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The Language of Flowers Virtual Book Tour September 2011
Join Vanessa Diffenbaugh, author of the women’s fiction book, The Languauge of Flowers (Ballantine Books, August 23, 2011), as she virtually tours the blogosphere in September on her first virtual book tour with Pump Up Your Book!
About Vanessa Diffenbaugh
Vanessa Diffenbaugh was born in San Francisco and raised in Chico, California. After studying creative writing and education at Stanford, she went on to teach art and writing to youth in low-income communities. She and her husband, PK, have three children: Tre’von, eighteen; Chela, four; and Miles, three. Tre’von, a former foster child, is attending New York University on a Gates Millennium Scholarship. Diffenbaugh and her family currently live in Cambridge, Massachusetts, where her husband is studying urban school reform at Harvard.
You can visit Vanessa Diffenbaugh’s website at www.VanessaDiffenbaugh.com.
About The Language of Flowers
The Victorian language of flowers was used to convey romantic expressions: honeysuckle for devotion, aster for patience, and red roses for love. But for Victoria Jones, it’s been more useful in communicating grief, mistrust, and solitude. After a childhood spent in the foster-care system, she is unable to get close to anybody, and her only connection to the world is through flowers and their meanings.
Now eighteen and emancipated from the system, Victoria has nowhere to go and sleeps in a public park, where she plants a small garden of her own. Soon a local florist discovers her talents, and Victoria realizes that she has a gift for helping others through the flowers she chooses for them. But a mysterious vendor at the flower market inspires her to question what’s been missing in her life. And when she’s forced to confront a painful secret from her past, she must decide whether it’s worth risking everything for a second chance at happiness.
Read an Excerpt!
For eight years I dreamed of fire. Trees ignited as I passed them; oceans burned. The sugary smoke settled in my hair as I slept, the scent like a cloud left on my pillow as I rose. Even so, the moment my mattress started to burn, I bolted awake. The sharp, chemical smell was nothing like the hazy syrup of my dreams; the two were as different as Indian and Carolina jasmine, separation and attachment. They could not be confused.
Standing in the middle of the room, I located the source of the fire. A neat row of wooden matches lined the foot of the bed. They ignited, one after the next, a glowing picket fence across the piped edging. Watching them light, I felt a terror unequal to the size of the flickering flames, and for a paralyzing moment I was ten years old again, desperate and hopeful in a way I had never been before and would never be again.
But the bare synthetic mattress did not ignite like the thistle had in late October. It smoldered, and then the fire went out.
It was my eighteenth birthday.
In the living room, a row of fidgeting girls sat on the sagging couch. Their eyes scanned my body and settled on my bare, unburned feet. One girl looked relieved; another disappointed. If I’d been staying another week, I would have remembered each expression. I would have retaliated with rusty nails in the soles of shoes or small pebbles in bowls of chili. Once, I’d held the end of a glowing metal clothes hanger to a sleeping roommate’s shoulder, for an offense less severe than arson.
But in an hour, I’d be gone. The girls knew this, every one.
From the center of the couch, a girl stood up. She looked young—?fifteen, sixteen at most—and was pretty in a way I didn’t see much of: good posture, clear skin, new clothes. I didn’t immediately recognize her, but when she crossed the room there was something familiar about the way she walked, arms bent and aggressive. Though she’d just moved in, she was not a stranger; it struck me that I’d lived with her before, in the years after Elizabeth, when I was at my most angry and violent.
Inches from my body, she stopped, her chin jutting into the space between us.
“The fire,” she said evenly, “was from all of us. Happy birthday.”
Behind her, the row of girls on the couch squirmed. A hood was pulled up, a blanket wrapped tighter. Morning light flickered across a line of lowered eyes, and the girls looked suddenly young, trapped. The only ways out of a group home like this one were to run away, age out, or be institutionalized. Level 14 kids weren’t adopted; they rarely, if ever, went home. These girls knew their prospects. In their eyes was nothing but fear: of me, of their housemates, of the life they had earned or been given. I felt an unexpected rush of pity. I was leaving; they had no choice but to stay.
I tried to push my way toward the door, but the girl stepped to the side, blocking my path.
“Move,” I said.
A young woman working the night shift poked her head out of the kitchen. She was probably not yet twenty, and more terrified of me than any of the girls in the room.
“Please,” she said, her voice begging. “This is her last morning. Just let her go.”
I waited, ready, as the girl before me pulled her stomach in, fists clenched tight. But after a moment, she shook her head and turned away. I walked around her.
I had an hour before Meredith would come for me. Opening the front door, I stepped outside. It was a foggy San Francisco morning, the concrete porch cool on my bare feet. I paused, thinking. I’d planned to gather a response for the girls, something biting and hateful, but I felt strangely forgiving. Maybe it was because I was eighteen, because, all at once, it was over for me, that I was able to feel tenderness toward their crime. Before I left, I wanted to say something to combat the fear in their eyes.
Walking down Fell, I turned onto Market. My steps slowed as I reached a busy intersection, unsure of where to go. Any other day I would have plucked annuals from Duboce Park, scoured the overgrown lot at Page and Buchanan, or stolen herbs from the neighborhood market. For most of a decade I’d spent every spare moment memorizing the meanings and scientific descriptions of individual flowers, but the knowledge went mostly unutilized. I used the same flowers again and again: a bouquet of marigold, grief; a bucket of thistle, misanthropy; a pinch of dried basil, hate. Only occasionally did my communication vary: a pocketful of red carnations for the judge when I realized I would never go back to the vineyard, and peony for Meredith, as often as I could find it. Now, searching Market Street for a florist, I scoured my mental dictionary.
After three blocks I came to a liquor store, where paper-wrapped bouquets wilted in buckets under the barred windows. I paused in front of the store. They were mostly mixed arrangements, their messages conflicting. The selection of solid bouquets was small: standard roses in red and pink, a wilting bunch of striped carnations, and, bursting from its paper cone, a cluster of purple dahlias. Dignity. Immediately, I knew it was the message I wanted to give. Turning my back to the angled mirror above the door, I tucked the flowers inside my coat and ran.
I was out of breath by the time I returned to the house. The living room was empty, and I stepped inside to unwrap the dahlias. The flowers were perfect starbursts, layers of white-tipped purple petals unfurling from tight buds of a center. Biting off an elastic band, I detangled the stems. The girls would never understand the meaning of the dahlias (the meaning itself an ambiguous statement of encouragement); even so, I felt an unfamiliar lightness as I paced the long hall, slipping a stem under each closed bedroom door.
The remaining flowers I gave to the young woman who’d worked the night shift. She was standing by the kitchen window, waiting for her replacement.
“Thank you,” she said when I handed her the bouquet, confusion in her voice. She twirled the stiff stems between her palms.
Meredith arrived at ten o’clock, as she’d told me she would. I waited on the front porch, a cardboard box balanced on my thighs. In eighteen years I’d collected mostly books: the Dictionary of Flowers and Peterson Field Guide to Pacific States Wildflowers, both sent to me by Elizabeth a month after I left her home; botany textbooks from libraries all over the East Bay; thin paperback volumes of Victorian poetry stolen from quiet bookstores. Stacks of folded clothes covered the books, a collection of found and stolen items, some that fit, many that did not. Meredith was taking me to The Gathering House, a transitional home in the Outer Sunset. I’d been on the waiting list since I was ten.
“Happy birthday,” Meredith said as I put my box on the backseat of her county car. I didn’t say anything. We both knew that it might or might not have been my birthday. My first court report listed my age as approximately three weeks; my birth date and location were unknown, as were my biological parents. August 1 had been chosen for purposes of emancipation, not celebration.
I slunk into the front seat next to Meredith and closed the door, waiting for her to pull away from the curb. Her acrylic fingernails tapped against the steering wheel. I buckled my seat belt. Still, the car did not move. I turned to face Meredith. I had not changed out of my pajamas, and I pulled my flannel-covered knees up to my chest and wrapped my jacket around my legs. My eyes scanned the roof of Meredith’s car as I waited for her to speak.
“Well, are you ready?” she asked.
I shrugged.
“This is it, you know,” she said. “Your life starts here. No one to blame but yourself from here on out.”
Meredith Combs, the social worker responsible for selecting the stream of adoptive families that gave me back, wanted to talk to me about blame.
Read the Reviews!
“A deftly powerful story of finding your way home, even after you’ve burned every bridge behind you, The Language of Flowers took my heart apart, chapter by chapter, then reassembled the broken pieces in better working condition. I loved this book.”
—Jamie Ford, author of Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet
Watch the video trailer on YouTube!
The Language of Flowers Tour Schedule
Monday, September 5th
Book spotlighted at The Book Connection
Tuesday, September 6th
Book reviewed at A Journey Into Reading
Wednesday, September 7th
Book reviewed at Reading Frenzy
Thursday, September 8th
Book reviewed and giveaway at Backseat Writer
Friday, September 9th
Book reviewed at Reviews from the Heart
Monday, September 12th
Book spotlighted at Books, Products, and More
Tuesday, September 13th
Book spotlighted at The Hot Author Report
Wednesday, September 14th
Book spotlighted at Paperback Writer
Thursday, September 15th
Book spotlighted at The Writer’s Life
Friday, September 16th
Book reviewed at Geek Girl Reviews
Monday, September 19th
Book spotlighted at Review from Here
Tuesday, September 20th
Book reviewed at Splashes of Joy
Book reviewed at Christa Allan’s blog
Wednesday, September 21st
Book reviewed at Just Another Book Addict
Thursday, September 22nd
Book reviewed at Hey, I want to read that
Friday, September 23rd
Book reviewed at Always with a Book
Monday, September 26th
Book reviewed at So Many Books..So Little Time
Tuesday, September 27th
Book reviewed at D’Ambrosia Arts
Wednesday, September 28th
Book reviewed at Book Journey
Thursday, September 29th
Book spotlighted at Between the Covers
Book spotlighted at Broowaha
Friday, September 30th
Book reviewed at Colloquium
Vanessa Diffenbaugh’s THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS VIRTUAL BOOK TOUR will officially begin on September 5th and end on September 30th, 2011. We hope you’ll join us!
Your Average Joe Unplugged Virtual Book Tour September 2011
Join Joseph D. Schneller, author of the humorous and insightful Christian devotional, Your Average Joe: Unplugged (Nordskog Publishing, July 2011) as he virtually tours the blogosphere in September on his first virtual book tour with Pump Up Your Book!
About Joseph Schneller
Joseph Schneller served as a captain in the U.S. Marine Corps and holds a Psychology degree from Whitworth. He is an alumnus of the Christian Writers Guild. His publishing credits include Focus on the Family’s Thriving Family, Clubhouse, and Focus on the Family; LifeWay’s Stand Firm; and Walk Thru the Bible’s Indeed. He writes nonfiction and humor for adults, and fiction for children, youth, and adults. He and his wife, Kippi, live in Colorado with their two young boys.
Your Average Joe: Unplugged is his first book. You can visit Joseph Schneller’s website at www.josephschneller.com
About Your Average Joe: Unplugged
Joseph writes for those tired of the canned answers for everyday believers desiring to live in faith amidst the joys and pains, the responsibilities and tragedies of life. Through 30 daily devotionals and a half-dozen humorous articles, he presents honest, often humorous encouragement for our Christian pilgrimage through this fallen world.
Read an Excerpt!
Trash Talk*
(Women Are Not Allowed To Read This)
OK, now that it’s just us guys, let’s get down to business. You are a newly married man. While this is a great thing in many regards, you’ve quickly learned that your bachelor ways are Downright Wrong.
Living with your new bride is not the same as rooming with Al and Pigpen. In fact, every rule of communication, time management, and cleanliness is currently undergoing a Drastic Overhaul. Tearing up a little? It’s OK. We’ll handle these one at a time. Today’s topic: garbage.
At some point after the honeymoon (usually Day #2), your wife addressed the Division of Household Responsibilities. One of yours is taking out the trash. Why are you responsible for the garbage? Because it’s in your genes, just like it’s in your wife’s genes to decorate the house with tiny books entitled Friendship Is Forever, Precious Puppies, and Fuzzy Things That Squeak. (Side Note: At some point, you will be tempted to place one of these books beneath the short leg of the kitchen table. But unless you enjoy indoor cold fronts, leave the books alone.)
Read These Endorsements!
“Schneller writes and talks like a guy who rolls up his sleeves, goes to work, faces challenges, feels pain, works through struggles, gets tired, reaches goals, and finds victory through faith and gut-level logic. His devotions are laced with humor, honest confessions, Biblical lessons, and modern applications. . . . he’s got a brand of street smart theology that is very appealing.”
–Dr. Dennis E. Hensley Author of Man to Man
“If you’re looking for an honest, funny, encouraging devotional that does more than tell you to try harder to be a good Christian, look no further than Your Average Joe Unplugged . With helpful thoughts and strategic Bible verses related to real-life topics such as career, marriage, and dealing with fear, you’ll find yourself encouraged even as you laugh and realize that you’re not alone in your struggles.”
–Matt Erickson, Walk Thru the Bible Ministries
“I highly recommend this book. It is filled with timeless truths of the Scriptures; transparent, from-the-heart stories; and delightful humor. Joe has an authentic writing style that mixes real-life situations with Bible truths. While reading Your Average Joe Unplugged , you will laugh out loud, be deeply touched, and be drawn into a closer relationship with Jesus.”
–Patty R. Wife, mother, church administrator
Your Average Joe: Unplugged Tour Schedule
Monday, September 5th
Book reviewed at Books, Products and More!
Tuesday, September 6th
Book excerpt featured at Between the Covers
Book reviewed at Splashes of Joy
Wednesday, September 7th
Interviewed at The Book Connection
Thursday, September 8th
Interviewed at The Hot Author Report
Friday, September 9th
Guest blogging at Literarily Speaking
Monday, September 12th
Interviewed at As the Pages Turn
Tuesday, September 13th
Interviewed at Blogcritics
Wednesday, September 14th
Interviewed at Pump Up Your Book
Thursday, September 15th
Guest blogging at Paperback Writer
Friday, September 16th
Guest blogging at Lori’s Reading Corner
Monday, September 19th
Guest blogging at Literal Exposure
Tuesday, September 20th
Book spotlighted at Pump Up Your Books, Blurbs and Bytes
Wednesday, September 21st
Spotlighted at Broowaha
Thursday, September 22nd
Interviewed at Examiner
Friday, September 23rd
Guest blogging at Review from Here
Monday, September 26th
Guest blogging at The Story Behind the Book
Tuesday, September 27th
Guest blogging at Let’s Talk Virtual Book Tours
Wednesday, September 28th
Book reviewed at 4 the Love of Books
Thursday, September 29th
Book spotlighted at American Chronicle
Joseph Schneller’s YOUR AVERAGE JOE: UNPLUGGED VIRTUAL BOOK TOUR will officially begin on September 5th and end on September 30th, 2011. We hope you join us!
The Queen’s Gamble Virtual Book Tour September 2011
Join Barbara Kyle, author of the historical novel, The Queen’s Gamble (Kensington Books, August 30, 2011) as she virtually tours the blogosphere in September on her first virtual book tour with Pump Up Your Book!
About Barbara Kyle
Barbara Kyle is the author of the Tudor-era “Thornleigh” series of novels, which have been published internationally: The Queen’s Captive, The Queen’s Lady, and The King’s Daughter, praised by Publishers Weekly as “a complex and fast-paced plot, mixing history with vibrant characters.” Her new novel, The Queen’s Gamble, will be released on 30 August 2011.
Barbara previously won acclaim for her contemporary novels under pen name ‘Stephen Kyle’, including Beyond Recall (a Literary Guild Selection), After Shock and The Experiment. Over 400,000 copies of her books have been sold.
Barbara has taught courses for writers at the University of Toronto School of Continuing Studies, and is known for her dynamic workshops for many writers organizations. Her popular series of video workshops “Writing Fiction That Sells” is available through her website. Before becoming an author, Barbara enjoyed a twenty-year acting career in television, film, and stage productions in Canada and the U.S.
Visit www.BarbaraKyle.com.
About The Queen’s Gamble
Young Queen Elizabeth I’s path to the throne has been a perilous one, and already she faces a dangerous crisis. French troops have landed in Scotland to quell a rebel Protestant army, and Elizabeth fears that once they are entrenched on the border, they will invade England.
Isabel Thornleigh has returned to London from the New World with her Spanish husband, Carlos Valverde, and their young son. Ever the queen’s loyal servant, Isabel is recruited to smuggle money to the Scottish rebels. Yet Elizabeth’s trust only goes so far—Isabel’s son will be the queen’s pampered hostage until she completes her mission. Matters grow worse when Isabel’s husband is engaged as military advisor to the French, putting the couple on opposite sides in a deadly cold war.
Set against a lush, vibrant backdrop peopled with unforgettable characters and historical figures, The Queen’s Gamble is a story of courage, greed, passion, and the high price of loyalty…
Read an Excerpt
Read the Reviews!
“Unfurls a complex and fast-paced plot, mixing history with vibrant characters.”
–Publishers Weekly on The King’s Daughter
“Kyle is adept at layering her tale with colorful descriptions, accurate details and exciting twists within a fast-paced plot designed to keep readers’ attention.”
–Romantic Times on The Queen’s Captive
“Riveting, heady, glorious, inspired.”
–Susan Wiggs on The Queen’s Lady
“Action-packed adventure that expertly blends fiction with history.”
–Publishers Weekly on The Queen’s Gamble “Beyond Her Book” blog
The Queen’s Gamble Tour Schedule
Monday, September 5th
Guest blogging at Lori’s Reading Corner
Tuesday, September 6th
Book reviewed at Reviews by Molly
Wednesday, September 7th
Interviewed at The Hot Author Report
Thursday, September 8th
Book spotlighted at Books, Products and More!
Friday, September 9th
Book reviewed at Broken Teepee
Monday, September 12th
Book reviewed at By the Book
Book spotlighted at The Plot
Tuesday, September 13th
Book reviewed at Sharon’s Garden of Book Reviews
Character interviewed at The Plot
Wednesday, September 14th
Book reviewed at Always with A Book
Thursday, September 15th
Interviewed at Pump Up Your Book!
Friday, September 16th
Book reviewed at Cheryl’s Book Nook
Monday, September 19th
Interviewed at Paperback Writer
Tuesday, September 20th
Book reviewed at The Muse in the Fog Book Review
Wednesday, September 21st
Book reviewed at Books, Belles, and Beaux
Thursday, September 22nd
Guest blogging at Literal Exposure
Friday, September 23rd
Book reviewed at Debbie’s Book Bag
Monday, September 26th
Book reviewed at Passages to the Past
Tuesday, September 27th
Book reviewed at Splashes of Joy
Wednesday, September 28th
Guest blogging at Literarily Speaking
Thursday, September 29th
Book reviewed at The Book Connection
Friday, September 30th
Book reviewed at Life in Review
Book reviewed at CelticLady’s Reviews
Barbara Kyle’s THE QUEEN’S GAMBLE VIRTUAL BOOK TOUR will officially begin on September 5th and end on September 30th, 2011. We hope you’ll join us!
Book Spotlight: Peter: Rock Star from Galilee by Sherree Funk
If the New Testament were a Broadway musical, Peter would be one of the stars. He lived life loud, while making his best effort to be one of the best disciples. Peter was like a modern day rock star, but his struggles were just like ours. If Jesus could shape Peter into a solid rock of a disciple, he can surely do the same for you.
From his first call to follow, Peter was acutely aware of his own sinfulness. He wanted Jesus to go away, but ended up following. What makes people push Jesus away today? What makes them decide to follow? These are the kinds of “chew on this” questions you’ll find in Week One of Peter: Rock Star from Galilee.
Music always speaks to a deep place in the heart. Let music accompany your Bible study. Peter: Rock Star from Galilee will guide you through the ups and downs of Peter’s life story with a playlist of songs and hymns paralleling each chapter.
To better understand the feelings Peter had after denying Jesus three times, listen to Josh Wilson’s “Before the Morning.” Feel the love Christ had for all people even as he died by listening to the lyrics of “Amazing Love” by Chris Tomlin. By the end of the eight week study, you will create your own playlist of at least eight songs to bring back all you learned about Peter.
This eight-week study includes:
• Interactive questions for personal study and “chew on this” questions for small group discussion
• Photographs, maps, and informative sidebars for historical and geographical context
• Hands-on mission activities and discipleship challenges to encourage teens’ growing faith
Read an excerpt!
I have always loved hymns and praise music. As a little girl, I memorized multiple verses of dozens of hymns. As an adult, when contemporary Christian music came of age, I kept Christian radio playing in my car. When my children were young, Houston’s KSBJ played the music we sang along to during carpool. Music has a way
of speaking to the heart, and the message lingers long after spoken or written words have been forgotten.
As I began writing Peter: Rock Star from Galilee, I kept noticing how some of my favorite Christian songs fit beautifully with lessons about Peter. Some songs refer to specific incidents in Peter’s life, some speak to feelings Peter might have had, and some link lessons Peter learned to life in today’s world.
With iTunes and iPods, today’s teenagers are wired for music most of the time. So each chapter of this Bible study starts with a playlist of songs. Incorporating music with study is a great way to make spiritual lessons stick.
Play it. Sing it. Live it.
How is this Study Guide Set Up?
Each of the eight chapters has the following:
A playlist in which each song pertains in some way to the lessons of the week. Try listening to them, paying attention to the lyrics.
A preview of the week’s study and a prayer to set you off in the right direction.
Five days of study with interactive, short-answer questions.
‘Chew on this’ questions for deeper thought.
Christian Reality Challenges for hands-on faith building.
Into My Life—your guide for the small-group meeting, including:
The Jam Session, a condensed list of questions for small-group discussion.
A replay summary of the week and a final prayer.
Read the reviews!
“Peter’s impulsiveness and failures make him an easy character for young men and women to relate to. As your students dive into this Bible study I have no doubt that they will be challenged and transformed by the lessons Sherree has assembled here.”
–Jayson Samuels, Co-Founder and Family Pastor, Northbridge Community Church, Cranberry, PA
“I highly recommend this book to Sunday School classes or Bible Studies involving teens or pre-teen…If you are looking for a new study that will capture your teen’s attention, this study is for you!”
-Splashes of Joy
“This is a great way to encourage a teen to spend more time in the Word and not have him feel like it’s a chore…”
-Confessions of an Overworked Mom
“Honestly one of the most unique studies for teens that I have found that utilizes a great man of the Bible and how we can be like him. Sherree is in the forefront of writing enjoyable and engaging Bible studies for teens that will help equip them for the battle ahead.”
-So Many Books..So Little Time
“If you are looking for a new study for the teens in your life, I highly recommend Peter: Rock Star From Galilee and give it a huge thumbs up!”
-A Mom After God’s Own Heart
“If you are looking for a deeper understanding of how God can use ordinary people in daily life, this is a book that is worth checking out.”
-Lynn’s Corner
Well-grounded in biblical Christianity, Sherree G. Funk is passionate about sharing her love and knowledge of God’s Word with the next generation. She has earned Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees and holds a Certificate in Christian Studies from Asbury Theological Seminary. Sherree leads small groups of teens at Ingomar UMC. Peter: Rock Star from Galilee is her latest release. Her other teen Bible studies are available at www.servingonelord.com.
The River of Forgettting, A Brave and Inspirational Memoir by Jane Rowan
Jane Rowan is a New England poet and writer. After teaching science for three decades in a private college, she retired to pursue the creative life. She has
published numerous articles and the self-help booklet Caring for the Child Within—A Manual for Grownups, available through her website and through Amazon (Kindle). An excerpt from The River of Forgetting appeared in Women Reinvented: True Stories of Empowerment and Change. Visit Jane at www.janerowan.com
and find out more about her memoir at www.riverofforgetting.com.
About The River of Forgetting
People don’t make up things like that for fun.
That’s what Jane’s therapist tells her when Jane reports fragmentary memories from her childhood that hint at sexual abuse. A busy, successful scientist, Jane at first fights the implications, but finally has to admit that something indeed happened. With help from a gifted therapist as well as creative arts, Jane taps 
into her own aliveness and reconciles with both her parents’ love and their betrayal.
This deeply personal memoir invites the reader behind the closed doors of the therapist’s office and into the author’s journal and her very body. Jane’s tender story shows how we can use the challenges of painful childhood traumas to transform our lives.
270 pages
Read an excerpt from The River of Forgetting at www.riverofforgetting.com
Purchase this book at Amazon.com!
Also available in a Kindle edition!
Sentiments of Blue by Garasamo Maccagnone
Set in a Michigan factory, the title story takes readers inside a workplace dominated by a ruthless bully and his cronies. While explaining the actions taking place around him, it becomes clear that the narrator yearns to escape the blue-collar life handed down to him from his father. “Perfect Game” unfolds during a minor league baseball game with Chi-Chi Gomez on the mound, a fearless pitcher who never fails to brush a few batters back from the plate–a space he considers his personal property. Along with other stories, the book also features original poems including “Uncle Nardo’s Store,” “My Father’s Foot,” and “The Malediction of Miss Holstein.”
Read an Excerpt!
The Careers of My Mother
When I was a boy
she was a secretary.
Her nights were filled
with filing groceries,
taking phone calls,
posting notes
around his office
to remind him of things
he always forgot.
Then, when I turned fourteen,
My mother earned her law degree.
As a defense counselor,
she became a dazzling chief litigator,
furious with her polished tongue,
bullying us with verbal assaults,
clearing his name with brilliant oration
while drilling her steely finger into my chest
with every point she made!
Today, she’s a nurse.
From the den I watch her
slowly lean over to turn him,
stroke his hair, cut the drool that sways,
from the corner of his mouth,
kiss his hand that trembles
between the tubes that feed him.
Read the Reviews!
Throughout the pages of Sentiments Of Blue, author Garasamo Maccagnone takes the reader deep into the hearts and minds of individuals who find themselves up against some of the greatest challenges of their lives. A creative mix of poetry and short stories, Sentiments Of Blue conveys the raw, unfiltered essence of humanity at its best and worst, painting for the reader a compelling portrait of courage in the face of fear and uncertainty.
Maccagnone’s collection leads off with five reflective poetic pieces, culminating with the jarring “My Father’s Foot” – an eye-opening offering sure to catch the reader off guard. Sentiments Of Blue then closes out with five engaging short stories, including the stirring “Perfect Game,” “Holy Thursday,” and the eponymous tale of a conflicted young soul yearning for release from the mundane legacy of his father. All taken together, Maccagnone’s stories and poems comprise a quite moving collection with the potential to resonate within readers for a long time to come. An impressive, thought-provoking read.
–Apex Reviews
Garasamo Maccagnone is a writer and entrepreneur. The founder of a successful airfreight business, Maccagnone now focuses on his literary career. He is the author of the novel St. John of the Midfield, the novella, For the Love of St. Nick, a collection of short stories entitled, My Dog Tim and Other Stories, and a children’s book titled, The Suburban Dragon. Sentiments of Blue is his latest short story collection. Maccagnone currently lives in Shelby Township where he is working on his second novel, The Sorrows of Pebble Creek.
Find the author online at
http://garasamomaccagnone.com/
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The Confessions of Catherine de Medici by C.W. Gortner
Catherine de Medici was one of history’s most powerful women. She has been called brilliant and bold, but was also known as a vengeful Italian Jezebel who resorted to murder to protect her family’s throne. Was she the ruthless queen who led France into an era of savage violence? Or was she the passionate savior of the French monarchy?
Originally published in hardcover in 2010, C.W. Gortner’s novel THE CONFESSIONS OF CATHERINE DE MEDICI (Ballantine Trade Paperback; On Sale: May 24, 2011) challenges the dark legend surrounding Catherine de Medici, revealing her tumultuous youth as a papal pawn; her gift of second sight; her courageous fight to save France; and her secret passion for a man she is fated to destroy.
The last legitimate descendant of the illustrious Medici line, Catherine suffers the expulsion of her family from her native Florence and narrowly escapes death at the hands of an enraged mob. Married to a French prince, eventually a queen in name if not in her husband’s heart, she strives to create a role for herself, aided by her patronage of the famous clairvoyant Nostradamus and her own innate gift as a seer. But in her 40th year, Catherine is widowed, left alone with six young children as regent of a kingdom torn apart by religious discord and the ambitions of a treacherous nobility.
Relying on her tenacity, wit, and uncanny gift for compromise, Catherine seizes power, intent on securing the throne for her sons. She allies herself with the enigmatic Protestant leader Coligny, with whom she shares an intimate secret, and implacably carves a path toward peace, unaware that her own dark fate looms before her—a fate that, if she is to save France, will demand the sacrifice of her ideals, her reputation, and the passion of her embattled heart.
From the fairy-tale châteaux of the Loire Valley to the battlefields of the wars of religion to the mob-filled streets of Paris, THE CONFESSIONS OF CATHERINE DE MEDICI is the extraordinary untold journey of one of the most maligned and misunderstood women ever to be queen.
Read an Excerpt!
Chapter OneI was ten years old when i discovered i might be a witch.
I sat sewing with my aunt Clarice, as sunlight spread across the gallery floor. Outside the window I could hear the splashing of the courtyard fountain, the cries of the vendors in the Via Larga and staccato of horse hooves on the cobblestone streets, and I thought for the hundredth time that I couldn’t stay inside another minute.
“Caterina Romelo de’ Medici, can it be you’ve finished already?”
I looked up. My late father’s sister Clarice de’ Medici y Strozzi regarded me from her chair. I wiped my brow with my sleeve. “It’s so hot in here,” I said. “Can’t I go outside?”
She arched her eyebrow. Even before she said anything, I could have recited her words, so often had she drummed them into my head: “You are the Duchess of Urbino, daughter of Lorenzo de’ Medici and his wife, Madeleine de la Tour, who was of noble French blood. How many times must I tell you, you must restrain your impulses in order to prepare for your future?”
I didn’t care about the future. I cared that it was summer and here I was cooped up in the family palazzo forced to study and sew all day, as if I might melt in the sun.
I clapped my embroidery hoop aside. “I’m bored. I want to go home.”
“Florence is your home; it is your birth city,” she replied. “I took you from Rome because you were sick with fever. You’re fortunate you can sit here and argue with me at all.”
“I’m not sick anymore,” I retorted. I hated it when she used my poor health as an excuse. “At least in Rome, Papa Clement let me have my own servants and a pony to ride.”
She regarded me without a hint of the ire that the mention of my papal uncle always roused in her. “That may be but you are here now, in my care, and you will abide by my rules. It’s midafternoon. I’ll not hear of you going outside in this heat.”
“I’ll wear a cap and stay in the shade. Please, Zia Clarice. You can come with me.”
I saw her trying to repress her unwilling smile as she stood. “If your work is satisfactory, we can take a stroll on the loggia before supper.” She came to me, a thin woman in a simple gray gown, her oval face distinguished by her large liquid-black eyes—the Medici eyes, which I had inherited, along with our family’s curly auburn hair and long-fingered hands.
She swiped up my embroidery. Her lips pursed when she heard me giggle. “I suppose you think it’s funny to make the Holy Mother’s face green? Honestly, Caterina; such sacrilege.” She thrust the hoop at me. “Fix it at once. Embroidery is an art, one you must master as well as your other studies. I’ll not have it said that Caterina de’ Medici sews like a peasant.”
I thought it best not to laugh and began picking out the offensive color, while my aunt returned to her seat. She stared off into the distance. I wondered what new trials she planned for me. I did love her but she was forever dwelling on how our family prestige had fallen since the death of my great-grandfather, Lorenzo Il Magnifico; of how Florence had been a center of learning renowned for our Medici patronage, and now we were but illustrious guests in the city we had helped build. It was my responsibility, she said, to restore our family’s glory, as I was the last legitimate descendant of Il Magnifico’s bloodline.
I wondered how she expected me to accomplish such an important task. I’d been orphaned shortly after my birth; I had no sisters or brothers and depended on my papal uncle’s goodwill. When I once mentioned this, my aunt snapped: “Clement VII was born a bastard. He bribed his way to the Holy See, to our great shame. He’s not a true Medici. He has no honor.”
Given his prestige, if he couldn’t restore our family name I didn’t know how she expected me to. Yet she seemed convinced of my destiny, and every month had me dress in my uncomfortable ducal finery and pose for a new portrait, which was then copied into miniatures and dispatched to all the foreign princes who wanted to marry me. I was still too young for wedlock, but she left me no doubt she’d already selected the cathedral, the number of ladies who would attend me—
All of a sudden, my stomach clenched. I dropped my hands to my belly, feeling an unexpected pain. My surroundings distorted, as if the palazzo had plunged underwater. Nausea turned my mouth sour. I came to my feet blindly, hearing my chair crash over. A terrifying darkness overcame me. I felt my mouth open in a soundless scream as the darkness widened like a vast ink stain, swallowing everything around me. I was no longer in the gallery arguing with my aunt; instead, I stood in a desolate place, powerless against a force that seemed to well up from deep inside me . . .
I stand unseen, alone among strangers. They are weeping. I see tears slip down their faces, though I can’t hear their laments. Before me is a curtained bed, draped in black. I know at once something horrible lies upon it, something I should not see. I try to stay back but my feet move me toward it with the slow certainty of a nightmare, compelling me to reach out a spotted, bloated hand I do not recognize as my own, part the curtains, and reveal
“Dio Mio, no!” My cry wrenched from me. I felt my aunt holding me, the frantic caress of her hand on my brow. I had a terrible stomachache and lay sprawled on the floor, my embroidery and tangled yarns strewn beside me.
“Caterina, my child,” my aunt said. “Please, not the fever again . . .”
As the strange sensation of having left my own body began to fade, I forced myself to sit up. “I don’t think it’s the fever,” I said. “I saw something: a man, lying dead on a bed. He was so real, Zia . . . it scared me.”
She stared at me. Then she whispered, “Una visione,” as if it was something she’d long feared. She gave me a fragile smile, reaching out to help me to my feet. “Come, that’s enough for today. Let us go take that walk, si? Tomorrow we’ll visit the Maestro. He’ll know what to do.”
Read the Reviews!
“A remarkably thoughtful interpretation of an unapologetically ruthless queen.”
— Publishers Weekly
“Meticulously researched . . . Gortner breathes life into his queen.”
— Library Journal
“A compelling and fascinating view of Catherine’s life and world . . . You will devour this read. Highly recommended!”
— Historical Novels Review, Editors’ Choice Title
C.W. Gortner is the author of the acclaimed historical novels The Last Queen, The Confessions of Catherine de Medici, and The Tudor Secret. He holds an MFA in Writing with an emphasis on Renaissance Studies from the New College of California. In his extensive travels to research his books, he has danced a galliard in a Tudor great hall and experienced life in a Spanish castle. He is also a dedicated advocate for animal rights and environmental issues. Half-Spanish by birth, he divides his time between Northern California and Antigua, Guatemala.
You can visit the author online at www.cwgortner.com or his blog at
http://historicalboys.blogspot.com/
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In the Aerie of the Wolf by Leonora Pruner
While born in Dubuque, Iowa, Leonora Pruner was brought to California by her parents during the Second World War, which has since been her principal residence. In 1953, she graduated from Westmont College then earned an MBA from Pepperdine University in 1981. Having married in 1953, she has seen her family expand from two children to thirteen grandchildren and five great- grandchildren.
Writing has been an important activity since junior high. In the late ‘60s, an eighteenth-century English character on The Wonderful World of Disney, captivated her interest. The desire to create a variation of him, led to five years of extensive research, followed by the publication of two period novels in 1981 and 1987, Love’s Secret Storm, and Love’s Silent Gift. Feeling that all that research should be reused, eighteenth-century England continues as a setting for her work.
From 1987 to 1997, she lived in the Republic of Maldives collecting folklore and teaching economics and computer science. While there, she wrote the first drafts of Close to His Heart and The Aerie of the Wolf on her computer.
Visit Leonora online at
http://nordskogpublishing.com/book-in-the-aerie-of-the-wolf.shtml
About In the Aerie of the Wolf
Set in 18th century England, our heroine Anne is betrothed to a man she’s never met and must leave behind her girlhood fantasies. When she arrives at the home of Lord Wolverton, Master of the Wolf’s Aerie, the mysteries and challenges of her new life cause her to seek Biblical wisdom and guidance concerning honor, integrity, and faithfulness. In this story of the discovery of true love, there is also danger, betrayal, and sword fighting—and it all takes place in a castle complete with secret passageways. Become lost in another time and place. You will not want to put this book down.
Read an Excerpt!
The strange, deep voice coming from a dark corner startled her, prompting a rash of prickles on her skin. She heard a crunching step on one of the paths. Had he come through the door? She heard no sound of it. Should she call for Smithson? Anne pulled her Spanish shawl tighter as she rose and faced the voice, demanding in tones elevated by fear, “W-who are you?”
“Andrew Lupus, at your service.”
She saw the flash of diamond buckles as he made a proper leg in bowing. Diamonds? Who else could it be in this place? Despite a mouth suddenly dry she managed to murmur, “Anne Crofton,” and dropped a curtsy.
“I know.”
“Have we met?” she asked hesitantly, trying to recognize his voice.
“Not formally. We do not stand on ceremony at the Aerie.”
“Oh.” Her heart was pounding uncomfortably hard. “Are you, are you Lord Wolverton, m-my host?”
“The same.”
At last! She made a deep curtsy, trying to conceal her nervousness. “I am so happy to have this opportunity to thank you for your kindness in providing my lovely rooms. The moment I crossed the threshold, I felt the warmth of ‘home’.”
“Such was my desire. I am gratified it pleased you.”
She noticed the moonlight exposed the white stockings covering his ankles above the sparkling buckles. If she could talk long enough, it might move up his figure and reveal his features. “I was uneasy coming to this strange place, as you might imagine. But, on seeing my things from ho… the Haven, and realizing your considerable effort in bringing them here, not to say planning and forethought, I felt easier in my mind.”
“Then the efforts were more than justified. I trust your journey was not overly tiring.”
“No. Lengthy, but Old Samson took excellent care of me.”
“He is … my most faithful servant.”
Anne took a small step backwards and was pleased to see his feet move towards her and the moonlight expose his dark breeches fastened at his knees. “This is a very unusual garden. Old Samson said it was developed some years past, which I take to mean by one of your ancestors?”
“Traditions in the region indicate it was first planted in the 15th century by the eccentric master of the castle. He also delighted in fostering the notion that we were werewolves.”
Suddenly chilled, Anne asked, “W-werewolves? Surely you jest.”
“Not at all. Very likely it suited a perverse sense of humor or provided primitive power over a very superstitious people. Whatever his reasons, he cultivated that image. He called this place the ‘Aerie of the Wolf’ and took ‘Lupus’ as the family name.”
“How strange,” she murmured, seeing the dark skirt of his coat become visible, possibly brown like his servant’s livery. Casually, she moved a step away from him.
“Anything out of the way was attributed to him, justly or not. As a result, a number of legends grew up about us.” Again, his feet moved forward.
The fingers of his right hand became visible. Beneath the wide lace hanging from his sleeve, she noticed a ring with a large dark stone on his fore finger. Perhaps it was like the betrothal ring she wore. A word, long forgotten, learned with exciting shivers of fright, rose to her consciousness. Gripping her fan tightly, and taking a deep breath, she asked boldly, “And you, are you also a, ly, lycanthrope?”
“A what? A lycanthrope?”
Tensely, she awaited his reaction. Fascinated, she watched the light slowly move up his arm as he stepped towards her with a low laugh.
“You are asking me if I am a werewolf? Come, come. How might I answer? If I say ‘No, of course not,’ I could be lying. If I was a werewolf, I certainly would not admit to it to my … betrothed.”
The emotional timbre when he pronounced ‘betrothed’, created an enjoyable tingle in Anne. “No, I suppose not. I might be frightened away before being wed.”
“And that would not suit my plan at all.”
He almost sounded as if he was smiling. “And what is your plan, milord?” She tried to speak lightly, but her voice trembled slightly.
He paused briefly before answering in measured, vibrant tones, “To make you my wife.”
“Oh!” Her pulse quickened. “But why? Why me? You don’t even know me.”
“Ah, there you err. I know a great deal about you. Your gentle kindness and graciousness will be valued at the Aerie, and your wit and brave heart especially please me.”
“I cannot think why you should entertain such absurd ideas about me. I am far from brave, although I should like to be so,” she ended wistfully. She looked down at her fan, opened and closed it, and drifted back another step.
“It takes great courage to converse with a suspected werewolf on the night of a full moon without screaming for aid.”
She looked up in surprise. The lace of his shirt was clearly visible and metallic braid glinted down the front edges of his full-skirted coat. He’s not a great deal taller than I am, she thought. Perhaps he is shy because he is of small stature. “I, I may be foolish, but I admit I feel no danger.”
“Under these circumstances it is foolhardy to inquire if your companion is a werewolf, even in a veiled manner. The question might rouse him to a lethal reaction.”
“Ah, but if you do not wed me, your plan will fail. I must be safe until then.”
“As you say.”
“In any event, as your guest, I am already at your mercy, milord. Your many kindnesses encourage me to trust you.” Turning, she walked away slowly to the far side of the bench, hoping he would follow into the light. “Please, do not tell me my trust is misplaced,” she said, glancing hopefully over her shoulder.
But she was alone.
Read the Reviews!
“What a triumph! IN THE AERIE OF THE WOLF is Leonora Pruner’s best book ever. A gripping love story with the page-turning pacing of a gothic romance and the fairy tale evocations of The Beauty and The Beast. A heart-stopping tale set in the wilds of 18th century Yorkshire with Pruner’s superb period detail and spot-on theology.”
–Donna Fletcher Crow, VERY PRIVATE GRAVE, The Monastery Murders
The Virgin Mary in the Light of the Word of God by Dr. Labib Mikhail
Dr. Mikhail is a theologian, apologist, journalist, counselor, and television/radio, seminar, and evangelistic campaign speaker in the US and around the world. Originally from Egypt, Dr. Mikhail is a former professor of homiletics, psychology, and journalism in Faith Mission Bible College in Cairo, where he founded and pastured churches for more than thirty years. You can read more about Dr. Mikhail at www.nordskogpublishing.com.
About The Virgin Mary in the Light of the Word of God
The Virgin Mary in the Light of the Word of God fills a tremendous need for a concise, elegant, Biblical treatment of Mary. Dr. Labib, as he is affectionately known, gives Mary her due full honor while fending off the many faith-damaging myths perpetuated about her.
For those not well acquainted with but interested in Christianity and its true historic beliefs, you will find a straight-forward declaration of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. This is the Gospel that leads to the eternal and abundant life our God always intended for mankind, through the saving and sanctifying work of Jesus Christ. For the committed Christian, you will find an edifying presentation of the true Gospel and of sound doctrine.
The book is a balanced and Biblical portrait of the Virgin Mary. It is a relevant study clarifying Mary’s role and significance.
160 pages
Learn more about this book at
http://nordskogpublishing.com/book-virgin-mary-in-light-of-gospel.shtml
Rast, A Masterfully Told High Fantasy Novel by Christopher Hoare
Christopher Hoare lives with his wife, Shirley, and two shelter dogs, Coco and Emmie, in the foothills of the Canadian Rockies. As a lad he lived, breathed, and dreamed aeroplanes, won a place at RAE Farnborough learning to engineer them, but found the reality didn’t fit the dream. Did a stint in the army and then away to Libya to join the oil circus. Flying objects only appear as tools when they now appear in his writing.
His stories never take place next door to the lives most people live; the less charitable find similarity in characters who tend to be stubborn, independent, and contrarian. Perhaps there’s a connection between the worlds he portrays in fiction, and his working life in oil exploration in the Libyan Desert, the Canadian Arctic, and the mountains and forests of Western Canada.
He has written stories set in Anglo-Saxon Britain, in modern industrial projects, in the alternate world of Gaia, and the fantasy world of Rast. Sometimes known to satirize jobs and organizations he knows. Likes to write central characters who are smart, beautiful, and dangerous women who lead their male counterparts to fulfill dangerous duties they’d rather avoid. Gisel Matah in the Iskander series is perhaps the most Bond-like of these, but Jady in Rast can match her in many aspects.
About Rast
In Rast, magic is not a convenient parlour trick, it’s a deadly force that takes no prisoners. Those who must wield it are doomed, for it never ceases to work within the mind and nerves until it destroys its master. 
And now, the time of the interregnum is here; the reigning sorcerer king, the Drogar of Rast, is struggling for a last grasp on magic power while his heir, Prince Egon, must take up the deadly mantle. Egon is fearful but courageous in his duty. Not one peril threatens Rast, but many.
While he struggles to tame the magic to his command the mechanistic Offrang adventurers arrive to seize the land for their empire. The Offrangs don’t just disbelieve in magic, they treat any attempt to discuss it with withering scorn. Then, when the Drogar falters, the North Folk sweep out in their multitudes to cover the land of Rast at the behest of their depraved Casket of Scrolls. Deepning too, a creature of earth magic in its mountain pools, stirs to gain power enough to conquer Rast.
The Prince’s sweetheart Jady does her best to support him, but she is not strong enough in the power of the lineage to bear him a magic wielding heir. She sets out to meet the caravansi of the cousin princess who is sent to be his consort with duty and anger both warring in her mind. The crisis will reveal surprising enemies, surprising friends, and as the Drogar tells Jady, “Even a Drogar may not see a future not yet determined.” While Egon goes west to spy on the Offrangs and Jady makes her way east, the oracle provided by the Pythian that lives in a cavern beneath the palace reveals, “You have no high point to see the scattered threads but must trust to those who grasp them.”
Everyone, enemy and friend, has a part to play in the preservation of Rast.
269 pages
Visit Christopher’s website at www.christopherhoare.ca to learn much more, and download the free novella “Gisel Matah and the Slave Ship”. You can find his blog at
http://trailowner.blogspot.com
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