Release Day Blitz- TIME FOR SENSIBILITY by @writes_sinclair With An Excerpt & #Giveaway! @RockstarBkTours

I am so excited that TIME FOR SENSIBILITY by M. Sinclair is available now and that I get to share the news!

If you haven’t yet heard about this wonderful book by Author M. Sinclair, be sure to check out all the details below.

This blitz also includes a giveaway for a $10 Amazon GC courtesy of Rockstar Book Tours & M. So if you’d like a chance to win, check out the giveaway info below.

About The Book:

Title: TIME FOR SENSIBILITY: Only Time Will Tell (Women of Time Collection, #12)

Author: M. Sinclair

Pub. Date: August 28, 2020

Publisher: M. Sinclair

Formats: Paperback, eBook

Pages: 120

Find it: Goodreads, Amazon

Read For Free With A Kindle Unlimited Subscription!

Do not read this book.

No, seriously, I have absolutely no idea why one was even written about my life. This is ridiculous. Not only did I live in the middle of nowhere in a drug infested town, under the roof of a trailer that was literally collapsing on itself... but nothing, and I mean, nothing interesting has ever happened to me. Well, unless you counted being abandoned outside of a motel, picked up by my new foster father that was always too high to remember my name, or spending the last six years traveling the United States practically homeless. Oh! Let's not forget to include the jerk that I really needed to break up with because let's face it... he had actually started to scare me. A lot.

I'd spent the last six years of my life feeling horribly out of place. Feeling like I was not only in a time that didn't fit me but in a place that was so lackluster that I had issues believing it was real. So when I tell you not to read this book? I mean it.

There is nothing of interest in here. I promise.

Well, I suppose there was one memorable and interesting moment in my recent past… the night of my eighteenth birthday. You know, the one where my four hot neighbors, and known criminals, kidnapped me onto a river boat. You could say I was confused when I found myself falling asleep floating down a Missouri river... and waking up to marmalade skies and a talking river otter with a hot pink top hat. None of that confusion though compared to when my four psycho kidnappers made me remember everything I'd forgotten.

Because I had been right, I didn't fucking belong here.

I belonged in the Kingdom of Snark.

This book is anything but sensible. Time for Sensibility is a standalone reverse harem romance that is fast-burn with violence, swearing, a band of hot psychos, a wonderland inspired world, and a haunted slightly naive MFC. Abuse is mentioned. +18 audience.

Exclusive Excerpt!

I wasn’t positive what it was about these men, but they made me feel grounded. More myself, a stronger version of myself. I didn’t think nor could have predicted that my new grounded nature would include an acceptance of homicide…but in this situation it seemed like the most sensible shit that I’d heard all year. Or maybe I was just goddamn insane, and that felt more real than not to me.

When Preston had first told me, I’d been freaked out.

I’d been caught up on the concept of them killing someone in general, not specifically Wade. Then I realized I was only upset because I felt like I ‘should’ be upset and since I wasn’t, I’d felt guilty.

Now though? Well, what was done was done… and frankly, I had always been aware of what they were capable of. I’d heard the rumors about how dangerous they were. Plus, the motherfucker had left bruises on me. That wasn’t fucking okay.

Movement pulled me from my thoughts, my head snapping over to Ranger and Lorenzo as they exited the trailer.

The sky above us was thundering, but no rain fell on the guys, their smiles really fucking big for having just murdered someone. It was sort of hot.

I was starting to understand why I had never been attracted to anyone else before them. I was very clearly into serial killers. I should have known, considering how much I loved watching documentaries about that shit.

Ranger was covered in blood as he stripped off his shirt, the man preferring to be shirtless far more than clothed, I had gathered, and dropped it on the pavement before running his bloody hands through his hair, tinting it with crimson. Lorenzo, on the other hand, had just rolled his sleeve up, hiding the singular stain of blood. Damn, they were so different from each other.

I had the urge to know what it would be like between them. I felt like the way they fucked would be so dangerously different, and I craved that. I just craved them. Alright, I possibly had a problem.

About M. Sinclair:

International Bestselling Author

M. Sinclair is a Chicago native, parent to 3 cats, and can be found reading almost every moment of the day... yes, that includes while at work. Despite being new to publishing, M. Sinclair has been writing for nearly 10 years now. Currently, in love with the Reverse Harem genre, she plans to publish an array of works that are considered romance, suspense, and horror within the year. She also believes that there is enough room for all types of heroines in this world and that being saved is as important as saving others. So be a princess and a warrior!

Just remember to love cats... that's not negotiable.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram | Goodreads | Amazon | BookBub

Giveaway Details:

One lucky winner will receive a $10 Amazon gift card, International.

Ends September 15^th, midnight EST.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Release Day Blitz- BEAUTIFUL by Leigh Hatchmann With An Excerpt & #Giveaway!

I am so excited that BEAUTIFUL by Leigh Hatchmann is available now and that I get to share the news!

If you haven’t yet heard about this wonderful book by Author Leigh Hatchmann, be sure to check out all the details below.

This blitz also includes a giveaway for a $10 Amazon GC courtesy of Rockstar Book Tours & Leigh. So if you’d like a chance to win, check out the giveaway info below.

About The Book:

Title: BEAUTIFUL

Author: Leigh Hatchmann

Pub. Date: August 27, 2020

Publisher: Leigh Hatchmann

Formats: Paperback, eBook

Pages: 366

Find it: Goodreads, Amazon, Kindle

Bella-Rosa Amato

My life is the envy of women everywhere. I live in a gorgeous mansion, wear expensive clothes, go to A-list parties, and attend a prestigious college.

It is a life of beauty and glamor . . . and all of it is a lie.

Behind closed doors, I am bullied by my cold and powerful father. With no money of my own, I have no choice but to obey him . . .

Until I am attacked, and a half man-half beast intervenes. Kit takes me to his home to heal, where I am immersed in his secret world. As we bond over unexpected experiences and shared interests, my gratitude changes into something that feels as old as time.

Kit/King

I was created for the darkness and, for a while, it controlled me. But I escaped that life and made a new home for myself.

Before Bella crossed my path, I didn’t think happiness was possible. But she not only accepts my differences, she offers friendship.

Her gentle and compassionate heart opens me up to those parts within me.

With her, I don’t feel like the beast I have always been labeled.

But the closer we get, the more I wonder if I am truly as human as she believes, and whether the mistakes of the beast can ever be forgiven . . .

When an old enemy resurfaces, Bella and Kit will need to stand firm in their love, face the brutalities of the past, and trust in the beauty that comes from within to make it out alive.

BEAUTIFUL is a sweet and dark, modern retelling of Beauty and the Beast. The themes of beauty, strength, redemption, and love shine through in an unforgettable tale that will make you question everything you think you know about beauty . . . and the beast.

Excerpt:

My senses picked up new stimuli: leaves being trampled, three sets of racing feet . . . and traces of spilled human blood. Not enough to cause death, but enough to tease my nose.

I heard a rough male voice yell, “Stop her. She’s getting away again.”

She? Again?

A second male, younger sounding, added, “How the hell? She should be dead by now.”

That pricked my ears up. Literally. I paused, waiting for what else I could hear. One set of the footsteps were closing in on me. The woman. Her musky perfume was light, but feminine. If I stepped behind a tree and took advantage of the growing night-time shadows, I could hide. Yet, when I tried, I found I could not move from my spot. Frowning, I crouched into the darkness instead.

Satisfied I would be safe from easy observation, I narrowed my attention onto my hearing. Panicked breaths, a raised heartbeat, blood pounding in fear reached my ears. It was definitely the woman. The men were chasing her. She was terrified . . . and heading straight for me.

The next second, a woman stumbled to the ground a few feet away. My natural night vision allowed 

me to see her as clearly as if it were midday.

Fresh blood dripped from cuts above her top lip, both eyebrows, left cheek, and the bridge of her nose. Her palms held fresh, jagged cuts and her left leg had an uneven slice from the top of her ankle to the mid-shin. The latter injuries told me one thing. She scaled the eight-foot, barbed wire fence that keeps us closed off from the outside world. Whatever she was running from must have been serious for her to do that. In the process of either running from the men or scaling the fence, she’d lost her shoes. Her feet would be scraped and sore from the loose sticks and underbrush.

I continued to scan her body for visible damage. Blackening bruises marked her right eye, chin, and arms. Probably other places I couldn’t see. Her red dress had been torn in multiple places––from barbed wire, gripping twigs in the thick forest, or grabbing hands? I wouldn’t know for sure until I got a closer look.

She panted, desperate for both breath and relief. How had she run from her obvious attackers in this weakened state? She looked and sounded ready to collapse from exhaustion.

The way I must have looked to Josephine when she found me.

The woman tried to scramble to her feet but fell onto her back. The action made her cry out in pain. 

My heart squeezed. Compassion propelled me toward her. I stepped on a fallen branch. The ensuing cracking noise echoed through the surrounding trees.

The woman lifted her hands to cover her face and whimpered, “Please. Don’t,” before passing out.

A strange ache passed through me, like I had lost something important. I heard the beast in me roar for the first time in years.

The first male voice cut through the air, “Did you hear that?”

“Maybe a coyote has her?”

“Serves her right, but we’d better check. Mr. Chisholm will want to know. This way.”

Mr. Chisholm?

Recognition flickered in the back of my mind. Where did I know that name?

Two flashlight beams bobbed in the distance, closing in on us. For the second time that night, I relied on the insistent urges within me. I scooped the woman into my arms and ran.

About Leigh:

Leigh Hatchmann is a best-selling non-fiction author, international-selling romance author, identical triplet, writing coach, editor, and hot chocolate addict. She uses her postgraduate degree in counseling to create believable, three-dimensional characters. Her certificates in forensic science and forensic anthropology help her to create realistic crime elements in her stories. She is currently completing her master's degree in writing and has also finished postgraduate study in editing. When not writing, reading, coaching, studying, or enjoying nature, she can be found having fun in nature with her three gorgeous children (plus one laid back dog and one grumpy cat). She is active on social media and encourages readers to interact with her there. She also writes fiction under the pseudonym A.K. Leigh and non-fiction as Alicia Leigh.

*Fall in love . . . with Leigh!*

Website | Blog | Facebook | Instagram | YouTube | Goodreads | Amazon Page | BookBub

Giveaway Details:

3 winners will receive a $10 Amazon GC, International.

Ends September 3rd. Midnight EST.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Tour- BROTHER'S KEEPER by @julieleeauthor With An Excerpt & #GIveaway! @HolidayHouseBks,& @RockstarBkTours

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the BROTHER'S KEEPER by Julie Lee Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!

About the Book:

Title: BROTHER'S KEEPER

Author: Julie Lee

Pub. Date: July 21, 2020

Publisher: Holiday House

Formats: Hardcover, eBook, Audiobook

Pages: 304

Find it: Goodreads, Amazon, Kindle, Audible, B&N, iBooks, Kobo, TBD, Bookshop.org

Can two children escape North Korea on their own?

North Korea. December, 1950.

Twelve-year-old Sora and her family live under an iron set of rules: No travel without a permit. No criticism of the government. No absences from Communist meetings. Wear red. Hang pictures of the Great Leader. Don't trust your neighbors. Don't speak your mind. You are being watched.

But war is coming, war between North and South Korea, between the Soviets and the Americans. War causes chaos--and war is the perfect time to escape. The plan is simple: Sora and her family will walk hundreds of miles to the South Korean city of Busan from their tiny mountain village. They just need to avoid napalm, frostbite, border guards, and enemy soldiers.

But they can't. And when an incendiary bombing changes everything, Sora and her little brother Young will have to get to Busan on their own. Can a twelve-year-old girl and her eight-year-old brother survive three hundred miles of warzone in winter?

Haunting, timely, and beautiful, this harrowing novel from a searing new talent offers readers a glimpse into a vanished time and a closed nation.

A Junior Library Guild Selection

Excerpt:

ONE

North Korea

June 25, 1950

I didn’t want to step into the river, but I had to. He was floating away.

“Youngsoo!” I stomped in waist- deep, gripping my toes against the sharp- edged clams on the rocky floor. Rushing water swirled around me. I grabbed my little brother’s hand and dragged him back to shore.

“Sorry, Noona,” Youngsoo said, calling me older sister in Korean. “I leaned out too far with my net.” It wasn’t the first time he’d lost his balance and tipped over while fi shing, his stomach smacking against the water. He shivered in his wet uniform.

“I told you not to go in too deep. Hold still.” I wrung the ends of his shirt and straightened the red scarf around his neck, then took a step back and frowned. What would Omahni say? I could already feel our mother’s punishment stick snapping against my calves. “How could you have fallen in right before your Sonyondan Club meeting? Your scarf is so wet, it’s almost black!”

“Don’t worry. It’s just a scarf,” he said, looking at his feet.

I stared at him. Everyone knew the red scarf was the most important part of the communist youth club uniform. Red had become sacred. It fluttered in the star of our new North Korean flag. Mothers tied and retied it cautiously around their children’s necks. And red armbands stood out on the white of the villagers’ clothes like a bloodstain.

Youngsoo hung his head low. “I almost caught a fish, Noona. It slipped out of my net.”

“I know, I know,” I said impatiently. “Every day you almost catch a big one.”

But then a pang of regret shot through me, knowing how hard he tried despite always coming home with an empty net.

“I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. What kind of fish do you want? Trout? Salmon? Catfi sh?” He puff ed up his skinny chest like a little man and extended his arm toward the river. “Just name it, and I’ll catch it for you.”

Before I had the chance to give him a stern sideways glance, the kind Omahni always gave me, he smiled earnestly, a piece of black plum skin caught in his teeth. I sighed, wondering if this was how he always kept our mother from staying mad at him too long.

A bell chimed from the schoolhouse on the hill. The teacher, Comrade Cho, stood in front waiting to close the doors, a red band cinched tightly around his upper arm. Stragglers from Youngsoo’s third- grade class sprinted past us as we headed up the slope.

“You can’t be dumber than the fish if you want to catch them!” a boy shouted at us, his red scarf knotted perfectly.

Youngsoo pushed up his sleeves. “At least I’m not dumber than you! And my sister is smarter than everyone! Right, Noona?”

I groaned. Why did he have to drag me into this?

“Your sister can’t be that smart! She doesn’t even go to school anymore!” the boy called back, laughing from the hilltop.

My shoulders stiffened. He was right. When I’d turned twelve two months ago, Omahni had pulled me out of school to look after my little brothers.

I glanced at Youngsoo—so drenched and disheveled. Did he even know how lucky he was?

“You’ll be late.” I couldn’t look at him anymore. “Just go.”

I pushed him up the hill. Omahni said that skipping even one communist youth club meeting meant Youngsoo’s name—no, our family name—would go on a government watch list.

And then terrible things would happen.

“What a beautiful day to labor in this socialist paradise!” Comrade Cho announced as the students approached. “Don’t forget to continue gathering scrap iron for weapons and bullets, or else your parents will have to pay a fi ne. Your work is important in making the Fatherland strong!”

Youngsoo joined the wave of red running up the hill, then disappeared inside the A-frame timber schoolhouse. Looking at it, I felt a twinge of loss.

Not for the Girls’ Sonyondan Club that I no longer attended, joining my parents at grown-up Party meetings instead.

Not for the new teacher, Comrade Cho, who gave candy to students for reporting anything anti- communist their parents said at home.

Not for the kids in class, who were loyal to the Party first and family second, and could never be trusted as friends.

But for all the learning I was missing. Math. Geography. Science.

When I could escape from my chores, I hid behind the willow tree by the school window and eavesdropped on the class.

Today, though, was not a day for escaping chores. I picked up my laundry basket and balanced it on top of my head. The sound of wooden paddles beckoned me back toward the river, and like a funeral marcher, I went.

Downstream, mounds of laundry littered the bank. Women squatted on flat boulders jutting from the sandbars. They scrubbed pants with thick bar soap, their shoulders pumping like pistons, then beat them with fl at paddles as if spanking their children. Without any men nearby, the women gossiped about husbands and mothers-in-law as they lifted their shirts to wipe their faces. I looked away.

“Yah, Sora! What are you so embarrassed about?” asked Mrs. Lee, her cheeks ruddy from the sun.

I smiled, tight- lipped, and found an open area to set my basket. My long tan skirt was soaked from saving Youngsoo.

“Why’s your mom sending a girl to do a woman’s job, huh?” a farmer’s wife shouted.

“Who else is she supposed to send—her sons? Anyway, Sora’s not such a little girl anymore, right?” Mrs. Lee said. “Look, she’s even starting to get little breasts now.” She poked me in the ribs, and I jerked like a string puppet.

They laughed heartily. My cheeks burned, and I hunched my back to hide my chest. I gazed up at the schoolhouse as if it might somehow reach down to save me, the straw basket pressing against my shins. But it wouldn’t, and the laundry wouldn’t wash itself.

I took out my brothers’ dirty clothes—Jisoo’s cloth diapers, Youngsoo’s muddy uniform pants—and crouched in the shallows, joining the drumbeat of women. I plunged my raw knuckles into the soapy water, hiding them beneath the cloudy white.

A grandmother came running from around the hill, splashing along the river’s edge toward the rest of us, and I watched the waves ripple over my hands. At first I hardly noticed the whispers, the way the women huddled around her. But their murmurs grew, and I looked up at them—their mouths agape, their brows creased—and suddenly everything felt wrong.

The women started hastily packing unfinished laundry into their baskets. I rushed to rinse Youngsoo’s uniform pants. Something was not right. I needed to go. The last time a message had spread this urgently, the landlord’s son was found floating facedown in the river, his body bloated like a blood sausage. I lifted the basket onto my head and hurried onto the main road through the village center, stumbling past a row of thatched- roof houses, my breath coming fast and hard.

“Noona!”

I spun around and saw Youngsoo running along the bank. He stopped short before crashing into me.

“What are you doing here? Were you sent home? Was it the wet scarf? Are they putting us on a list?” I asked, my voice rising with panic.

“No, something amazing happened!” Youngsoo’s eyes shimmered like the river, and he practically sang the words: “We don’t have to go to school anymore!”

My stomach clenched. “What do you mean, Youngsoo? That’s impossible.”

“Comrade Cho told the whole class that ‘because of the current situation, there will be no school until further notice,’ ” he said, carefully repeating his teacher’s words. “He even said that ‘today will be a day to go down in history.’ ” Youngsoo jumped high in the air, hollering and hooting at his sudden change in luck. “No more school! No more school!”

My palms turned cold and clammy.

“We need to go home,” I managed to say. “Come on.”

We walked past streams flowing into rivers, then through plains and pastures until we could see the rice- straw roof of our home. The house was square-shaped to block the bitter winds cascading down the mountains in winter, and it sat squat in the countryside, fifty miles north of Pyongyang, the capital. Although it looked like every other farmhouse in the valley, it was unmistakably home, the rounded edges of the worn, thatched roof hugging the house like a mushroom cap. Around it, fields of corn and millet stirred in the hot wind.

We hurried inside. A broadcaster’s voice and the hiss of static rushed to greet us. I set the basket down and stepped into a pair of house slippers.

Abahji sat as motionless as a rock, leaning in to the radio. Deep lines creased his forehead. I had never seen our father look so grave.

Beside him, Baby Jisoo looked up from a pile of clean clothes, yawned once, then went back to his favorite pastime: pulling socks over each of his feet.

Youngsoo and I sat on the floor beside Abahji. I quieted my breathing to hear, but I couldn’t understand the announcer’s words through the heavy static. I turned to Youngsoo and shrugged, unable to explain Abahji’s pensive face.

All at once, the signal cleared, and Youngsoo’s eyes brightened as if he had just solved a riddle.

“That’s what my teacher was talking about. That’s the reason there will be no more school!” he shouted, pointing at the radio. “War! War! Starting today, we are at war!”

About Julie: 

Julie Lee graduated from Cornell University with a degree in history. After working in market research in Manhattan for over ten years, she decided to pursue writing full-time. Currently, Julie lives in Georgia with her husband and three children. When she is not spending time with her family, she is working on her next book while pursuing an MFA in Writing for Children and Young Adults at the Vermont College of Fine Arts. Brother's Keeper is her debut novel.

Website | Twitter | Facebook |  Goodreads 

Giveaway Details:

3 winners will receive a finished copy of BROTHER'S KEEPER, US Only.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tour Schedule:

Week One:

8/24/2020	BookHounds YA	Review
8/24/2020	BookHounds	Instagram Post
8/25/2020	Loie Dunn	Excerpt
8/25/2020	logcabinlibrary	Excerpt
8/25/2020	JaimeRockstarBookTours	Instagram Post
8/26/2020	Jazzy Book Reviews	Excerpt
8/26/2020	Lifestyle of Me	Review
8/26/2020	Two Chicks on Books	Excerpt
8/27/2020	Seeing Double In Neverland	Spotlight
8/27/2020	Seeing Double In Neverland	Instagram Post
8/28/2020	Little red reads	Review
8/28/2020	Little red reads	Instagram Post

Week Two:

8/31/2020	Debjani's Thoughts	Review
8/31/2020	Miss Elizabeth	Review
9/1/2020	Karma Readz Kidz Bookz	Review
9/1/2020	Her Book Thoughts	Review
9/1/2020	Her Book Thoughts	Instagram Post
9/2/2020	History from a Woman’s Perspective	Review
9/2/2020	Twirling Book Princess	Excerpt
9/3/2020	The Writer’s Alley	Review
9/3/2020	The Writer’s Alley	Instagram Post
9/4/2020	Two Points of interest	Review
9/4/2020	Fyrekatz Blog	Review
9/4/2020	Jaime's World	Excerpt