Give Your Heart a Break by Helen Peterson (Virtual Book Release Day Blitz Event / Contest Giveaway)

In association with Chick Lit Plus Blog Tours, Jersey Girl Book Reviews is pleased to host the virtual book release day blitz event for Give Your Heart a Break by Author Helen Peterson!

Release Day

Book Spotlight

Give Your Heart a Break by Helen Peterson

Publisher: Marching Ink

Publication Date: December 23, 2014

Format: eBook - 201 pages

             Kindle - 390 KB

             Nook - 252 KB

ASIN: B00RB23M8W

BNID: 2940150199583

Genre: Chick Lit 

BUY THE BOOK: Give Your Heart a Break

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Book Description:

Gorgeous? Check.

Wealthy? Check.

Sweet? Double check.

When Rachel Thomas meets Mason Conner, it seems she has found a man who is everything she’s ever wanted. After years of the single girl life in New York City, she’s due for some luck in the romance department. But with her less than stellar track record, Rachel can’t seem to let go of her past failures to fall too hard.

That is until Mason’s ex-fiancé reappears, determined to steal him back. With more than winning Mr. Perfect’s heart on the line, is Rachel finally ready to give her heart a break?

About The Author

Helen Peterson is a native of Toronto, Canada who went to college to pursue Marketing . She currently works at a bank as an administrative assistant but her love of writing and telling stories that others can relate to has helped her complete her first manuscript Give Your Heart a Break. Helen has always loved telling a story especially through song, Staring in all her high school musical theatre productions Like Oliver! And Anything Goes. Helen currently resides in Markham, Ontario.


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Book Release Day Blitz Event

 Give Your Heart a Break by Helen Peterson ~ Book Release Day Blitz Event

Event Participants:

Chick Lit Goddess
Jersey Girl Book Reviews
Polished and Bubbly
Samantha March
The Little Reading Cabin
Grace Snoke
Chick Lit Plus

Reflections by Jena Baxter (Book Spotlight)

In association with Pump Up Your Book, Jersey Girl Book Reviews is pleased to host the virtual book tour event for Reflections by Author Jena Baxter!

Book Spotlight

Reflections by Jena Baxter

Publisher: Independent Self Publishing / Jenabaxterbooks

Publication Date: October 31, 2013

Format: Paperback - 342 pages

             Kindle - 3613 KB

             Nook - 386 KB

ISBN:  978-0991167715

ASIN: B00GD1DNTA

BNID: 2940045412667

Genre: YA / Historical Fantasy

BUY THE BOOK: Reflections

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Book Description:

When Juliette has a domestic servant beaten for pursuing a young man above her station, she finds herself cursed by a witch to live in a world behind her own mirror. She is unable to leave except on the first night of a full moon.

Juliette is forced to seek what food and shelter the new world provides with the help of a unicorn, a man who is half bear, and a centaur. Together they struggle to survive against lions, wolves, and the challenges of watching their friends live and die through the back of the mirror, as their own world, family and friends moves on without them.

Reflections begins in Regency era London, and ends in Clover Springs, California, an all but abandoned Gold Rush town.

A tale of love, friendship, and facing unavoidable challenges.


Book Excerpt:

“Have a heart that never hardens, and a temper that never tires, and a touch that never hurts.” --Charles Dickens

Chapter 1 

London, England. 1807

Juliette shut the front door behind her, and slowly climbed down the stairs of her home, cringing at every creek of the steps. She walked down the paved road, back straight and chin up, until the house was out of view. She looked around, pulled off her bonnet, and ran all the way to the beach.

Stopping to catch her breath, she scanned the riverbank until she spotted Emily, gazing into the clouds above the Thames. It was a gray and dreary day, but a fisherman stood in the water trying to entice the fish, and a few people were scattered along the shoreline. Sea birds flew back and forth, seeking a tasty morsel. Juliette joined Emily, and sat in the scrub.

“It took you a long time to get here,” Emily said, smiling.

“Sorry, it’s my birthday and mother is hosting a party tonight. I had to sneak out of the house, but no one saw me. Then I ran all the way here.”

Emily shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.” She held out her arm, and opened her hand. “I made this for you.”
Juliette took the hair pin with a tattered yellow ribbon tied in a bow attached to it.

Emily’s cheeks colored. “Sorry it’s not new.”

Juliette hugged her. “It’s wonderful. Thank you. I have to go back now, before they notice me gone,” she said, pushing the pin carefully into her hair.

“Okay, I’ll go with you. How old are you today?”

Juliette smiled. “I’m six years old,” she said, as they made their way back to the road. “How old are you?”

“Seven, since last month.” She ran dirty hands down her tattered and stained black dress.

“Look!” Juliette stopped, and pointed toward the water.

Emily followed the direction of her finger. “Oh! What a beautiful chestnut horse.”

Juliette shook her head, ringlets blowing in the wind. “No, it’s not a horse. It’s a unicorn sighting for my birthday.” She continued walking toward the road.

“But unicorns aren’t real,” Emily said, looking back at the animal.

“How do you know they aren’t real? That horse has a black horn. Trust me, that’s a unicorn.”

They stepped onto the dirt road.

“I’ll race you there!” Juliette yelled.

Laughing, they ran until they found Mrs. Barrows waiting at the front door of Juliette’s home. Juliette went silent and ran to her mother. Emily stopped in the road.

“Where have you been? Look at your hair, it’s a mess … and what is that ugly thing sticking out of it?”

Mrs. Barrows swiped the pin off Juliette’s head. She winced as strands of her hair fell with the ribbon to the ground.

Juliette followed her mother’s eyes as she glared at Emily, standing on the road.

“What have I told you about spending your time with people like that, Juliette? That girl has no business talking to you, and you have no business playing with our domestic help.”

“But she’s not our domestic help, Mother.”

“The girl is as good as employed by this household with her aunt Zylphia, working here.”

“I don’t want to see you with her again. Do you understand me? What if someone saw you?” Mrs. Barrows shrieked. “You embarrass the entire family associating with people like that, Juliette. Get in the house!”

Juliette jumped when the door slammed shut behind her.

Juliette picked up a glass of punch and sat with the children attending the party. She watched her mother laugh and sip tea with her guests. The children chattered beside her, she ignored them. Her mother had made it clear that the only reason she hadn’t received a strapping was so she could sit down at the party. Juliette struggled with the sting of tears, holding them back, but just barely.

Margaret sashayed over, and stood with her hands on her hips. She always has something to say about everything. Juliette frowned, waiting. All of the children stared at her.

“I heard you were playing with a servant girl today. Robert Beale said he saw you running and laughing on the road like it was the most normal thing in the world. You’re liable to get a disease spending your time with something like that.”

“It’s not your business, Margaret. I’ll spend time with whomever I want.”

“Suit yourself, but I don’t want any part of that, or you.” Margaret lifted her chin and joined the other children.

Juliette turned to see her mother, who had been just out of view. Her knuckles white as the dish she held.

“Go to your room, Juliette.”

Tears spilled down Juliette’s cheeks. She tried to think of something to say, but couldn’t. She ran to her room.

Minutes later the razor-strap slammed into her bare buttocks. The humiliation of knowing the party heard her screams was part of her punishment. When the governess finished, she had been instructed to return Juliette to the party where she remained until the last guest departed.

Her mother turned to her. “Get to your room. I don’t want to see your face again tonight.”

Juliette obeyed moving much slower than before. Her bottom and the back of her legs stung with welts. She crawled onto the bed, and wept into her pillow.


Ten Years Later

Juliette grunted, eyebrows narrowed as Emily tightened the laces on her corset, pulling her breasts straight and high. She slipped the heavily embroidered bodice on each arm, then smoothed the fabric with her hands. When she was finished, she bowed her head, and backed out of the room.

Juliette moved right and left, twisting at the waist to admire herself in the mirror. She was wearing her favorite dress, white embroidered muslin, with a gathered bust, tiers of ruffles at the bottom, and long sleeves with small puffy shoulders.

“I’ll be ready to go in five minutes, Emily,” Juliette called, from her bedroom door. “Be sure to get a basket from the kitchen.”

That girl always has her head in the clouds. Let’s see, all I need now is … she fumbled through a small grey hatbox on the bureau … a head dress. Juliette turned back to the mirror, pushing the comb through her hair to hold the head dress in place. When her ensemble was finished she smiled. Perfect. She looked good, but the sun was streaming through her bedroom window and the layers of the shift and petticoat were already making her hot.

Rushing down the stairs, underskirts rustling with every movement, the wooden planks creaked with every step. She called for Emily, and found her at the bottom, putting on her plain white bonnet. The picnic basket sat on the floor beside her scuffed black shoes. Juliette’s mother stood at a table near the hearth, brown ringlet curls hanging perfectly down her back, her deceptively warm brown eyes belying the severity of her anger. She threw some coins into a small purse. Ignoring Emily, Juliette went straight to her mother, and held out her hand. Mrs. Barrows dropped the beaded, pink and yellow purse into it.

“It is absolutely absurd,” Mrs. Barrows said louder than she needed to. “That I should have to send my own daughter to buy what is needed because of dishonest servants. My husband pays a generous wage. You have no reason to steal from us or anyone else. All of your salaries will be fined a farthing. Not just this time, but every time I send Juliette to the market.”

She turned back to Juliette. “Don’t be late, darling. The dressmaker needs to take some measurements for a new dress,” Mrs. Barrows said, fingering some of the new materials she had purchased, sitting on the back of a pink and white sofa.

Juliette grinned as her mother kissed her cheeks.

“Don’t worry, Mother. I won’t be long.”

Juliette walked out the door with Emily trailing behind her.

Juliette closed her eyes at the bright morning sunshine. She crinkled her nose and opened them again at the smell of fresh baked bread. There were vendors with carts selling household goods and colorful linens, and a cobbler had a table set up along the street. A woman with chubby cheeks and braided corn silk hair, sold flowers of every color, and across the road a young boy knelt, breeches tight, as he shined the shoes of a man in a brown suit and hat. A black carriage drove through the village square, horse hooves clip clopping on grey and brown cobblestones.

Emily cried out and crashed into Juliette. Juliette pushed her away, then slapped her without a thought. A thin young man with dark hair, brown eyes, and the longest eyelashes Juliette had ever seen jumped in front of Emily. Emily’s hand rested on the angry red mark forming on her right cheek, and she was weeping. Juliette smoothed her skirt mumbling under her breath. I am going to kill her when we get home. The stupid little sheep.

“Please excuse us, Jonathan, this fool of a girl--“

Jonathan’s hands waved back and forth. “No, Miss Barrows. Please, I am sorry. The fault was my own, not the servant girl’s.”

Juliette smiled. “This one is inept and bumbling at times.”

Jonathan reached into his bag and pulled out a muslin pouch. He held the contents in front of Juliette. “Turkish Delight. Would you like one? A small offering to make up for the trouble I caused.”

Juliette’s smile lit up her face. “Yes, thank you.” She chose a red square powdered with sugar from the pouch.

Jonathan held the bag out to Emily. Juliette’s eyes flashed. What is he doing? Why is he even speaking to her? She’s a servant! Emily shook her head back and forth, then looked away. Jonathan held them closer.

“Please, I insist.”

With a trembling hand, Emily took one, but before she could eat the sweet, Juliette pointed to the basket.

“We need to go. I have an appointment this afternoon.” The courtesy was a show for Jonathan’s sake. She would take care of Emily at home. “If you’ll excuse us Jonathan, we really must be on our way. Thank you for the sweetmeats.”

Juliette purchased the potatoes and carrots Cook required, the dirty-faced farmer extended his thanks, and she turned to see Jonathan smiling at Emily. The girl looked away, but not before her cheeks colored. Juliette had had enough. She grabbed Emily’s arm.

“Good day, Jonathan.”

Juliette had never been so embarrassed in her life. A servant girl! And one that was stumbling all over the place. What was he thinking? No! What was she thinking?

Juliette stormed up wooden steps and through the door without waiting for Emily to open it. “Mother!”

Emily wept openly.

“Emily was flirting with Mrs. Walsh’s son. She even received a gift from him.”

Mrs. Barrow’s porcelain face darkened, and her fingers clutched the folds of her dress as Juliette recounted the story. Moments later, Juliette’s mother grabbed Emily’s arm and pulled her to the Governess’ room. A heavyset woman in a plain black dress and long white apron, her brown hair tucked beneath her bonnet, sat at an old oak desk looking grim. The room was modest, with only a narrow bed, and a plain wooden bureau against the opposite wall. The only color was a handmade quilt the woman had made for herself, and a full-length blue dress hanging in a tiny closet.

Agnes stood when Mrs. Barrows entered the room, and stared at Emily, blue eyes icy cold. The Governess opened a drawer, and pulled out the razor strap used for disciplining the household.

Emily’s sobs grew louder, her eyes wide. She grimaced, shaking her head frantically.

“No,” Emily whined, looking at the thick leather with three long flexible straps. “No, please.” Her sobs grew louder still as the Governess dragged her out the door to a wooden shed.

Juliette’s mother smiled as Emily began to scream incoherently. Standing by the new material, they heard the whack of leather meeting the flesh of Emily’s bare backside.

Juliette fingered the soft new pink and yellow fabrics, frowning. I’m not fond of yellow. Mother knows that.

“Emily will be indisposed for a while, Mother. Could you send Bessie up, please? I really need to freshen up before we leave.”

“Of course, dear.”

Juliette bustled up the stairs, hands clutching her skirt, listening to Emily scream. That’s too bad. She won’t be flirting or accepting treats from boys above her station anymore. But she shivered inwardly. Juliette knew well what it meant to be on the receiving end of that strap. She had been beaten for spending time with Emily when they were girls. Juliette was younger then, and hadn’t understood how important it was not to entertain people below her station. She knew better now. Emily wouldn’t be able to sit for a week. Perhaps then she would learn her lesson and not entertain people above her station.

Juliette entered her room, letting the door shut behind her, and took off her head dress.

Bessie entered the bedroom, picked up the brush and pulled it through Juliette’s curls. Her hands trembled and she winced at every thwack of the strap on, Emily’s, bared flesh. At one point she wiped a tear from her eye. Juliette smiled, and ignored her.

Zylphia dusted a lampshade trimmed with burgundy roses. She had already gone over the end tables and swept the floors. She tucked runaway strands of brown hair under her already loose bun, and saw something smeared on the wall. Emily walked in, concealing her face, and staring at the floor.

Zylphia motioned with her hands as she spoke. “Emily, go get me a cleaning cloth for the wall. Bessie will get one for you. They’re in the kitchen.”

Emily nodded her acknowledgement to the floor, stiffly leaving the room. Zylphia stared after her. What is wrong with her today? Emily had always been a shy girl. She was quiet, but that was expected of a domestic servant. You did what you were told, bowed and backed out of the room as quiet as you could, hoping that no one would hear you. These things had never been a problem for her niece. That was why Zylphia had brought her here. She got along with everyone, was quiet, kept her own counsel, and took her work seriously.

Emily returned with the cloth. Zylphia watched her shuffle across the room.

“Why are you walking like that? Come here.”

Emily’s speed picked up. She whined and winced, until she slowed down. She gave Zylphia the towel.

“What is wrong with you? Look at me when I talk to you, girl!”

Emily looked up. Zylphia saw chocolate brown eyes, similar to her own, except they were red, sad, and swollen. Her brown hair was a tangled mess. She took Emily’s hand.

“Come with me.”

Emily obeyed, but wept all the way to, Zylphia’s, bedroom. Zylphia removed Emily’s white apron, and black uniform dress. Zylphia gasped, fire red welts blistered, and covered Emily’s buttocks and the back of her legs.

“Who did this to you?”

Emily told Zylphia about the boy at the marketplace, the candy, and Juliette’s anger. “I tried to say no, but he insisted.” Tears fell down already swollen cheeks. “I t-tried to s-s-say no. I didn’ know what t-to do.”

Heat flushed through Zylphia. She pulled a jar of ointment from under her mattress, and slathered it over Emily’s welts. The response was immediate. Zylphia couldn’t take away the welts, that would have been too obvious, but the swelling went down, and the redness faded. Emily shuddered, then sighed with relief.

“It’s over now.” And I’m going to make certain it won’t happen again. “Go back to work. It’s alright.”

“What are you going to do? Please don’t curse her Aunt Zylphia. We were friends once. She even gave me a doll when we were small.”

“Juliette isn’t the person you used to know, child. She’s grown to be callous, and cruel. Trust me to know what to do. She needs to pay for what she’s done. You need to help in the kitchen. Now go.”

Emily looked skeptical, but did what she was told.

“Why can’t I take Bessie?” Juliette demanded. “I don’t want that insolent girl anywhere near me.”

“I’m sure you don’t, darling, but Bessie has chores to do for your father. The only other servant I can send with you right now is Zylphia.”

“I don’t want Zylphia.” Juliette stomped her foot. “She’s not normal.” That one hardly knows her station, and the way she looks at me is frightening sometimes. I don’t trust her. “Mother!”

“That’s enough, Juliette. Take both if you choose, but Bessie cannot go.”

“Emily! Zylphia! Get down here. Now!”

Moments later, Emily and Zylphia entered the room.

About The Author

Born in Ojai, and raised in the San Fernando Valley, California, Jena Baxter always loved to read, and dreamed of writing a novel. Having the ability, but lacking the confidence to do so, she enrolled in the UCLA Writer’s Extension, and soon her first novel was in process.

Jena writes YA, historical fantasy, and paranormal romance. She is also a screenwriter, and reads for a screenwriting contest annually. She spends her free time with her husband, amazon parrot, and toy maltese. You can visit her website at www.jenabaxter.com.


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Book Trailer Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kDUm-9IDiN8

Virtual Book Tour

 Reflections by Jena Baxter ~ Virtual Book Tour Page

Tour Schedule:

Monday, December 1 Literarily Speaking – Book Spotlight
Tuesday, December 2 Hopelessly Devoted Bibliophile – Book Spotlight
Wednesday, December 3 Mythical Books – Book Spotlight
Thursday, December 4 The Story Behind The Book – Author Guest Post
Thursday, December 4 Read My First Chapter – Book Excerpt
Friday, December 5 Sit Back And Get Cozy – Book Review
Monday, December 8 The Writer’s Life – Author Interview
Tuesday, December 9 The Literary Nook – Book Spotlight
Wednesday, December 10 Just Reviews – Book Spotlight
Thursday, December 11 As The Page Turns – Author Interview
Friday, December 12 Lita’s Book Blog – Book Review
Monday, December 15 Readalot – Book Spotlight
Tuesday, December 16 Beyond The Books – Book Spotlight
Wednesday, December 17 The Book Rack – Book Spotlight
Thursday, December 18 Pimp That Character – Character Interview
Friday, December 19 My Life, Loves and Passion – Book Review
Monday, December 22 3 Partners in Shopping, Nana, Mommy, & Sissy, Too! – Book Review
Tuesday, December 23 Jersey Girl Book Reviews – Book Spotlight
Friday, December 26 CBY Book Club – Book Spotlight
Monday, December 29 Bound 2 Escape – Book Spotlight
Tuesday, December 30 Book Reviews From A Christian Gal – Book Review
Friday, January 2 Nay’s Pink Bookshelf – Book Review

Fairy Tale in New York by Nicky Wells (Author Interview / Book Review)

In association with Author Nicky Wells, Jersey Girl Book Reviews is pleased to host the virtual book tour event for Fairy Tale in New York!

Author Interview

Before we get to the interview, can you tell our readers a little bit about yourself.

Hiya Kathleen, and big thanks for hosting me today! It’s a pleasure to be here. So, a little bit about me… My name is Nicky Wells, and I love romance, rock music, lobsters, and cake. When I’m not writing, I’m mum to two young boys and love spending time with my family. I also have a radio show called BOOKS ROCK on Siren FM, which airs monthly. I was born in Germany, but I’ve lived in the UK for more than half my life. Oh and, I’m prone to bursting into song at random moments: http://youtu.be/jrDQmGXImFM


How long have you been a writer?

Now there’s a question! I submitted my first stories to a publisher of children’s books when I was about twelve. Evidently that didn’t work out (mostly because they didn’t publish books by children), but I suppose that’s where it all began. I started writing novels in earnest in 2004 while I was waiting for the birth of my first child, and I’ve been publishing since 2011.


Do you have a day job, or is being an author your career?

Being an author is my career. However, as royalty payments can fluctuate wildly, which makes it difficult to meet the financial demands of a family, I have a small part time job to generate a small steady income stream.


What inspired you to become a writer? Describe your journey as a writer.

I’m not quite sure how to answer that. I can’t not write, at least not now that I’ve started publishing. Words are my medium. I live and breathe stories. I get anxious and grumpy when I don’t have a story on the go.

I feel lucky that I was able to realise the dream of ‘being a writer’. My first ever masterpiece has been consigned to a box in the attic, never to see the light of day again, as I wrote out of my system every bad habit an aspiring writer could have. Since then, I have approached writing with a professional mindset, making plans, plotting in extremis, editing, polishing, and publishing. I began as a self-published author in 2011 but signed with Sapphire Star Publishing in 2012. Since then, I’ve published three novels with Sapphire, and one novel and two novellas independently.


Please give a brief description/storyline about Fairy Tale in New York.

Oooh can I share one of my favourite teasers with you here? Take a look:

What was the inspiration for this story?

I love Christmas! It’s my favourite time of year. But I wanted to write a story that was a little different, that looked at a Christmas in adverse conditions and without any presents. My question was: how do you celebrate Christmas when you’re far from home, with no place to stay, no food, and no presents? Because to me, Christmas is much more about the love, the friendship, the lights, the sharing, and I wanted to bring together a cast of characters that would make my perfect Christmas come to life.


How did it feel to have your first book published?

I cried. Then I did a mad dance around the living room. Then I cried some more. And then I took a paper copy and showed it to all my friends. LOL! It was a surreal, proud, magical moment. Incidentally, it still feels the same with every new book, although I’m now able to curb the compulsion to run around the streets shouting ‘I did it, I did it.” LOL!


Do you write books for a specific genre?

At this time, I write romance with rock stars. You could classify my work as chick lit-slash-romance, as it straddles both genres in places. In the future…. Well, let’s just say I have big plans in the romance genre!


What genres are your favorite(s)? What are some of your favorite books that you have read and why?

I love reading romantic comedies, but I’m also an addict to thrillers and crime. Novels by Lee Child and David Baldacci are firm favourites! I adore the breathless pace, the rhythm, and the trying to work out who dunnit.


Do you have a special spot/area where you like to do your writing?

I mostly write in my office, although I have been known to roam around the house and write in the lounge, the sun room, and even in bed!


How do you come up with the ideas that become the storyline for your books?

They just pop into my head. Usually it’s a nugget, a conundrum, a crisis, or a funny moment that will provide the prompt to spin a plot around. Quite often this happens at night when I can’t sleep (I’m a chronic insomniac) and when I amuse myself by inventing stories to while away the wee small hours of the morning.


When you write, do you adhere to a strict work schedule, or do you work whenever the inspiration strikes?

I adhere to a strict schedule mainly because I have to fit writing around the family. So most of the time, I write when the boys are in school. However, occasionally, a story, a scene, a chapter, simply has to be written, and then I scooch off into my office after dinner, or after the kids’ or husbands’ bedtime.


What aspects of storytelling do you like the best, and what aspects do you struggle with the most?

Do you know, I don’t really know. I am such a compulsive planner that once I get writing, the whole thing just flows from my fingers. BUT I do find it difficult to say goodbye to characters, especially at the end of a series.


What are your favorite things to do when you are not writing?

Spending time with my family, cooking, presenting radio shows, going to rock concerts, and taking walks on the beach.


What is/was the best piece of writing advice that you have received?

Write for the love of writing and have faith in your work.


What is the most gratifying thing you feel or get as a writer?

Ooooh without the shadow of a doubt, it’s messages from readers. When an email pops into my inbox or a DM appears on Facebook that tells me somebody couldn’t put my book down, loved the characters, laughed, cried, and/or is recommending the book to everyone they know: that makes my day. That kind of feedback is a writer’s manna, over and above the royalties, I would say. It means the world.


How do you usually communicate with your readers/fans?

I am on Facebook, both as ‘me’ (Nicky Wells) and as ‘author’ (Nicky Wells Author), and a lot of my reader interactions happen here. I also hang out on Twitter (@WellsNicky) and Google+, and there’s a contact form on my blog. I’m really approachable and I simply love hearing from readers!!


Is there anything in your book based on real life experiences or are they purely all from your imagination?

Hmmmm…. Obviously it’s all fiction. I have to say that, you see. But that doesn’t mean that there aren’t events in my stories that were based on real life experiences, mostly mine. LOL!


What authors have been your inspiration or influenced you to become a writer?

The authors who truly sparked my desire to become a writer were authors of children’s books. In particular, I’d have to blame Enid Blyton and Astrid Lindgren and probably also Michael Ende. I devoured their books as soon as I could read, I still own a lot of them, and I’m gradually introducing my boys to them too. These books were well written with engaging plots for kids that fostered in me a love of reading and, ultimately, the desire to ‘write something just like that.’


What is your definition of success as a writer?

My personal success criteria is whether readers find my books entertaining, thrilling and engaging, whether they walk away happy and with a smile on their face. I measure this type of success via emails and reader feedback, plus obviously the content of reviews that gets posted on Amazon or Goodreads.

Moreover, when there’s a group of readers out there who simply cannot wait for your next release, who have enough faith in you to one-click your next book on pre-order without even reading the blurb, and who’ll message you with their feedback the minute they finish reading your book, then you know you’re doing something right!


Are you currently writing a new book? If yes, would you care to share a bit of it with us?

Absolutely! Due for release in the second half of 2015, it’s called Seven Years Bad Sex. Here’s the blurb:

One wedding. One cursed mistake. Disaster ever after?

A seven-years-bad-sex curse? Surely not! Yet something went wrong when rock singer Casey and drummer Alex got married on that beautiful yacht anchored off St Tropez in the south of France. Something went badly wrong. For even on their wedding night, the young couple discovers a complete and somewhat surprising inability to make love. Muddling through their honeymoon with a string of thin excuses for their predicament, the lovers defer finding a solution (and panicking) until the return to their home in London. After all, they married for life and to make rock music, not for the love of sex. Right?

But when they resume life as normal in London, all hell breaks loose. Increasingly frantic in their quest for release, the unhappy newlyweds embark on a string of hilarious and occasionally harmful antics that drives them, their band, and an assortment of random strangers to the brink of despair. But it ain’t over ‘til it’s over or, in this case… it ain’t over ‘til the newlyweds sing.


Thanks so much for hosting me again, Kathleen! Here’s wishing you and your readers a wonderful festive season and a rocking great 2015!! See you then!


Thank you Nicky for sharing with us a part of yourself and your writing career! Have a wonderful Holiday season & Rock On in 2015!

About The Author

About Nicky Wells: Romance that Rocks Your World!

Ultimate rock chick author Nicky Wells writes romance with rock stars—because there’s no better romantic hero than a golden-voiced bad boy with a secret soft heart and a magical stage presence!

Nicky’s books offer glitzy, glamorous romance with rock stars—imagine Bridget Jones ROCKS Notting Hill! If you’ve ever had a crush on any kind of celebrity, you’ll connect with Nicky’s heroes and their leading ladies.

Born in Germany, Nicky moved to the United Kingdom in 1993 and currently lives in Lincoln with her husband and their two boys. Nicky loves listening to rock music, dancing, and eating lobsters. When she’s not writing, she’s a wife, mother, occasional knitter, and regular contributor at Siren 107.3 FM with her own monthly show. Rock on!

Nicky’s books: Sophie’s Turn | Sophie’s Run | Sophie’s Encore | Spirits of Christmas | Fallen for Rock | Fairy Tale in New York 

Did you know? There’s a single out now by Nicky’s fictional rock band Tuscq come to life! “Love Me Better” is available for download from Amazon, iTunes and many other places.


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Book Review

Fairy Tale in New York by Nicky Wells

Publisher: Independent Self Publishing

Publication Date: November 10, 2014

Format: Paperback - 100 pages

             Kindle - 346 KB

ISBN: 978-1501044700

ASIN: B00O98EMRG

Genre: Christmas / Holiday Novella

BUY THE BOOK: Fairy Tale in New York

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Disclaimer: I received a copy of the book from the author in exchange for my honest review and participation in the virtual book tour.

Book Description:

New York. A restaurant near Park Avenue. It’s early evening, and dusk is falling. So is the snow. Jude and Carrie are only killing time while they wait for their flight to London. They don’t know yet that their life will never be the same.

When rock star Jude gets stranded in New York with his family on Christmas Eve, he has no idea that he is setting in motion a chain of events that will turn their Christmas into the most magical one yet…

No good deed goes unpunished, or so it seems to Jude and Carrie on the morning of the twenty-fourth of December. The previous day, they gave up their London-bound flights to someone in crisis. And now, a spectacular whiteout is grounding all planes, and Jude, Carrie, and baby Maya are stuck far from home.

Tired, hungry, and just a little panicked, Jude loads his family into a cab and returns to their hotel. But there’s no room at the inn, and not even a platinum credit card will make a difference. Snow is falling heavily, and the family is facing a very bleak night indeed.

How do you celebrate Christmas with no place to stay, no food, and no presents? Join Jude, Carrie, Maya and a cast of colourful characters in this fairy tale story of Yuletide in New York.


Book Excerpt:

‘I can’t believe it’s all over. Where did three weeks go?’

Carrie smiled at Jude while shifting their baby daughter, Maya, onto her other hip. The check-in queue at JFK airport had ground to a complete standstill, and Carrie was beginning to struggle with her six-month-old’s weight. Unperturbed, Maya gurgled happily and snuggled her head onto Carrie’s shoulder.

‘She’s half asleep again,’ Jude commented and stroked his daughter’s rosy cheeks. He planted a quick kiss on Carrie’s forehead before responding to her question.

‘It’s crazy, isn’t it? Three weeks on tour all over the US, and suddenly it’s done. Seventeen gigs in twenty-one days. My God, I’m not half knackered.’

‘It was worth it, though. You were a runaway success.’ Carrie grinned with proprietorial pride at her rock star boyfriend. ‘They loved you.’

Jude chuckled. ‘They did, too, didn’t they? Gosh, San Francisco was a riot. I thought they’d take the stage down.’

‘I’ve never seen so much underwear flying your way. You’re gonna have to watch it, mate, or your girlfriend might get the wrong idea,’ Carrie teased.

‘Oh no, she won’t. She knows I love her.’

Jude looked Carrie deep in the eyes. He hoped she knew how much he loved her. One of these days, he ought to make an honest woman out of her. He had planned to, of course. He even had a ring. But what with Carrie having fallen pregnant, she hadn’t wanted to get married before the baby was born. ‘I don’t want to waddle down the aisle,’ she had joked when they had talked about it almost a year ago now. ‘I want to float, serenely.’

Add the band’s recording deal and the UK and European tours into the mix of their crazy life, and there hadn’t been the right time. There hadn’t been any time. They had just about managed to furnish a nursery for Maya, but that had been it on the family front.

New Year’s Eve, Jude resolved silently. I’ll propose to her then, and we’ll marry in the summer.

He snapped to abruptly when he realised Carrie was still talking.

‘I think Dan was a little put out at not getting quite so much attention himself after you gave up the stage,’ she was saying.

Dan was the mentor, manager, and record label owner behind Jude’s band, The Blood Roses, and also the lead singer of his own band, Tuscq. He was now on his way to Toronto for a special Christmas Eve show.

‘Dan was fine. He’s thrilled that it’s going so well for us. And I am looking forward to a lovely quiet Christmas at home, just me and my girls.’

Jude wrapped Carrie and the now sleeping Maya into a hug. The Blood Roses weren’t opening for Tuscq for the Toronto gig and had therefore gone their separate ways. Jude and Carrie elected to go back to London straightaway, but the rest of the band had added a short trip to Las Vegas to their itinerary.

‘Home. Ha. If we ever get there,’ Carrie grumbled. She yawned widely. It was only five-thirty a.m. Their flight to London Heathrow was due to leave in a little over two hours, but the queue hadn’t advanced for at least fifteen minutes. ‘Here, can you hold Maya a minute? She’s getting rather heavy.’

Jude took the baby out of Carrie’s arms and rocked her contentedly. He hadn’t expected to become so utterly bewitched by a toothless, hairless, and demanding little being.

Quite suddenly, the distant babble of voices that had been permeating his consciousness rose to a shouted exchange. Jude turned towards the front of the queue, curious to see what the commotion might be.

‘I really, really need to get on this flight,’ a harassed-looking man in an expensive suit reiterated. He wiped his brow with a monogrammed white handkerchief and tapped his fingers on the counter impatiently. Jude couldn’t help but eavesdrop along with the rest of the terminal.

‘Look,’ the man continued, adopting a more reasonable tone. ‘I know I’m not booked on this flight. But tomorrow is too late for me. I’m willing to pay anything at all to get a seat, any class. First class, cattle class, I really don’t care. I need to get home.’

My Book Review:

With the Christmas holiday season right around the corner, author Nicky Wells gives her readers an early Christmas present with Fairy Tale in New York, the standalone sequel to last year's entertaining novella, Spirits of Christmas: A Rock'n'Roll Christmas Carol.

In true Nicky "Rock Chick" Wells style, she weaves a fun Christmas novella with a rock'n'roll twist that catches the reader up with Jude Shaw, front man for the British rock group The Blood Roses, his girlfriend Carrie, and their baby girl Maya, when a snowstorm strands them in New York over Christmas, after spending a whirlwind three week tour in the United States. So what do you do when you find yourself stranded, homeless, and celebrating Christmas in New York's JFK airport instead of at home in London? Follow along as Jude, Carrie, and baby Maya turn a disaster into a delightful adventure when they discover the magic of Christmas in New York.

Fairy Tale in New York is a festive and heartwarming Christmas novella that will get you ready for the holiday season. Author Nicky Wells sprinkles her rock'n'roll stardust and makes Christmas in snowy New York come alive in a fun and entertaining way that will put a smile on your face. Author Nicky Wells weaves a thoughtful tale that shows the reader that the true meaning of Christmas is not the presents or holiday feast, it's spending time with loved ones that matters the most. This is heartwarming Christmas novella filled with kindness and holiday cheer that will leave you with a warm and fuzzy feeling.

So if you want to start the holiday season early, Fairy Tale in New York is a lighthearted quick read that will get you in the mood for all the festive hoopla that comes with the Christmas holiday season!

Rock On Nicky! :)


RATING: 5 STARS

                                 

Real Santa by William Hazelgrove (Book Review / Contest Giveaway)

In association with I Am A Reader Book Tours, Jersey Girl Book Reviews is pleased to host the virtual book tour event for Real Santa by Author William Hazelgrove!

Book Review

Real Santa by William Hazelgrove
Publisher: Koehler Books
Publication Date: September 1, 2014
Format: Hardcover & Paperback - 244 pages
             Kindle - 1050 KB
             Nook - 1013 KB
ISBN: 978-1938467943
ASIN: B00MUKXSIY
Genre: Holiday Fiction / Christmas Theme


BUY THE BOOK: Real Santa
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Disclaimer: I received a copy of the book from the publisher / author in exchange for my honest review and participation in a virtual book tour event hosted by I Am A Read Book Tours.


Book Description:

George Kronenfeldt is an unemployed engineer with one shot to keep his daughters belief in Santa intact. When Megan tells him the only way she will believe in Santa is if she can videotape him and then tells her fourth grade class she will prove the existence of Santa Claus by posting her video to YouTube, George realizes he must become the Real Santa. He devises a plan to land nine reindeer on his roof and go down his chimmney, hiring a broken down movie director who eventually has him funding a full scale production that bankrupts him and and threatens his marriage. When George goes to find the Real Santa to help him, the line between what is real and magic is crossed. Real Santa is a funny heartwarming story of parenthood gone wrong and illuminates what lengths parents will go to keep their children happy.


Book Excerpt:

Real Santa | Chapter 1

The Question

“SO, IF ALL the icecaps are melting, where will Santa Claus go to build his toys?”

Barbara Worthington frowned at the boy in the back row. Leave it to Josh Pataki to throw the class into a tailspin. The fourth graders had been sedate, even bored; now their little hands were shooting up all over the classroom.

“Well, Josh, think about it. How cold do you think it is in the North Pole? Those are incredibly hostile conditions. How long do you think a man with a beard and a red suit could survive up there?”

Mrs. Worthington looked at her class, and Josh Pataki in particular.

She was at the long end of her tether. Next year she would retire after forty years of teaching. Forty years. And for forty years she had been fielding questions about Santa Claus.

“I don’t understand what you mean,” Josh said through his coke-bottle glasses and stoppered nose. He had been a walking plague all year, and now he was doing the wrist roll with his nose.

Mrs. Worthington handed him a Kleenex, walking in front of the twenty-five sets of eyes of Ridgeland Elementary.

“Well, Josh, Santa Claus supposedly lives in the North Pole in brutal subzero temperatures with an ice pack surrounding the pole and unbelievable snowstorms. Not much lives up in the North Pole even with global warming, which by the way has not been proven. So my question is simply, how would Santa Claus survive up there?”

Josh rolled his shoulders. “He would live in his complex built by elves like in Santa Clause 2.”

“Hmm … and how do these elves build this complex up there? Where do they get their funding? Where do they get their skill set to create this mythical complex? Where would they get building materials, electricity?”

More hands shot up.

“Children, we are not going to stop our science hour to talk about Santa Claus.”

The hands started to fall until there was only one arm still up in the back. Mrs. Worthington motioned her hand down, but the kid’s hand stayed up there anyway. This was all Megan Kronenfeldt. The girl was bright, independent, and as literal as an accountant. She had a habit of calling out points that contradicted what Mrs. Worthington had mentioned a week before. She was almost a savant.

“Yes, Megan,” Mrs. Worthington said wearily.

“Then what I understand you to be saying, Mrs. Worthington, is there is no Santa Claus in the North Pole because no one could survive without a facility and you don’t believe there are the elves or anybody else to build that facility.”

Mrs. Worthington stood with a faint blush coming to her cheeks.

She saw the e-mails raining down from above. Parents would crash the school server with their onslaught of indignation that she dared to destroy the myth of Santa Claus. Deloris Ketchum had been forced into early retirement for saying that Santa Claus was a myth. The parents had e-mailed the district, the superintendent, even the mayor. Deloris retired five years early with just half of her pension.

And now Mrs. Worthington was standing in the same crosshairs. “Well, Megan, I’m just saying that weather conditions are harsh in the North Pole and that people must be prepared to meet those conditions … including Santa Claus.”

Megan stared at her, and Mrs. Worthington had a sudden image of Natalie Wood in Miracle on 34th Street staring down her mother and saying, “He’s just a nice old man with whiskers, but he’s not really Santa Claus.” Megan’s eyes stared at her in the same disbelief as that young child star.

“That is not what you said, Mrs. Worthington,” she countered, shaking her head. “You told us to think about it and inferred it was too cold for Santa Claus to survive and that elves could not really build a facility for him to build his toys, therefore, ergo, there is no Santa Claus.”

Ergo! Ergo! Where do these children get their words? Maybe it was better she was retiring. These were not the same children she started with in 1975. These children surfed, texted, tweeted, Skyped, downloaded, and used words like ergo.

“Now, Megan, I did not say that,” she replied, smiling icily. ”Let’s not put words in my mouth.”

“Yes you did. You said that, Mrs. Worthington,” Josh chimed in. She glared at Josh Pataki, and he slumped down in his chair. She turned to Megan sitting at her desk with her hands clasped and her two pigtails sprouting like antenna. “Now, Megan, of course there is a Santa Claus. I was just pointing out that there are certain conditions we must be cognizant of and with global warming—”

“You didn’t say that, Mrs. Worthington. You said that elves couldn’t build the type of facility that Santa Claus required. I think what you are really saying is that you believe there is no Santa Claus.”

Mrs. Worthington stared at the child. This was the same one who corrected her explanation of the Internet, saying the Department of Defense had this capability much longer than people knew and the network had been in place for a long time except they didn’t want to release the technology to the general public. This walking science book was now boring down with her hard twenty-first century logic.

“Megan, that is not what I said.”

“Mrs. Worthington, you said, think about it, there are very hostile conditions in the North Pole and that a man in a red suit and a beard really couldn’t survive—”

“Megan, that is not what I said! There is a Santa Claus! He lives in the North Pole with his elves in a facility built by elves! I am retiring at the end of this year! There is a Santa Claus, and he will give me my pension and I WILL RETIRE!”

The fourth grade of Ridgeland Elementary stared at her. Megan tilted her head and squinted.

“I didn’t think Santa Claus gave financial products, Mrs. Worthington. Mrs. Worthington stared at Megan as the bell rang. She sat down behind her desk while the children put on their hats and gloves. She closed her eyes and felt the stare. Megan Kronenfeldt stood by her desk.

“Yes, Megan.”

“Mrs. Worthington, I thought pensions were regulated by the state. I’m not sure Santa Claus could provide you with one of those.”

“Believe me, Megan,” she said wearily, “he’s bringing me a pension.”

Megan rolled her small shoulders fitted to her purple backpack.

“Oh, well. He must have filed an exception then to state laws.”

Praise for Real Santa:

STARRED REVIEW BOOKLIST

"If somebody doesn't make a movie out of this book, there's something wrong with the world. This could have been played as an out-and-out slapstick comedy, but instead the author approaches the story like a character study: a portrait of a man with the best intentions in the world watching those intentions collide with reality. It's a steamroller of a story, starting small, with George's idea, and getting bigger and bigger as George tries to put the elements together, as his obsession takes him further and further away from reality. Beautifully done." ~David Pitts Booklist

"The author marries the everyday dramas found in the novels of Tom Perrotta and Nick Hornby to the high camp of Carl Hiaasen or Dave Barry. Adults looking for a funny holiday-themed tale that doesn't lose its sense of wonder in the face of realism will find a treat here. A lovingly crafted comedy about the madness that fatherhood inspires." ~Kirkus Reviews

Best-selling author Hazelgrove (e.g., Ripples; Tobacco Sticks) captures the human need to believe in something good. This book will satisfy readers looking for a happy Christmas story. ~Library Journal

"Hazelgrove's lively improbable narrative will appeal to the readers in the mood for holiday fiction." ~Publishers Weekly


My Book Review:

Real Santa is a lighthearted modern Christmas story that will easily put the reader into the holiday spirit. Author William Hazelgrove weaves a delightful tale that follows unemployed engineer George Kronenfeldt as he goes to great lengths to keep the Spirit of Christmas alive by proving that Santa Claus is real to his nine year old daughter Megan, who has begun to doubt his existence.

The author weaves a touching story of one father's passion to keep the innocence, tradition, magic, and spirit of the holiday alive for his daughter. This story lovingly embraces the reader and takes them along for the ride as George's mission to become the "Real Santa Claus" is filled with drama and humor. You can't help but get caught up in the excitement as the story unfolds, and it has such a wonderful holiday message that will resonate with you for a long time. Real Santa is a heartwarming Christmas story that will make you laugh and put a smile on your face. I could easily see this story being made into a Hallmark Channel holiday movie.

Real Santa is such a fun holiday-themed story that embraces the wonder and spirit of the holiday season, it could easily become an annual Christmas tradition that your family would enjoy.


RATING: 5 STARS 

                                    

About The Author

Author William Hazelgrove is the best-selling author of eight novels, Ripples, Tobacco Sticks, Mica Highways, Rocket Man, The Pitcher, Real Santa and the forthcoming Jackpine and The Pitcher 2. His books have received starred reviews in Publisher Weekly,Kirkus and have been selected as Book of the Month Selections, Junior Library Guild Selections, ALA Editors Choice Awards and optioned for the movies. He was the Ernest Hemingway Writer in Residence where he wrote in the attic of Ernest Hemingway's birthplace. He has written articles and reviews for USA Today and other publications. He has been the subject of interviews in NPR's All Things Considered along with features in The New York Times, LA Times, Chicago Tribune, Chicago Sun Times, Richmond Times Dispatch, USA Today, People, Channel 11, NBC, WBEZ, WGN. His most recent novel, The Pitcher is a Junior Library Guild Selection and was chosen Book of the Year by Books and Authors. net. His next book Jackpine will be out Spring 2014 with Koehler Books. A follow up novel Real Santa will be out fall of 2014. He runs a political cultural blog, The View From Hemingway's Attic.

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Virtual Book Tour

December 11-23, 2014

 

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