been published in GLAMOUR, LADIES HOME JOURNAL, CHILD, NEW WOMAN and PHILADELPHIA MAGAZINE. A teacher of writing at Temple University for twelve years, Jones has promoted her work on local and national radio and television. She is a member of The Authors Guild, Mystery Writers of America, International Thriller Writers, and The Philadelphia Liars Club. An avid sculler, Jones lives with her family outside Philadelphia.
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“Evil can dig in its roots anywhere and can take on many forms. Smart people know that. Kenahara.”
July. Israel. Iraq War vet and graduate archeologist Harper Jennings doesn’t believe in the Evil Eye. So when Hagit—the woman assigned to show her and her fourteen-month-old baby around Jerusalem—drags the pair of them into a market to buy charms to ward off evil, it isn’t the bad luck Harper fears but the market itself. Close, dark and crowded, the place worries Harper, and when an American mand seems to be in trouble, it is only the presence of the baby that stops Harper from wading in to help.
Later, to Harper’s dismay, she leans that the man she’d seen has been murdered. So when she’s invited to take part in a dig fifty miles away, while her geologist husband Hank takes part in the international symposium on water shortages that has brought them to Israel, she accepts. It will be safer away from the city and the market, she thinks. But Hagit, who’s coming along to look after the baby, disagrees. She is convinced that the Evil Eye has caught sight of Harper, and that it will follow her wherever she goes…
All around her, women prayed, their heads bowed and covered. Some stuffed pieces of paper into small cracks and crevices between rocks. Harper Jennings stood at the Western Wall of the Old City in Jerusalem, holding her hand flat against a stone block in the structure. It felt rough, sturdy, solid. Ancient. It had kept its place for over two thousand years, outlasting invaders, empires, cultures, gods. Harper pressed her fingers against it, less interested in the bustling women around her than in the inanimate wall, its past. Who had cut the stone, hauled it, placed it there? And what had it seen—worshipers, warriors, centuries of change? How many other hands had touched it? Millions? Her hand on the stone, Harper felt connected to all of them, a chain of hands and shadows of hands, linked by a rock through ages.
But Harper couldn’t linger; Hagit had the baby, and she didn’t know Hagit very well. Following the practice of the other women, she moved away from the wall without turning her back to it, a sign of respect. When she was sufficiently distant, she looked around and saw Hagit and Chloe, holding hands, waiting for her.
Harper went to them, swept Chloe up, got a joyous squeal.
“Did you put in a prayer?” Hagit nodded at the wall.
“A prayer?”
“In the cracks. Didn’t you see? People put prayers on paper and leave them in the wall.”
“I saw them,” Harper tussled Chloe’s curls. Kissed her warm round cheek.
“I’ll wait.” Hagit held out a pen and scrap of paper. “Go—Put it between the stones. Write down a prayer and leave it there. It’s supposed to be like a—a what do you call it? A mailbox? No–Like Fedex for God.”
Harper laughed.
“Even if you’re not religious, it wouldn’t hurt–”
Genre: Suspense
Published by: Severn House
Publication Date: July 1, 2013
Number of Pages: 216
ISBN: 9780727882646
One winner will receive a $25 Amazon Gift Card & a different winner will receive a copy of Merry’s book, OUTSIDE EDEN.
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DISCLAIMER
I received a copy of this book, at no charge to me, in exchange for my honest review. No items that I receive are ever sold…they are kept by me, or given to family and/or friends.
ADDENDUM
I do not have any affiliation with Amazon.com or Barnes & Noble. I am an IndieBound affiliate. I am providing link(s) solely for visitors that may be interested in purchasing this Book/EBook.
Over The Edge by Susan Lohrer
Genre: Fiction, Romance, Contemporary
Published by: 5 Prince Books
Publication Date: July 25, 2013
Digital: ISBN 13:978-1-939217-73-8 ISBN 10: 1-939217-73-3
Print: ISBN 13:978-1-939217-74-5 ISBN 10: 1-939217-74-1
Purchase Link: http://www.5princebooks.com/buy.html
SYNOPSIS:
“Sometimes love sends you sailing over the edge.”
Kat Cherish, high school principal and activist (a combination that hasn’t been great for her career) heads back to her hometown to mend her dignity only to discover her estranged kid sister is a mess… and their childhood home is for sale. Getting the house back just might be the only thing that can put Kat’s complicated family back together… if she can cope with her mixed feelings for her ex-boyfriend, who’s been hired to completely remodel her house for another potential buyer… and if she doesn’t lose her new job because of the outrageous antics she’s pulling to keep her sister out of trouble.
Kat shifted her wrists in the steel handcuffs. Rough, ancient bark pressed against her cheek, and the damp air intensified the resinous tang of the virgin forest. She’d been here since dawn—long enough to be on a first-name basis with Harvey, the Douglas fir. Which, if she let herself consider for more than a minute at a time, was kind of a weird development for a grown woman who had a respectable career. She’d consider it in more depth later. Right now she had enough on her mind.
A gust of coastal wind snatched her hat, and chilly rain plastered her hair to her scalp and trickled down her neck, making her teeth chatter. Nearby, a group of men wielded wrenches on a logging machine that refused to start. One of her students, the school board superintendent’s son, retrieved the hat and plopped it back on Kat’s head.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered, “they’re not going to get that machine going anytime soon.”
Alarm nibbled the back of her mind like a classroom gerbil gnawing a toilet paper tube.
“There’d better not be a reason you know that.”
He laughed. “I’m just saying.” Then, calling to his friends, he trotted off.
Kat wondered whether she’d still have her job at the end of the day.
The superintendent had made it clear she’d lose it in a blink if the kids did anything more than show up, and Kat had made them promise not to chain themselves to any trees. So far, all they’d done was text the protest’s breaking news to their friends… unless they’d messed with the equipment before she got here this morning. The thought made her stomach feel like she’d eaten fir needles for lunch. She stared up into the dense boughs radiating from Harvey’s trunk high above her.
“You don’t think the kids wrecked that machine, do you, Harv? I mean, they know my career is at stake here.” Harvey only sighed in the wind, branches waving toward the broken-down machine. Yeah, it had Kat a little worried, too.
She flexed her shoulders, stiff from the hours she’d spent shackled to the tree. She wasn’t against logging; she lived in a wood-frame house and used reams of paper. What school principal didn’t? And the logging industry in Mills Creek fed a lot of families.
In the last few hours, she’d had a chance to reevaluate her reasons for chaining herself to this tree. This was about so much more than the environment. It was about standing up for someone who couldn’t stand up for herself. Or in Harvey’s case, himself. It was about choices that had been taken away from her. It was about the fact that sometimes, no matter how wrong you were, you couldn’t undo what you’d done.
Her goal wasn’t to stop the logging, this community’s lifeblood. It was to protect something beautiful and precious. If she could win this one small battle, do this one small good deed, save just this one tree, maybe it would somehow make amends in her heart for what she’d let happen to her family.
A Jeep rattled up the steep gravel road and pulled off on the landing, followed a few seconds later by a police car. Kat’s stomach clenched.
A man exited the passenger door of the Jeep. His footsteps scuffed on the dirt road. Craning her neck, she peered through slanting late-afternoon shadows, making out only his easy gait and the set of his broad shoulders. Had they brought in a negotiator? He leaned into the police car for a minute, then stood, head down, hands on his hips, like a man bearing a heavy burden.
She almost felt sorry for the guy. She might look like a waterlogged rat at the moment, but he had no idea what he was up against. A tiny smirk crept over her mouth.
Now that this block of forest had been opened up to clear-cut logging, Harvey would have to watch while his family was torn away, one by one. She knew how he felt because the same thing had happened to her, until she had just one family member left. And she and Lacey weren’t even on speaking terms at the moment.
She dug her fingers into Harvey’s sturdy bark. “What am I doing talking to trees instead of making things right between Lacey and me?”
Soft footfalls on the carpet of needles behind her.
She straightened as much as she could. The chain connecting the two sets of handcuffs slipped and pulled her down with it until she had to slump against the tree trunk.
“Kat, what are you doing?” He sounded as exhausted as she felt. Sounded… disturbingly familiar.
That voice. Evan. Here? Memories grabbed her heart and sliced through it like the blade of the nearby feller buncher waiting to chop the young trees from their roots—if the loggers could get it running again. She strained her eyes to the left, looking without turning her head.
Evan was watching her, jaw clenched, rainwater slicking his blond hair.
She blinked the water from her eyes.
He was still there.
Not a gorgeous hallucination. A gorgeous reality. Her pulse whumped in her ears.
What was she doing? That was easy—she was running away from her failure to keep her family together. But what was Evan doing?
About Susan Lohrer:
Susan Lohrer grew up all over western Canada and lives in BC with her husband, their two children who are still at home, three dogs, and far too many aquariums. She believes life is always better with a healthy dose of humor.
How to contact Susan Lohrer:
Facebook | Twitter | Website
One of Deborah Plummer Bussey’s favorite childhood memories is visiting the local library where she first immersed herself into the world of books, but she never thought that one day she would become a writer. She is now releasing her third book in summer 2013.
Bussey lived in Cleveland, Ohio, until she was recruited to the University of Massachusetts Medical School in New England. She holds a Master of Education degree in community consultation and a doctorate in psychology. She is a psychologist and human resources professional with expertise in diversity management and organizational development.
After a lengthy career as an academic, she discovered a passion for writing. Bussey’s nonfiction self-help book, “Racing Across the Lines: Changing Race Relationships Through Friendships,” released by Pilgrim Press received the publishing company’s Mayflower Award for Best Publication in the church and state category. She is also the editor of the “Handbook of Diversity Management: Beyond Awareness to Competency Based Learning” from University
Press of America.
Having spent more than a dozen years of her life as a nun, Bussey is the creator of the Sister Nun mystery series. Half Dozen Publications released her debut novel, “They Still Call Me Sister,” in December 2011. Her newest book, “The Family That Stays Together,” is due out in June 2013.
Bussey lives in Westborough, Mass., where she is a regular blogger for The Huffington Post.
Connect with Dr. Bussey at these sites:
With such a successful career as an academic, why did you start writing the fictional Sister Nun mystery series?
A friend, an attorney who writes fiction in her spare time, encouraged me to write fiction. And so I did. I write fiction because it is cathartic to make stuff up. It reminds me of being on the stoop of my inner-city childhood home laughing with my sisters on made up stuff we thought was hilarious, or crying about made up stuff that manipulated our emotions, or scaring ourselves by our imagination of a world embedded in fear.
You were inspired by your own experiences as a psychologist and former nun to create the character of Kathy Carpenter. How is she like you, and how does she differ through fiction?
Kathy and I share the same fascination with human behavior and what makes people tick. Our values are the same—strong connection to family, steadfast faith, love of people and a deep appreciation for the value of diversity. We are both a little neurotic and are particularly fond of worrying. However, Kathy is riddled with a lot more self-doubt than I possess (only because I am older). Kathy is a lot more naïve than I hope that I am, and far less of a rebellious Catholic than I often can be.
Is her sister, Tina, based on someone in particular?
Tina was inspired by my own sister Lisa. They are very similar in personality and behavior. Lisa’s designer name is Simone Alisa and she is quite gregarious. When I was in the convent she would tell people that she had a sister who was a nun and they never believed her. She is the one who gave me the nickname Sister Nun, a shortened version of “my sister is a nun.”
Although your books are stimulating mysteries, you delve into deeper themes about managing the complexities of life especially in a diverse world. What are you ultimately trying to say through your writing? Is your fiction work a back up to your regular commentary on Huffington Post and other news outlets?
My belief is that if you are fully embracing life you are bound to encounter diversity and by extension its challenges and benefits. The Sister Nun stories reflect the challenges that people often encounter while trying to navigate our increasingly multicultural society—the tension between religion and sexual orientation, cross-racial friendships and interracial marriages, stereotypes about age- appropriate behavior, the susceptibility to materialism as a way to achieve happiness. The characters in these stories struggle with these challenges but also are able to grow and receive the benefits—deep friendships, creativity, inner peace, increased self-confidence and a real sense of community. There are similar themes in my Huffington Post blogs. I get to take a somewhat playful tone in my fiction work with the some of the same themes I blog about and provide commentary; especially the state of black America, communicating across differences and the critical need for the modernization of the Catholic Church. These are serious topics but I have fun embedding them the in dialogue.
What kind of role does your extensive knowledge of psychology play in your writing?
As a result of my training as a psychologist, the Sister Nun mysteries may have a bit more back- story than some mysteries. I want the readers to really understand who the characters are and what motivates them to do what they do. I try to make their behaviors consistent with their psychological make-up. I also bring in pop culture as context and to demonstrate the influence of our environment on our thinking and behavior.
You give readers a glimpse into life as a nun. How much of it is true?
The lifestyle depicted is pretty authentic although the specifics would vary among religious orders. “They Still Call Me Sister” provides more of a historical perspective and describes more of Kathy’s time as a nun in the late 1970s and 1980s. “The Family That Stays Together” provides a glimpse into contemporary religious life and the issues that some religious women experience. They are fully human, loving individuals and it would be naïve to think that they do not struggle with the same temptations similar to what other individuals experience.
What is the secret to writing a great mystery novel?
I believe great mysteries are about controlling the flow of information so that the reader is so engaged in the story that the subtle clues are not popping out while they are reading but are traceable after they get to the end and the mystery is solved. When readers get to be a detective along with the protagonist then they have experienced a great mystery.
Can we expect more detective work from Kathy and Tina in the future? Absolutely. They are sharpening their sleuthing skills and as Kathy expands her clinical practice there are a lot more murders to solve. Her close friend, Fr. Randy, will be featured more in the next story and we will get more of a glimpse in to modern priesthood.
When a television celebrity becomes suspect in the murder of her ex-fiancé, sister sleuths Kathy and Tina rally to support their family friend. Soon they end up in trouble. Will family ties be strong enough to protect a suspected murderer?
Genre: Mystery
Published by: Half Dozen Publications
Publication Date: July 2013
Number of Pages: 278
ISBN: 978-0-615-818658
Paperback: $9.99; eBook: $4.99
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Mysti Parker (pseudonym) is a full time wife, mother of three, and a writer. Her first novel, A Ranger’s Tale was published in January, 2011 by Melange Books, and the second in the fantasy romance series, Serenya’s Song, was published in April 2012. The highly anticipated third book, Hearts in Exile, has already received some great reviews. The Tallenmere series has been likened to Terry Goodkind’s ‘Sword of Truth’ series, but is probably closer to a spicy cross between Tolkien and Mercedes Lackey.
Mysti’s other writings have appeared in the anthologies Hearts of Tomorrow, Christmas Lites, and Christmas Lites II. Her flash fiction has appeared on the online magazine EveryDayFiction. She serves as a class mentor in Writers Village University’s six week free course, F2K.
Mysti reviews books for SQ Magazine, an online specfic publication, and is the proud owner of Unwritten, a blog voted #3 for eCollegeFinder’s Top Writing Blogs award. She resides in Buckner, KY with her husband and three children.
Connect with Mysti at these sites:
Living In Spite of Depression
Everyone’s got something holding them back. That’s the way of life, isn’t it? We have goals and the inevitable obstacles to overcome in order to reach those goals. But, why must it be so hard? What good comes out of the constant bumps in the road?
Last summer, I was officially diagnosed with clinical depression. I’d been in denial about it for so long, I was one of those people who thought “depression isn’t real—it’s just in your head”. When it got to the point that I was literally lying in bed for most of the day, unable to cope with even the slightest stress, I knew it had gone beyond being “just in my head”. I had to get help, and I am SO glad I finally did. You can see the article I wrote on my blog about it here: http://mystiparker.blogspot.com/2012/08/my-journey-to-inner-peace.html
Good days are outweighing the bad now, but there are still those times when life gets overwhelming, when I feel the pinch of all the tasks begging for my attention and just want to hide under the covers and never come out. That kinda sucks when you’re a full time wife, mom of three young kids, and a writer. I mean, I have things to do, people! I can’t just give into this monster called depression.
So, I’m not. I’m doing my best to balance my life so that depression does not get the upper hand. Sure, it clouds up the day sometimes, but I’m learning to deal with it. Besides a low-dose medication, I try to take care of myself physically. When I keep active and eat right, I can definitely feel a difference.
I am careful not to take on more work than I can reasonably accomplish. That can be hard, simply saying “No” to things, especially when it’s something I would enjoy. And I have to stay somewhat organized in planning activities, making lists, keeping track of events and working steadily on tasks so I’m not falling too far behind. But, that’s what I have to do to keep my mind at ease and not sink into the shadows of depression.
Through this journey (or roller coaster ride), I’m learning more about myself. I’m learning my strengths and weaknesses and how to play up the former and work around the latter. I’m learning to be more pro-active and to speak my mind more often, which often means saying no to tempting offers. I’m learning to live my life in spite of depression, because I have a great life to live!
What’s holding you back? How do you jump over your own hurdles and live in spite of it all?
****
Somewhere, hidden in the waters of the Southern Sea, lies an island unlike any other. Within the amber glow of its pyrogem-laden cliffs, legend says the very heart of the dragon god Drae keeps the island, and its occupants, alive.
Loralee Munroviel, daughter of Leogard’s High Priestess Arianne, had no idea what she would face when she arrived by boat ten years ago and was left alone in exile. All she knew about Draekoria’s inhabitants was written in one tattered notebook. Now, her life revolves around keeping Drae’s descendants happy. Never in her life did she imagine being a Dragon Keeper.
Captain Igrorio Everlyn, known as Sir Robert to his unit of Holy Paladins, has faced his share of hell, battling the evils of Emperor Sarvonn’s tyranny and the dark god Tyr’s abominations. But none of that compares to the ten years of hell he’s been without Loralee, presumed dead.
One freak storm changes everything. Now the two of them must fight to re-establish the delicate balance of the island before the dragons take things into their own hands. Through it all, they discover the secrets that kept them, and their hearts, exiled for a decade.
Title: Hearts In Exile
Series: Tallenmere (stand-alone)
Author: Mysti Parker
Genre: Paranormal, Fantasy, Romance
Publisher: Melange Books
Formats Available In: All eBook formats and Print
Release Date: June 3, 2013
Excerpt From Chapter Three:
After a shipwreck, Sir Robert wakes up in a strange cottage, only to find Loralee, the love of his life, whom he thought had been dead for a decade…
“I don’t understand. What is this place?”
“It’s an island. Very few know of its existence.”
I shook my head, trying to clear the fog of this confusing dream come to life. “But, why would you be here, and why would you be sorry? Unless…”
The words wouldn’t come. My racing mind pitched in to help. Unless she didn’t want to marry me after all.
Wrenching pain I’d kept tucked inside broke free, and I clambered to my feet. Loralee followed suit, backing herself into the small dining table.
I tried, but could not hide the bitter anger in my words. “How could you do this to me? Do you have any idea what I’ve been through?”
Her eyes widened. She clutched the table with one hand and her robe with the other. “What you’ve been through? I didn’t want this. I was forced here.”
“What do you mean, forced here? Where are your shackles?” My voice roared through the little cottage as I gestured around me with one arm. “Where are the bars? This looks like no prison I’ve ever seen.”
Her voice cracked the air, rivaling with my own. “I was betrayed, forced into exile. Don’t you understand? I never wanted to leave you. I never wanted anything so much as I wanted you.”
Pacing away, I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. I had to calm myself, to let the weight of this discovery, the improbability of her explanation to sink into my water-logged brain.
I couldn’t bring myself to look at her just yet, so I stared at my bare feet instead. “Why didn’t you tell me, write to me?”
“I tried. I begged the supply ship crew to bring my letters to you. They always took them, but never brought one in return. I suspect they destroyed them, but I had no way of knowing.” She sucked in a shaky breath as though trying to hold back her tears. “I never stopped loving you.”
Turning back to face her, I felt like a mindless beast. Here I was, raging against the love of my life when she’d all but been brought back from the dead.
“Loralee.” I eased toward her. She cringed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Without a word, I leaned in and pressed my forehead to hers, allowing myself to breathe in her scent for the first time in a decade. We stood suspended like that for a while, lost in time, and emerging from a purgatory neither of us had imagined ten years ago. I would have been content to stand like that forever, but Loralee burst into tears and wilted to the floor.
I followed her down and opened the quilt to wrap us both inside. I held her tight while she cried.
While I cried.
I finally got enough breath to speak again. “What did you mean by forced here? They told me you were…” I couldn’t say it, not with her warm and so very alive against me.
“I know.”
The weight of it all came crashing down on me. “This is my fault, isn’t it? You’re here because of me.”
She made no attempt to wipe her cheeks, but shook her head and stared at the rafters as though entreating the gods. “No, it’s not your fault. Not at all. There is so much to explain, I don’t know where to start.”
I couldn’t comprehend any of it, so I focused on the here and now. “You found me on the shore?”
She nodded.
“The crew, Francis…did you find anyone else out there?”
“No, I had Xax-, I mean, no, I searched but didn’t find anyone else.”
The familiar weight of grief squeezed my chest, and a few more tears escaped before I could stop them.
She pulled me close and whispered, “I’m so sorry. I know how much you loved him. We all did.”
“We all grieved for you. You’ve been here…all this time?”
“Yes.”
“By the gods, Loralee, I’ve missed you so much.” I put my wet cheek against hers and pressed my lips to her soft skin. “Part of me died the day I thought you… please…just tell me how you ended up here.”
Loralee took a few deep breaths and finally pulled away from me. She caressed my cheek and smiled weakly. “I’ll make us a pot of tea. And then, I think we should start at the beginning, back to the Great Plague and when we first met. Do you remember that?”
Smiling past the sadness, I covered her hand with mine and closed my eyes. “How could I ever forget?”
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Robert J. Ray is a writer/ teacher with six Matt Murdock Mysteries, three volumes of The Weekend Novelist writing series, a tennis story, a thriller about diamonds, a small business textbook that has gone through five editions, and short pieces for magazines. He spent a dozen years teaching college students how to write better. He spent five years teaching tennis, using techniques like Inner Game.
Connect with Mr. Ray at these sites:
A dead girl with an arrow sticking out of her back sends Matt Murdock and Helene Steinbeck on a killer-hunt that takes them to Angel Mountain where a cold-blooded steely-eyed killer has hypnotized some rich people into funding a naughty habit involving pretty girls, young women in great shape from the worlds of Art and Professional Sport. The odds are fifty to one that they won’t get out of this mess alive.
She had the day off and she was lonely in Taos so she took her laptop and her sketchpad and sat in the shade at the Hard Wire Café. She was sketching a guy for money because she was broke.
He was handsome, with a great tan and a gorgeous smile. When he left her with a twenty she felt even lonelier. She bought a coffee, sweet iced latte, and hung out—was he gone forever or what?
An hour passed, then two. She did another sketch—ten bucks, thank you—and then the handsome guy was back.
“Come to a party,” he said. “Artists and writers, Colony People. Our kind, okay?”
The guy drove a silver Humvee.
She kicked off her sandals and settled into the comfy seat smiling. The guy had this really great profile.The Humvee climbed up, past the Pueblo, and crossed through a gate into Never-Never Land. Roofs, aspen trees turning, a lawn so green it came from England.
The first person she met gave her a drag. The smoke invaded her brain, curled like a cat. The people were beautiful, some her age, some younger. The food was out of this world.
Smoked meat, soft and succulent. “Have another bite, hon?” What is this meat, anyway?
There was wine, beer, tequila shooters, Scotch whiskey so smooth it raised your hopes for a better world. A world for starving artists like herself.
She danced around the campfire, barefoot. Her feet were tough from pounding New York streets.
A pretty girl, Tammy with a Texas accent and a bouncy blonde ponytail, whipped off her blouse and kept dancing— torchlight on bare tits, sell that sketch, make a killing.
Another girl, another blouse, and another. Blouses tossed like leaves in the wind, until she was the only one left, the only girl not on display. So she said, “What the hell?” and they clapped their hands, chanting, as she flung her blouse away and then….
Genre: Mystery
Published by: Camel Press
Publication Date: June 15, 2013
Number of Pages: 331
ISBN: 978-1-60381-925-1 // 978-1-60381-926-8
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DISCLAIMER
I received a copy of this book, at no charge to me, in exchange for my honest review. No items that I receive are ever sold…they are kept by me, or given to family and/or friends.
ADDENDUM
I do not have any affiliation with Amazon.com or Barnes & Noble. I am an IndieBound affiliate. I am providing link(s) solely for visitors that may be interested in purchasing this Book/EBook.
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