Guiding the Blue Flame by J.W. Baccaro – Spotlight and Giveaway

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MEDIA KIT Book CoverGuiding the Blue Flame


The Elemental Crystals were originally created to protect the earth. However, Abaddon the Demon Lord plans to use them to transform the earth into a realm of haunting darkness and witchery, forever. In Guiding The Blue Flame, a young but powerful Nasharin Warrior, Darshun Luthais is drawn to one of these magical crystals of immense power. He learns he‟s the fulfillment of the two thousand year old Prophecy of the Guardian. The Wizard Olchemy informs him that he is the protector and guardian the earth has been waiting for. With Darshun‟s ability to sense the Elemental Crystals, Olchemy devises a plan to obtain them.

Accompanied by a small group of companions the hunt is on, in hopes to retrieve the long lost crystals before the Demon Lord claims them. During the journey, Darshun encounters Aurora, the sole survivor of a now extinct people. He falls in love for the first time, and now resents the so-called Guardian of the Prophecy role. Due to Darshun‟s naïve spirit he‟s caught off guard by Nayland, a mysterious dark warrior who confronts him about his abandonment of the quest. He reveals that he too, is a Nasharin warrior, though far exceeding Darshun in skill and power. Darshun‟s father, Mirabel saves him from death at the hands of Nayland.

Outmatched and in bewilderment from the attack, a fire awakens in Darshun. He plans on reaching his father’s level of power with a journey to Shajin Island, where Nasharin Warriors train. He‟ll be gone for only one day in Earth realm time, but due to the magic of the rigorous island, it will be seven long years for him. Entering the mystical realm of Shajin, he eagerly awaits its life threatening challenges.



Before dinner was served, Aurora left to change into some fresh clothes she’d taken from her hut, which fortunately remained intact. Upon her return, all eyes shifted to her, especially Darshun’s. She’d donned a reddish-brown and orange gown, tight to her hips which fell in folds at her feet. A long carnelian necklace adorned her neck, the stones polished to perfection, and two striking earrings of diamonds and rubies, the rubies hung within a diamond border. She slowly walked over to Darshun’s area, the overwhelming scent of lilacs and roses following, her strawberry-blonde hair smoothly combed and capturing the firelight.

She nearly pranced around the men, with all taking at least a slight interest—all except Nayland. For a moment, he cast a glare her way, and in response she sent one back…twice as piercing.

He turned his head and with a sort of victorious smile.

She smugly seated herself beside Darshun.

Nearly drooling and lost in a daze, he said nothing.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I’m fine. It’s just I have never…never—”

“Dar’s never seen someone so beautiful,” Mythaen said, cracking a smirk.

Darshun blushed and wanted to hit him.

“Aww, thank you, Darshun.”

Feeling too embarrassed, he didn’t say a word, only smiled ridiculously, like a child lost in dreamland. Not to mention his stomach was in knots, or at least, that’s what it felt like.

“Boy you are beginning to stray,” Nayland growled.

Darshun fixed his eyes on him, the expression on his face changing to anger. He sat directly across the fire while the dancing flames in between Darshun and Nayland seemed fitting for the moment. “What are you talking about, Nayland?”

Glancing at Aurora and then back to him, he answered, “You know of what I speak.”

“I know nothing of you! Only that your company has been an irritation from the start.”



MEDIA KIT Author_picJ.W.Baccaro is the author of the Guardian Series. In his free time he enjoys literature—fiction and non-fiction, playing electric guitar in the heavy metal band Rigor Hill, Consciousness and NDE studies, and thinking how to intertwine his thoughts about the world’s myths, legends and distinct truths into his novels. He lives in upstate NY with his wife Melissa, his son Alexander, his two German Shepherds and his three cats.

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My Writing Process – World Wide Blog Tour

I was nominated for this World Wide Blog Tour by author P.M. Terrell, to join this World Wide Blog Hop. She has 18+ books published. The majority of her books are mystery and are very good. I have read, I think 5 or 6 so far. Love them.

Here is PM Terrell’s bio:

She is the author of more than 18 books, including suspense, historical, a how-to book for authors, and computer books. “River Passage” won the 2010 Best Fiction & Drama Award (Bengal Book Awards) and was determined to be so historically accurate, the original manuscript now resides at the Nashville Metropolitan Government Archives for future researchers and historians. Vicki’s Key, the second book in the Black Swamp Mysteries series, was a 2012 International Book Awards finalist and a 2012 USA Best Book Awards nominee. Visit her web site at and take a peek at my historical work at


Now a bit about My Writing Process:

1) What am I working on?

I am currently working on two novels – Deadly Ties and Split Seconds.

Deadly Ties – What connection could there be between a twenty year-old murder and a thirty year-old murder and a present day attack on Kyara’s mother? Did her grandmother falsely go to jail for twenty-years?

Split Seconds – Twins sisters meet for the first time as adults and soon discover that someone has gone to great lengths to keep them apart and will even kill to ensure that continues.

2) How does my work differ from others of its genre?

Hmm, I know that fans/readers have told me my stories aren’t cookie cutter, they are different than most suspense/thrillers/mysteries in that there are a number of twists and turns that kept them guessing until the end. I tend to write strong, independent female lead characters but they have flaws and struggles to overcome on a personal level while trying to figure out who is trying to stop or kill them. I think my characters are very real and are ones that fans can identify with and see themselves in or they are someone that they really don’t like.

3) Why do I write what I do?

Because I love reading suspense/thriller type  stories. I love reading a story that takes you on a journey, one you’re not quite sure where it’s taking you and one that has many twists to it. It’s like a puzzle that you have to try to figure out as you read. You are not only reading the story but really trying to put it all together and see if you have correctly determined who the bad guys are, what is really going on as well as being very into the story, feeling like you are a part of it… So that’s the type of stories that I like to write. On top of all of that, it’s so much fun to write about lies, deceit, family relationships (or lack thereof) and secrets. I love to take my readers on a journey they won’t soon forget.

4) How does my writing process work?

Great question but not one I’m sure I can give a simple answer to. Each book I write is different. The process is different. I have learned some things that make the writing of my stories a bit easier but the truth is that they take a lot of work and time. Sometimes I get a story idea and I’ll start writing write about. Sometimes I will get a character and will start writing about them and then the story unfolds from there. Once I have the basic idea and maybe some of the story written, I often walk away from it for a period of time just to let the ideas flow. I jot down different things and just let the story take flight until it’s going in a direction that I’m excited about. I then sit down and write. When the ideas are flowing I will write for several hours a day, everyday. When I finally finish the manuscript, I again walk away from it and just let it sit for a while. I then come back to it with fresh eyes and see what makes sense, what doesn’t, do I like where it went, are all the plot holes filled, etc.



I have nominated authors that I absolutely love their writing and I feel very honored to have not only read their stories/novels but to have connected with them. The Three Authors/Writers I have nominated are:

Jane Risdon –

Victoria Bernadine –

Jeanne Marie –

I’m Away for an Emergency

Hi. I wanted to apologize for not being on here much in the last week but I’m dealing with a family emergency so it might be a while yet before I return. Thank you everyone who has been stopping by not only my blog but my Tainted Waters Blog Tour and tweeting my stuff. I so appreciate the support.

Thank you.

The Eyes Die Last by Terri Riggs – Interview and Giveaway

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MEDIA KIT CoverThe Eyes Die Last
by Teri Riggs



The Las Vegas Mayoral race is heating up, and the incumbent doesn’t have a prayer. Wealthy real estate speculator Nick Campenelli, who wants to legalize prostitution in Clark County, and former pastor Louis St. Louis, running on a ‘clean-up-Vegas-by-getting-rid-of-the-whores’ platform, are the front runners.

They’re also front runners on the suspect list for a string of murders. Kennedy O’Brien, four-year detective with cop blood running in her veins, and her partner Wilder “Wild Thing” James, a veteran, are determined to find the man who’s murdering prostitutes who work the wrong side of the street, and they don’t care how important or politically active he is.

The killer is a man with a mission. He stalks the women before he kills them, leaving a “BEFORE” photo on their bodies, and sending an “AFTER” shot to the local news hound. Ed Hershey, an aging newscaster with just the right amount of grey in his hair, is determined to turn this story into a network gig, and his interference, along with the LVTVS legal team, are making Kennedy and Wilder look bad. Campenelli’s good looks and charm, and St. Louis’ vitriolic hatred of prostitutes are muddying the waters too, and now the killer seems to have taken a liking to Kennedy.

So the big question remains. Can she get him before he gets her?



Wilder was fine, just winded. She turned to Elvis, ready to whip some mad on him. “Would you mind explaining what you’re doing here?”

“Sorry, Detective Gorgeous Eyes. I’m trying to find out who killed my Priscilla. I might possibly, have overheard you and your partner talking about staking out the store.”


“I thought I’d have a look myself—undercover. I was doing a decent job of it until I saw Detective James take off like a bat out of hell. I followed in case he needed backup. And, well, here I am.” Elvis sheepishly looked away.

“Undercover? In a fucking, flashing, light up Elvis jump suit?” She looked him up and down, blinking at the lights on his clothes.

“I accidentally hit the on button while running.”

Kennedy turned to Nick, who still had that same grin she suddenly despised, dimples and all, plastered on his face. “What about you, Campenelli? What’s your story?”

“Just out for a stroll, Detective.”

Wilder and Elvis both stifled grins and she shot them a look that shut them down. Wilder should know better than to mess with her when she was pissed, and she was really pissed.

“If I had the time I’d haul both of your asses in for obstruction, lock you up, and throw away the key.”

“Well now, it’s lucky for us you’re pressed for time.” Nick sounded smug and he was still smiling. Damn the man.

Wilder turned to Elvis. “You get a good look at the man I was chasing? Could he be the man at the casino taking pictures of you and Priscilla?”

“I’m not sure. He sort of looks familiar. But I’m really not sure where or if I’ve ever seen the dude.”

“The man is my campaign manager, John Tully.” Nick offered, “You may have seen John on TV with me. We’ve been on camera quite a bit lately.”

Wilder, his breathing back to normal, asked, “Mr. Campenelli, how can we reach your campaign manager? There are questions we’re going to need answered.”

Nick scribbled down a few notes on the back of a business card and passed it over. “Try calling these numbers. If they don’t work, I’ll call my assistant and she’ll get you John’s address. He lives in Summerlin, I believe.”

Wilder pocketed the card. “Kenny, I think this stakeout is a bust for the day. I’ll take Elvis to Metro, go through some of the mug shots and get that picture of St. Louis in front of him. We’ll see if he spots anyone.”

“No thanks to these two,” Kennedy snarled.


As An Author, What Scares Me Most
In the beginning of my writing career, I probably worried the most about not finishing the book I’d started. I knew nothing about writing. I was a NICU nurse and the extent of my writing was jotting down nursing notes on a patient’s chart. Learning the craft was not a walk in the park either. I am an insatiable reader and had a slight idea of what I needed to do. I took online writing classes taught by authors, bought a few writing for dummies type books, and attended a few writing conferences. It’s over ten years later and I still haven’t conquered the art of writing, but I’m closing in on it. Another ten to twenty years? Maybe.

I worried what people would think about me writing. Would it be a joke to them? Would I look like an idiot? My family was the ones who encouraged me to write. Still I decided I wouldn’t share my new insomniac’s overnight activity…until I realized I needed massive tutorials on the computer. I was lucky. No one in the family laughed. They supported my dream more than I thought possible. Soon I told my sisters and a few close friends about my little adventure. Again, I got nothing but best wishes.

When I actually finished my first book, I was ecstatic. I’d done what I set out to do. The book’s premise was good, but the writing was horrible. Naturally I didn’t get any contract offers and it’s floating somewhere out in cyber space. I wrote another book. It sold. Yay me! Then I began to worry again. What if no one bought my book? Then what? Well, the book was selling and three years later, I’m still selling copies. My second published book is selling. I won’t be amassing a fortune, but the books are selling.

I’ll always find something to worry about in my writing. But now I look at my adventures in writing as one big, continuous lesson in learning.



MEDIA KIT teri.riggs_AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Teri Riggs was destined to be a writer. As a small girl she didn’t read bedtime stories, she made up her own. Who needed Little Red Riding Hood or The Three Little Pigs when there were so many great tales bouncing around in her head? When she grew up and became a mother to three little girls, she continued the tradition of making up bedtime stories. On the occasions she chose to tell conventional fairytales, Teri usually gave them a bit of tweaking here and there or added a new ending. Her girls loved it.

After her daughters had the nerve to actually grow up and leave home, Teri discovered she had a passion for writing and jumped right in. It came as no surprise she chose to write mysteries and happily-ever-after’s since that’s the genres she loves to read.

Teri lives in Marietta, Georgia with her husband, one of her daughters and two dogs that seem to think they rule the world. And some days Teri thinks maybe they do.

Teri still frequently tells herself stories as she falls asleep. The only difference now is she wakes up the next morning and turns her bedtime stories into books.



Twitter: @TeriLRiggs



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The Ashes that Remain by A.M. Griffin

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 MEDIA KIT Ashes Remain 500 x700The Ashes That Remain
A.M. Griffin


We’re at war against the aliens that have invaded Earth, fighting the only way we can—by surviving. I have more than most people do, but although I know it’s stupid to hold on, I can’t let go of what might have been—can’t help dreaming of something more. No matter how I tell myself it would be easier to do what everyone else wants me to, there’s a part of me that can’t give in.

Making the best of the situation is one thing. Settling, even to make other people happy, is something else.

Then we hear the alien mother ships have disappeared. Of course we have to go and investigate. What we find lands us in a huge mess that we somehow have to clean up and, as our little enclave is rocked to the core with even more changes, I’m learning a hard lesson.

The more things change—for the better or the worse—there’s no fighting human nature, and building on the ashes that remain will take everything we have. And maybe more.


Excerpt #4
We’re in trouble.

Deep trouble.

We’re out in the open.

It’s day time.

And no matter how many times I’ve been to Detroit, it’s still an unfamiliar city.

If this were Oxford Township, we’d have known all the nooks and crannies to hide in. But out here every building looks like a trap and every street looks like a dead end.

A blast erupts in front of us, sending snow and pieces of debris up from the ground to pelt me in the face.

I slide to a stop and lose my balance to fall on my side. “Shit.”

As MJ runs by me, he grabs my hood, pulling me to my feet. I hear his heavy breathing as we plough through the snow, hampered by the heavy drifts but propelled to sprint by adrenaline and fear. The increasingly louder hum of the spaceship whizzes through the air, gaining on us.

“Take cover!” Rocky yells.

The spaceship cuts through the wind above my head. MJ and I turn down a street and press ourselves against the side of the building. The spaceship travels in a blur past us. When it passes, I poke my head around the corner to see the ship make an angling turn back in our direction. Everyone has taken cover and is out of sight, except for Jorin.

My heart slams in my chest as I watch him dive under a car. When the craft makes a path toward where Jorin has hidden, I do the unthinkable.

I sprint from between the buildings and run across the street, drawing attention to me.

“Sinta!” MJ yells. “What the hell are you doing?”

One shot at the car and Jorin is a goner.

Whiz, boom! The ground shakes underneath my feet as a blast hits no more than five feet from me. I take off running in the opposite direction. Whiz, boom! I skid to a halt as another blast hit a few feet to my right.

“Over here!” Rocky yells, flailing his arms in the air. “Come get me you bastards!”

“This way!” Ian yells, doing the same thing Rocky is doing.

The spaceship can’t focus on three targets, so it fires behind Rocky.

Whiz, boom!

“Come on.” MJ’s strong hands grab me again, pulling me, urging me to run.

Panic engulfs me as Rocky runs by us. “That way!” He points to a narrow passage between two buildings. “Come on!”

I stay on his heels, too afraid to turn back to look at the spaceship or to see if everyone is following us.
Whiz, boom! Five feet in front of us, the ground shakes. Chunks of the building we were running toward erupts. Rocky makes a left. The GPS tumbles from his pocket. I slow down just enough to grab it and stuff it into mine.

Whiz, boom!

So close.

The heat from the blast scotches the side of my face. From my peripheral vision I see them, five lizards running our way.

In a flash Rocky has his rifle in his hands, peeling off shots as we run.

They shoot back, one of the bolts hitting Ian in his leg. He howls in pain, falling to the ground. MJ and I stop, going back for him. MJ works on lifting him, trying to put Ian over his shoulder. While he does, I cover them, firing shot after shot at the aliens coming closer to us.

“Help us!” I yell to Rocky and Jorin, but they’ve got their own troubles. Aliens are chasing them. In a frenzy I look for Wade, he’s stuck in an alien shooting match of his own.

I turn back to the aliens that are now just a few feet away from us. I can’t let them get to us. Panic rips through me.

Keep them away.

They’ll tear us apart without even trying. I empty both high-powered pistols in their direction, trying to keep them at a distance, taking down one. I reach underneath my coat, feeling the cool metal of my throwing knives in my hands. One-by-one, in quick succession, I aim and let my knives fly, hitting my target in the face. With each throw of my weapons, I try to kill. My knives hit the lizard’s eyes and one lodges in its skull.

It goes down.

Another lizard is too close for me to throw the knife that I’m clutching in my hand. I open my hand and let it drop to the ground. It’s no use to me right now. Using both hands, I reach behind my back and retrieve my swords.

“Leave me,” Ian cries out. I glance at him and see he’s clutching his leg. His face is twisted in pain as MJ positions Ian on his shoulder.

If MJ heard Ian, he doesn’t pay attention, because he lumbers to his feet with Ian dangling over his shoulder.

“Sin, let’s go,” MJ says as he struggles to walk in the snow with the added weight.

The lizard lunges for MJ and, with a swish of air, I take off its hand. I make a quick turn to the right and bring my other sword through its body where it glides freely until it lodges in the middle. As I pull out, the lizard falls on its stomach to land in a dead heap.

Another alien heads our way.

Where did this one come from?

I steady my feet and ready my swords. “Get him out of here MJ.”

“Don’t you dare leave her,” Ian yells. Just as I turn to tell them to keep going, the lizard’s tail hit me on my legs and knocks me on my back. I fall with an “oomph”.

“Sin!” MJ screams.

The lizard looms over me, his thin lips are pulled back to reveal his pointy teeth, which drip saliva onto my stomach.

“You belong to me,” it snarls.

It leans down to me, arms outstretched.

I aim my swords and thrust them both in its gut and twist.

Its eyes widen in disbelief. Slowly the lizard begins to slip down my swords. Its blood gushes down the metal to meet my gloves. MJ lets Ian slide to rest against a bus, then uses his booted foot to kick the lizard on its side. It falls, taking my swords with it.

I struggle to my feet and, once there, I pull my swords from the lizard’s belly.

“Aw, shit,” Ian says. His eyes are on something past MJ’s and my shoulders.

I turn to follow his gaze. More aliens. I glance around wildly. Where are Rocky, Wade and Jorin? I hear the gun shots in the distance but I can’t see them.

We’re on our own.

With no bullets and no help.

“Sin,” MJ calls. He holds his hand out and I toss him one of my swords.

We can do this.

“Don’t be idiots,” Ian says, shaking his head. “If you two stay, they’ll just kill you.”

I lift a shoulder. “Bet I can take out two,” I say to MJ.

He smirks. “Good, leave the rest for me.”

“Show off.”

It was odd. Us standing here, holding samurai swords and joking. About to die.


A. M. Griffin is a wife who rarely cooks, mother of three, dog owner (and sometimes dog owned), a daughter, sister, aunt and friend. She’s a hard worker whose two favorite outlets are reading and writing. She enjoys reading everything from mystery novels to historical romances and of course fantasy romance. She is a believer in the unbelievable, open to all possibilities from mermaids in our oceans and seas, angels in the skies and intelligent life forms in distant galaxies.
Where you can find me:
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grand prize: $20 Amazon gift card 

Runner up: $10 Amazon gift card

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Tainted Waters in a Book Cover Contest

I need your comments… not here but I do love those too, but at Book Goodies. Tainted Waters has been entered into a book cover contest over there and I need comments. There is a panel of judges who are determining the winner over the next couple of months but they want to know what the general public thinks. My purpose in setting up the cover this way, which I did in consultation with Digital Donna who created it, was to have intrigue, mystery, threat and just make you curious as to what was going on. I also wanted a strong female character to represent the main character. What do you think? Leave your comments at Book Goodies:


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Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

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Ocean of Dust by Graeme Ing – Spotlight and Giveaway

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MEDIA KIT oceanofdustaudiobook_withlogoOcean of Dust
by Graeme Ing



Fourteen-year old Lissa is snatched from her home and finds herself a slave on a trading ship traveling on a waterless ocean of nothing but gray dust. A feisty, curious and intelligent girl, her desire to explore the ship earns her the hatred of the cruel first officer, Farq.

Fascinated by the ocean of dust, Lissa becomes embroiled in its mysteries, sensing things that the crew cannot, while cryptic whispers in her head are leading her toward a destiny linked to the dust itself. Only one man aboard can help her make sense of her new talent, but can she trust him? All is not as it seems, and she must unravel the clues before it’s too late.

When a sinister plot casts her adrift on the barren ocean, her best friend is left in the hands of the treacherous crew. Everything hinges upon her courage, quick wits, and her ability to master her new talent.



“Don’t even think of trying to swim for it,” the big man said, glaring over his shoulder. “Even without them chains, yer wouldn’t survive.”

“No one can swim in dust,” the other man added.

She pinched her lip thoughtfully. In the warmer moon-cycles, she liked to swim in the lake. What would stop her swimming here? After all, it clearly supported boats and huge ships. She plunged her entire hand beneath the surface and moved it about. The dust felt bone dry but grew cooler as she reached deeper. Scooping out a handful, she compared it to the spices in her mother’s kitchen. None had been ground as fine as this grey powder. It flowed between her fingers like a liquid. A gust blew a wave of dust across the boat and into her face. She coughed and licked her lips. It tasted bitter, like nothing she could put her finger on. She brushed her hands together and wiped them on her skirt. The dust particles fell off easily and the bottom of the boat was covered in the stuff.

Pete nudged her. “Look.”

The rear of a ship towered above them, three or four stories high. The whole ship rolled side-to-side in a wide but lazy motion and was larger than she had expected. Windows were open on every level, with a narrow balcony halfway up. She read the huge letters painted across the stern:

The Fair Maiden Of Yamin


AUTHOR Bio and Links:
MEDIA KIT GraemeIngPhotoGraeme is a writer of speculative fiction. He probably won’t fall into existing pigeonholes, but hang around and you’ll get to read tales of fantasy, science-fiction, paranormal, cyberpunk, steampunk and who knows what.

Born in England, Graeme now lives in San Diego, California. His career as a software engineer and development manager spans 30 years, including the development of a dozen computer games for consoles, home computers and online. Graeme is also an avid armchair mountaineer, astronomer, mapmaker, pilot and general geek. He and his wife, Tamara, share their house with six crazy cats.



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Twitter: @GraemeIng



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Rethink What You Are Capable Of

I think the biggest disservice we do to ourselves is we don’t believe in ourselves, in our gifts and talents. I know it took me a very long time to share my writing with others and then with the world. It’s not easy but then we often focus on not being good enough. When I wrote, I loved getting lost in the creating, the plotting, the writing of the story… but I could not ever fathom someone wanting to read what I wrote. Thankfully I have had people in my life who managed to shift that belief. Many people have inspired me to see myself differently and to see life differently. I truly hope to pay that forward.

Please watch this video of a young man, Chris Koch, who just happens to be from my home town. He lives his life to the fullest. Not only is he a farmer but he has climbed the stairs to the Calgary Tower, all the way to the top – 802 steps in 24 minutes. Wow! He then went on to do the same at the CN tower in Toronto in 50 minutes. I don’t know many able body people who would or could do either.

The only thing holding us back is what we believe… Please watch this short video, I think it just might change your life.


To learn more about Chris…

Tainted Waters Tour through Reading Addictions

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Hi. Well Tainted Waters is on a book tour… again. :) This time I am using Reading Addictions Book Tours. Here are a list of all the stops, please stop by some of the blogs and make sure you enter my giveaway. Thank you.

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Virtual Book Tour – July 1 – July 31

July 1 - Reading Addiction Blog Tours - Kick Off
July 3 – What is That Book About – Guest Post
July 4 – Readalot – Review
July 5 - Shelf Full of Books – Review
July 6 - Cajun Book Lover - Excerpt
July 7 -Deal Sharing Aunt - Interview
July 8 – Simplistic Reviews – Excerpt
July 9 – Bound 2 Escape – Excerpt
July 10 – The Pulp Den – Review
July 11 - Cupcake’s Book Cupboard - Review
July 12 – Books Direct – Interview
July 14 – Mythical Books – Guest Post
July 16 – Read It Write – Excerpt
July 17 – Andi’s Book Reviews – Guest Post
July 18 – Bea’s Book Need – Excerpt
July 19 – Chosen By You Book Club - Excerpt
July 20 – Corey’s Book Reviews - Review
July 21 – Books N Pearls – Excerpt
July 22 – Books A to Z – Excerpt
July 23 - Genuine Jenn - Review
July 24 – Pure Jonel - Guest Post
July 25 – Books, Coffee, Art – Excerpt
July 27 - Rhythem Poets – Review
July 28 – Sue’s Reveals and Promotions – Review
July 30 – Enter Here Canada- Excerpt
July 31 -RABT Reviews - Wrap Up

What does it mean to be Canadian

I love being a Canadian and am very proud of it. But the truth is I have no idea what it is like to be an American, an Englishman, a Chinese person, a Brazilian… so in truth I am very happy to be human. I know there are differences between us all but there are I think more similarities than not. What I do know is that as a Canadian we have this persona of being kind, nice… which I am very proud of but here’s the kicker, it doesn’t make me any different than anyone else, everyone can be kind, nice, it’s a choice whether people choose to be that way or not. I’m no better or worse than anyone else.

I had originally planned on writing this to say what it means to be a Canadian but over the last week or so I have seen such nastiness on the internet and just in life in general, people ripping each other apart or just being mean. Not because someone has really done something wrong but because they don’t like what the other person has written, how the other person thinks, how the other person looks, what the other person says, what the other person does… the list goes on. It breaks my heart that we hold each other so separate and that we stand behind this wall of fear and sling our mud at others. I don’t think it has anything to do with being Canadian but it has a lot to do with being human to know that this is wrong. And mean. And hurting so many for no reason. There is no gain. There is no power to be won. There is no award – I’m better than you. We are equal. We are meant to be equal, meaning we are each unique and beautiful and we all make mistakes, we all do things we wished we hadn’t of. We all want to be understood… seen… heard… loved…

Now is when we need to stop this attacking each other. We need to start seeing each other as good and wonderful and recognizing those days when someone isn’t being their best self. For example the people who have been nasty over the last week, they are good people. And I know if I met them in different circumstances, got to know their story, I’d know that deep down this isn’t the type of person they are.

I’m not suggesting that we stop telling each other when we don’t like something or disagree, that’s okay. It’s how we do it that I have an issue with. We get angry, we blame, we swear, we put down, we call people names, we spread rumors… And for what? If we’d put the time into understanding the other person and recognizing our own stuff, we’d be able share our thoughts and feelings without hurting each other.

What does it mean to be Canadian? It means to be human, like every other person on this planet and I hope to uphold being nice and being kind to others. We could all use a little more of it.

So… Happy Canada Day. Please go out there and be kind… not just today but everyday. It truly will change the world. :)

Canadian flag