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Wednesday, May 31, 2017

Thy Paintbrush to Abstracting Images @ShavondaRobin14 #poetry #booktour


Poetry
Publisher: True Beginnings Publishing 
Date Published: February 3 2017

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A collection of poems that will take readers on a constant visual journey by creating a world between an abundant imagination and reality based situations.
This poet has a way of waving her magic wand and putting up a persuasive point of view.
This poet also has super pen powers on the page with a creativity level that cannot be tamed, and she will dazzle you with dazzle you her captivating gift when it comes to connecting with others by using images and musicality to tell different poetic stories throughout the entire book.


Shavonda Robinson is an accomplished writer whose credits include being published in a few anthologies and magazines. She also is the founder of Create Something for the future," an online poetry magazine for upcoming poets and writers. She has won a few poetry awards for being most creative and poet of the year in a few poetry competitions and Songwriting awards. She is inspired by the power of words, when it comes to transforming ourselves and our thought's by the written word. She lives in Nashville, Tennessee with her two beautiful children.


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May 31 - RABT Book Tours - Kick Off
June 1 - For Love of Books 4 - Spotlight
June 2 - Momma and Her Stories - Excerpt
June 3 - Books, Dreams, Life - Excerpt
June 4 - T's Stuff - Interview
June 5 - My Reading Addiction - Interview
June 6 - Mythical Books - Guest Post
June 7 - Novel News Network - Review
June 8 - A Life Through Books - Interview
June 9 - On a Reading Bender - Review
June 10 - T's Stuff - Excerpt
June 13 - Texas Book Nook - Review
June 14 - Lins Perspective - Spotlight
June 15 - The Indie Express - Review
June 16 - Charline Ratcliff - Spotlight
June 19 - Beach Bound Books - Spotlight
June 20 - Cloe Michaels Reads - Interview
June 21 - Quiet Fury Books - Guest Post
June 23 - Bound 2 Escape - Spotlight
June 24 - Book Junkiez - Spotlight
June 24 - Evermore Books - Spotlight
June 25 - This and That Book Blog - Spotlight
June 27 - Wall to Wall Books - Review
June 28 - Stephanie's Book Reviews - Spotlight
June 29 - Sapphyria's Book Reviews - Spotlight
June 30 - RABT Reviews - Wrap Up


Release Blitz: Under the Cherry Tree by @lilacmills #excerpt #sale



Chick Lit
Date Published:  05/31/2017
Only $0.99!

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“A feel-good, heart-warming, tear-jerking love story.”
The best sort of holiday read, recommended for fans of Jane Costello, Erica James, and Lucy James
“My dog didn't like men. Actually that was a lie – she didn't like the men I chose. The only ones who rocked her world had been my father (who was no longer with us), Ross (who was gay), and the butcher on the high street (for obvious reasons).
When Jenni Meadows has the opportunity to expand her dog-grooming business she takes it, and when a nice man appears on her horizon but fails to make any sparks fly, she decides she has enough on her plate with her business without adding a boyfriend into the mix. 
Besides, Millie doesn’t like him and when her dog doesn’t like a man, Jenni knows all about it. So why does Millie take a very strange liking to the new vet, especially since he has a taciturn expression, wears a wedding ring, and wields a needle? 
Under the Cherry Tree is a tale of love and hope, waggy tails, and cold noses.


Excerpt 

His name was Rupert, and that should have told me all I needed to know. Not that I’m nameist or anything, but with a name like that there was no way he came from the council estate up the road; the other kids would have decimated him! And he wasn’t a kid, not by a long stretch, not if that chest and those arms were any indication. He was tall too, like many rowers tend to be.

Rupert and I moved in entirely different circles, and I don’t know what on earth possessed me to agree to go out on a date with him, though the three glasses of white wine I’d drunk may have had something to do with it. I was drinking for two, because Amber had just that morning found out she was pregnant, and that meant I had to drink her share. Oh, and don’t forget that chest. It bulged and rippled and clung to his body like I wished I could. I only took my eyes off it long enough to make sure he didn’t have two heads. The face above a set of extremely broad shoulders looked nice enough, so I didn’t bother to check again.

But why the hell had I agreed to let him take me shooting? Who actually did something like that on a first date? Dinner, a drink, maybe a concert, ice-skating at a push – but definitely not clay pigeon shooting.

The only redeeming thing was that he told me I could bring Millie. And did I mention his chest?  If that’s what rowing did for a man, I made a vow to meet more rowers (if this one didn’t pan out).

Rupert the Rower. I should have realised, even without the accent, that he was way out of my league. He was an ex-Kings student (private school – very private, because mummy and daddy had to have a great deal of money to send their children there, and he was the youngest of three boys).

Then there was the house, or should I say, mansion. As I trundled up the gravelled drive in my little Micra, Millie panting on the passenger seat, I was under the impression this was where the shooting meet was taking place, not that Rupert actually lived there.

I pulled my ten-year-old car into a space between a brand-new Range Rover and a top-of-the-range Jag, and clambered out. Hollington Hall. Nice. I wondered if they did wedding receptions. Not that I had any plans on getting married any time soon (had to find the right guy first), but it was something to consider for the dim and distant future. At least I wasn’t like some of my friends who had picked the dress, the shoes, and the bridesmaids’ outfits, all before their sixteenth birthdays! I was merely mildly interested.

Surprisingly, for a hotel, the front door was firmly closed.

After unclipping Millie from her harness, I carried her up the steps and placed her gently on the ground between a pair of tall columns, and tried to turn the door handle. Locked.

There didn’t appear to be a bell, but there was a huge knocker in the shape of a lion’s head, so I banged it a couple of times and waited until  it was opened by an elderly woman in a pinny. She frowned at me.

‘I’m here for the shooting,’ I said.

She gave me a blank stare.

‘With some guy called Rupert? Sorry, I don’t know his last name.’ Perhaps I hadn’t got the right place either, because the large hallway behind her looked nothing like a hotel reception area. It lacked a front desk, for starters. A sleepy spaniel lifted its head and blinked, but made no move to get up. It was probably so used to guests that another one, even one with a dog, was nothing to get excited about.

‘Master Rupert,’ the woman said, issuing me with a stony stare.

‘Pardon?’

‘His name is Master Rupert Hollington.’

‘I thought Hollington was the name of this place?’

‘It is.’ She opened the grand door a little wider, and moved to the side with a sigh. ‘I’ll let him know he has a guest.’

I stepped into the hall, my eyes on stalks. Rupert Hollington of Hollington Hall. Rupert the Rower, who’d gone to Kings and had a plummy accent, and who thought taking a girl clay pigeon shooting on a first date was a good idea.

I wanted the highly polished, black-and-white tiled floor to open up and swallow me.

The maid/servant/housekeeper (I had no idea what to call her – she might be his long-suffering nanny for all I knew) stalked down the hall and disappeared through a door at the far end, leaving me to stare up at the sweeping staircase with my mouth open. The place was huge!

‘Jessie, how lovely you could make it.’ Rupert strode up to me, both hands outstretched, and moved in for a double cheek peck.

‘Jenni,’ I corrected him, mortified.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Erm…yes?’

‘Jenni it is then, though I could have sworn you told me your name was Jessie.’

‘It was noisy in the pub,’ I said, trying to make him feel better, though to be fair, he didn’t seem in the least bit fazed that he’d got my name wrong.

Never mind, it was an easy mistake to make.

‘I see you’ve brought your dog,’ he said. ‘Does it retrieve?’

I glanced down at Millie, with her white fluffy fur and pink diamante collar. ‘Not even a stick,’ I admitted, wondering why he thought a West Highland Terrier would double up as a retriever. Now if he’d asked about her ability to dig holes…

Rupert looked a little put out, but recovered quickly. ‘No bother. Just don’t let it off the lead, or it might interfere with the real dogs.’

Was he calling my dog fake? Huh! She was as doggy as any other canine.

I had a feeling this date wasn’t going to go as well as I’d hoped, especially when he asked, ‘Are your wellies in the car?’

Wellies? What wellies? Oh dear; I hadn’t thought to dress for mud, assuming my leather boots and chunky jacket would be outdoorsy enough. Clearly not. When I took the time to really look at him, I realised he was wearing a Barbour jacket and a pair of green Wellington boots. Both the jacket and the wellies were liberally spattered with mud.

‘Is the shoot in a field?’ I asked, pleased to be able to display some shooting terminology.

He gave me an odd look. ‘Where else would it be?’

Maybe I should have done a bit more research on Google. ‘I’ve never handled a gun before,’ I admitted. ‘The only thing I know about it, is that you call “pull” and then do your best to hit the thingy.’

I was unprepared for his sudden burst of laughter. ‘Oh, my dear girl, you’re priceless!’

‘Eh?’ So what if I didn’t know the correct term for those flying disk things? I’d already confessed I knew nothing about shooting.’

‘We’re shooting pheasant,’ he said, taking my arm and guiding me towards the door he had appeared from.

I pulled back. ‘Wait. What? As in real, live birds?’

He nodded.

‘Ew. No thanks.’

‘You don’t have to touch them,’ he said, giving my arm a tug.

It wasn’t the touching which bothered me – it was the killing itself. Millie, close by my side, gave a small grumble in the back of her throat, half warning, half concern, and nudged my leg with her nose. I bent to pat her, using the movement as an excuse to shake off his hand.

‘Is it friendly?’ he asked, leaning forward and holding out his fingers for her to sniff.

Millie drew back behind my legs.

‘She,’ I emphasised the word, ‘is perfectly friendly.’ And Millie promptly made me into a liar by emitting a low growl.

I tugged at her lead in annoyance, vowing to give her a good telling off later. Not that it would do any good; if a dog had to be admonished for bad behaviour, the ticking off had to take place immediately after the event, else the dog would have no idea why its owner was cross.

‘I don’t think shooting is for me,’ I said, and turned to leave. Even if Rupert suggested doing something else instead, I wasn’t sure he was my kind of guy.

Millie simply confirmed my thoughts when I glanced down at her.

She was weeing on his wellies.


About the Author

Lilac spends all her time writing, or reading, or thinking about writing or reading, often to the detriment of her day job, her family, and the housework. She apologises to her employer and her loved ones, but the house will simply have to deal with it!
She calls Worcester home, though she would prefer to call somewhere hot and sunny home, somewhere with a beach and cocktails and endless opportunities for snoozing in the sun…
When she isn’t hunched over a computer or dreaming about foreign shores, she enjoys creating strange, inedible dishes in the kitchen, accusing her daughter of stealing (sorry – “borrowing”) her clothes, and fighting with her husband over whose turn it is to empty the dishwasher.

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Tuesday, May 30, 2017

PROMO Blitz: The Windless Echo by @Oliver_Kaufman


Short Stories, Fiction
Date Published: January 20, 2017

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The Windless Echo is a collection of stories that delve into the minds and feelings of characters as they struggle to resolve, understand, and uncover the realities of their experiences.

Joy and emptiness, rest and effort, meaning and madness - these and other themes weave their way into the tales and the problems these characters seek to unravel.

Contents: 18 Short stories, 178 6''x9'' pages, ~62k words.

Preview on Amazon contains the first story, "The Ashen Heart", and 3/4 of the second, "The Woodchopper's Son".

Two of the stories, "The Woodchopper's Son" and "The Prisoner of the Ashen Lake", have been put into audio form, read by the author, and can be found here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLw9MjSFObAc2D1Jwi-JOIZ7ZiJtzZ6iUl



About the Author


Oliver Kaufman is an author and the founder of theworldwithin.org, a website dedicated to self-awareness, self-healing, growth, and the exploration of one’s own inner, conscious world. He currently lives in Redmond, Washington, in the US.


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Reading Addiction Blog Tours

Monday, May 29, 2017

Tour Kick Off: Redemption Lake by @SusanCGoldner #mystery #giveaway




Mystery
Date Published: May 17, 2017
Publisher: Tirgearr Publishing

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Tucson, Arizona – Eighteen-year-old Matt Garrison is harboring two terrible secrets: his involvement in the drowning death of his 12-year-old cousin, and a night of drunken sex with his best friend’s mother, Crystal, whom he finds dead the following morning. Guilt forces Matt to act on impulse and hide his involvement with Crystal. 

Detective Winston Radhauser knows Matt is hiding something. But as the investigation progresses, Radhauser’s attention is focused on Matt’s father. Matt’s world closes in when his dad is arrested for Crystal’s murder and Travis breaks off their friendship. Despite his father’s guilty plea, Matt knows his dad is innocent and only trying to protect his son. Devastated and bent on self-destruction, Matt heads for the lake where his cousin died—the only place he believes can truly free him. Are some secrets better left buried?

            Redemption Lake is a novel of love and betrayal. It’s about truth and lies, friendship and redemption, about assuming responsibility, and the risks a father and son will take to protect each other. 







Susan Clayton-Goldner was born in New Castle, Delaware and grew up with four brothers along the banks of the Delaware River. She is a graduate of the University of Arizona's Creative Writing Program and has been writing most of her life. Her novels have been finalists for The Hemingway Award, the Heeken Foundation Fellowship, the Writers Foundation and the Publishing On-line Contest. Susan won the National Writers' Association Novel Award twice for her novels and her poetry was nominated for a Pushcart Prize.

Her work has appeared in numerous literary journals and anthologies including Animals as Teachers and Healers, published by Ballantine Books, Our Mothers/Ourselves, by the Greenwood Publishing Group, The Hawaii Pacific Review-Best of a Decade, and New Millennium Writings. A collection of her poems, A Question of Mortality was released in 2014 by Wellstone Press. Her novel, A Bend In The Willow, was published in January 2017. Redemption Lake, the first in a 3-book detective series, will be released May 17, 2017. Prior to writing full time, Susan worked as the Director of Corporate Relations for University Medical Center in Tucson, Arizona. 

Susan shares a life in Grants Pass, Oregon with her husband, Andreas, her fictional characters, and more books than one person could count. In her spare time, Susan likes to make quilts and stained glass windows. She says it is a little bit like writing, telling stories with fabric and glass.

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May 29 - RABT Book Tours - Kick Off
May 30 - The Bookworm Lodge - Spotlight
May 31 - Author B.L. Blair - Excerpt
June 1 - Devorah Fox - Spotlight
June 2 - A Life Through Books - Interview
June 3 - T's Stuff - Excerpt
June 4 - For Love of Books 4 - Spotlight
June 5 - Trendy, Sexy, Cool - Excerpt
June 6 - Mythical Books - Guest Post
June 7 - Fantastic Feathers - Spotlight
June 7 - Charline Ratcliff - Spotlight
June 7 - Paranormal Fantasy and More - Interview
June 8 - Readsalot - Excerpt
June 9 - My Reading Addiction - Interview
June 10 - Books, Dreams, Life - Excerpt
June 12 - Texas Book Nook - Review
June 13 - Readaholic Zone - Excerpt
June 14 - The Indie Express - Review
June 15 - Nerdy, Dirty, and Flirty - Review
June 16 - Carole's Books - Spotlight
June 17 - The Avid Reader - Excerpt
June 18 - Evermore Books - Excerpt
June 19 - eBook Addicts - Review
June 20 - Life at 17 - Review
June 21 - Full Moon Bites - Guest Post
June 22 - Chosen By You Book Blog - Excerpt
June 23 - RABT Reviews - Wrap Up








Release Blitz: Starshine by @MelodyWinter #romance #excerpt


Contemporary Romance
Date Published: 29th May 2017

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Film student Ella Summers can’t believe her luck when she is selected to work on the set of the most anticipated film release of the year—STARSHINE. For the next four weeks, she’ll be in the studio with heart-throb and leading man Alex Denton, and his co-star—and recent ex—the stunning Amy Strickland.

But her first day on set has her questioning the true character of the enigmatic and sexy Alex. The charming celebrity she’s adored on screen disappears before her very eyes—if indeed he ever really existed.

Off-camera arguments between Alex and Amy become difficult to ignore, and when Ella uncovers layers of deceit and closely guarded secrets between them, she becomes involved in a battle that has far-reaching implications.

With the paparazzi hounding her every move for the most sensational story they can get, Ella becomes deeply embroiled in Alex’s life. Can she break down his seemingly impenetrable walls, or will he remain the arrogant ass she first met?

STARSHINE is set in London, England. Beware though—Alex Denton has a crude mouth, and an equally wicked smile.

  

Excerpt

The silence was suddenly broken by the thud of distant music and the roar of a car engine. I glared at the car as it sped along the road toward the bus-stop, and inwardly cursed the idiot behind the wheel.
My glare turned into a worried frown when the silver car slowed down and stopped at the bus-stop. The dark tinted passenger window slowly hummed down, and the thud of music turned into a deafening roar.
The driver of the car was revealed—Alex Denton.
He raised his eyebrows, before lowering his gaze and taking in the sight of my dress clinging to my legs. I was glad I had a cardigan on, no matter that it looked like a wet sack now. At least he couldn’t see my bright pink bra, one that would be very visible underneath a practically transparent wet dress.
Alex licked his bottom lip as he stared at my legs, and I realised that the relief I had felt that he couldn’t see my bra due to my cardigan, had been misplaced. The modest woollen covering wasn’t long enough to cover my lower half. My matching pink pants would be very visible and I suspected that they were what Alex Denton was looking at.
“You’re wet!” he shouted above the relentless thudding of the music.
“You noticed!” I yelled back, wondering why he hadn’t turned the music down if he wanted to talk. I toyed with the idea of whether to accept a lift or not if he offered me one. The thought of being trapped with him in a car had always been a dream of mine, but after everything else that had happened today, I didn’t know whether I had the strength to spend even one more second in his scintillating company. But I was tired and I wanted to get home as quickly as possible. The thought of racing through London in his very expensive sports car, or trudging through traffic on a crammed public bus for a good thirty minutes made my mind up. I’d accept the lift if he offered. If he was sarcastic with me, I could just ignore him. Maybe he’d even mellow a little and I’d get to see what he was really like when he wasn’t in the same room as Amy.
He slowly lifted his hand, curling his finger to beckon me toward the car.
I took one step forward, stopping abruptly as he held his hand up in a halt position. Now what was he doing?
“You really are very wet!” he said before reaching forward and flicking a small silver switch on the central console. The music died, leaving the sound of the engine idling.
“No shit, Einstein. It has just poured down,” I said, my voice edged with sarcasm.
His jaw tightened at my response, and his eyes drifted down my body again.
“Hot pink?” he said, although it sounded more like a question.
I knew exactly what he was referring to. My cheeks heated as I pulled at the front of my cardigan, but it was no use. It wouldn’t stretch to cover my lower body. Knowing there was nothing I could do about my see-through dress, I gritted my teeth and offered Alex a stony stare. One that dared him to continue with his next response.
“I like it,” he said.  “Not as slutty at red.”
My body tensed. My nostrils flared as more heat flushed my face. Did he just refer to me as being slutty?
He smiled before pulling a sudden poker face. I was so wrapped up in thinking of a response to his somewhat undisguised insult that I didn’t see the bus approach.
“Shit,” I murmured, as it rumbled past Alex’s car. The next bus wasn’t due for another hour.
Alex watched the bus as it disappeared down the road and then turned to face me.
“See you tomorrow, Work Experience Girl.”
He grinned and winked at me as the car window hummed shut. The loud music started again and the engine revved several times before he sped off in the same direction as the bus.


About the Author

Growing up, Melody Winter showed a natural ability in art, a head for maths, and a tendency to write far too long English essays. Difficult to place in the world when she graduated, she pursued a career in teaching, but eventually ended up working in finance. Melody is convinced that the methodical time she spends working with numbers fuels her desire to drift into dream worlds and write about the illusory characters in her head.

Melody lives in North Yorkshire, England, with her husband and two teenage sons. When not dealing with football, rugby, and a whole plethora of ‘boy’ activities, she will be found scribbling notes for her stories, or listening to 80’s music on her IPod.

Melody has a tendency to fall head-over-heels in love with her main characters, even when they frustrate her and refuse to act the way she wants them to. She is a romance writer at heart and loves reading and writing about anything mythological or magical, as well as exploring the gritty side of love affairs and the complexities of being in love.

SACHAEL DREAMS was her debut novel, (REUTS Publications, USA) and the first in the New Adult Romantic Fantasy series—the ‘Mine Series’. The second book in the series, SACHAEL DESIRES’, was released in November 2015, and the remaining books in the series, SACHAEL DELUSIONS, and, SACHAEL DESTINY, are due to be released in the near future.

Melody has also self-published two books, INIQUITY, the first book in a Dark New Adult Romantic Fantasy series— ‘The Ascent’ (The second book in the series, ADVERSITY, is due for release later this year.) and STARSHINE, Melody’s first contemporary romance,  released 29th May 2017.

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Starshine is exclusive to Amazon and part of KU 

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PROMO Blitz: The Buddha Made Me Do It @marlamartenson #memoir #nonfiction #excerpt


Spiritual Memoir
Date Published: 5-25-16
Publisher: Cupid’s Press

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What starts as a search for a decorative Buddha statuette leads one woman on a spiritual journey that will change everything.

Marla lives the good life in Los Angeles—house, pool, her own business helping Cupid find love for LA’s most discriminating singles. Her handsome and ardent hubby Adolfo performs at an exclusive steak house in Beverly Hills. He tends to scoff at Marla’s green juice, vegan diet, yoga, and daily affirmations and can be a teensy bit of a control freak.

A discarded Buddha statuette that Adolfo suddenly can’t live without sends Marla searching through New Age boutiques along with her skeptical friend Julie. They are soon schooled by a charismatic “Goddess,” delving ever deeper into self-realization, conversations with angels, pendulums, candle “Magick,” Reiki, crystal healing, and more. Attend a Hindu Bajan? Sure. Orgasmic Meditation? (Wait, what…?) Maybe not that one. 

Growing in her spirituality, yet exceedingly frustrated with some of her persnickety clientele—aging men who see themselves as Dorian Grays, worthy of exquisite young women—Marla’s world is shifting. She achieves certifications as an energy healer and encourages Julie to sample the concoction Julie calls “green gunk” and other healthy practices to help her conquer an addiction to unavailable men. Marla deepens her communication with the Beyond while Adolfo, always so practical, asks, “Have you lost your mind? Are you hearing voices? Angels aren’t real, come on!” Matters grow worse when certain psychics warn of “dangerous low-vibrational entities” and rabidly disagree with each other. 

Her alternating universes give Marla spiritual whiplash, yet she discovers the LITE way to balance the human carnival with a transformational spiritual journey.


Excerpt

Glad that I wore a cozy sweater on that cold November evening, I walked with Julie down the long driveway. The temple was set up in a garage, carpeted and adorned with altars, statues, paintings of various saints, and candles, transforming it into a Hindu shrine.
We stopped at a sign posted on the wall outside. Women were informed that if they happened to be on their period, they should please sit outside in the driveway whilst partaking in the bhajan.
SERIOUSLY?
Julie and I gave each other a look that conveyed our mutual assessment: this is fucked up.
We seemed to be the first ones to arrive, and a wholesome-looking guy of about forty introduced himself as Ken and invited us to enter the garage/temple.
“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the floor. He and his wife would be leading the bhajan, he explained, adding that they had lived in India for many years, becoming enamored with the Hindu faith. Julie and I selected a spot near the giant statue of Shirdi Sai Baba and sat cross-legged on the floor. “We also lead fire pujas once a week. You must come.”
Julie and I were definitely interested in attending a fire puja, a ritualistic form of worship that has been used throughout the temples of India for thousands of years. The word puja comes from two Sanskrit words which together mean an act of purification of the mind, drawing in virtuous qualities while removing bad qualities or karma, essentially attracting positive energies and dissolving negativity.
Ken told us that Shirdi Sai Baba was one of the foremost sadgurus (a true guru) in India and lived in Shirdi, located in the state of Maharashtra, India for sixty years. It is said that though Shirdi Sai Baba is not alive in flesh and blood, he still lives and blesses his devotees wherever they may be. A large black and white framed photograph of the guru, sitting on the ground barefoot intrigued me. His hands, feet, and simple clothing looked filthy, a piece of cloth covered his head and tied in the back. His expression was serious and his eyes penetrating. The photo evoked someone who needed nothing, but had everything. I made a mental note to find out more about this guru.
A few other people finally arrived and took their places on the floor next to us. We chatted with a cute guy who was originally from Bulgaria and was a regular there.
“It’s very powerful to chant and sing with other beautiful souls,” he said. “I come every week.”
Ken and his wife, Lida took their seats in front of us, and passed out some instruments along with sheet music with lyrics so that we could sing along. I chose a tambourine, and Julie selected maraca made out of a gourd. Ken and Lida started the bhajan, Ken on the guitar and Lida on the harmonium, a reed instrument with a sound similar to the accordion. I was surprised at how small the group was, only half a dozen of us. We all chanted and sang in Hindi.
Om Guru Om Guru
Paragpara guru omkara guru tavasharanam
Sukhakarshubakar hey parameshwara
Brahma paraparta vasharanam
Om Guru Om Guru
After an hour, Julie gave me the look. It clearly said, okay, how much longer is this going to go on for?
I glanced at my watch and whispered, “Should be only another half an hour.”
We struggled on for another forty-five minutes as an Indian couple arrived, baby in tow, plates of food in hand. They placed the food at the feet of Shirdi Sai Baba and joined us in the chanting. Ten minutes later, three more Indian people arrived, bearing plates of food and placing them at the altar. Fifteen minutes later, four more with more food. Julie’s stomach growled. We squirmed. My butt was sore, and I longed to stretch. I was not feeling the uplifting love I’d come for. Seated right smack in front of Ken and Lida, Julie and I had to communicate with our eyes, strained looks, and subtle nods. The place was lovely, as well as the people, but this was definitely not our thing.
I finally mouthed to Julie, “I can’t take it anymore.”
Julie stifled a laugh, and rolled her eyes.
Ken shot Julie a look of disapproval.
I felt like I was fourteen again and back in Miss Judy’s dance class. My BFFs, Joni and Tracy, and I had smoked a joint in the parking lot before tap class and couldn’t stop giggling as we shuffled off to Buffalo. All the while a frustrated Miss Judy shot scowls of disapproval.
The memory triggered a giggle, which also set Julie off. Uncontrollable laughter welled up, and we buried our faces in our hands, attempting to stifle the guffaws and giggles. Ken was glaring at us. Some people just don’t get the Laughing Buddha.
I poked Julie in the side, “Come on, let’s go!”
We jumped up and flew out the garage door like Aladdin on his magic carpet.
Still giggling as we sped away towards Ventura Blvd., Julie turned to me, her face flushed. “Okay, Marla, that was painful.”
One more round of laughter burst forth, completely uncensored this time.
“It was truly not our thing, but I really want to go to the fire puja.”
“Are you kidding? We can never show our faces over there again.”
“I suppose not.”
And yet it had proven an excellent modality—the laughter, actually; the meeting, not so much. I felt spiritually juiced, happy, and terrific. I like to think our angels and guides were enjoying themselves with us as well. That bhajan was the epitome of the confusion of spirituality with serious disciplined self-control—even though we were sitting on the floor shaking gourds and singing what to us were mostly nonsense syllables. There should have been all kinds of laughter and light-heartedness at that session. The Buddha loves to laugh.

About the Author


Born in Tacoma, Washington, “The City of Destiny,” Marla was destined to move to Los Angeles where she shoots her arrow of love on a daily basis as a professional matchmaker, helping countless couples connect with their soul mates.

She is the author of three memoirs, Diary of a Beverly Hills Matchmaker, Hearts on the Line and The Buddha Made Me Do It.

Marla has been interviewed on the Today Show, WGN Chicago Morning News, San Diego Living, Urban Rush, CTV Calgary, Better TV, KUSI San Diego Morning Show, and over 100 radio shows including Coast to Coast AM with George Noory.

Her husband Adolfo has asked her, “Marlita, do you want to go to the moon too?” referring to her many interests—a true Gemini. Yet nothing has fascinated her like her profound adventure far beyond the moon and into the vastness of cosmic spirituality.

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Reading Addiction Blog Tours

Sunday, May 28, 2017

Tour Kick Off: 7 Days With You by @hugosa #giveaway #youngadult #yaromance



YA Romance
Date Published: 11/04/2017
 Publisher: Leap of Faith Publishing


Sean Johnson's life as a small-town farmhand has been nothing but predictable, but when he meets Sophia Hillingdon at the local animal sanctuary, she gets him out of an eighteen-year rut, away from the mundane existence on the farm, and a grieving, drunken father.

Sophia is the first person who understands him and makes him believe that he might get out of their small town, who tells him, he has the potential to be whoever he wants to be and do whatever he wants to do.

But as their relationship unfolds, it is the most devastating of news that will change both of them forever.

Hugo Driscoll is a 25-year-old British author and content writer for an online publication in London.
​When he's not working, you can usually find him writing in the basements of cafes or looking serious in black and white photos.
You can also find Hugo on Twitter, Facebook, and his personal blog, which he updates regularly.
Seven Days with You is his first novel.

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May 28 - Eskie Mama Reads - Excerpt
May 29 - Spunk N Sassy - Excerpt
May 30 - For Love of Books4 - Spotlight
May 31 - Books, Dreams, Life - Excerpt
June 1 - A Life Through Books - Interview
June 2 - Charline Ratcliff - Spotlight
June 3 - The Avid Reader - Excerpt
June 5 - Beach Bound Books - Spotlight
June 6 - My Reading Addiction - Interview
June 9 - Crystal's Chaotic Confessions - Excerpt
June 10 - Making It Happen - Excerpt
June 12 - Jazzy's Book Reviews - Excerpt
June 13 - The Indie Express - Review
June 16 - Texas Book Nook - Review
June 17 - Chosen By You Book Club - Excerpt
June 18 - T's Stuff - Interview
June 19 - Sascha Darlington - Review
June 20 - Cloe Michael's Reads - Interview
June 23 - RABT Reviews - Wrap Up