Readers' Favorite

May 4, 2013

Recommended Reading for Mental Health Awareness Month

May is Mental Health Awareness Month. Mental illness is wide spread and can affect anyone. However, mental illness is often untreated whether due to the stigma of seeking treatment or the lack of treatment availability. There are people who are hurting and you and I can no longer ignore the need for help.

Over the years, I have read a number of novels that focus on mental illness. Here just a sampling.

As you can see from the photo of my copy, it was read a LOT. This book was probably the first hardcore mental illness tale I read. Before that I had read ones that had depressed/suicidal teens. I Never Promised You a Rose Garden is full immersion into the world of mental illness. The main character, Deborah, is institutionalize for her mental illness. The copyright on the book: 1964. Mental heath treatment was still in its infancy. I don't think they ever actually give a diagnosis for Deborah's illness, but if I had to guess I would think schizophrenia.

Get the book at Amazon! I also just noticed it was made into a movie.

Old Wounds series by NK Smith

Old Wounds is the first book in a four book series dealing with post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). I read an early draft of the entire story and the first book in the series when it was published. You can read my full review here

Get the series at Amazon:

THR3E by Ted Dekker

A psychological thriller that will keep you guessing. I would tell you what mental illness is featured, but that would give away too much of the plot. I'm afraid I might have given away too much already.

Buy the book at Amazon.

Change of Season by AC Dillon

A dark tale that is a mix of mental illness and urban legend. Autumn is dealing with more than just PTSD. Read my full review here

Pick up your copy at Amazon.

Playing the Genetic Lottery by Terri Morgan

A fictional memoir that is well researched on the effects schizophrenic has on the entire family. It follows the life of Ava, who eventually changes her name to Caitlin to escape the chaotic past of her childhood.

Buy the book!
For the month of May, the ebook is only 99 cents at Amazon.

I also received a few recommendations from Twitter friends:

Girl Who Reads is an Amazon advertising affiliate; a small fee is earned when purchases are made through the links above.
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May 3, 2013

Chapters 1 & 2 from The Bleiberg Project by David Khara

Here is an excerpt of The Bleiberg Project, an adrenaline-pumping conspiracy thriller and the first in the Consortium Thriller series by the French writer David Khara. Are Hitler’s atrocities really over? For depressive Wall Street trader Jeremy Corbin, absolute truths become undeniable lies overnight. He finds out his long-lost father is dead, he discovers his boss's real identity, and he ends up boarding a plane to Zurich. He has a Nazi medallion in his pocket, a hot CIA bodyguard next to him, and a clearly dangerous Mossad agent on his tail. What was his father investigating? Why was his mother assassinated? Why are unknown sides fighting over him with automatic weapons? Can the conspiracy be stopped? This fast-paced thriller full of humor and humanity was an immediate sensation in France, catapulting the author to the ranks of the country’s top thriller writers. It was published in English by Le French Book, a digital-first publisher specializing in best-selling mysteries and thrillers from France.



Stutthof Concentration Camp, 1942.

Two years. Two long years in the frozen hell of northern Poland. You couldn’t say he wasn’t devoted! Horst Geller had joined the Schutzstaffel at the beginning of 1936. He was twenty-three. He had never been a big Hitler fan, but when he saw the way the führer fascinated the mob, he knew joining up was the smart thing to do. Horst had chosen the SS to be left alone, not to be part of Hitler’s personal protection squad. As a member of the SS, he knew his family would be respected and protected from the cloud of paranoia that hung over Germany. His homeland had gone insane and taken Europe down with it. But one day, the war would be over, and order would return. Horst was even willing to bet his little apartment on it.

In 1940, he found himself married and soon thereafter, a father. His whole life changed with this double reward. But 1941 hadn’t begun well. His higher-ups gave him a promotion, which in itself was good, even if he hadn’t asked for anything. But it meant a transfer to Poland to guard a prison camp. It was an important mission, and all of his attempts to refuse the transfer had failed. So Horst had gone, heavy-hearted, leaving his wife, Karin, and his baby daughter, Gisela, behind.

“At least it’s not the front,” he told his grief-stricken wife in lieu of goodbye. Two colorless summers passed, both followed by winters, proving every night that hell is, indeed, a very cold place. From time to time, Horst got leave and went to Danzig, thirty-five miles to the west, where he’d get drunk and try to forget his solitude with the “soldiers’ girls.” His pay kept his wife and baby comfortably fed, which meant one worry fewer. Work in the camp wasn’t very complicated. He just kept an eye on the dissidents sentenced to forced labor in the Deutsche Ausrüstungswerke, a special weapons factory that belonged to the SS. Sometimes he pulled Jews out of trucks and shoved them into the barracks, and once a week he supervised the distribution of the meager rations of bread and turnip soup. He occasionally took pleasure in seeing the Jews in their rightful place, but there were also children, and it was becoming more and more difficult to bear their fearful gazes and pleading. Horst didn’t want to hurt them. Of course, he had no sympathy for the Jews, and if he was asked to execute kids, he would, and for a simple reason: It was him or them.

Horst was an ordinary man lost in an endless winter, surrounded by hungry dogs and maniacal executioners. Sometimes he wondered how many other soldiers felt the way he did. How many of the elite soldiers answering to Reichsführer-SS Heinrich Himmler wept at night? At least one other, he hoped.

But SS Geller was even more depressed than usual that night. The temperature hovered around five below, and he was standing guard at the hospital, an imposing building much cleaner than the prisoners’ barracks. The hospital would have given him the chills if he weren’t already frozen stiff. The Jewish children who still had the strength to stand were sent here to satisfy the needs of the strange man who directed the place, known only by the name Herr Doktor.

The doctor never left the hospital and never mixed with the guards. Nobody had heard his voice. He communicated his needs in notes to the camp’s new commander, Major Hoppe. Sometimes equipment was transferred from the weapons factory to the hospital, but the camp director was the only other person allowed inside. Horst had once come upon Major Hoppe unloading the shipping cases himself. Hoppe was a cruel, brutal man, not the kind of guy to take orders from just anyone, so the doctor had to be an intimidating character. Still, nobody tried to find out more. In the absurd world of Camp Stutthof, ignorance eased one’s sleep and extended one’s life expectancy.

November 9, 1942, was a special day. That evening, Himmler himself was going to visit the hospital. The camp’s best soldiers were told to show the military and spiritual leader of the SS just how impeccably Stutthof was run. If everything went well, Hoppe thought they might receive more resources, men and equipment.

Horst was jittery. He took a long, hard drag on his cigarette and felt the smoke warm him up. His black leather gloves reeked of cold tobacco. He caught sight of a guard with two huge attack dogs patrolling the camp’s barbed wire perimeter. At least that guy got to move around.

There were nine soldiers waiting with Horst, conscientiously freezing their asses off in the name of their supreme leader. The group was silent, but the looks they exchanged said much about their general weariness. Himmler and his staff of brownnosers would arrive in a few moments. The men would perform their pantomime without a hitch, and tomorrow morning a hot cup of coffee would help Horst forget the frigid cold.

The evening was bright, and the moon and stars shone from an immaculate sky, lighting up the fine mist that perpetually rose from the region’s boggy ground. (The bright yellow searchlights in the guard towers were turned on only in high alerts.) Suddenly Horst and the nine other men threw down their cigarettes and crushed them under their heels. The sound of a motor could be heard coming down the dirt road that connected the camp to civilization. The rumble grew louder. Soon they could make out two approaching military vehicles. To their astonishment, the motorcade had only these two vehicles. The latest news from the front was good, but how could such an important man have such a small escort? Horst concluded the visit was top secret or, at the very least, meant to be discreet. The gates swung open, and the vehicles rolled to a halt in front of the honor guard.

The ten SS men snapped to attention, rifles resting on their left shoulders, their right arms lifted at a forty-five-degree angle, hands extended. Major Hoppe and the doctor hurried down the hospital steps and waited motionless in the middle of the two rows of soldiers. Four blond men emerged from the first vehicle. None were under six feet tall. They wore simple black uniforms in spite of the bitter cold.

One of them moved to the second car, opened its rear door and saluted Heil Hitler in a single crisp motion. Heinrich Himmler stepped out and gave the colossal soldier a friendly pat on the arm. A stiff aide-de-camp followed behind, carrying a heavy briefcase. The four men swiftly surrounded the reichsführer-SS and his assistant.

Horst watched the spectacle unfold from the corner of his eye. Four Bavarian woodsmen, dressed for August, protecting two little men in glasses, wrapped warmly in their greatcoats. Himmler headed up the two lines of soldiers with his men in tow. Major Hoppe and the doctor tried to hide their disappointment as Himmler momentarily ignored them to review the honor guard, smiling and uttering words of encouragement to the men. Himmler stopped in front of Horst.

“Is this climate too harsh for you, private?”

Surprised, Horst felt his heart begin to race. The devil could read his mind! He seized the opportunity. A little sucking-up couldn’t hurt. “For you, Your Excellency, I would guard the North Pole.” Himmler came closer. He had the fat, round face of a prosperous family man, but his pince-nez framed a malicious and disturbing expression.

“That isn’t what I asked,” Himmler replied under his breath. Horst stiffened.

He’d been exposed, but he remained calm. He was tired of pretending. “Poland is hell. I miss Hamburg, Your Excellency.”

Keeping his gaze fixed on Horst, Himmler removed his glasses and wiped them clean. “You’ll be transferred tomorrow.” Horst’s smile evaporated, and he swallowed nervously. He’d gone too far. Time stood still. Himmler’s face wore a placid expression. “You’ll be sent to Wewelsburg Castle. I’m sure you’ll find the Westphalian climate more agreeable. I need more people like you—people who speak their minds. I’m surrounded by toadies, competent though they are.” He nodded, indicating Major Hoppe.

Horst tightened his salute in relief. “Thank you, Your Excellency.” He held back a Heil Hitler that wouldn’t have helped matters at this point. Himmler turned away and gave instructions as he walked. His assistant nodded in agreement. They joined the camp leaders and swept into the front hall of the top- secret hospital. The masquerade was over.

The other guards gathered around Horst, taking out their cigarettes and lighters in unison. They warmly congratulated their lucky colleague. Horst tried to conceal his happiness, aware that his companions would soon be tormented with jealousy. They eventually dispersed and headed back to their quarters, but Horst stayed alone, his feet planted in the middle of the path. The knowledge that he would soon leave seemed to sharpen his senses. From now on, every breath of this frigid air would bring him closer to Germany and closer to home. He would hate Poland for the rest of his life.

One day he’d forget the horrors committed here. He took out the photo of his wife and baby from his inside pocket and kissed it. Suddenly, his vision blurred. A sharp noise wracked his skull. Where was it coming from? He tilted his head to the right. Orange flames enveloped his shoulder. The cold gave way to warmth, the world teetered, and he fell face-down. As the life painlessly left his body, Horst saw a trickle of blood run across the ground and over the photograph he was still holding in his burned hand. A child’s bare feet scampered across frozen earth; this was his last vision. Horst Geller, SS man by happenstance, a husband and father swept up in the general madness of war, died November 9, 1942. He was one of ten official victims in an assassination attempt against Heinrich Himmler. The master of the Black Order survived.

The final solution rolled inexorably onward.


Manhattan, present day, 9:48 a.m.

This morning, like every other morning, I’m hung over. My brain is fried. I’m a piece of shit. My head is pounding, and as I grope for aspirin on the bedside table, the lamp falls to the floor and breaks. How did that get there? When I sprinkle two pills into my palm, I feel better already. I toss them back and swallow them dry—water’s for pussies. I bury my head in the pillow. I don’t know what time it is, and I don’t give a damn. There’s a nagging sound, like something continually falling—or a lot of little things. My mouth tastes like tobacco. I’m a human ashtray.

I identify the sound. Water. A girl is in my shower. What’s her name again? I don’t remember, and I don’t give a shit either. If she’s taking a shower, she’s leaving soon. Fine by me. Everything is fine by me, as long as I take the hits. There’s one thing left to do, but I don’t have the guts. I just want to be done with it once and for all. I could use a rope or jump off a building, but I’m a coward. So until I find an easy way out, I’m killing myself one day at a time. It’s the same thing in the end.

She comes through the room, and I open an eye to see what she looks like. Small, brunette, tight. Not bad. She doesn’t look at me and probably doesn’t know my name either. But now I remember hers. Rachel. Is it Wednesday? Rachel was Tuesday. Actually, no, I don’t know her name. She makes an incredible amount of noise for somebody getting dressed. I hear her saying something from the other room. My face is still in the pillow, and I can’t understand. Probably “see you later.” Sure. See you never.

Finally I’m alone. I open my eyes. The fog in my head is gone, but it took its sweet time leaving. Ten in the morning, and I’m late for work as usual. That bitch splashed water all over the bathroom! I hate that. It’s a holdover from the days when I liked everything to be neat and in its place. I mop up the floor with a towel and get in the shower. The warm jets of water massage my body and gradually wake me up.

I’m thirty-one. I’m an asshole trader who works for a piece-of-shit Wall Street firm. I’m just a nobody, but I still seem to have a name: Jay Novacek. I turn off the water and grab a pack of cigarettes that’s been left beside the sink. I couldn’t just leave it there all alone, poor thing. I light one, because if I’m going to stick with my two-pack-a-day habit I have to get cracking. I look in the mirror and have to admit that I’m pretty well-built, though the memories of college sports and my occasional squash matches seem pretty distant now. I’m a good-looking guy. Girls say so, anyway. Blue eyes and a square jaw—they like that. The mirror steams up, and I can’t see myself anymore. Thank God.

10:20. I’m smoking my third cigarette and sprawled on the beige leather couch in the living room. A steaming cup of coffee rests on the glass coffee table. Coffee is the only way I’ll make it through the day. If everything goes well, I’ll be dressed in ten minutes and in my office before eleven. Miracles can happen.

I hate my apartment. It reeks of money—big, empty and cold. Did I ever like this shit? Leather? Glass and black lacquer? Abstract scribbles and splatters by painters more fashionable than talented? I guess the answer is yes. I recognize my personality only in the plastic Spider-Man and Doctor Doom figurines on top of my stereo system.

I take another drag. I’m a piece of shit who can’t even remember what he did last night. But I do remember every detail of one day by heart, to the point that I play it in my mind again and again. How long has it been? Six months? My memory of that day is as vivid as the coffee cup in front of me. I close my eyes and replay the events of that day for the umpteenth time…

I’m at the office. In front of me are six computer screens, blinking everywhere, with graphs, curves, trends, numbers. The world’s economy in a nutshell. On the other side of the Earth, people get up, work, pay back their loans, do their best to scrape by. But to me they don’t live. They produce. And what they produce makes me rich.

It’s Monday morning, and Dow Jones has collapsed. My friends are all trying to sell, but I’m buying everything that comes past. At the market’s close that afternoon, the results are unprecedented: an eleven-point gain. I’m a star. I’ve just made a billion dollars for my firm, and fifty million of it is mine. Nobody’s hotter than me. My boss is on cloud nine. My clients call, one after another, to thank me for what I’ve done. Champagne in the boardroom with the decrepit senior partners, conservative assholes, every one. The associates join us, and we pass the bottle around. When it’s empty we go to dinner— French and expensive. You do what you have to do. The other traders watch us go by like masters of the universe. They throw me dirty looks. They can go screw themselves, the losers. In the elevator we joke and slap each other on the back.

Up until then everything was going fine. The sound of the doorbell snaps me back to the present. 10:23. Shit! Who the hell could it be? Whatever. Go on, asshole, ring all you want. He’s a persistent asshole. I drag myself to the door. This apartment is way too big. I slide back the deadbolt and turn the knob. Two huge military men are standing ramrod straight in the hallway. They’re wearing their best brass, white gloves, hats, the whole nine yards. Even their medals are out, and these guys have a few. I’d say the first guy, the older one in front, has about fifty. His clone, twenty years younger, has nearly as many. They would seem to serve a purely decorative function.

“Mr. Corbin?” (Nobody’s called me that for at least twenty years.)

“Mr. Corbin is my father. I’m Jeremy Novacek.”

The penguins don’t even flinch. “Jeremy Novacek, we’re here to present our sincere condolences on behalf of the armed forces of the United States of America. Your father, Air Force Lieutenant General Daniel J. Corbin, passed away. It’s an honor to present you with this flag, as well as your father’s military decorations.” They give a military salute—rigid but clean. I’m not sure what to do. They don’t look like they want to come in and kick back. I salute in return. It seems to work. They turn to the left and leave in step with each other. I push the door shut and stand there. I’m holding a flag folded in a triangle and a box of metal scraps stamped with eagles and stars.

My old man is dead. I lean against the bar in the kitchen, grab a bottle of cognac and throw back a gulp. News like this calls for a celebration. Today’s program has just changed: first the office and then a train to Poughkeepsie. I ought to tell my mother that Lieutenant General Corbin finally decided to kick it.

(First published in French as Le Projet Bleiberg, ©2010 Editions Critic. English translation ©2013 Simon John. First published in English in 2013 by Le French Book, Inc., New York).

About the Author:

David Khara studied law, worked as a reporter for Agence France Press, was a top-level athlete, and ran his own business for a number of years. Now he is a full-time writer. Khara wrote his first novel— a vampire thriller—in 2010, before starting his Consortium thriller series. The first in the series, The Bleiberg Project, became an immediate bestseller in France, catapulting Khara into the ranks of the country’s top thriller writers.

About the Translator:

Simon John was born in the United Kingdom. After graduating from Cambridge University, a quest for wine, women and goat cheese led him to Paris, where he began working in film production and translation. He primarily translates and subtitles movies, such as Michael Haneke’s Palme d’Or- winner Love and blockbusters Taken 1 & 2. After twenty fertile years and 3,713 goat cheese salads in Paris, he is now based in Berlin.

About Le French Book:

Le French Book is a New York-based digital-first publisher specialized in great reads from France. It was founded in December 2011 because, as founder Anne Trager says, “I couldn’t stand it anymore. There are just too many good books not reaching a broader audience. There is a very vibrant, creative culture in France, and the recent explosion in e-reader ownership provides a perfect medium to introduce readers to some of these fantastic French authors.”

More thrillers and mysteries at:

Buy the book!

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Girl Who Reads is an Amazon US advertising affiliate; a small fee is earned when purchases are made through the link above. The excerpt above was provided by Le French Book. 

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Jodi Stone Prize Pack Giveaway

From children's author & illustrator Jodi Stone

Prize Pack includes:
$25 Visa gift card, Paperback copy of 'An Easter Bonnet for Lily' , Jodi Stone Illustrated Greeting Cards,
Jodi Stone Illustrated Paper Dolls, Magnets, bookmarks

Join children's author & illustrator Jodi Stone for a Twitter Party
Tuesday, May 7 at 11:00 am ET
Connect with the Author: Goodreads  *  Facebook  *  website

Easter is Savannah’s favorite holiday. She loves to dress up in her fanciest of dresses and bonnets, and enjoys all of the traditions her family continues year to year. Savannah finds herself struggling though on a day that she usually loves, and finds herself feeling discouraged. Across the land in Tulip, Easter Bunnies are preparing for the big day as well, all but one: Lily. Lily is the newest Easter Bunny recruit, but struggles with one major problem: her ears. Join both Savannah and Lily on this magical Easter adventure, where they will both realize that magic is held within your heart if you just believe.

Buy the book at Amazon!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

A GWR Publicity promotional event paid for by Anchor Group Publishing. The giveaway is sponsored by the author.
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April 30, 2013

New Tour Coming in June - Bloggers Needed

Award winning children's author Karen Pokras Toz debuts her Adult Contemporary novel Chasing Invisible this June. This is a tour you don't want to miss.

Chasing Invisible

Could you handle life in the spotlight?

Julia Alexander is a quiet girl from a small town. Content to spend her days with her small group of friends and a pile of books, Julia thinks her future is set. When she unexpectedly meets Chase, a fellow college student and budding musician, she is unaware of just how drastically things are about to change. 

Suddenly thrown into the limelight, her life is no longer her own. Relentlessly followed by the paparazzi, Julia is forced to make tough decisions about fame, love, family, and relationships. But just how much will Julia have to sacrifice to become invisible...

Book Blast: June 18
Tour: June 19 - July 8
Giveaway: $25 Amazon Gift Card & Swag Pack

Tour Schedule:
June 18 In the Land of Dreams Excerpt
June 19 Tyrneathem Top Ten List
June 20 Cu's e-Book Giveaways Character Guest Post
June 21 Muddying the Waters Review & author interview
June 22 Rayborn rambles Review
June 23 The Journey Continues Review & Author Guest Post
June 24 The Book Connection Review
June 25 Pavarti K Tyler Excerpt
June 26 Library Girl Reads & Reviews Author Guest Post
June 27 Lubs Book Chatter Review and Character Guest Post
June 28 Fiona's Book Review Blog Author Interview
June 29 Kats Read Author Guest Post
June 30 From the Bootheel Cotton Patch Book Promo
July 1 fuonlyknew Excerpt
July 2 Fresh Pot of Tea Excerpt
July 3 lindsay and janes views and reviews Review & Character Guest Post
July 4 Girl Who Reads Author Guest Post
July 5 The avid Reader Book Promo
July 6 Lissette E. Manning Review & Author Guest Post
July 7 Ohana Day Academy Review
July 8 Ali's Bookshelf Review

A GWR Publicity tour paid for by the author.
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Bloggers Wanted: $25 Amazon/iTune Gift Card Giveaway

The Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman is back with the forth installment of the series:

The Hitwoman and the Family Jewels by J. B. Lynn

You will want to tell all your friends and family about this hilarious book and what better way to do that than with a gift card giveaway?

Sign up below to host a $25 Amazon or iTunes Gift Card Giveaway on May 28

How do you say “no” to a mob boss?

When bumbling hitwoman Maggie Lee is asked by her mob boss employer to kill a cop, she wants to say no.

When her sexy murder mentor, Patrick Mulligan tells her the cop in question is a guy she once dated, she REALLY wants to refuse.

But when her former date, Paul Kowalski tries to kill her, she changes her tune to “Hell, yes!”

Maggie and Patrick grow closer as they scramble to figure out what it is that Kowalski is looking for and what it has to do with her prison escapee father.

Maggie’s search is hampered by the presence of US Marshals hunting her father and her crazier-than-usual family.

Along with her snarky talking lizard, grammatically-challenged Doberman, and a pissy cat, she races to solve the mystery and protect her family. But nothing in Maggie’s life ever goes as planned….

Sign up HERE:
(after you sign up, you can grab the post instructions and html file here)

A GWR Publicity promotional event paid for by the author. The giveaway is sponsored by the author.

Featured Book: The Forgotten Ones

May is Mental Health Awareness Month and I'm hoping to feature a number of books in May dealing with mental health issues. I'm a day early, but I thought I would go ahead and tell you about this upcoming title. I LOVE this cover.

The Forgotten Ones by Laura Howard
Allison O'Malley's plan is to go to grad school so she can get a good job and take care of her schizophrenic mother. She has carefully closed herself off from everything else, including a relationship with Ethan, who she's been in love with for as long as she can remember.

What is definitely not part of the plan is the return of her long-lost father, who claims he can bring Allison's mother back from the dark place her mind has gone. Allison doesn't trust her father, so why would she believe his stories about a long forgotten Irish people, the Tuatha de Danaan? But truths have a way of revealing themselves. Secrets will eventually surface. And Allison must learn to set aside her plan and work with her father if there is even a small chance it could restore her mother's sanity.

Praise for The Forgotten Ones:

I fell deeply in love with this book from the first moment I started reading it! 
~ Amy at Goodreads

The descriptions Laura uses is amazing and I actually could feel myself there. 
~ Jodi at Goodreads

This book was superbly thought out and extremely creative with entwining of a fantasy realm unlike any other, with a modern day real world.
 ~ Bethany of The Reading Vixens

About the Author:

Laura Howard lives in New Hampshire with her husband and four children. Her obsession with books began at the age of 6 when she got her first library card. Nancy Drew, Sweet Valley High and other girly novels were routinely devoured in single sittings. Books took a backseat to diapers when she had her first child. It wasn’t until the release of a little novel called Twilight, 8 years later, that she rediscovered her love of fiction. Soon after, her own characters began to make themselves known. The Forgotten Ones is her first published novel.
Twitter  *  Facebook  *  Blog 

Buy the book at Amazon!

Laura Howard kicks off her tour today. Find the whole schedule at Itching for Books.

Girl Who Reads is an Amazon advertising affiliate; a small fee is earned when purchases are made through the above link. 

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April 29, 2013

Meet the Author: Kathleen S. Allen

My name is Kathleen S. Allen and I have been writing since I was old enough to hold a pencil. I used to “write” stories by scribbling on paper even before I knew the alphabet then I’d “read” them to my mother. I learned to read at the age of three and by five I was reading adult books. I began writing poetry and self-published my first book of poems at the age of eight. I made a book jacket of blue and orange construction paper, copied my poems in my best printing, paper punched holes in the sides, tied it all up with a red ribbon and was good to go! My actual first published poem was in Cat Fancy magazine at the age of fifteen. I’ve been writing ever since. To date I’ve had novels, short stories, poems, flash fiction and lyric essays published. I have novels published both as eBooks and in print, some were self-published on Amazon/Nook but some were from small publishers. I am looking for a literary agent to take me to the next level. You know, get that movie deal. LOL. I write in different genres but young adult is my favorite. The author who influenced me the most was Anne McCaffrey , a science fiction and fantasy author. She wrote The Dragonriders of Pern and my favorite series, The Harper Hall trilogy which is young adult.

My latest novel is a YA contemporary called, HOW TO BE ALMOST FAMOUS IN TEN DAYS. It’s about seventeen year old Cassie who feels invisible, especially next to her BFF, Rachel, who is model gorgeous. When she finds a book on how to be famous in ten days in a secondhand bookstore she devises a plan— with the help of her BFF to be famous. She has hilarious and sometimes serious, almost disastrous consequences. Come follow Cassie on her quest to be “seen.”

website  *  blog  *  Pinterest  *  Twitter  *  Facebook

About the Book:


My fingertips drifted across the dusty books stacked haphazardly on the shelf. I wasn’t looking for any particular book title—just wasting time while Rachel searched for a book in the romance section. I walked around the second hand books piled in haphazard stacks on the faded brown carpet in search of a science fiction. Closing my eyes as my fingers flitted over the books, I played a game I used to play when I was younger. If some book wanted me to read it, I’d know by the feeling the book gave me. Forgetting about the piles everywhere I ran into one—or two, I’m not sure—I opened my eyes just as I fell, sending the piles sprawling across the floor. Which, by the way, smelled and looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in centuries.

Rachel called out, “You okay, Cassie?”

“Yes,” I mumbled, sitting up.

No clerk came to my rescue, so I began to restack the books. My elbow was a bit scraped a bit, but otherwise no damage. Sighing, I continued piling up the books until a small yellow book caught my eye.

“How to Be Famous in Ten Days,” I read aloud.

“What?” Rachel asked from the other side of the aisle.

“I found a book,” I yelled back.

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Girl Who Reads is an Amazon advertising affiliate; a small fee is earned when purchases are made through the links above. The views, opinions, and beliefs expressed by contributing authors are their own and do not necessarily reflect those of Girl Who Reads.

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April 28, 2013

Sunday Sales Page 4/28

Pick up a free or 99 cent ebook to enjoy this week

Rook: Allie's War, Book 1 by JC Andrijeski
Twenty-eight-year-old San Francisco native, Allie Taylor, knows she's got issues, but she at least thought she was human. Against a gritty and original backdrop of a modern-day San Francisco populated by a second race of beings, Allie discovers she is a member of an enslaved yet deeply powerful race, who believe Allie will free them from humanity. With her guide and bodyguard, Revik, a mysterious and deadly seer who kidnaps her before the authorities can arrest her for being not-human, Allie must learn how to harness the power of who she really is...or end up a slave like the rest of her race.

Get for 99 cents (through May 1)

Amazon  *  B&N

Sacrifice (Gryphon Series #3) by Stacey Rourke
Celeste Garrett has finally found a happy balance in her life as the Chosen One, thanks in large part to a certain hunky Irishman. But if there’s any lesson she should heed since receiving her calling it’s that everything can change in the blink of an eye. Soon a terrible new threat, unlike anything she’s ever encountered, causes her to make a gut-wrenching choice that will strip her of someone she holds dear. 

As much as she’d like to have a pity party for one, there’s no time for that now because wedding bells are ringing in Gainesboro! In between dress fittings and rehearsal dinners Celeste will have to fend off attacking demons and leering pirates. As if the Dark Army wasn’t scary enough our heroine is faced with the horrifying trauma of attending a bachelorette party with her mom and watching Grams do Jello shots. Is a walk down the aisle even possible for a member of the Garrett family when the Dark Army is out to destroy them? More importantly, will the Dark Army Glee Club sing at the reception?

Raise your glass to the happy couple, and get ready for a wedding…Conduit-style. 

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The Old Folks at Home by Barry Friedman
Henry and Harriet Callins, discovering that all that glitters is not Golden Age, move into a senior retirement residence. Among the exciting events they experience are: waiting for the mailman each day, going to meetings where problems are solved by planning more meetings, well you get the idea. Henry suspects that the residents in the Assisted Living section of the facility are receiving an assist that is detrimental to their health. His curiosity puts himself and his wife in mortal danger.

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