Showing posts with label guest post. Show all posts
Showing posts with label guest post. Show all posts

Monday, January 14, 2019

"Moon Games" by Shelly Frome

Moon Games
by Shelly Frome

Moon Games by Shelly Frome

Moon Games by Shelly Frome is currently on tour with Great Escapes Virtual Book Tours. The tour stops here today for a guest post, an excerpt, and a giveaway. Please be sure to visit the other tour stops as well.

For more books by this author, please check out my blog post on Murder Run and my blog post on The Secluded Village Murders.

At the outset, Miranda Davis has nothing much going for her. The tourists are long gone by October in the quaint Carolina town of Black Mountain, her realty business is at a standstill, and her weekend stint managing the local tavern offers little to pull her out of the doldrums. When prominent church lady Cloris Raintree offers a stipend to look into the whereabouts of a missing girl hiker on the Q.T, Miranda, along with her partner Harry (an unemployed features writer) agree.
But then it all backfires. A burly figure shambles down a mountain slope with a semi-conscious girl draped over his shoulder. Miranda’s attempts to uncover Cloris Raintree’s true motives become near impossible as she puts up one smokescreen after another, including a slip of the tongue regarding an incident in Havana. The local police keep stonewalling and Harry is of little help.
Tarot cards left on Cloris’ doorstep and arcane prompts on her e-mail only exacerbate the situation. Growing more desperate over the captive girl’s fate, Miranda comes across a link to a cold case of arson and murder. With the advent of the dark of the moon, she is summoned to “Tower Time” as this twisty tale continues to run its course.

Bracing herself, Miranda hurried down the hall of the retirement complex, located Cloris Raintree’s quarters, ran her fingers through her short, floppy do, adjusted her blouse and bib overalls, and knocked.
She heard a faint “The door is open,” assumed time was still of the essence and barged in.
She took in the confines of the prescribed living space, a divan behind an antique coffee table, and an heirloom silver tea service with all the trimmings. At the same time, in marked contrast to herself, she noted the carefully coiffed do, high cheekbones, slender form and those cool blue eyes that kept reminding Miranda of women who always held sway since grade school. Cloris’s spiffy heather-green tailored pants suit and matching accessories only heightened the impression. Once again, Miranda was in the presence of an affluent pillar of the Montreat community with a lineage that went back to recorded memory.
“Well,” said Cloris, in that flinty, impatient voice of hers, still doing her level best to cover up the fact she was a sixty-year-old woman with a nervous condition. Younger than the other residents, but the nightmares she’d confided she’d been having were taking their toll.
Given the tacit understanding Miranda would have to continue being on her best behavior and keep pussyfooting around, she said, “Okay, I’m ready to be told what’s so important I had to drop everything.”
“Indeed,” Cloris countered, hanging on tight to an air of crisp, imperviousness. “Did you bring a map as I asked? As a realtor, I daresay you are apprised of every inch of this area.”
Reaching into the pocket of her overalls, Miranda whipped out a local map and laid it out on the coffee table so that Cloris could peruse it. “You bet. Here you go.”
“What I was given to believe . . . That is, it has been brought to my attention that a distraught, freshman girl student took it upon herself to go off on a hike as part of some independent, outward bound program.”
“Uh-huh. So, tell me, is she lost, is that it? And if so, where was she spotted last?” While politely keeping her distance, Miranda moved over to Cloris’s side.
“Precisely.” Bristling, then pulling back, Cloris modulated her tone. “In my view, with a cold front fast approaching, and given the fact she was recently seen heading back this way . . . past some old railroad trestle as I recall, on the way to Ridgecrest, and with twilight coming on in the next hour or so . . .”
Jumping in, Miranda took over, pointing things out regardless of any thoughts of propriety. “In that case, if she keeps going, she could eventually be intercepted by the old train depot here. Or, if she is so miffed and standoffish, she’d keep right on going on her way to Sunset. All tired out but jaunting higher till she finally reached the hiker’s shack up at Grey Eagle Crest where she could hole up for the night. Seeing that she’s a freshman and a probable out-of-towner, she must have been told about it as a shelter on her return hike.”
Getting nothing from Cloris except more impatient looks, and trying to lighten things up, Miranda said, “‘Come in, she said, I’ll give you shelter from the storm.’ ”
“I beg your pardon?” said Cloris, folding up the map and handing it back.
“Nothing. Just an old Bob Dylan song.”
“While the clock is ticking away? You think there’s time for this?”
“Sorry,” said Miranda, pocketing the map. She reminded herself that on this dull Monday she had nothing else going for her in the throes of the realty down- market in this sleepy Blue Ridge mountain town, especially with the tourist trade on hiatus this late in October. Plus, an exclusive on the old Raintree mansion was in the bag and this little escapade counts as an extra perk, assuming there would be some more coin to help tide her over.
She moved back to her position by the front door and tried again to lighten things up. “Look, this could be a lot simpler than you’re making it. Maybe, by now, the girl’s gotten this all out of her system and is a lot more amenable.”
Rising up, Cloris said, “I’ll have you know, it’s also been suggested that someone may be in pursuit. She may be in danger from more than an impending storm.”
“Imminent, you mean?”
“Is there any other kind?”
“Yeah, I guess under the circumstances, you never know.”
Miranda started to go and then turned back. “By the way. You never told me why you’re so involved.”
“How can you ask? As a deacon of the church who devoted a life coming to the aid of troubled and unfortunate creatures, don’t you think it is my Christian duty? And on top of that . . .”
“On top of that? You mean there’s more?”
Holding stock still and then suddenly retreating, Cloris hurried into an adjacent room, returned with what looked like a playing card and slapped it on the coffee table. “This was slipped under my door. Probably, to hazard a guess, sometime very early when they make the deliveries.”
Miranda went over, flipped it and saw that it was some kind of tarot card.
“Take it, discard it,” Cloris said, raising her voice. “Get it out of my sight!”
“But shouldn’t you notify the police?”
“Wonderful. Have the police come by and ask all kinds of questions. Set the gossip biddies around here spreading all kinds of rumors. Aspersions on my character, my condition, and the Raintree name. Take it away and let’s hear no more about it.”
“Sure, if you say so.”
“I do indeed. You are sworn to secrecy, Miranda Davis. Given your solemn word that my role in any of our dealings is strictly between the two of us.”
“Whatever. Yes, ma’am.”
Unable to take another withering glance from Cloris, Miranda pocketed the card and said, “Just wondering, that’s all. Just keeping tabs on things. Okay, I’m off, you’ll be hearing from me.”
Despite her misgivings, Miranda slipped out and retraced her steps down the hall. Trying to come to terms with the gambit she’d have to take, she reminded herself she couldn’t be at two places at once. Couldn’t fulfill her part-time obligation managing the Tavern and play hide-and-seek looking for an unsociable, meandering girl. And since she’d wangled a house-sitting stint for Harry, her sometimes partner, and since that cottage was close to the hikers’ shack if the girl managed to get that far . . . Yes, absolutely. It wouldn’t kill him to get here early. The simple solution was to hand the ball over.
Moving along to the car park, she’d almost convinced herself it was all a lot of fuss over nothing. Going to be a piece of cake.
But she couldn’t help wondering what was underneath Cloris’ church lady façade? What was really going on? And why anyone might be tailing this particular college student?
[Want more? Click below to read a longer excerpt.]

Praise for the Book
Moon Games can only be described as a dramatic, thrilling and exciting novel that will keep readers entertained, captivated and engrossed from the very first page. Mystery stories are currently my go-to read so when I read the description of Moon Games I knew that I had to read it as well as review it so that all you lovely readers could learn about it. Never before have I been so captivated by a mystery novel and this is thanks to the exceptional author Shelly Frome and his talented literature and so, if you are a reader who loves mystery and suspense reads then you will adore this adventure as it is stellar!” ~ Aimee Ann
“Frome creates a series of colorful characters who are drawn into this quest, most against their wills, but who, never-the-less, contribute their own special talents to what would ultimately prove to be a race to the finish, with more hairpin turns along the way than the drive along the Amalfi Coast. The famous “Malecon” drive along Havana’s Atlantic shore even plays an important role in the ultimate outcome of this complicated, yet gripping tale of revenge, regret, and greed, with a dash of the Zodiac (thus the Moon) thrown in for good measure.” ~ R. V. Helms
“Since I live in the town where this tale is set, I found it immensely fun to read. I also liked the strong female lead character, Miranda. She never gave up, despite set backs and people who were slow to believe her hunches and evidence. Good read!” ~ Ashley

Guest Post by the Author
Inklings of a Cultural Change
When I first came to Black Mountain from Connecticut a very few years ago, I had no idea what I was in for. At a stopover in Asheville, I was standing on the sidewalk, waiting for my Suburu station wagon to come careening around the bend from the parking garage of the Haywod Park Hotel. Presently, a matronly woman accosted me and said, “Are you lost, boy?” Slipping into my old actor’s ways by habit, picking up on regional accents, I said, “No, ma’am, I’m just waitin’ on my car, fixin’ to go to a potluck supper.” She countered with, “Boy, you can’t go to no potluck lest you brang somethin’.” I told her I was advised that a six-packet of good wine would be appreciated, and I happened to have one in the tote bag I was carrying. She hesitated, pondered for a while, then patted me on the shoulder. “Well, I reckon that’s all right then,” she said. “You go right ahead.”
As another example, when I moved into my new home with my golden/doodle Baxter, one Sunday morning the next thing I knew, an elderly gentleman across the street stopped me before I could get into the driver’s side of my car and said, “Shelly, I don’t know where you’re going this Sunday morning, but you appear to be not getting any younger. And there is only one path to eternity. And that’s the first Baptist Church. Not the other ones. Not the Independent, the Free Will or the Full Gospel but the biggest. The First.” And I said, “Don, Baxter and I were just trying to find our way to the Ingels Super Market. That’s as far as I was intending to go. There’s no food in the house.”
Needless to say, the more people I encountered, the more I began to appreciate the fact that every region had a distinct ambiance. And the garrulous folks in Western Carolina are much different than the cool, almost wary approach to strangers I was used to back in the Litchfield Hills. Those New Englanders had to get to know you first and, even then, were apt to keep anything too personal, let alone emotional, from creeping into any exchange. And so, the folks of Black Mountain and their ways began to creep into a novel that was forming in the back of my mind.

Shelly Frome
Shelly Frome is a member of Mystery Writers of America, a professor of dramatic arts emeritus at the University of Connecticut, a former professional actor, a writer of crime novels and books on theater and film. He is also a features writer for Gannett Media’s Black Mountain News. His fiction includes Sun Dance for Andy Horn, Lilac Moon, Twilight of the Drifter, Tinseltown Riff, Murder Run, and The Secluded Village Murders. Among his works of non-fiction are The Actors Studio and texts on The Art and Craft of Screenwriting and writing for the stage. Moon Games is his latest foray into the world of crime and the amateur sleuth. He lives in Black Mountain, North Carolina.

Enter the tour-wide giveaway for a chance to win one of three print copies of Moon Games by Shelly Frome (US only).


Wednesday, December 19, 2018

"Scream Muddy Murder" by Lesley A. Diehl

Scream Muddy Murder
(Big Lake Murder Mysteries Book 3)
by Lesley A. Diehl

Scream Muddy Murder (Big Lake Murder Mysteries Book 3) by Lesley A. Diehl

Scream Muddy Murder is the third book in the Big Lake Murder Mysteries series by Lesley A. Diehl. Also available: Dumpster Dying and Grilled, Chilled and Killed.

Dumpster Dying by Lesley A. DiehlGrilled, Chilled and Killed by Lesley A. Diehl

Scream Muddy Murder is currently on tour with Great Escapes Virtual Book Tours. The tour stops here today for a guest post by the author, an excerpt, and a giveaway. Please be sure to visit the other tour stops as well.

More books by this author: Old Bones Never Die (read my blog post) and Killer Tied (read my blog post).

Emily Rhodes does it again! This time she nosedives into a mud puddle at a Seminole War battle reenactment and finds she’s sharing the muck with a dead body. As usual the hunky detective she loves to aggravate, Stanton Lewis, cautions her against getting involved in the case, and as usual she ignores him. Emily’s sleuthing pays off, revealing disturbing information about the victim’s past. Is it the reason behind his murder? With the help of her family and friends, Emily sets out to uncover secrets kept too long and puts herself and the people she loves in the killer’s path. Too late she realizes Detective Lewis was right. Her snoopiness proves to be a deadly idea.

THE RAIN POURED down on the combatants as they took up their stances on opposite ends of the field. One side stationed their men behind the palm trees and live oaks, while the fighters on the other side positioned themselves out in the open, preparing to march straight at the enemy—a foolish strategy, but insisted upon by their commander.
Emily pushed wet locks of hair off her face and prepared to advance with the first wave of troops. She held no weapon for defense; her assignment was to beat her snare drum. She grasped her drumsticks tightly for fear she’d drop one and would be unable to beat out the martial tempo she’d been assigned. Emily’s daughter, Naomi, holding the American flag, stood beside her, the two of them dressed as boys from the early nineteenth century, shirts with long, full sleeves and knee britches. Naomi had been smart to tie her blond hair back with a leather thong. Their only concession to modern dress was that each wore a pair of rubber boots. Naomi’s sported a yellow duck pattern, Emily’s were a nautical blue with a thin red stripe around the top.
“How did we get ourselves into this mess?” asked Emily, attempting to lift one foot out of the mud. Her boot made a sucking sound. “This is as bad as quicksand.”
“It was your idea to take part,” replied Naomi. “You said it would be fun and a service to the community.”
“It would have been fun if it hadn’t been raining for three days. The field was so flooded the organizers cancelled yesterday’s performance. It’s not much better today.”
A shot rang out signaling the start of the reenactment of the Battle of Okeechobee, an event held each year at the site of the original battle fought in 1837, a military engagement in the Second Seminole War. Emily started at the sound of the gun and stumbled forward, almost falling to her knees. Naomi reached out and steadied her mother. The announcer thumped the microphone to determine if it was working. It gave forth a screech and again startled Emily, but this time she held her position. With a clearing of his throat and another squeal from the loud speaker, the announcer began his account of the military tactics used by the soldiers of the United States commanded by General Zachary Taylor and the Seminoles led by their chief, Alligator, often called Billy Bowlegs.
“Maybe all this water will shortcircuit the loudspeaker, and they’ll call off the event. We could get electrocuted, you know,” Emily said, but began marching, careful to avoid yet another hole in the soggy ground. She took up a steady drumbeat. The two women staggered forward, the thick mud making their advancement slow and difficult.
“Having trouble keeping up?” asked the tall man in front of Emily, slowing his pace and turning back to address her. How he managed to look dry and comfortable in all this rain was beyond Emily, but she always found Detective Stanton Lewis the other side of comprehensible in her mind. He was a member of the local police department, and the man who had arrested Emily for murder on one occasion, and on another, kissed her with passion.
“If I’d have known he’d be volunteering for this event, I would have stayed home,” Emily said.
“I heard that,” replied Lewis, “and I know you don’t mean it.”
Maybe she did and maybe she didn’t. Emily could never tell how she felt about Stanton Lewis. It seemed that whenever they got together two things happened: first there was the verbal battling, and then there was the warmth she felt somewhere south of her waist. He was about the handsomest man she’d ever met, and the most annoying. It seemed he knew the effect he had on her, and he loved to aggravate her by standing too close or smiling that annoying smile with his full, very kissable, lips.
[Want more? Click below to read a longer excerpt.]

Praise for the Book
“In the mood for a protagonist who just won't quit? Who won't let obstacles and naysayers dissuade her from her self-appointed rounds? Who has a strength of character and will power we might all emulate? I give you Emily Rhodes, the feisty and strongly self-determined heroine of Lesley A. Diehl's Big Lake Murder Mysteries. […] Scream Bloody Murder is compelling and heartwrenching, with never a dull moment throughout.” ~ Mallory A. Haws: The Haunted Reading Room Reviews
“This is a great read, with a suspenseful plot and a bit of romance thrown in. Diehl gives her readers a multi-layered plot. […] Of course to have a great book, you need great characters as well. This book, like the previous books, are packed with memorable characters. One reason I love reading a series is with each book, I get to know more about the main characters and even some secondary ones, and this book does just that. […] If you are looking for a great mystery, with great characters, and just the right of romance thrown in, you can’t go wrong with this book, and the whole series!” ~ Christie72
“Everyone seems to know more than they are saying and nobody is willing to spill the beans. Fun characters from previous books return to make things crazier. The tension and relationship between Emily Rhodes and Detective Lewis get more muddied than ever. Who enjoys aggravating the other more? […] Nonstop action as the danger mounts. Emily swears she is not going out of her way to interfere in an investigation. This is my favorite book of the series so far.” ~ Laura S Reading

Guest Post by the Author
Writing in the Swamps
Scream Muddy Murder is a cozy mystery, or at least I think it is. The protagonist, Emily Rhodes, is a reluctant amateur sleuth, the kind of snoopy gal one would expect in the cozy genre. She was a preschool teacher until she retired but finding herself strapped for living expenses because her life partner died and left nothing to her, Emily decided she needed to update her skills. Her good friend and next-door neighbor was impressed with Emily’s mixology skills, so Emily enrolled in a mixology course and found herself seeking employment as a bartender in rural Florida, in a town whose bars catered to country dancing, cowboys, cold beers, giant steaks, and barbecue. Could Emily handle enthusiastic cowboys who had had too much to drink? Apparently not because she lost her first job and would have had to find another post retirement career if the manager of the restaurant and bar at the local country club hadn’t hired her to tend bar there. It was a perfect match for Emily who knew many of the golfers. The patrons tended to be older and the bar catered to an early crowd.
Bartender is not the usual profession found in cozy mysteries, but it’s a perfect blend of the traditional with the unusual and provides the reader with a one-of-a-kind protagonist in a cozy mystery. Let’s say Emily’s profession squeaks in under the cozy guidelines.
But what about the setting for the book? The community isn’t a typical cozy mystery village, but a farming and ranching community set on the edge of the largest fresh water lake in Florida. The swampland of south-central Florida as well as southern prairies creates an environment that is beautiful but somewhat deadly. Think large reptiles, I mean really big reptiles and swamps, lots of swamps. It’s not what we usually view as a “cozy” cozy setting.
Because of the large influx of winter visitors who come during the season to fish the lake, the setting has some advantages for a cozy mystery. It avoids the Cabot Cove problem of small village and too many murders wiping out the meager population. Outsiders provide both suspects and victims, and because the area includes wide flung ranches and farms that often employ migrant workers, an element of international intrigue works here also. Not far from the town nearer to the West Palm polo farms breed and raise horses for polo matches drawing hundreds of competitors and attendees. The community may be small and rural, but the surrounding areas attract people from Europe, Central America and South America. Emily quickly realizes that as isolated as the community feels at first, it is connected to the flashier life of the coast and international intrigue.
Regardless of how I have extended Emily’s life beyond the village to a wider community, I have tried to maintain the feeling of intimacy with the people Emily encounters. There are the folks in the retirement village she lives in, the people she meets at the country club and the locals who have lived in the town for years, sometimes generations. This latter group is most important in providing Emily and the reader with the flavor of the rural south Florida. Donald Green, the bartender she hires to work at the country club with her, fishes the lake in his flashy and fast bass boat, allowing Emily to learn about bass fishing. Winning fishing tournaments is more important Donald than bartending and he lets Emily know this at every turn. If the day dawns sunny, but Donald is scheduled to work at the bar, Emily is likely to find herself without a bartender as Donald takes off for the lake.
Fishing the lake is an everyday backdrop for the series, but special events make the setting unique. Everyone in the area loves barbecue and barbecue contests. What better place to locate a dead body but in a beer cooler truck at the local barbecue cook-off. Emily did just that in Grilled, Chilled and Killed. In Scream Muddy Murder, I bring the history of the area into play by opening the book at the annual Battle of Okeechobee, a re-enactment of a famous Seminole War battle which took place in the 1830s. It is the perfect place for Emily to find her third dead body. Lucky gal. Now she has another case to solve. As with all Emily’s snooping, the man who adores her, Detective Stanton Lewis, will find her interference aggravating. That’s perfect, too. What better an element in a cozy mystery than a little romance?
So, of course, I have written a cozy mystery. Ignore the alligators and swamps. They’re just there for atmosphere to get the reader in the mood for a little rural Florida spin on the genre. No alligators, cattle, cowboys or other innocent characters were harmed in the writing of these books, only a couple of bad folks brought to justice.

About the Author
Lesley A. Diehl
Lesley retired from her life as a professor of psychology and reclaimed her country roots by moving to a small cottage in the Butternut River Valley in Upstate New York. In the winter she migrates to old Florida - cowboys, scrub palmetto, and open fields of grazing cattle, a place where spurs still jingle in the post office, and gators make golf a contact sport. Back north, the shy ghost inhabiting the cottage serves as her literary muse. When not writing, she gardens, cooks and renovates the 1874 cottage with the help of her husband, two cats and, of course, Fred the ghost, who gives artistic direction to their work. She’s presently interviewing for a coyote to serve as her muse for her books and stories set in rural Florida.

Enter our exclusive giveaway for a chance to have your name used in a future book OR to win an ebook copy of Scream Muddy Murder by Lesley A. Diehl (US only).


Friday, December 14, 2018

"The Songs That Brought Me Back" by Mylissa Demeyere

The Songs That Brought Me Back
(The Songs Series Book 2)
by Mylissa Demeyere

The Songs That Brought Me Back (The Songs Series Book 2) by Mylissa Demeyere

The Songs That Brought Me Back is the second book in The Songs Series by Mylissa Demeyere. You can read an excerpt from the book and a guest post by the author. You can also enter the giveaway. My full review is coming soon. Also available in this series: The Songs of You and Me (read my blog post).

The Songs of You and Me by Mylissa Demeyere

This book tour is hosted by I Am A Reader.

Have you ever made a mistake? One so monumental you lost everything? I did, and I hate myself for it! All I want to do is close my eyes, and let the darkness consume me. Make it all go away. The end.
Ainsley is drowning in the depth of her despair. One wrong decision left her alone, with only regret as her constant companion. To escape it all, she makes another choice. One she hopes will end everything. Instead, she’s thrown into a whole new world filled with opportunities she doesn’t believe she deserves.
Ethan gives the appearance of breezing through life. But underneath his bright facade, he’s scarred by loss. When fate leads him into Ainsley’s world at the exact moment she needs someone the most, he can’t ignore the chance to right the wrongs of his past.
Ainsley and Ethan will struggle to help each other heal and start anew.
They’ll learn that the secret to conquering their pain lies within their power, if only they can do it together.
Always together.
Sometimes the ending is really the beginning.

Book Video

Beep… Beep…
Floating…I was floating. My body…weightless. For the first time in almost three years, the constant pain that had been pushing on me, threatening to suffocate me…lifted and was gone.
I felt…free.
Beep… Beep…
Finally, I was done and untied, drifting in this place that no longer held me in its terrible grip.
Beep… Beep…
I hovered near the edge, staring down at that empty shell as the doctor and nurses fought to save me. The scene should have sent more anguish through me. The ripped clothes, the chaos, but all I felt was peace.
The body left behind looked like me, but it wasn’t, not really. It hadn’t been me for so long. I had lost myself in that person ages ago.
Something tugged at me, pulling me down, away from the peacefulness I felt and back toward that cold, empty body. My prison. I grasped out around me but only caught handfuls of air. Nothing to hold on to. The pull got stronger. Dread washed over me as I realized what was happening.
I had to go back.
“Push a dose of ketamine, now!”
The weightlessness was out of reach, leaving me confused and exhausted. A new, heavy sensation pushed down on me.
No! I screamed, but no noise left my mouth. Even as the weight of my body and my illness pressed down on me, I longed for the weightlessness I’d felt, the brief glimpse of freedom. I wanted it back.
“Give me a laryngoscope.”
A sharp pain coursed through me, down my mouth, into my throat.
I tried to raise my hand, trying to yank whatever was there away. But it wouldn’t move. The weight was pushing on my hand as well.
No! I screamed again, but no one heard me. It was pointless.
I’m in. Tube her.”
Finally, I surrendered to the darkness as it closed in, and everything went completely black.
[Want more? Click below to read a longer excerpt.]

Praise for the Book
“A heartfelt romance with a powerful message about the sanctity of human life. If you’ve ever simply needed a friend, The Songs That Brought Me Back will resonate – and leave you thankful for the people in your life.” ~ Taylor Dean, author of I’m With You and Chasing Fireflies
“Another remarkable read by Mylissa Demeyere. Ethan and Ainsley had me laughing and crying as they face their own demons and fall in love while doing it. This book adds even more depth as it confronts suicide head on. Suicide has become an epidemic that some are afraid to address; Demeyere brings it to light from both the victims and the survivors giving us insight on the struggles of so many. It does not disappoint and I, again, am excited to see what comes next from this talented writer.” ~ Amazon Reviewer
“A beautiful sequel to The Songs of You and Me that cleverly illustrates that there are always two sides to every story and that it is never too late for love to overcome any challenge.” ~ Amazon Reviewer
“This poignant redemption story about second chances and forgiveness yanked my emotions all over the place. I cried, I yearned, I hoped. A beautiful story about what true love is and does.” ~ Charissa Stastny, author of Between Hope and the Highway and The Ruled Out Romance Series

My Review
I received this book in return for an honest review.

I really wanted to read The Songs of You and Me first, and I’m glad I did! However, that put me behind for reading this book, so I’m not quite finished. But I’m really enjoying it and will post my full review soon.


Guest Post by the Author
Why I Wrote Ainsley’s Story
Did you know that every forty seconds 1 person dies due to suicide? That’s close to 800,000 worldwide, each year. There are indications that for each adult who dies of suicide there may have been more than 20 others attempting suicide. That’s an estimate of 16,000,000 attempted suicides worldwide amongst adults. (Source: The World Health Organization).
Five days shy of my sixteenth birthday, my father’s body was found after he had killed himself. Needless to say, it wasn’t the sweet sixteen it could have been.
That event had quite an impact on my life and how I decided to face the challenges I meet.
When I wrote The Songs of You and Me, I delved into Jackson’s past. He got to tell his side of how Ainsley’s choices affected him. I never felt I could leave her tale untold. Each story always has at least two sides to it.
Why does a person make such horrible choices as Ainsley did? What drives them to such selfishness? And does a person like Ainsley have it in her to redeem herself?
My dad made the choice not to fight and right the wrongs in his life. It not only ended his life; it impacted many other lives.
Ainsley’s story is my way of showing you what can happen when people who make mistakes decide to try and do better. Because everyone deserves a second chance to right the wrong and start over again.
This is Ainsley’s story of what happens when you choose to not give up.
I hope that whomever reads this, will realize that we all, at one point in our life need and deserve second chances. When we take those chances, and turn our lives around, miracles can happen. I have seen it firsthand and the stories that follow are beautiful. Not perfect, but definitely worth living.
Even when life seems dark, lost, and like there is no other way than ending it, there is ALWAYS another option.
To everyone who has ever felt like there was never another way, this story is for you. My dad didn’t take the other way, but I hope you will find help. Life isn’t always perfect, but it is a wonderful gift. Definitely worth fighting for.

About the Author
Mylissa Demeyere was born in Belgium and resides in the beautiful city of Ghent. She lives in a somewhat organized home with her four beautiful children and the love of her life. If she isn’t working, she’s writing, running, reading, or enjoying time with her kids, who are growing up way too fast.
The Songs That Brought Me Back is the sequel to The Songs of You and Me, with third book releasing in the middle of 2019.

Enter the blast-wide giveaway for a chance to win a $25 Amazon gift card or PayPal cash.