Title: 223 Bonny Street
Author: Firi Kamson
Genre: Adult, Women's Fiction
Published: March 27, 2016
Set in the south east of Nigeria, 223 Bonny Street is a story about surviving loss, finding your identity and making connections.
After an accident, waking up in another person's body seems like a dream until Ikenna realizes that he is faced with the stark reality of Nkechi’s life, the woman whose body he occupies. He experiences the pain and joy, strength and sacrifices of a woman.
The two of them make a connection beyond the physical, but matters of the heart are delicate. When secrets from the past are revealed, will their connection be strong enough to survive?
“Nkechi! Why did you scare us like that? I have told you, you have to be strong”, the frail looking old woman, who had helped him get up, spoke.
Looking at her again, he tried to remember who she was. “Okay ma”, he replied, whilst still struggling to get to grips with the whole situation. Swallowing his question, sensing that this old lady wasn’t to be questioned by anybody, he remained puzzled.
Looking at the chair he was sitting on, he realised this wasn't his favorite army green reclining chair, where he sat in the evenings watching football, with strict house rules that nobody else was allowed to sit on his chair, not even the president. Turning to his left, he saw a group of men, who looked like they were in their mid forties or early fifties, and what struck him was that they were all wearing black, and they looked his way, speaking amongst themselves.
“Please, what are these men doing”, he asked the young lady who was standing by his side.
Looking at him rather strangely. “They are discussing the burial preparation of Godwin”, she whispered.
“Who is Godwin?” he asked, as he watched the blood drain from her face.
Whispering something he couldn't hear to the old frail looking lady, she turned to him. Taking his hands in hers. “Come with me”, she ordered.
Still not settled after what had happened to him, Ikenna obliged. Allowing himself to be dragged as they walked into a dark room, she switched on the light and shoved him in front of the big standing mirror.
“Look at yourself properly in the mirror, before you ask me that rubbish question again, about Godwin”.
The moment Ikenna looked at the mirror he knew that he must have become mentally deranged. What he was looking at was the face and body of a woman. A woman, who had aged overnight, even though she was relatively young. She was of average height, had a round face, full bosom, but the bottom line was that he was a woman and was pregnant. Turning around, as he looked at the lady, he muttered, “Who is this? Is this a joke?” Glancing at the mirror again, he touched his skin.
Firi Kamson was born in Nigeria, where she grew up. Becoming a lawyer, a writer and a pilot was her childhood dream, she dropped the lawyer part and got a B.A. in foreign languages and literature specialty French. Worked as a freelance translator and a photographer for a couple of years before she decided to explore the creative world of writing. She writes a column for www.sabinews.com, as Tee, an online Nigerian based magazine, where she journals her experiences in South East Asia. The dream of becoming a pilot is still there and who knows one day it would be fulfilled. She lives in South East Asia with her nerdy husband and very active daughter and son. Ere's Secret is her first work.
Recommended for ages 18+ due to strong language and sexual content.
Chloe McCarthy thought she had found the perfect guy. Someone just as detached as she was when it came to love and commitment. Someone who never pressured her for more than just sex. But when she gets a little too comfortable with their arrangement, and he rejects her for someone else, it triggers heartbreaking memories that leave her questioning her resolve for a commitment-free life. In a moment of self-pity, she calls on the one person who she knows will make her smile.
Matt Langston lives a drama-free life, and he wants to keep it that way. Chloe McCarthy? All drama. Which is why he needs to stay away from her. A mechanic by day and bouncer by night, he tries to focus on work, but the more he tries, the more she creeps into his thoughts and his dreams, until he realizes that he needs to get her out of his system once and for all.
The Fragile Line is a spin-off to The Fine Line, told in an addicting three-part romance novella series, with each part building on the last. The series may be read alone, however, reading The Fine Line first will provide a further introduction to the characters which may enhance the overall reading experience
“Is it everything you hoped it would be?” Chloe asked, as I took a bite of the most
delicious bread I have ever tasted.
This bread was so good that the garlicy, buttery, orgasmic
masterpiece of flavor in my mouth forced a long moan out of my throat. “Oh, yeah.”
I mumbled with the bread still in my cheek. “This is fucking incredible.”
The dark wooden table of our window booth was dimly lit by
an overhanging lamp with a red shade.
For a small restaurant, Ricci’s had an inviting, casual atmosphere
complete with old-time Italian music. At
this time of night, there were only a few other diners scattered about. I would imagine the place would be closing up
soon for the evening.
She leaned in and whispered, “What if I told you I know how
to make it?”
That caught my attention…enough to stop chewing. “Don’t tease me, woman.”
She leaned back and huffed in exasperation. “God, why are
you so macho? The name’s Chloe. CH-L-O-EEE.”
I chuckled. “If you
say so. I’ve gotta hear this. How do you know how to make the bread?”
“I dated one of the cooks when I worked here.” She shrugged
and took a bite of bread.
Should’ve known that.
But really? Was that all she was
going to give me? “And…did the recipe
just osmose from his brain to yours on a date?”
She gave me the stink eye.
“I told him I’d only go out with him if he gave me the recipe. So he did.
And we went on a date. And that
was it.”
“Lemme guess. He
wasn’t your type.”
She shook her head.
“I don’t really have a type. I
like variety.”
I nodded with raised brows, keeping my mouth shut about the
fact that she just fed into her promiscuous reputation. Was she doing it on purpose? Did she actually want people to think she was
easy? She seemed okay tonight. Why did part of me want to believe her rep was
BS?
“What about you?” she asked.
“How come I never see you with any girls?”
“I could ask you the same thing. Why no steady boyfriend? You’re sexy as hell. If you dropped the bitch act, you could
easily land some dude if you wanted to.”
There went my word vomit.
So much for keeping my mouth shut.
Luckily, she didn’t seem offended this time.
Instead, she forced out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, just not
the one I want.”
I cocked a brow.
She rolled her eyes and took a sip of her lemonade.
“Maybe it’s not an act,” she continued.
I nodded in thought.
“Or, maybe it is. You seem pretty
cool now. Not clingy or—” What’s a nice
way to say 'easy'? “—overly accessible.
It’s a nice change. You should do
it more often.”
Her face scrunched up.
“Maybe I just don’t like you.”
“Or. Maybe you like
me more than you think.” I winked.
The waiter came with our plates, a Sirloin Marsala for me
and a spaghetti with meatballs for her.
After grating Parmesan cheese over her plate, he asked the typical
waiter question, “Is there anything else I can get for you two?”
I answered instantly, “More bread.”
The kid, who must’ve been fifteen or sixteen, eyed our full
basket of bread, then looked back at me with a quizzical look on his face which
kind of pissed me off. I mean, I
would’ve eaten it all up already if he wouldn’t have been so quick with our
meals. And I wanted leftovers.
“Please,” I said calmly.
“O…kay? I’ll be back
with that in a minute.”
Dipshit.
The steak was even better than the bread. It literally melted in my mouth. Chloe laughed when I moaned again at the
taste, and I smiled, knowing that my mission for the night had just been
accomplished.
We savored our meals quietly for a few minutes before she
broke the silence, continuing our conversation.
“Maybe I’m not interested in anything serious with anyone. Maybe taking what I want and being…less than
nice…is the best way to make sure they don’t get all googly with me.”
“What the hell does ‘googly’ mean?”
“Come on, you know.”
I shook my head no.
“It’s the lovey-dovey look in someone’s eyes. Whether it’s a boy or girl, man or woman, we
all do it. It’s the way someone looks at
you when they want you to think they’re falling for you. They look at you with ‘googly-eyes.’”
“Ha! You seem like an
expert. Maybe your nickname should be
‘heartbreaker.’”
“Yeah, right. I’ve
only gotten that look from one person.
And I’m not the one who did the heart breaking in that situation.”
I nodded in understanding.
It couldn’t have been Logan. He’s
never felt that way about her. My
curiosity piqued. “First love?”
“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
She continued stuffing spaghetti into her face as if this
conversation were over. I cleared my
throat to get her attention. It worked
because she looked up from her plate with a WTF look. “Go on, Pink, spill it. You know you want to.”
She laughed again.
Just a small one, but a laugh nonetheless. It took her another moment before she finally
started to talk.
Alicia Kobishop is a contemporary romance writer who lives in Milwaukee, WI, USA with her husband and two children.
Before trying her hand in writing, she worked her way up in the field of administrative healthcare with experiences ranging from working within a large local healthcare organization, to smaller independent physician practices.
In early 2013 her life took a change of course when she re-evaluated her passions in life, and sought out to try many new things. She reclaimed her childhood passion for reading, and after reading tons of fictional novels in a short amount of time, and loving every moment of it, she became absorbed with the idea of taking her experience with books to the next level, and decided to write one. Nine months later, her debut novel, The Fine Line was published.
Alicia loves connecting with readers. Feel free to reach out to her through email or social media.
Book Title: ASCENDERS: High School for the Recently Departed (Ascenders Saga)
Author: CL Gaber
Genre: YA/NA Romance/Paranormal
Release Date: April 12, 2016
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
Is this Hell or is this High School?
THE ASCENDERS Takes You To the In-between Where Teens Who Died Young Go On the Epic Adventure of an After-Lifetime
Walker Callaghan doesn't know what happened to her. One minute she was living her teenage life in suburban Chicago...and the next minute, she was in a strange place and in a brand new school with absolutely no homework, no rules, and no consequences.
Walker Callaghan, 17, is dead.
She doesn't go to heaven or hell. She lands at The Academy, a middle realm where teenagers have one thing in common: They were the morning announcement at their high schools because they died young.
These high school kids are now caught in a strange “in-between” zone where life hasn’t changed very much. In fact, this special teen limbo looks a lot like life in a quaint Michigan town complete with jocks, popular girls and cliques. "There are even cheerleaders in death," Walker observes. It's not a coincidence that the music teacher is a guy named Kurt who "used to have this band." The drama teacher, Heath, is crush worthy because back in his life, he starred in some superhero movie.
Principal King explains the rules -- there are none. Why? You can't die twice.
There is no homework.
No tests.
No SATS.
You're just there to learn because the human brain isn't fully formed until you're 24.
By the way, you can't get hurt physically, so race your Harley off that hillside. But falling in love is the most dangerous thing you can do ...because no one knows how long you'll stay in this realm or what's next.
"Losing someone you love would be like dying twice," Walker says.
* * * * * *
Walker Callaghan has just arrived at the Academy after a tragic car accident. “Is this hell or is this high school?” she asks.
She finds out her new life is a bit of both as she falls in love with tat-covered, bad boy Daniel Reid who is about to break the only sacred rule of this place. He's looking for a portal to return back to the living realm.
He needs just one hour to retrieve his younger brother who strangely never arrived at The Academy. Bobby is an Earth Bound Spirit, stuck at a plane crash site that took both of their lives as their rich father piloted his private jet nose-first into a cornfield on Christmas Eve.
Walker loves Daniel and risks it all to go with him.
Have they learned enough to outsmart dangerous forces while transporting a young child with them? Can their love survive the fragmented evil parts of themselves that are now hunting them down as they try to find a way back to the middle?
At the Academy, you learn the lessons of an after-lifetime.
Resch Reads:
One word to describe this book is EPIC. Sheer writing brilliance.”
Amazon: “A new ‘Twilight Zone’ of a world. Speaking of Uncle Stevie, otherwise known as Stephen King, ‘Ascenders’ reads like something he might have written back in the Twilight Zone of his own youth. I love Koontz and King and haven’t been this excited about an author in a long time.”
Author Groupies: “If you’re a fan of dystopian epics, this bring a whole new element to the genre: the afterlife. I loved this book. What an original concept! Constantly changing, riveting and thought-provoking.”
Amazon: “The next big book series. Powerful and beautiful. I was so moved by this book that I actually cried, tears streaming down my face. Five minutes later, I was cheering. I felt like I had just seen a movie.”
Mugglenet, The #1 Harry Potter Site: “Ascenders is one of those books that stays on your mind for days after reading it. Though you continue your days, your mind keeps wandering back to the main characters, the overarching theme, and of course, the scenarios of what could possibly happen next. I finished this novel within the span of two days, and I wish that I could start over and read the whole thing again. “
Mugglenet: “Walker and Daniel are incredibly believable and realistic. Walker is a strong female character that isn’t afraid to fight for what she loves. Daniel, while having a hard, cold exterior, is actually soft underneath it all and incredibly loving. C.L. Gaber did an excellent job describing the setting and places. I felt like I was right there. The dead celebrity appearances kept me on my toes.”
Mugglenet: “I can’t wait to read the second book. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I was so excited about a book.”
Amazon: The story is so amazing, and completely unique, I have never read anything like this or that will compare to this. I would rank this up there in my top reads of 2015. The tail is enchanting and I fell in love with Daniel and his family and I wanted to be best friends with Walker, this was the book that kept giving. Perfect storytelling!
The Pen and the Muse: Ascenders by C.L. Gaber was an utterly refreshing, original, and an un-put-down-able read. This book was brimming with emotions, feels, and had a striking story line that kept you glued to your e-reader. I was completely mesmerized with the characters and their journey of the "in between." With a concept so unique, Ms. Gaber had her readers totally invested with the story of Walker and Daniel. Be prepared to get spell-blinded and fall in love with this beautiful and enchanting story.
Booknerds: “I was completely absorbed in the Ascenders world. It’s an insanely creative world. AMAZING, AMAZING concept and characters. Daniel and Walker had great chemistry. Daniel is everything a male lead should be. Total crush material. He walks that line of bad boy and sweetheart. Walker was one hell of a strong female character. She was intelligent, quick witted, charming and a bad ass in the best possible way.”
I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I wanted to slap him again, but I was too busy running my hands all over myself. I had no idea why I was still breathing or talking or looking at this asshole as if he were some sort of lunatic, which is exactly what he was . . . a lunatic who just stood there looking gravely concerned and even a little bit sad.
Nothing seemed weird or broken on me, except I was soaking wet standing in the snow and not shivering one bit. I knew my mom was going to kill me for coming home drenched. But first I had to send my new music-class buddy off to the men in white coats.
“Yeah, we’re all dead inside. Teenage agony. All the pain. Being this age sucks,” I ranted, taking one step closer to him to look into his eyes for some clue that he was just kidding—a mean, kidding, maniac who almost let a girl drown right in front of him. No Boy Scout points for that one, jerk ass.
“No, you’re dead—inside, outside, upside-down dead,” he said, looking hard into my face where I’m sure the only thing he saw was my utter disbelief.
I made a mental note to tell my mother that we were packing up and moving back to Chicago first thing in the morning. Whatever these people up here had could be contagious.
“You need a shrink.” He only smiled sadly. Then he did the one thing I couldn’t possibly see coming. He pulled off his jacket,
yanked off his shirt, scooped me up in his arms, and walk-raced toward the spot where I had fallen into the freezing pond. I could almost swear that his boots had turned into blades and he was setting some speed-skating record on that lake of doom. The oppressive black night sky minus a moon or any stars made his face look dark and formidable.
“So, you’re the kind who needs proof—just like me. I’d say kindred spirits, but that would be a really bad joke,” he said. Looking down, I could see that I was hovering above the hole where I had landed in the lake just moments ago.
“You wouldn’t!” I shouted as we teetered above the rushing water only inches below us. “If you do this and we live . . . then I will kill you!” I announced in a calm voice.
“Famous last words,” he said with a half smile. “I prefer, Remember the Alamo!”
As his words rang through the night, he bent his knees and jumped hard into the air, landing both of us in deep freeze. The splash was epic, and so were my last words. “You are so dead,” I mouthed.
The great splash began with a loud roar and then it settled into an even louder nothingness. My heart began to pound because this time I didn’t even have a moment to catch my breath, but I knew enough now to conserve what little oxygen I had inside my lungs. It was more of a reflex when I reached wide for both of his shoulders, which were rock-hard; I held on with the tightest grip possible. For what seemed like five minutes, we just floated underneath this chilled-out amusement park.
When my eyes cleared a bit under the murky darkness, I could see that Daniel was smiling in a way that made his eyes crinkle at the corners, which made him devastatingly handsome. On the inside of his arms, near his biceps, I could see tattoos that read, JENNA, ANDY, PETER . . . and BOBBY. Who was Bobby? And then there was a strange tree tat that started on his right wrist, the thick trunk looking half-dead and black as it raced up his arm and past his thick bicep. Curiously, the closer the tree climbed to his shoulder, it came alive with supple summer leaves that were wide-open and vibrant green. They cascaded on thin braches lushly onto his shoulder and then seemed to multiply past that area as they rained halfway down his chiseled back like falling stars.
Under this water—that should have turned me into a human ice cube, but actually felt warmer now—I didn’t have time to memorize it all because Daniel shocked me again when he reclined all the way back like he was a human raft. It was a reflex when I settled
onto his chest as if I was riding on him. Our bodies fit into the right grooves like puzzle pieces. His hands settled on my hips and our faces were only inches apart as we sunk much deeper into the dark abyss.
A moment later, his body disappeared and I began to plummet down into what seemed like a bottomless pit. That’s when I felt his right hand grab my wrist and hoist me hard into protective arms. When we were face to face in the drink, I watched his look of concern fade into what was mischievous wonder. At that moment, he took his hand, placed it on top of my head, and dunked me as if we were two kids playing some sort of game in the deep end of our community pool.
Only one thought went through my mind: Revenge. He moved like a human eel, too fast to catch, easily slipping out of my grasp.
Time passed slowly as I tried to calculate the minutes we were under the water. One. Two. Three. Ten. Finally, I saw a finger that motioned me to swim after it. Given no other choice, I obeyed, blinking my eyes twice when I saw what seemed like just a vision, but it was real. A brand-new murky figure had swum up next to us and I stifled a scream; but it wasn’t a prehistoric swamp creature. It was Daniel’s kid brother, Peter, who was now underwater and having a grand time of it. He bypassed us to grab his younger sisters who were also swimming near us and were engaged in a watery wrestling match.
With a thick roof-like plank of ice overhead, but posing no real concern, Peter did a breaststroke near me and then mouthed words I could easily read, but couldn’t believe at the same time.
“Marco Polo,” he taunted, opening his mouth and drinking a big gulp of water. Then he rubbed his belly as in, “Man, that was tasty.”
At that point, I just closed my eyes and waited for the world to go black. When I realized I hadn’t moved an inch underwater in what seemed like ages, I wondered if I would just freeze in place like some sort of teenage mermaid on her last swim. My mind was racing, but my body was in absolutely no distress. Placing my hand over my heart, I felt it beating ba-dum-ba-dum-ba-dum in a resoundingly normal way. How? Why? Without any answers, Daniel grabbed for my free hand and yanked me to his side where we swam under the ice until we could see the night sky drifting through the open hole.
The suction of the water was great as we shot like human darts to the surface. I found myself in his arms once again, and then gingerly deposited back on land in a nice, fluffy snow bank. Around us, the wind whipped in our faces, but I wasn’t freezing cold; despite the fact that I was soaking wet and probably in some sort of shock or in the middle of a really bad dream. “I’m out, angel. The rest is up to you to find out,” Daniel said, wrenching his shirt back on before shrugging into his jacket and shaking water droplets off his face in one animalistic movement.
“You’re out—of what? The rest—of what?” I said in an exhausted voice as he picked up his backpack and shoved mine into my arms.
“The rest of everything,” he said, walking away from me. There was no choice but to stand up and follow him.
We walked home in total silence. One foot and then another. It was dream walking. Until I thought I heard Daniel grumble something about reaching my front step, which didn’t look the least bit familiar.
“Jenna, stop needling your sister,” he yelled to the girls tromping behind us and then stopped for a moment to reign in Peter who was now throwing hard-packed snowballs at both of them. Then he turned to me and pointed to a red front door. Obviously, it was mine. “Home sweet home, princess of the sea,” he said.
I stepped onto the porch, but before I opened my front door I gathered the courage to ask him one more time, in a voice that wasn’t much above a whisper.
“Dead in what way?” I demanded. “Dead, as in socially dead? Dead as in DOA, when it comes to having friends in this town? Dead as in dead to you? Which is what I should be because I plan on never speaking to you ever again—after you let me drown twice.”
“No, just plain dead-dead, Callaghan,” Daniel said with a little smile as if he got my sense of humor and appreciated it for some strange reason. “You’re standing here bitching me out, which means, for purposes of historical accuracy, that you haven’t drowned – and you’re still speaking to me.”
“I hate it when I’m right,” he said.
“You’re an idiot,” I told him, continuing my rant. “And who told you that I was dead? Did you read about in the newspaper or was it on the local news? Did it make the CNN crawl?”
“The fruit appreciation teacher told me,” Daniel said in a cautious voice. “He’s the only one who has . . . universal Internet access for all time. Don’t ask me how he arranged it, but he covered that one before he even arrived,” Daniel said.
“He told you what?” I demanded, still occasionally checking for signs of brain damage from being under for so long. While half listening to Daniel, I began to recite the French national anthem that I had learned French 101 class. The words came easily in both English and French. Let’s go children of the fatherland, the day of glory has arrived.
“Are you even listening to me?” Daniel demanded and I snapped out of it for a moment, quite certain that all my brain cells were indeed intact. “If you’re listening, it’s something Steve showed me; something he reads about every new student before they arrive. He printed it out for me since we’re neighbors. But I don’t think this is a good idea because you already know too much for your second day.”
“Second day where?” I demanded. “There are actual rules for your second day in Michigan? Did someone forget to give me the guidebook?”
“Michigan!” he said in an astonished voice. “I’ve never heard this place called Michigan!”
“It’s not Michigan?” I demanded. “This isn’t Michigan,” Daniel said.
“Just read this damn thing,” he insisted, pulling a piece of paper from his backpack and shoving it into my hand. For a moment, my heart actually did stop in a way that made the icy lake seem like a swim in soothing tropical waters.
It’s not every day that you stand on your front porch, ready to go eat dinner and do some homework, but first you must do one more annoying thing: read your own obituary.
CL GABER is the author of ASCENDERS and the sequel ASCENDERS: SKYPUNCH (Book Two).
She is also a journalist writing about film and television for the New York Times Syndicate.
CL lives in Nevada with her husband Ron, bonus daughter Sabrina and two unruly dogs. You can reach her at CLGaber@Yahoo.com
Playing the Game, Derek Backhard by Shawnte Borris
Release Date: March 30, 2016
Genre: Romance
Tour Dates: March 30, 2016
Since being drafted by the NHL to play for his home team at age nineteen, Derek Backhard has had everything he's ever dreamed of - unrivaled MVP mentions, countless goals and assists, even being compared to the great one. Holding the power to control his future in the palm of his hands, nothing stood in his way.
Until the unthinkable happened, and everything about his life shifted. Past priorities fell away the moment he held baby Ryder in his arms mere moments after losing his close friend, and Ryder's father, Brad.
After weeks of watching Liz fall apart over the loss of her husband as she struggled to adjust to life as a single parent, Derek vows to give her and Ryder everything they deserve, creating a life he never knew he always wanted.
Rocked to her core by her changing feelings for him, Liz doesn’t know what to do with Derek or his offer. Uncertainty swirls within her as she leans on her lifelong friend during the hard times, but how much of his attention is real, and how much is pity?
Is she strong enough to let him in and let him take care of her, or will she force him away and back into the life she thinks he really wants?
Shawnte is an international bestselling romance author with her Falling for Bentley series. She hales from central Alberta, Canada. Where she is a mother of two and co-owns a cow/calf operation with her husband of twelve years. As much as she fusses about farming, she enjoys the rural living lifestyle it offers.
When Shawnté is not sitting at her kitchen table hammering away on her laptop while watching the moose chase her cows across the yard, yes this really happens. Then she is busy attend school activities, community events and chauffeuring children here and there. She is big on playing softball and watching hockey.
When the time comes to relax, you will find her snuggled underneath her down comforter reading on her Ipad. Wait…who are we kidding, if the dishes, vacuuming, laundry or the bathrooms needs a hose down, you’ll always hear her say, “Just after this chapter.” She doesn’t have a favorite author or best story because everyday she falls in love with someone new.
You will find Shawnte on Facebook, Twitter and TSU. Please go like her page and leave a review/star rating on the books she’s wrote that you fell in love with.
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