Three times I have downloaded a 30-Day weight loss app. Two out of three times I ended up deleting the app. So will the third time be a charm? I hope so. I was going to add my fitness numbers, but I decided against it.
Post Rewind
📌 May 4th = Release Tour: Off to the Races
📌 5th = WWBC #18: Fictional Characters I'd Love to Meet and Why
📌 12th = Book Blast: This Tale is True
Head's Up
🔼 No Scheduled Posts
Goodreads
📚 There is a Season (by Gary Allison) = moved to "read" shelf
Currently Reading
📖 One Dangerous Desire (by: Christy Carlyle) = page 154
*** If you don't have anything to say about this week's topic, you can comment on any other part of the post or just say "hi".
*** I am always having to edit many of my posts. If I made any grammar mistakes, I will eventually fix them.
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Deborah Adams will be awarding a $25 Visa gift card to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
They don’t make goddesses like they used to….
For eons they ruled, but modern times have been rough on the ancient deities— their temples collapsed, their worshippers wandered off, and their purposes were made redundant by industry and technology. And the Fates aren’t finished with them yet.
Mere days before the annual renewal of their immortality is to occur, the goddess of youth disappears. Without her and her restorative nectar, time and age will catch up with the goddesses. In the blink of an eye, they will shrivel and die, leaving the world to fend for itself, unless a skeptical mortal can find a way to save both worlds.
combines the humor one expects from Adams with magical realism and a dash of literary fiction, resulting in a boisterous read that pushes back against the boundaries of genre.
“Deborah Adams offers goddesses in peril and a protagonist who dares all to save the immortals in a wild, wacky, and wonderful romp. Imaginative, creative, fabulous fiction.” ~ Carolyn Hart, author of the otherworldly Bailey Ruth series
Read an Excerpt
“A squirrel in the toilet is not an omen.” Cybil felt this bore repeating. “It’s just a rodent whose curiosity proved to be more than it could handle.”
Evie, her roommate and current audience, unlocked their apartment door and stepped inside, then closed the door and engaged the deadbolt as soon as Cybil had joined her. Pre-emptive security was important to Cybil, and she’d worked hard to instill good habits in her new roommate. Despite her trusting nature, Evie tried to comply with Cybil’s insistent rule about staying safe, although Evie was certain that the real dangers in this world could not be restrained by man-made mechanisms.
“I never said the squirrel was an omen,” Evie insisted.
“You didn’t disagree when the wacky witches were putting forth that very notion,” Cybil reminded her. “If you don’t speak out against the nonsense, you are in tacit agreement.”
“They have a right to believe whatever they like.” Pushing back the hood of her purple velvet cloak, Evie ran the fingers of one hand through her nut-brown hair. “And surely you can see why they thought it had meaning. It’s hard to believe the squirrel just happened to pop up in Belinda’s toilet at the very moment we invoked the Great Goddess.”
“It’s harder to believe that a goddess of Hera’s standing would send her RSVP through a bushy-tailed rat.”
“You never know,” Evie said with sincerity. “Goddesses don’t think or act like mortals.”
“I daresay you’re right about that,” Cybil conceded.
About the Author:
Deborah Zenha Adams, recipient of the Macavity and Flair Awards, is an author, a naturalist, and a yoga educator. In {This Tale Is True}, a work of magical realism, she unveils the fate of ancient Roman goddesses as they struggle to survive in the 21st century.
The seven novels in her Jesus Creek mystery series were published under her own name, and other works appear under a variety of pseudonyms. She is also the author of numerous short stories and essays.
She has been a guest lecturer at numerous events, including Southern Festival of Books, Appalachian Studies Conference, Warioto Regional Library Board of Trustees Conference, Southeastern Booksellers Association, Georgia Library Association Convention, Emory University, East Tennessee State University Writers Program, and many others. She is a lifetime member of the Southern Literary Coalition.
Deborah-Zenha is available for interviews, speaking, and author events. Her signature workshops include Write Your Memoir (even if you aren’t a writer) and Write Your Yoga Memoir.
Learn more about the author and her books on her website.
If he actually existed that would be mean that the "Bat Family" and Justice League does as well. I would ask if Batman if he would be willing to train me and join him in his mission. I would most likely get a no, but there you have it.
I’m the new racehorse trainer at Gold Rush Ranch and I’ve got three months to turn a problem stallion into a winner. Working with horses is easy, but contending with Vaughn Harding, my moody new boss, is a whole other story. He can’t decide if he hates me or wants me—not that it matters, I swore off men like him years ago. Readers who enjoy Melanie Harlow and Kelly Elliott will love this slow burn, enemies to lovers, contemporary romance.
Vaughn Harding is my new boss. Getting close to him would be career suicide for a female racehorse trainer, and plain old gossip fuel in this small town. I get a kick out of our verbal sparring, but I swore off his type years ago.
And I’ve got plans.
I’m the new trainer at Gold Rush Ranch and I’ve just been handed a problem horse that I promised to make a winner. I want to put down roots, and I’m not about to let a man distract me. No matter how electric it feels when we lock eyes, or how my body ignites when we touch.
Vaughn’s a vivid reminder of every guy I grew up around. Handsome, rich, entitled--a total media darling. But there’s a sadness in him that I can’t seem to turn my back on. A sensitive side hidden beneath brooding good looks.
The last thing I need is a broken man to put back together, and the last thing he needs is more scandal.
Teasing him for kicks is one thing, but handing over my heart?
“No, Billie,” his voice is dangerously low as he angles his head so close to my ear that I can feel his breath fan across my throat, “women usually go out of their way to endear themselves to me. Not piss me off.”
Time to teach this prick a lesson.
His words set me off and without thinking I reach out towards him and hook my index finger into his crisp white dress shirt, right between the buttons. I can feel the muscles in his abdomen clench under my touch as I gently trace the tip of my finger across his hot skin, feeling the firm ridges I knew would be there.
To anyone loitering at the stables, our silhouettes would almost look like he was a vampire going in for a quick taste with the way he towers over me. I send up a silent prayer that no one can see us and close my finger around the fabric that’s brushing against my hand, pulling his torso closer to mine so that I straddle his thigh.
I hear his sharp intake of air and feel a familiar ache just below my hip bones. This is such a bad idea.
I look up, taking in the dark shadows falling across his brow and his almost pained facial expression. We hold each other in this limbo, facing off for a few seconds before I move so close I can feel the scruff on his jaw lightly scratch my cheek. His hands squeeze my ribs, trying to hold me in place.
At the increase in pressure, my nipples harden and goosebumps bloom across my arms unbidden. This is fine. A totally typical reaction to absolutely anyone touching me like this.
Disturbed by the way my body responds to his, I opt to up the stakes, fingering the collar of his shirt with my opposite hand and gently running my teeth along the lobe of his ear. I’m pressed so close to him I can feel more than hear the grunt that breaks loose from his chest.
For a moment I let myself imagine us together under different circumstances, all the delicious noises he would make as he moved above me, pressing into me so hard that our bodies would sink right into the mattress beneath us. Coming completely undone just for me.
It’s with that image in my mind that I slide my fingers up his neck and through his hair before grabbing a handful firmly. He stands stock still. Frozen.“Well then, let me be the one to deflower you on this one, Boss Man,” I whisper against his ear. “You are absolutely insufferable.” I bite down onto his earlobe again, a little harder this time, which causes the air to leave his lungs in a loud hiss. “Now get your hands off of me, I’m not one of your playthings,” I finish, essentially dousing us both with a bucket of cold water and firmly pushing him away.
About Elsie Silver
Canadian author who loves book boyfriends and the sassy heroines who bring them to their knees. Connoisseur of charged looks and lingering touches. Fan of witty banter. Horse girl through and through. Fully convinced that it’s always wine o’clock somewhere.
📌 29th = [triple post day] Blog Tour: The Restless Cowboy ... VBT: The Misadventures of a (Wannabe) Slutty Bartender ... Release Blitz: Off to the Races
📌 30th = Book Blast: Reel to Reel
Head's Up
🔼 May 4th = Release Tour: Off to the Races
🔼 5th = WWBC #18
Goodreads
📚 "trilogy" shelf added = books that are parts of a trilogy
📚 Engulfing Emma (by: Samantha Christy) = moved to "read" shelf
📚 The Restless Cowboy (by Megan Ryder) = moved to "read" shelf
Currently Reading
📖 One Dangerous Desire (by: Christy Carlyle) = page 96
*** If you don't have anything to say about this week's topic, you can comment on any other part of the post or just say "hi".
*** I am always having to edit many of my posts. If I made any grammar mistakes, I will eventually fix them.
