Sunday, August 7, 2011
The Peach Keeper by Sarah Addison Allen
Rating: BRAG!
by Sarah Addison Allen
Contemporary Fiction, Mystery
Hardcover: 288 pages
Publication Date: March 2011
Cover Description
The New York Times bestselling author of The Girl Who Chased the Moon welcomes you to her newest locale: Walls of Water, North Carolina, where the secrets are thicker than the fog from the town’s famous waterfalls, and the stuff of superstition is just as real as you want it to be.
It’s the dubious distinction of thirty-year-old Willa Jackson to hail from a fine old Southern family of means that met with financial ruin generations ago. The Blue Ridge Madam—built by Willa’s great-great-grandfather during Walls of Water’s heyday, and once the town’s grandest home—has stood for years as a lonely monument to misfortune and scandal. And Willa herself has long strived to build a life beyond the brooding Jackson family shadow. No easy task in a town shaped by years of tradition and the well-marked boundaries of the haves and have-nots.
But Willa has lately learned that an old classmate—socialite do-gooder Paxton Osgood—of the very prominent Osgood family, has restored the Blue Ridge Madam to her former glory, with plans to open a top-flight inn. Maybe, at last, the troubled past can be laid to rest while something new and wonderful rises from its ashes. But what rises instead is a skeleton, found buried beneath the property’s lone peach tree, and certain to drag up dire consequences along with it.
VERDICT
Delicious enough to devour in a day! Sarah Addison Allen bestows on us a magical tale about friendship, southern charm, romance, and female independence. The Peach Keeper was thoroughly entertaining until the very end.
This charming story is the first novel I have read of Ms. Allen's. Now, I cannot wait to read more from her.
Good Reading,
Sarah :)
Quotes from The Peach Keeper
"Happiness means taking risks. And if you're not a little scared, you're not doing it right."
"When you're a teenager, your friends are your life. When you grow up, friendships seem to get pushed further and further back, until it seems like a luxury, a frivolity, like a bubble bath."
"Maybe you're afraid to relax and let some things just happen."
About the Author
taken from www.sarahaddisonallen.com
Seven Things About Sarah
1. When I was a kid, I wanted to be a trash man. I would spend hours daydreaming about riding on the back of a garbage truck, jumping off at every house and dumping people's trash into it.
2. I was born and raised in Asheville, North Carolina, a place Rolling Stone magazine once called "America's New Freak Capital."
3. I have my B.A. in Literature, a major I chose because I thought it was amazing that I could get a diploma just for reading fiction. It was like being able to major in eating chocolate.
4. I can't turn away stray cats and I'm convinced they know this.
5. My father was a copy editor, reporter, and award-winning columnist for our local paper.
6. My mother has a nose ring, but we pretend it's not there.
7. Garden Spells, my mainstream debut, didn't start out as a magical novel. It was supposed to be a simple story about two sisters reconnecting after many years. But then the apple tree started throwing apples and the story took on a life of its own... and my life hasn't been the same since.
There's a Lion in My Bathroom! by Giles Paley-Phillips
Rating: BRAG!
by Giles Paley-Phillips
Illustrator: Matt Dawson
Genre: Children's Poetry, Children's Literature, Visual Poetry
Ages: 7 and up
Publication Date: August 2010
Paperback: 112 pages
Press Release
VERDICT
Hilarious, entertaining! There's a Lion in My Bathroom is a fantastic read for all ages! My kids and I can't wait to see what Giles Paley-Phillips comes up with next.
Pleased to know that part of the proceeds are donated to Luekemia and Lymphoma research.
Good Reading,
Sarah :)
by Giles Paley-Phillips
Illustrator: Matt Dawson
Genre: Children's Poetry, Children's Literature, Visual Poetry
Ages: 7 and up
Publication Date: August 2010
Paperback: 112 pages
Press Release
VERDICT
Hilarious, entertaining! There's a Lion in My Bathroom is a fantastic read for all ages! My kids and I can't wait to see what Giles Paley-Phillips comes up with next.
Pleased to know that part of the proceeds are donated to Luekemia and Lymphoma research.
Good Reading,
Sarah :)
Thereʼs A Lion In My Bathroom is a beautiful collection of nonsense poetry by author Giles Paley-Phillips. The book contains a selection of hilarious poems accompanied by striking illustrations by talented new illustrator Matthew Dawson. This book, intended for children, is equally appealing for adults of all ages who have retained their adolescent sense of humour. With a percentage of the profits from the sale of each copy of the book being donated to Leukaemia and Lymphoma Research, whatʼs not to love? Find out why Robin Hood lost an archery competition and how a bullied shark managed to save the day and turn the tables on his bullies.
Giles Paley-Phillips lives in Seaford with this family. He is a doting father and part-time rock star, this collection was obviously written with the intention of making his children smile. Leukaemia and Lymphoma Research is a charity dear to his heart, having sadly lost his mother to the disease when he was six years old.
Illustrator, Matthew Dawson lives in Surrey with his pencils, vast amounts of paper and not enough room for a dog. He works as a graphic designer but has a passion for illustration which is evident in his work, you can see more of his work at http://www.matt-dawson.co.uk/. Released by Rebel Books LLP, a new independent publishing house based in the North West, this is their third publication to date. Dedicated to producing beautiful timeless books for children and young adults, they believe Thereʼs A Lion In My Bathroom is a very special title. Their books are available to order online or through bookshops and you can find out more by visiting www.rebelbookspublishing.co.uk. Thereʼs a Lion in My Bathroom is due for release on 30th August 2010.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
The Scarlet Lion by Elizabeth Chadwick
Rating: BRAG!
by Elizabeth Chadwick
Historical Fiction, British Literature, Romance
Publication Date: December 2006
Hardcover: 592 pages
VERDICT
If you fancy historical fiction and haven't read an Elizabeth Chadwick novel, don't wait any longer! She is truly a master of the genre. I laid siege to this book and wished many times to take a short vacation from my life in order to finish it all at once.
The Scarlet Lion, while certainly a stand-alone novel, is the continuation of The Greatest Knight and William Marshal's life. Elizabeth Chadwick novels include accurate historical details with some ingenious imagination added that fill in the gaps.
Truly Delightful!
Good Reading,
Sarah :)
by Elizabeth Chadwick
Historical Fiction, British Literature, Romance
Publication Date: December 2006
Hardcover: 592 pages
VERDICT
If you fancy historical fiction and haven't read an Elizabeth Chadwick novel, don't wait any longer! She is truly a master of the genre. I laid siege to this book and wished many times to take a short vacation from my life in order to finish it all at once.
The Scarlet Lion, while certainly a stand-alone novel, is the continuation of The Greatest Knight and William Marshal's life. Elizabeth Chadwick novels include accurate historical details with some ingenious imagination added that fill in the gaps.
Truly Delightful!
Good Reading,
Sarah :)
 |
| William Marshal's Effigy - Temple Church, London |
 |
| William Marshal Coat of Arms |
Other Elizabeth Chadwick Novels
The Greatest Knight
The Time of Singing
The Time of Singing
Shadows and Strongholds
To Defy a King
Lords of the White Castle
The Champion
The Marsh King's Daughter
The Wild Hunt
The Winter Mantle
A Place Beyond Courage
Daughters of the Grail
The Running Vixen
Shields of Pride
The Leopard Unleashed
First Knight
Lady of the English
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Rating: BRAG!
The Fearsome Beastie
by Giles Paley-Phillips
Early, Picture Book
Paperback: 32 pages
Publication: May 2011
Verdict
Straight from my 7 year old daughters mouth... "Awesome!" She enjoyed the rhyming words and pictures.
The Fearsome Beastie is a children's picture book with a wonderfully scary tale! The pictures and rhymes bring the art of storytelling to another level.
"Awesome!" = BRAG Book!
Good Reading,
Sarah :)
About the author....
 |
| Giles Paley-Philips is a children's author who also works part-time in a book store. He writes picture book stories and plays in a band called Burnthouse. He was born in 1977 and lives in East Sussex, UKwith his wife, Michelle, and two sons, Elijah and Sonny. |
Now Reading... The Scarlet Lion by Elizabeth Chadwick
The Scarlet Lion
by Elizabeth Chadwick
Historical Fiction, Romance
Publication Date: July 2007
Paperback: 576 pages
Cover Summary
by Elizabeth Chadwick
Historical Fiction, Romance
Publication Date: July 2007
Paperback: 576 pages
Cover Summary
The Legend of the Greatest Knight Lives On
William Marshal's skill with a sword and loyalty to his word have earned him the company of kings, the lands of a magnate, and the hand of Isabelle de Clare, one of England's wealthiest heiresses. But he is thrust back into the chaos of court when King Richard dies. Vindictive King John clashes with William, claims the family lands for the Crown-and takes two of the Marshal sons hostage. The conflict between obeying his king and rebelling over the royal injustices threatens the very heart of William and Isabelle's family. Fiercely intelligent and courageous, fearing for the man and marriage that light her life, Isabelle plunges with her husband down a precarious path that will lead William to more power than he ever expected.
Author's Website
Author's Website
http://www.elizabethchadwick.com/
Excerpt from Chapter One
Fortress of Longueville, Normandy, Spring 1197
Isabelle de Clare, Countess of Leinster and Striguil, wife to King Richard's Marshal, was in labour with their fourth child. "Arse first," announced the midwife, wiping her hands on a length of towel after examining her patient. "Bound to be a boy, they always cause the most trouble." Isabelle closed her eyes and reclined against the piled bolsters. Throughout the morning the contractions had become steadily more frequent and painful. Her women had unbraided her hair so there would be no bindings about her person to tie the baby in the womb, and the thick, wheat-gold strands spilled over shoulders and engorged breasts to touch her mounded belly. "He" was already late. Her husband had hoped to greet his new offspring before setting out to war ten days ago, but instead had had to bid Isabelle farewell with a kiss at arm's length, her pregnant belly like a mountain between them. It was May now. If she survived bearing this child and he lived through the summer's campaign, they would see each other in the autumn. For now, he was somewhere deep in the Beauvaisis with his sovereign, and she was wishing she was anywhere but this stuffy chamber undergoing the ordeal of childbirth. A contraction started low in her spine and tightened across her womb. Pain bloomed through her lower body, causing her to gasp and clench her fists. "Always hurts more when they come tail first." The midwife looked shrewdly at Isabelle. "It's not your first; you know what to expect, but infants that enter the world by their backsides have a dangerous passage. Head comes last and that's not good for the babe. Best pray to the blessed Saint Margaret for her help." She indicated the painted wooden image standing on a coffer at the bedside surrounded by a glow of votive candles. "I have been praying to her every day since I knew I was with child," Isabelle said irritably, not adding that the overdue birth of a baby in the breech position was hardly a happy reward for her devotion. She was coming to abhor the statue. Whoever had carved it had put a sanctimonious expression on its face that fell little short of a smirk. The next contraction wrung her in its grip and with it the urge to push. The midwife signaled to the girl assisting her and busied herself between Isabelle's thighs. "You should summon your chaplain to christen the child, immediately," she announced, her voice muffled by the raised sheet. "Do you have a name?" "Gilbert for a boy, and Isabelle for a girl," Isabelle gritted through her teeth as she bore down. The contraction receded. Slumping against the bolsters she panted at one of her women to fetch Father Walter and have him wait in the antechamber. The next pain seized her, then the next and the next, fierce and hard, no respite now as her body strove to expel the baby from her womb. She sobbed and grunted with effort, tendons cording her throat, her hands gripping those of her attendants hard enough to leave lasting weals on their flesh. There was a sudden gush of wet heat between her thighs and the midwife groped. "Ah," she said with satisfaction. "I was right, it is a boy. Ha-ha, fine pair of hammers on him too! Let's see if we can keep him alive to have use of them, eh? Push again, my lady. Not so fast, not so fast. Go gently now." Isabelle bit her lip and struggled not to push as hard as her instincts dictated. Taking the baby's ankles, tugging gently, the midwife drew his torso up and on to Isabelle's abdomen. As the mouth and nose emerged from the birth canal she wiped them clear of blood and mucus, then, watching intently, controlled the emergence of the rest of the head with a gentle hand. Propped on her elbows, Isabelle stared at the baby lying upon her body like a drowned, shipwrecked sailor. His colour was greyish-blue and he wasn't moving. Panic shot through her. "Holy Saint Margaret, is he...?" The woman lifted the baby by his ankles, swung him gently, and applied a sharp tap to his buttocks, then again. A shudder rippled through him, his little chest expanded, and a wail of protest met the air, uncertain at first, but gathering momentum and infusing his body with a flush of life-giving pink. Righting him, the midwife turned to Isabelle, a smile deepening the creases in her wrinkled cheeks. "Just needed a bit of persuading," she said. "Best have the priest name him though, to be on the safe side." She wrapped him in a warm towel and placed him in Isabelle's arms. The cord having been cut and the afterbirth expelled and taken away for burial, Isabelle gazed into the birth-crumpled features of her newborn son and, still deeply anxious, watched his shallow breathing. A baffled, slightly quizzical frown puckered his brows. His fists were tightly clenched as if to fight the world into which he had been so brutally initiated. "Gilbert," she said softly. "I wonder what your father is going to make of you." She blew softly against his cheek and gave him her forefinger around which to curl his miniature hand. After a moment, she lifted her gaze from the baby and fixed it on her chamber window and the arch of soft blue sky it framed. Her own ordeal was almost over and, God willing, if she did not take the childbed fever, she would soon be on her feet. Saint Margaret could be thanked with an offering and packed away in her coffer again until needed again. Now she would concentrate on prayers for her husband's safety and ask God to bring him home in one piece to greet their new son.
Reading Soon
Devlin Diary by Christi Phillips
Excerpt from Chapter One
Fortress of Longueville, Normandy, Spring 1197
Isabelle de Clare, Countess of Leinster and Striguil, wife to King Richard's Marshal, was in labour with their fourth child. "Arse first," announced the midwife, wiping her hands on a length of towel after examining her patient. "Bound to be a boy, they always cause the most trouble." Isabelle closed her eyes and reclined against the piled bolsters. Throughout the morning the contractions had become steadily more frequent and painful. Her women had unbraided her hair so there would be no bindings about her person to tie the baby in the womb, and the thick, wheat-gold strands spilled over shoulders and engorged breasts to touch her mounded belly. "He" was already late. Her husband had hoped to greet his new offspring before setting out to war ten days ago, but instead had had to bid Isabelle farewell with a kiss at arm's length, her pregnant belly like a mountain between them. It was May now. If she survived bearing this child and he lived through the summer's campaign, they would see each other in the autumn. For now, he was somewhere deep in the Beauvaisis with his sovereign, and she was wishing she was anywhere but this stuffy chamber undergoing the ordeal of childbirth. A contraction started low in her spine and tightened across her womb. Pain bloomed through her lower body, causing her to gasp and clench her fists. "Always hurts more when they come tail first." The midwife looked shrewdly at Isabelle. "It's not your first; you know what to expect, but infants that enter the world by their backsides have a dangerous passage. Head comes last and that's not good for the babe. Best pray to the blessed Saint Margaret for her help." She indicated the painted wooden image standing on a coffer at the bedside surrounded by a glow of votive candles. "I have been praying to her every day since I knew I was with child," Isabelle said irritably, not adding that the overdue birth of a baby in the breech position was hardly a happy reward for her devotion. She was coming to abhor the statue. Whoever had carved it had put a sanctimonious expression on its face that fell little short of a smirk. The next contraction wrung her in its grip and with it the urge to push. The midwife signaled to the girl assisting her and busied herself between Isabelle's thighs. "You should summon your chaplain to christen the child, immediately," she announced, her voice muffled by the raised sheet. "Do you have a name?" "Gilbert for a boy, and Isabelle for a girl," Isabelle gritted through her teeth as she bore down. The contraction receded. Slumping against the bolsters she panted at one of her women to fetch Father Walter and have him wait in the antechamber. The next pain seized her, then the next and the next, fierce and hard, no respite now as her body strove to expel the baby from her womb. She sobbed and grunted with effort, tendons cording her throat, her hands gripping those of her attendants hard enough to leave lasting weals on their flesh. There was a sudden gush of wet heat between her thighs and the midwife groped. "Ah," she said with satisfaction. "I was right, it is a boy. Ha-ha, fine pair of hammers on him too! Let's see if we can keep him alive to have use of them, eh? Push again, my lady. Not so fast, not so fast. Go gently now." Isabelle bit her lip and struggled not to push as hard as her instincts dictated. Taking the baby's ankles, tugging gently, the midwife drew his torso up and on to Isabelle's abdomen. As the mouth and nose emerged from the birth canal she wiped them clear of blood and mucus, then, watching intently, controlled the emergence of the rest of the head with a gentle hand. Propped on her elbows, Isabelle stared at the baby lying upon her body like a drowned, shipwrecked sailor. His colour was greyish-blue and he wasn't moving. Panic shot through her. "Holy Saint Margaret, is he...?" The woman lifted the baby by his ankles, swung him gently, and applied a sharp tap to his buttocks, then again. A shudder rippled through him, his little chest expanded, and a wail of protest met the air, uncertain at first, but gathering momentum and infusing his body with a flush of life-giving pink. Righting him, the midwife turned to Isabelle, a smile deepening the creases in her wrinkled cheeks. "Just needed a bit of persuading," she said. "Best have the priest name him though, to be on the safe side." She wrapped him in a warm towel and placed him in Isabelle's arms. The cord having been cut and the afterbirth expelled and taken away for burial, Isabelle gazed into the birth-crumpled features of her newborn son and, still deeply anxious, watched his shallow breathing. A baffled, slightly quizzical frown puckered his brows. His fists were tightly clenched as if to fight the world into which he had been so brutally initiated. "Gilbert," she said softly. "I wonder what your father is going to make of you." She blew softly against his cheek and gave him her forefinger around which to curl his miniature hand. After a moment, she lifted her gaze from the baby and fixed it on her chamber window and the arch of soft blue sky it framed. Her own ordeal was almost over and, God willing, if she did not take the childbed fever, she would soon be on her feet. Saint Margaret could be thanked with an offering and packed away in her coffer again until needed again. Now she would concentrate on prayers for her husband's safety and ask God to bring him home in one piece to greet their new son.
Reading Soon
Devlin Diary by Christi Phillips
The Peach Keeper by Sarah Addison Allen
The Scottish Rose by Jill Jones
Rating: BRAG!
The Scottish Rose
by Jill Jones
Historical Fiction, Romance
Publication Date: February 1997
Mass Market Paperback: 320 pages
Verdict
Good Reading!
Sarah :)
Publication Date: February 1997
Mass Market Paperback: 320 pages
Verdict
Enchanting! Captivating! I really thought this was going to be a copy cat of Outlander (by Diana Gabaldon). To my pleasant surprise, it was so much more.
Jill Jones entrances the reader with an adventure that mixes love with legends, and transports the main characters back to 17th century Scotland. Beautifully crafted happy ending! I Loved it!
Sarah :)
 |
| Dunnottar Castle, Stonehaven, Scotland |
 |
| The Honours of Scotland, Edinburg Castle |
Rating: BRAG!
Die for Me
(Revenants Series #1)
by Amy Plum
Publication Date: May 2011
Young Adult Fiction, Paranormal Romance
Print: 352 pages
Verdict
Mesmerizing, romantic story set in Paris. Good use of vocabulary for the intended age group. I was a bit disappointed in the ending; I know it is a series, but the ending was sort of blunt. Overall, a terrific read! Amy Plum is a wonderful storyteller and I can't wait for Until I Die (Revenants #2). Keep up the good work, Amy!
Good Reading!
Sarah
Die for Me
(Revenants Series #1)
by Amy Plum
Publication Date: May 2011
Young Adult Fiction, Paranormal Romance
Print: 352 pages
Verdict
Mesmerizing, romantic story set in Paris. Good use of vocabulary for the intended age group. I was a bit disappointed in the ending; I know it is a series, but the ending was sort of blunt. Overall, a terrific read! Amy Plum is a wonderful storyteller and I can't wait for Until I Die (Revenants #2). Keep up the good work, Amy!
Good Reading!
Sarah
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