Not Quite Enough by Catherine Bybee

       Monica Mann is a hook up with them and then move on kind of woman.  She isn't ready for a commitment and she may never be.  When the earthquake happened and they were calling for Border-less Doctors and Nurses, the timing was right for Monica to say yes.  She met Trent Fairchild on the island of Jamaica after one of the worse earthquakes in years.  Trent is determined to make sure Monica takes care of herself in between caring for patients.  Just how far he's willing to go to meet that goal we'll find out.

     Catherine Bybee never disappoints and she doesn't this time either.  Well written and characters that are relate-able and fun to be involved with make this book outstanding.  Each book in the Not Quite series is a gem on it's own but together they outshine most similar series books.  Contemporary romance at it's very best! You won't go wrong with Catherine Bybee. This is a book to have in your TBR pile.

     I found no issues in this one.

     I gave this one 5 cheers out of 5 because this entire group of people make me wish I were one of them! Way to go Catherine!

Author Showcase: Adrienne Woods

      I was born and raised in South Africa, where I still live with my husband, and two beautiful little girls. 

  I always knew that I was going to be a writer but it only started to happen about four years ago, now I can’t stop writing.

  In my free time, If I get any because Moms don’t really have free time, I love to spend time with friends, if it’s a girls night out, or just a movie, I’m a very chilled person.

    My writing career is starting with Firebolt, book one with the Dragonian Series, there will be four books in total and two to three books that is about the stories taking place inside The Dragonian Series.

     I do write in different Genres, I have a woman’s fiction called the Pregnancy Diaries, but it would be published under another name. And then I have a paranormal series, called the Watercress series. There are about ten novels in that one.

    So, plenty of novels to come out, so little time.

   I hope you are going to embrace the Dragonian Series as much as I loved writing them.

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     A girl singing her heart out about a miracle boomed inside my ear. A miracle would get me what I needed: a chance at a semi-normal life.

     The bedroom door hitting the wall expelled the thought from my mind. With his hand tangled up in his copper hair and with huge brown eyes, Dad's figure filled the entire doorway. “Pack your bags.” He had that set to his jaw, the one that meant there was no way out of this. He bolted out of the room just as suddenly as he had appeared.

     My teeth ground hard against each other, and the sharp pain behind my eyes, I guessed from the lack of sleep, grew stronger. Every fibre of my being wanted to explode.

     Ever since I could remember my name, Dad and I had been on the run. From what? Beats me.                  

     For the last two weeks, I'd been pacing up and down through the house, struggling to fall asleep at night, waiting for this day.

     For the love of blue berries, no sixteen-year old should live this way!              

     I climbed off my bed, and the first step I took left my toe tangled in the wide leg of my jeans.  I tried to regain my balance as the closet inched closer, but with wildly flailing arms, I came crashing down. The thud reverberated across the wooden floor, and it sounded as if I'd broken something.

     Dad darted back into my room. "Are you okay?" He lifted me back onto my feet as if I weighed nothing.

     Tears lurked in the corners of my eyes, threatening to burst, as I stared up at him.

    "Don't give me that look, Elena. Please, we need to hurry.” He pulled my suitcase from the top shelf  and chucked it haphazardly onto my bed. “We need to go. Now.”

    "Dad…"

     He started to grab my clothes from the shelf and tossed them messily inside my small suitcase. Then he paused, sighed, and looked up with soft eyes. He stroked the side of my cheek with his hand gently. “This wasn't the right place, bear. Please, you’ve got to trust me.”

     His hand reached back to pull everything off my shelf, while my hands curled up into balls of fury. My heart pounded fast as those two words bounced inside my skull. “Trust you, Dad?”

     "Elena, we don't have much time,” he yelled. “Pack your bags! You can ask questions later." He left, and the hollow “doof” sound from his footsteps stomped loudly as he made his way into the hall.

     Ask questions? Yeah right! I’ll only get answers that don’t reveal why we are on the run for the gazillionth time.' “Trust me” and “I'll tell you when the time is right” were the only two answers Dad gave. 'Guess time with him will never be right.’

     It was no use arguing with him anyway. The last time, he threw me over his shoulder and carried me out without any of my things.

    So I grabbed the stuff I needed: my mp3 player, a photo of Mom that Dad didn't know I had, and my journal from underneath my bed. I tossed them into my backpack. It wasn't much, but it was the stuff that made my miserable life felt less pathetic. I zipped up my suitcase and took a deep breath. Looking around my bedroom for the last time, I said goodbye to my sixtieth-something room.

     Dad almost ran me over in the hall with his army bag slung over his shoulder. He grumbled, which I assumed was an apology, took my suitcase, and ran down the stairs. He always rented these huge old houses, pre-furnished and near the countryside, and we always left after three months.

     The pickup's horn honked as I shut the front door. I closed my eyes and took another deep breath. Just two more years, then I'll be eighteen and free from this freak show. Huge raindrops fell hard onto the ground. The smell of wet dirt filled the air. It was my favorite smell.

     The water that pooled on the ground covered all the gaps in the driveway, forcing me to hopscotch around all of them. My shoe got caught in one of the gaps and I smacked down hard in a huge puddle. By the time I reached the truck, my jeans and shoes were soaking wet.  Warm heat from the vents inside the truck hit me full blast as I jumped in; a million goose pimples erupted across my skin.  As soon as I shut the rusty door, Dad floored the gas pedal. Tires screeched and the truck spun away as if the Devil chased us.  My lower lip quivered softly as he swerved onto the road. The streetlights flew by in a blur as I plugged in my earpieces. The same stupid song about a miracle boomed from my mp3, drowning the sound of the engine and the hard dribbles on the roof, a percussion that became the perpetual soundtrack to my misery.

       A feeling of utter loneliness consumed my heart as I stared out the window. Homes with white picket fences and the convenient store whizzed by in a flash. A tear rolled down my cheek as I said goodbye, and my breath on the glass created a foggy condensation. Reaching out my index finger, I drew a small heart. These were the reasons why Mom had left. She couldn't handle his paranoia, but why she’d left her daughter to deal with it was a mystery. Dad constantly reminded me of the latter, and that was the only time he ever spoke of her. If he ever discovered I had that picture, he would kill me. That was how much he hated her for leaving us.

     The lights of a vehicle in the upcoming lane shone directly into my face. I shut my eyes, waiting for it to disappear. As a little girl, I used to watch Dad as we drove away from yet another house. He would glare into his rearview mirror every five seconds, every muscle in his face clenched, and his knuckles white on the steering wheel. I hadn’t been able to force myself to peek     out the window then, as it used to scare the living crap out of me to consider the possible reasons he was fleeing from, or who might be following us. Now, I didn't look at him or care much for what he was going through. He created this problem. With me becoming the luggage. It was a ritual I endured every three months, and nothing over the past sixteen years had ever changed that.

     The “Interstate 40” sign flew by in a whirl, and the pickup slowly moved onto the turnoff lane.

     My eyes started to burn as I stared at the rain running down my window. Each rivet resembled another town, another place I would never again call home. Exhaustion consumed me and my eyelids felt heavy. I laid my head against the window and struggled to stay awake.

     Suddenly, a dark and huge figure flew past me. Dad swerved to the left, which made me crushed into the side of the passenger’s door. My entire body pumped with adrenaline. I jumped straight in my seat and wrenched the seatbelt over my shoulder to buckle myself in. I tore out my earpieces as I tried to process what had just happened.

           “What was that?” I looked at Dad.

He stared straight ahead with huge eyes. Beads of sweat rolled from his hairline down to the side of his temple. He looked terrified, something that conflicted with his personality. I'd never seen Dad look that scared in my entire life.

     “Dad!”

     “Did you see where it went?” he asked, attempting to inject calm into his voice, but I could hear the fear lacing each syllable.

     “See where what went? Dad what was that!”

     “You wouldn't believe me if I told you.”

     “For once in your life, just tell me!” I screamed. Sixteen years of frustration exploded from my lungs. I couldn't take the unknown anymore.

    “Fine.” He mumbled something else that I didn't catch. "Do you remember the stories I used to tell you?"

    “Stories? What stories?”

    “The ones about Paegeia, Elena.” He looked in his rearview mirror again with huge, unblinking eyes.

     Vaguely, but I didn't tell him that. "What does that have to do with this?"

     “They're real.”

      I froze and I stared at him.

      “All of it, it’s real. The dragons, the magic, the wall, everything is real.”

A Higher Voice by Sheri Wren Haymore

      Britt Jordan wasn't sure what was wrong or how to stop it. He did know he felt out of control. He felt lost and unsure.  Then he met Dena Martin.  Her smile stunned him.  Her laughter was music like he'd never heard before.  All Britt knew for sure after meeting Dena was that he never wanted to let her go.  Their biggest problems came from Britt's rock star lifestyle.  How would their lives meld? Neither was sure but they couldn't wait to begin that life together. 

     Romance. Tenderness. Devotion. Each of these words describe what happens in this book.  Ms Haymore did a superb job of writing this book.  The characters are wonderfully full and rich.  If you can only buy one book this month... Buy this one!! It will take you places you can only imagine and you'll believe in happy endings again.  Thank you Ms Haymore for giving us a book we can read again and again and never tire of. In the spirit of such books as Gone With the Wind and Sense and Sensibility, this book is timeless. 

     I found no issues in this one.

     I gave this one 5 + cheers out of 5 cheers because I never dreamed such devotion existed any more. 

Gathering Storm by Jess Parry

     Siobhan, Jason and Sarah were the three musketeers. They'd been friends forever.  The summer before their senior year of high school, their parents all got together and sent them away for a month's holiday.  The three of them in Ireland for a month! They were so excited. Strange things began happening almost as soon as they touched down.  Magick seems to be everywhere and none of them realize it.  They meet Shawn and he introduces them to his grandmother. She tells them of the curse.

     Well written and full of surprises, this book is one you will enjoy over and over.  The characters are likable  and fun.  Who knew a name could hold so much history?  Ms Parry did a wonderful job with this book and I encourage you to check it out.

     I did find it difficult to read in spots but it was minimal.

     I gave this one 4 out of 5 cheers just because it's not my cup of tea. 

Dolls Behaving Badly by Cinthia Ritchie

     Carly decides to keep a diary at the suggestion of an Oprah Giant.   She's confused about her life and trying to get things back on track.  Carly is an artist, a waitress and a doll maker.  The last two help pay the bills.  While dealing with her own problems, Carly is also everyone else's go to woman. If they need advice, a shoulder or help, she's there.  If it seems confusing to you, imagine what Carly's going through.

     A fantastic look at the life of a divorced mother of one.  The issues, the daily stuff she has to deal with and her own fears keep her off balance until the end.  Well written and relateable characters make this an enjoyable read.  Through laughter and tears you'll see Carly fight to straighten out her life.  

     I didn't find any issues.

    I gave this one 5 cheers out of 5 because of the wonderful homey recipes included.

Author Showcase: Sheri Wren

  Sheri Haymore grew up in Mt. Airy, NC and lives
thereabouts with her husband. Together they run a
couple of small businesses and are always dreaming
up their next vacation. A graduate of High Point University,
she settled into her first job as a writer at a
marketing firm and she’s been scribbling ever since.
If an adult ever says they don’t know what they’re supposed to do with their life, I tell
them to think back to when they were ten years old. What did they want to do then?
Hidden within that desire is their life’s purpose.
When I was ten, I would write new episodes of Bonanza. I could put Little Joe Cartwright
into all sorts of predicaments more interesting, in my mind, than those television writers
could do. In High School, I co-edited the school paper; in college, I learned the elements
of a good story from John Foster West at Appalachian State University. From there I
transferred to High Point College (now University) and immersed myself in great world
literature. I even taught creative writing, once, at GTCC. That didn’t work out too well
because my students were more interested in the CREATIVE part while I was determined
to emphasize WRITING.
I’ve been a writer for a marketing firm; I’ve written procedure manuals for the sewing industry.
As a matter of fact, my second job out of college was in the Engineering department for
a garment manufacturer, back in the day when sewing was big industry in Mt. Airy. Believe
it or not, I got that job, not because I graduated seventh in my class from High Point, nor
because of my great business wisdom. No, I got it because I was the first college graduate
they had ever seen who could take shorthand and type 120 wpm. I’ve written song lyrics
for our church choir. Original Bible studies for ladies. Reams of advertising copy for our
businesses. Websites. Blogs. Even a screenplay, loosely based on the same characters who
found their home in A Higher Voice, which was so terrible I think I burned it.
In short, I’ve never stopped writing since I was ten.
In the late nineties, I wrote a suspense novel, which now is titled A Deeper Cut. I had it
professionally edited and went through the wrenching process of finding an agent. Even
with an agent, the novel didn’t sell. And so, while I was working on A Higher Voice, which
I lovingly call my period of insanity, I would darn near have a panic attack every time I
would think about going through the process of finding an agent and probably not finding
a publisher. And yet I was determined to finish it, whether I did anything with it or not.
Wisdom House Books
www.wisdomhousebooks.com • 919-883-4669 • Clara@wisdomhousebooks.com
I sent the manuscript over to local author Jane Tesh. She didn’t tell me, as I was afraid she
might, that it didn’t have a plot. What she said was, “You’ve got too many adverbs and too
many named characters. You’ve got point of view shifts . . .” (How could I have missed that!
I taught writing, for crying out loud!) “. . . and the ending isn’t satisfying.”
Well there you go. I cut out adverbs and characters, shifted my POV (mostly), and had
another go at the ending. TA-DA! Now what? Traditional publishing made me panic.
Publishing independently made me confused, but peaceful. And so I found Ted Ruybal at
Wisdom House Books, and a few thousand words of editing later, we have what I think is a
respectable novel.
So why did I write these two novels? First of all, the story begins with the characters, for me.
These characters walk around in my head a while, and they begin to tell me their stories.
As the story progresses, I more and more hear the way they would speak, understand the
way they would think. One thing grows out of another. For example, I didn’t intentionally
introduce the concept of accountability in A Higher Voice. After writing the story, I realized,
hey, this guy has instinctively made himself accountable to his wife in subtle ways. And so I
played with that a little, and brought it out in ways that make the concept obvious.
Beyond the characters and my desire to tell a good story, however, I wanted to tell a story
that has meaning. And not in the “shove-it-down-your-neck, you have to believe what I
believe” kind of way. In A Higher Voice, we explore the universal concepts of hope, gratitude,
forgiveness. And we raise the question of whether there is somebody bigger than us, and if
so, does that somebody care enough, as the story says, “to hang with you even when you’re
beaten?” Might there be a Higher Voice and a larger purpose to life? I leave the answer up
to the reader’s interpretation.
Why will I continue to write? I’ll tell a story to explain. I was sitting beside my daughter on
an airplane while she was reading A Higher Voice for the first time. She closed the book and
said, “Sixty more pages.” Assuming she was tired of reading, I jokingly asked, “Are you going
to miss Britt and Dena?” Her answer surprised and gratified me. She said, “I don’t want to
leave their world.”
Isn’t that why books continue to be written and readers continue to read? We get to enter a
world that feels real, with characters who speak to our hearts, and we don’t want to leave.

www.sheriwrenhaymore.com

Legendary rock singer Britt Jordan is at the pinnacle of his career—at least as far as

the world knows. But Britt’s voice is failing and a terrible event in his past haunts

him every moment. He thinks that his life is a hopeless shipwreck . . . until the

night he is stopped dead in his tracks by a woman’ s smile.

With the same determination that propelled him to stardom, he begins to create a new

life with Dena and her daughter, Bonnie. Britt’s presence in Dena’s life brings more

than paparazzi, however. His baggage includes a brother who wants to destroy him and

a stalker intent on killing his wife. Willing to sacrifice any price to save his family, he

finally must find a higher plane on which to face his past and hi s future.

Please stop back for the review of this book!

If You Were Me and Lived In Norway by Carole P. Roman

     The land of the midnight sun. The Kirkenes Snow hotel. Syttend Mai Day.  There is so much more included in this terrific book for young ones. 

    This is another beautiful book to use as a teaching tool. The pronunciation page is awesome! Helping young ones to learn more about their world and the people in it. Carole P. Roman is a master at producing fun and educational materials.

     I found no issues.

    I gave this one 5 cheers out of 5 because our young ones can't have enough good material in their library.