Cover Reveal: Swimming to Tokyo by Brenda St. John Brown

Title: Swimming to Tokyo
Author: Brenda St. John Brown
Publisher: Spencer Hill Contemporary
Date of Publication: July 28, 2014

The rules for swimming are simple:

Rule #1: There is no lifeguard on duty.

Since her mom died three years ago, nineteen-year-old Zosia Easton’s been treading water. Living at home. Community college. Same old Saturday nights. So when her father breaks the news he’s taken a job transfer—and by the way, it means renting out the house that’s been her refuge—a summer in Tokyo feels like it just might be a chance to start swimming again.

Rule #2: Beware of unexpected currents.

Finn O’Leary has spent God knows how many years trying to drown out his past. Juvenile detention. Bad decisions. Worse choices. He’s managed to turn it around – MIT, Dean’s List, a sexier-than-thou body with a smile to match – at least on the surface. When his mom asks him to spend the summer with her, Tokyo seems as good a place as any to float through the summer.

Rule #3: Swim at your own risk.

About Brenda St. John Brown


Spotlight + Giveaway: LoveLines by S. Walden

Title: LoveLines (The Wilmington Saga #1)
Author: S. Walden
Date of Publication: March 25, 2014
Genre: adult contemporary romance

Arrive at work at 7:58 A.M. sharp. Check. Count forty-seven steps to cubicle. Check. Arrange pens in their red-blue-black-green-purple order of importance. Check. Apply hand sanitizer before opening email. Double check.

And that’s just the first few minutes of her work day.

Thirty-one-year-old proofreader Bailey Mitchell is a slave to her tics. She inherited Obsessive Compulsive Disorder from her father, and it’s done nothing but inhibit her love life. She’s run the gamut of boyfriends—none of them willing or able to cope with her condition.

Enter 32-year-old Reece Powell, her new coworker at Beach Elite Marketing Firm. He’s more than willing to cope. He finds her habits cute and quirky . . . for now. Reece wins her over, and life coasts along for them until Bailey experiences a devastating blow. Tragedy exacerbates her OCD, and Reece realizes her tics aren’t so cute and quirky anymore. Just like all the others, he has the choice to leave.

But Reece isn’t like all the others.
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“Annie!” I squealed, running and scooping her up before she had the chance to escape. I rained kisses all over her face. She was clearly confused, but she seemed to like it. The evidence? She dropped her doll and squeezed my neck.

Erica stared at me through narrowed eyes. “No one, including me, likes my children that much. What is going on?”

Annie giggled on cue, like she understood her mother’s words. I laughed outright.

“Your momma’s silly, isn’t she? Isn’t she?” I asked, poking Annie’s sides.

“Oh my God, who are you?” Erica demanded. “Where’s my BFF who promised me she’d never have children so I could live vicariously through her? I swear to God if you’re pregnant…”

“Calm down,” I said over the top of Annie’s head. She twisted in my arms signaling she was over my show of affection. I placed her on the floor beside her discarded doll. “How would I even be pregnant?”

“Sex. It’s called sex,” Erica replied. She finished folding the last of Little Noah’s shirts, then tossed it in the laundry basket.

“Don’t say s-e-x in front of the baby!” I chided.

“B, she doesn’t know what sex is.”

“She’ll repeat it.”

“Who cares?”

“Oh, so you want to be the mother with the kid who knows the bad words?” I asked.

“Bad word?” Erica asked, laughing.

“You know what I mean,” I said. “You want to be the mother who all the other mothers gossip about? Like about how bad your parenting skills are?”

Erica placed her hand on her hip. “Yeah, I do. Fuck ‘em. Fuck all those mothers. Fuck their playdates and mommy groups and fucking Melissa and Doug puzzles. Fuck their running strollers and baby couture and breastfeeding advice. Fuck their—”



I looked down at the floor, but Annie was gone. She’d walked away somewhere, no doubt the kitchen since that seemed to be her favorite place to play.

About S. Walden

S. Walden used to teach English before making the best decision of her life by becoming a full-time writer. She lives in Georgia with her very supportive husband, who prefers physics textbooks over fiction and has a difficult time understanding why her characters must have personality flaws. She is wary of small children, so she has a Westie instead. She is the USA Today bestselling author of Going Under. When she’s not writing, she’s thinking about it.

She loves her fans and loves to hear from them. Email her at and follow her twitter feed at @swaldenauthor.


Cover Reveal: Sharing You by Molly McAdams

Title: Sharing You (Sharing You #1)
Author: Molly McAdams
Publisher: William Morrow
Date of Publication: July 1, 2014

Twenty-three year old, Kamryn Cunningham has left all she’s ever known and moved to a small town where no one knows her name, who her parents are, or her social status in the horseracing world. Months after opening her own bakery and evading attempts of being set up by her new best friend, she meets Brody. Kamryn fights the instant pull between them because there’s a detail she can’t dismiss. Brody’s married.

To say that twenty-six year old, Brody Saco has had a rough marriage would be an understatement. After marrying his pregnant girlfriend, he spends the next six years in a relationship filled with hatred, manipulation and guilt involving a tragedy that happened five years earlier. When he keeps running into his sister-in-law’s best friend, Kamryn, he can’t ignore that she makes him feel more with just one look than his wife ever has; and soon he can’t continue fight his feelings for her.

When staying apart proves to be too difficult, Brody and Kamryn enter a relationship full of stolen moments and nights that end too soon while they wait for Brody to file for divorce. But the guilt that comes with their relationship may prove to be too much for Kamryn, and Brody might not be strong enough to face the tragedy from his past in order to leave his conniving wife.

Pre-order from Amazon | B&N | The Book Depository

About Molly McAdams

Molly grew up in California but now lives in the oh-so-amazing state of Texas with her husband and furry four-legged daughters. When she’s not diving into the world of her characters, some of her hobbies include hiking, snowboarding, traveling, and long walks on the beach … which roughly translates to being a homebody with her hubby and dishing out movie quotes. She has a weakness for crude-humored movies, fried pickles and loves curling up in a fluffy comforter during a thunderstorm … or under one in a bathtub if there are tornados. That way she can pretend they aren’t really happening.

Accompanying Tweets to The Lover’s Dictionary by David Levithan: G

gadabout, n.:  At what point do you start to feel you’re living from drink to drink?  You’re not there yet, but you may slip there soon.

gain, v.:  Understanding of yourself and understanding of the world come hand in hand with understanding the person you love.

gait, n.:  You stride like you know what you’re doing, but I can see the waver when you come to an intersection you don’t yet feel is yours.

galaxy, n.:  As many words as stars, as many thoughts as spaces between.

gall, n.: Nobody has the right to tell another person who to love.  True love is never a dictate or an obligation.

gallant, adj.:  You make me want to open doors for you.

gallery, n.:  Only when you link them together can you see how images capture time, and how time captures us.

gallivant, v.:  Let’s skip over the need for sleep and let the bubbles hang in the air a little longer.

galore, adj.:  We should all want a love galore, an ever-abundant variety pack spilling out of its boxes.

galumph, v.:  Without coffee, I return to Neanderthal form, and you stand aside as I push through the kitchen and grunt.

galvanize, v.:  My will is powered in part by you.  Even if I don’t want to do it, I will do it if I see you want me to.

gambit, n.:  There were nights I pretended my roommates were around, just so we could go to your place instead.

gamble, v.:  The minute you choose to gamble with trust, the odds turn against you.

gambol, v.:  You stride toward me like it’s the first day of spring, which I know means there’s something good you want to tell me.

game, n.:  Along the way you piece together some of the rules, but you never get to see the full board.

gamer, n.:  I’m not jealous or anything, but I will point out that Grand Theft Auto will never love you back.

gamut, n.: You don’t have to run; it sometimes cycles past you in a single string of thoughts. You stand still, wondering where you’ll land.

gape, v.:  Sometimes being too open can cause someone else to be too open in a different way.

garbled, adj.:  The words tumble and twist around one another as they come out of my mouth;  I need you to unwind them, to know I mean well.

garden, n.:  We will survive under the frost.

gargle, v.:  I love your ritualistic peculiarities.

garish, adj.:  The times we have highlights are usually our lowpoints.

garland, n.:  I’d rather have this than a halo.

garrulous, adj.:  The more you drink, the more expert you become on everything besides gauging my reactions.

gaslight, v.: Some nights I wonder if this is all a trick, that one day I’ll open the door and find you laughing at footage of my stupidity.

gasp, v.:  The body speaks before the mind kicks in.

gatecrash, v.:  Love crafts its invitations, but the savvy suitor knows how to get inside without one, the unexpectedly welcome guest.

gatekeeper, n.:  You are the only one who holds the key to yourself.

gather, v.:  The comfort and consolation of bringing your friends close

gauge, v.:  I wear my fear on my cuticles, my joy in the corners of my mouth.

gawk, v.:  I try to avoid the MTV meltdowns, because reveling in others’ misfortune draws me away from my own empathy.

gay, adj.:  Synonym for happy.

gaze, v.:  It’s as if your eyes have become a source of light.  The rest of the room has fallen dark.

gazillion, n.:  When considering love, it is important to realize that something can be imponderable and yet still exist.

gear, n.:  Me: “I don’t want to date someone who buys hiking boots and then never leaves the city.” You: “What are hiking boots?”

geek, n.:  You used to hide your oddities under your bed, but now you wear them with pride.

genealogy, n.:  I want to be so happy at my wedding that even the most reluctant ancestors would dance for us, wherever they may be.

generalization, n.:  A too-easy way to see a much more complicated world.

generate, v:  The welcome of your warmth on a chilly night.

generation, n.:  Our love is shaped by our time.

generic, adj.:  Don’t say to me all the things that other people say.  I want words that are crafted, not manufactured.

generosity, n.: The mingling of patience and kindness and sacrifice, doing unto others better than you would do for yourself.

genesis, n.: There’s no single moment I can say was the first time I loved you. It was a gathering of moments that added up to become love.

genius, n.:  Be smart enough to know that you can’t be smart about everything.

genre, n.:  I often want my life to be a romantic comedy, which is quite romantic of me, and often leads to comedy.

gentle, adj.:  Sometimes I need you to be a reassuring whisper.

gentleman, n.:  Possessing a manhood that’s carved by consideration, not a desire for control.

gentrify, v.:  You cannot remodel me into a hipper version of myself.  I am, at heart, an old neighborhood.

genuine, adj.: When you expose the flaws in your own words, because you know they are the best approximation you can give.

geography, n.: Ultimately the lines drawn upon us aren’t as important as the ones that naturally occur. We are the world as seen from above.

geology, n.: The upper layer is skin, but the deepest is rock.  Sometimes you make it feel like a boulder, sometimes a gem.

geomancy, n.:  The first time I saw the inside of your apartment, I tried to read it for signs of our future.

geomorphic, adj.:  I love the crags of you, the isthmuses of you, the promontories, the slopes, the subtle striations.

geophagy, n.:  Love can make you feel like you are eating earth, and it can also make it so that you can somehow survive on dirt.

germane, adj.:  What you say when I’m not around matters just as much.

germinate, v.:  You were not the seed or the soil.  You were the rain.

gerrymander, v.:  Positioning pillows so that half the bed really becomes a third.

gerund, n.:  If we wanted to be most true to its meaning, we would not call it love, but loving.

gesticulate, v.:  When you argue, your hand karate-chops the air in front of you, as if it wants to show that it’s on your side.

gesture, n.:  You offer me the last piece of everything, including yourself.

getaway, n.:  The farther we get from the city, the less the city gets to us.

geyser, n.: Your explosions come in such a predictable pattern that I imagine I could sell tickets, if I thought anyone would want to watch.

ghastly, adj.:  You say you’re dressing up as the person you could’ve ended up being, because that’s the scariest costume you can think of.

ghost, n.:  What you see when memory takes a shape.

ghostwritten, adj.:  Sometimes I feel like I am a hollow vessel for someone else’s words; their passage fails to ground me.

gibberish, n.:  Half penguin cold awake, mother half mother! deadline ostrich truth, talking strawberry in your inkjet sleep.

gibbous, adj.:  You don’t see all of me, but you see more of me than you don’t.

giddy, adj.: Our heartbeats accelerate, and our lives are accelerating too, out of the shallows and up to the helium heights of joy.

gift, n.: All I want is your time and attention.  No need to wrap it.

gigantic, adj.: “When I was little,” you confess, “my one aspiration was to make the biggest rubber-band ball in the world.”

giggle, n.:  The laugh that escapes like a child running from a classroom.

gild, v.:  The sunrise filters onto you through the blinds, and I momentarily lose my breath.

gimcrack, adj.:  Our love looks strong enough to bear the weight of our foibles, but what if that’s merely a veneer?

gimmick, n.: Bombarded by advice on how to keep the spark, we must remember that love is not advertising, just as advertising is never love.

gird, n.: Wear too much armor and you won’t be able to move at all.

girly, adj.:  I refuse to think of this as an insult or a diminishment, because most of the girls I know are awesome.

gist, n.:  It’s complicated, but I love you.

give, v.:  Not the opposite of take, but it’s complement.

glacial, adj.:  You think it moves slowly, but look how fast the ice falls when the glacier breaks.

glad, adj.:  Thankful on your behalf.

gladiator, n.:  I need you to help me fight off the lions of doubt.

glamorous, adj.: We’re suckers for cigarette smoke in an old movie, from the lips of a dame know knows too much, but should know better.

glance, v.:  It is more than just seeing.  It is seeing with intent, a connection looking to find its other end.

glare, v.:  The alarm has gone off inside of me and I am trying to get it inside of you too.

glass, n.:  Every time you see through me, it renders me more breakable, so take care with how hard you press your palm.

gleam, v.: Let us shine from the corner of the eye, the unblinding glimmer, dazzling companion.

glean, v.:  I live among the sidenotes of your history, but only read them when I feel I have to.

gleeful, adj.:  The right song comes on the radio and we play it even louder than our memory of it, so we can be within it again.

glib, adj.:  The dismissive twist in your tone, amplified by my complex inferiority.

glide, v.:  Let’s take a holiday from being concerned, and instead be weightless in each other’s company.

glimpse, v.:  There is nothing so tender as looking at you and seeing the person I am going to be loving forty years from now.

glitch, n.:  What you’ve just said has stood itself between my synapses; I do not understand why I am unable to understand.

glitter, v.:  I love it when you shine, if only for an instant.

gloat, v.:  When one lover, despite knowing better, can’t resist the opportunity to prove the other lover in some way diminished.

glom, v.:  In a crowded party, I tag on to you like a Sherpa, even if the only thing I carry is your ever-heavier resentment.

gloomy, adj.:  We all have to be the Eeyore at some point.

glorious, adj.:  My happiness is usually a steady hum, but there are moments with you that require trumpets.

glossarist, n.: The topic at hand is love, and thus the words are plentiful, if hard to collect, since the emotions swirl them so.

glossolalia, n.:  We each speak our own language, largely recognizable but every now and then plunged into a deeply personal obscurity.

glow, v.:  In a person, a visible manifestation of love or the anticipation of love.

glower, v.:  When your expression turns into a gloomy flower, wilting from disdain.

glue, n.:  I want you to stick with me without thinking you’re stuck with me.

glum, adj.:  The mood after we not-quite argue, leaving me not-quite sure and not-quite right.

glut, n.:  I can only take so many emotions at once.

glutton, n.:  Actually, you compulsively avoid punishment, devouring the near-misses and digesting them as innocence.

glyphic, adj.: Sometimes words create the picture.  But other times the words themselves are the only picture you need to understand.

go, v.:  This word wastes no time making up its mind.

goad, v.:  I provoke you in the mistaken, temporary belief that I have to knock down your mistaken, temporary wall of silence.

goal, n.: One of the posts is individuality and the other is togetherness; the aim is to get it right in between, past the keeper of doubts.

goatee, n.:  I would never do this to you.  We both can live without a patch of goatishness.

gobble, v.:  When I behave like a turkey, I often want to eat my words.

godsend, n.:  Ultimately, it doesn’t matter to me how you got here.  It’s that you’re here.

gold, n.:  Of course it can stay.  It will last a long time beyond us.  It’s not just a matter of the light. It’s a matter of metal.

golden, adj.:  The subtle thread sewn through life, the vein of wonder that is always there but only sometimes visible.

gone, adj.:  The irrevocable death of presence and sound; the inevitable birth of absence and echo.

goner, n.: I never want to be so far gone that I don’t realize you’re almost gone.

gongoozler, n.:  This is what you become if you don’t take charge of your own life.

good, adj.: You should choose this so much that it no longer feels like a choice.

goodnight, n.:  I want the last words I hear to be yours.

goof, n.: Not all screw-ups are harmful.  Some need to embraced by humor, until they dissolve in its lightest of grips.

goofball, n.:  Tends to bounce rather than roll.

gorge, n./v.:  Feed so much on the drama inherent in misery and you will soon find you’ve created a chasm between yourself and reality.

gorgeous, adj.:  A luscious kind of beauty, jazz-dazzling in its magnetism.

gormless, adj.:  When you leave your phone at home and realize you’ve forgotten how to live life unaided.

gospel, n.:  The song I can sing with the most conviction is my love for you, and my love for this imperfect world.

gossamer, adj.:  Even the most slender of connections can be beautiful if seen in the right light.

gossip, n.:  Communal hearsay; an attempt to take your story away from you; not to be heeded.

goth, adj.:  You do not wear black on the outside because you’re black on the inside, and thus will never qualify for this adjective.

gourmand, n.:  You can discourse for at least forty minutes on the pros and cons of various cupcake establishments in the city.

grab, v.:  I will never drown in you, but when drowning, you may be the thing I reach for.

grace, n.:  The wherewithal and peace you need to bring to love, and that love brings to you.

graded, adj.:  The longer we’re together, the more it feels like essay questions – no more of the true/false of our early days.

gradual, adj.:  The knowledge that love is going to happen can be instant, but love itself takes time.

graduation, n.: You’re not smiling for me; you’re smiling for the camera. I see you as you were, and feel fondness for all you don’t know.

graft, v.:  We don’t have to have a kid. Our DNA entwines in other ways – by building our lives together, we build a life together

grail, n.:  “You can go your whole life looking for a cup,” you tell me. “Or you can just drink from whatever’s around.”

grammar, n.:  What matters is that I know what you mean, not that you followed the rules to the letter.

grandeur, n.:  We feel a certain satisfaction when we don’t order the cheapest red on the menu.

grandstand, v.: Parade all you want, but remember that no one wants to stand watching a parade for more than an hour or two.

granitic, adj.: You can’t build a skyscraper, a cathedral, or a relationship with just any stone. You have to find one that weathers well.

grant, v.:  I will make sure you are not alone in your wishing.

graphic, adj.:  [use your imagination here]

graphologist, n.:  It scares me to think that you could fall in love with someone before seeing his or her handwriting.

grapple, v.:  Of course we must wrestle with love.  It has so many moving parts.

grass, n.:  As we lay there, time slowed to the speed of the blades gently rising, no longer able to push us, only welcome us to stay.

gratitude, n.:  More elemental than thankfulness; what happens when the deep longing inside of us suddenly flows the other way.

grave, n./adj.:  You cannot bury me while I’m still alive.

gravity, n.:  Love is a force that grounds us without us having to feel its weight.

gray, adj.:  Some sink into blue while I tend to wade into gray.  It’s still a color, but an uninspiring one.

graze, v.:  You think that words can only scrape the surface, but if there are enough of them, relentless, there will be no surface left.

greater, adj.:  There is no such equation as the sum of our parts.  Love adds imaginary numbers and makes us more than mere addition.

greed, n.:  In love, it’s the emotional hunger that makes me want to devour your time, your attention, your active affection.

greenhorn, n.:  No matter what stage of love you’re at, there’s always something that will make you feel new at it.

greeting, n.:  Over time, we’ve shifted from “hello” to “good morning,” from “hi” to needing nothing but the sound of your voice.

gregarious, adj.:  The intersection of your sense of humor and your sense of daring, often amplified by alcohol or sex.

gremlin, n.: The inner trickster that doesn’t want us to think things can go well, and tries to prove itself right through sabotage.

gridlock, n.:  You run straight through caution and we find ourselves stuck. You curse. I think it’s your fault.  We aren’t going anywhere.

grief, n.: Everyone goes through it, but still it’s so specific. We lose, and don’t even have the consolation of losing in the same way.

grievance, n.:  When I applied to be your boyfriend, I was given no indication of how much overtime there’d be.

grifter, n.:  When I get paranoid, I try to reassure myself that the thrill of fooling me isn’t as powerful as actually loving me.

grim, adj.:  It’s not seeing the end coming; it’s feeling that the end happened a while ago, and you’re just now cluing in.

grimoire, n.:  Words conjure.

grin, n.:  A smile can have premeditation, but when you grin, I know it’s coming from the same place as a look of shock.

grinch, n.:  “Something about mass cheer brings coal to your heart,” you say. “And that brings me joy.”

grind, v.:  I don’t know which is worse – to stand on the sides and watch, or to be on the dancefloor and the subject of your gyrations.

grip, v.: You don’t change the subject so much as make it slide out of my grasp. It’s still there, but it’s fallen beyond my reach.

grizzly, adj.: 6:30 a.m., no coffee.

groan, v.: 6:25 a.m., no coffee.

grocery, n.: Eventually you know which kinds of cereal the other likes, a consumer intimacy built over many baskets.

groggy, adj.: Hit the grog too hard and the grog will hit you back. You won’t lose your marbles, but they’ll be shaken.

groom, n./v.: I am afraid of it because it feels like the kind of role that every hair to be in place.

groove, n.:  The LP tells us — love can’t be a smooth passage. Without the irregularities playing with the path, there won’t be any music.

gross, adj.:  I am reminded of the toothbrush incident, and have to remember to ask if, ten years later, he still finds it wrong to share.

grouchy, adj.:  After a while, we learned to get through each other’s terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days.

grounded, adj.:  Am I in trouble, or am I just preventing us from blowing away?

groundling, n.:  It’s okay if you don’t like the things I like, but you have to dislike them for a good reason.

group, n.:  I was intimidated by the communal mind and communal memory of your pack of friends.

grovel, v.:  Love should never fall to its knees.

grow, v.:  In love, you don’t just mark your growth with a line by the doorway.  You take that pencil and draw doorways instead.

grudge, n.:  “I barely even dated him,” you say, and instinctively I know his version would be more bitter.

grumble, v.:  The hiccups of guilt and protest you make when you don’t want to do something but are going to do it for me anyway.

guarantee, n.:  “I will never break your heart,” you said, and I thought, no, you should never say such things.

guarded, adj.:  My fear tries to keep my secrets locked down, but my hope keeps slipping you the key.

guardian, n.:  The most important thing is to learn to protect yourself.

guess, v.:  To take all the things I know about you and bet that they’re true.

guest, n.: It was like having an extra person lean over the side of our rowboat; we weren’t going to sink, but everything was off balance.

guffaw, v.:  Most of your laughs rise from the chest, but every now and then I get one that comes from below your knees.

guidance, n.: Talking me through the dark to get to the answer rather than simply flipping on the lights and saying, “Look– there it is.”

guile, n.:  Your schemes against others backfire when I contemplate you trying them on me.

guilt, n.:  I know you feel bad and I want you to feel bad a little bit longer, until I feel better.

gullible, adj.: You can’t fool anyone into thinking it’s not in a lover’s dictionary.  From experience, we know that it is.

gunshy, adj.: Whether you pulled the trigger or were on the other end, the impact of the end always makes the next relationship hard.

gush, v.:  The lancet of someone else’s talent breaks through the skin of my self-conscious reserve.

gut, n.:  Why do we say that instinct is kept in the same place where bile is stored?

gutterball, n.:  “If we can’t have kids, then can we at least have a flamingo?” you ask, as a way of bringing up kids.

gypsy, n.: What if love is meant only to stay for a little while, then move on?  What if we are trying to force it to go against its nature?

Playlist: Liv, Forever by Amy Talkington

Liv, Forever

Title: Liv, Forever
Author: Amy Talkington
Publisher: Soho Teen
Date of Publication: March 11, 2014

When Liv Bloom lands an art scholarship at Wickham Hall, it’s her ticket out of the foster system. Liv isn’t sure what to make of the school’s weird traditions and rituals, but she couldn’t be happier. For the first time ever, she has her own studio, her own supply of paints. Everything she could want.

Then she meets Malcolm Astor, a legacy student, a fellow artist, and the one person who’s ever been able to melt her defenses. Liv’s only friend at Wickham, fellow scholarship kid Gabe Nichols, warns her not to get involved, but life is finally going Liv’s way, and all she wants to do is enjoy the ride.

But Liv’s bliss is doomed. Weeks after arriving, she is viciously murdered and, in death, she discovers that she’s the latest victim of a dark conspiracy that has claimed many lives. Cursed with the ability to see the many ghosts on Wickham’s campus, Gabe is now Liv’s only link to the world of the living. To Malcolm.

Together, Liv, Gabe, and Malcolm fight to expose the terrible truth that haunts the halls of Wickham. But Liv must fight alone to come to grips with the ultimate star-crossed love.

Purchase from Amazon | B&N | The Book Depository


Instead of making a playlist for the book, this is a bit different. I’m posting the playlist featured in the book, the playlist Malcolm made for Liv which he called Liv, Forever. Yes, that’s where the title of the book came from. I still have so many feelings left over from reading LIV, FOREVER and I couldn’t let go yet so here I am. Here goes!

What a great playlist, right? Clearly shows Amy’s great taste in music (She wrote about music for magazines before!) Hope you enjoyed (and made you interested/buy/mark as to-read LIV, FOREVER) the songs!

About Amy Talkington

Amy Talkington is an award-winning screenwriter and director living in Los Angeles. Before all that she wrote about music for magazines like Spin, Ray Gun, Interview, and Seventeen (mostly just as a way to get to hang out with rock stars). As a teenager in Dallas, Texas, Amy painted lots of angsty self-portraits, listened to The Velvet Underground and was difficult enough that her parents finally let her go to boarding school on the East Coast. Liv, Forever is her first novel.

Review: Stealing the Groom by Sonya Weiss

Stealing the Groom

Title: Stealing the Groom
Author: Sonya Weiss
Publisher: Entangled Bliss
Date of Publication: March 10, 2014

Friends don’t let friends marry the wrong woman…

Chad Walker may be a take-no-chances man with a plan, but there’s no way Amelia Snyder is going to let her best bud marry Mean Girl #1—even if the wedding is solely so he can secure the controlling shares in his family’s company. But free-spirited Amelia’s at-the-altar groomnapping scheme takes a surprising turn when she ends up as the blushing bride instead.

Suddenly, with Amelia living in her handsome husband’s home—in his bedroom, no less—she starts to reconsider their strictly platonic arrangement. But Chad’s always been anti-risk and definitely anti-love, and betting a lifetime of best friendship on the chance at forever might be the biggest gamble of all.

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My Rating: 2 out of 5 stars

I bought this on a whim because it was on sale for only $0.99. I thought it would be just the perfect book when I need palate cleansing from all the review books and I wouldn’t feel pressured to review it because I bought it. HEA is certain + best friend romance + groomnapping + being trapped in a cabin/close proximity = sounds fun and shallow and fluffy and the exact read I was craving for last Wednesday. I did enjoy my time reading but this book was definitely just an okay read, which is why I gave it 2 stars.

The plot was predictable and the characters were stock ones. We have best friends who obviously like each other but both have their own issues about love. Amelia won’t stay in one place for too long and keeps running away. Chad doesn’t want to love so he wouldn’t lose himself when the one he loves leaves him. Two common characters we see in films and in books so getting to know them deeper wasn’t needed. The writing was okay (and I hate to say this but kind of “pedestrian”) and in the third person perspective with an omniscient narrator. I think the book could have benefited from a dual perspective from Amelia and Chad because their thoughts and feelings would have been more tangible in that way. The premise was flimsy and you could see through every plot arc from a mile away but that didn’t take away from the enjoyment of reading some light-hearted and breezy romance past midnight to reward myself for a hell week at school and work.

So even if technically speaking this book wasn’t great, if you could get past undermining the plot and overanalyzing everything and being a critical reader, you’ll at least smile or even have fun.

About Sonya Weiss

Sonya Weiss is a freelance writer and ghostwriter. Her published clips include feature newspaper articles, magazine articles, essays, children’s short stories and writing projects for business clients. She is a columnist at Families Online Magazine.

Her fiction has won honorable mention in various contests and she was the first place winner of Harlequin’s ‘The Baseball Diamond’ writing contest.

She’s represented by Nicole Resciniti of the Seymour Agency.

Accompanying Tweets to The Lover’s Dictionary by David Levithan: F

Sorry for the delay on posting these! I thought I already posted the words for F but apparently not…

fable, n.:  Sometimes you make me feel like one of those bears, wondering who’s been sleeping in my bed, who’s been eating all the porridge.

fabric, n.:  At first you feel the thread between you, and then, as the love grows, you feel it weaving into everything else.

fabulate, v.:  You can turn a dinner party into a cage match, or a wrong turn into a misadventure — a harmless storytelling lie.

facile, adj.:  Never dismiss anyone else’s pain.  I know I’ve had it easy, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be hard.

facsimile, n.:  When you go away, I ask you to leave a metaphor behind to keep me company. “I need you as colors need light,” you say.

fact, n.:  It should be the basis of certainty, but more often than not nowadays, it’s the basis of argument.

factor, v.: The five minutes of our morning goodbye can spell out my mood for hours throughout the day.

factotum, n.:  In love, there is no such thing as a specialist.  You are on call all the time, for everything.

facture, n.: Because it’s not what you tell me, it’s how you tell it.  The quality of the tone, not the words. I gauge your brushstrokes.

fade, v.:  Let the world go quiet around us so we don’t have to make noise to be heard.

failsafe, n.: I guard a small part of myself, invulnerable, because I know that’s where I will have to retreat if everything goes wrong.

failure, n.:  I don’t fear the damage as much as I fear the sadness the damage will cause.

faint, adj.:  Seeing your distraction, I wonder whose silhouette is walking through the room.

fair, adj.:  It’s a tricky thing, to hold on to your ideals and to hold other people to them.

faith, n.:  The choice that doesn’t feel like a choice; love is always greater than the sum of its evidence.

faithful, adj.:  Promise to hold on to me in a way you will not hold on to anyone else.

fake, adj.:  Even the most innocent are still afraid of being found out, because we are never fully comfortable with our own roles.

fall, v.:  That first night, you held on to me like we were both plunging through the air.

fallacy, n.:  You seem to believe things can fix themselves, but a relationship is no different from a broken teacup.

fallibilist, n.:  A life lived by the laws of scrutiny can only be lived in tiny fractions.

fallow, adj.:  When it gets to be so late that neither of us can pin down a thought, so we let the conversation rest for a while.

falsehood, n.:  The thing about lies is that they are hard to sustain; life gravitates naturally toward truth.

familial, adj.:  We have created our own blood between us. We have created our shared history, our shared traits.

familiar, adj.:  Even if I never fully know you, I will know you more than anyone else.

fancy, v./adj.: If you’re going to dress your words in ribbons and bows, I want there to be meaning underneath the decoration.

fanfare, n.:  The playful sweetness of your “Honey! I’m home!”

fantasize, v.:  You should never stare at your fantasy while you are having it.

far, adj.:  When you are outside of help’s distance, I feel it keenly.

farce, n.:  Those thin moments when love seems reduced to pantomime.

farewell, n.:  The word tells us: If we’re going to part, let us part as friends.

farouche, adj.:  Shyness sounds so much better as this, as if my timidity is somehow exotic, hidden behind the ripeness of the syllables.

farrago, n.:  Love is a confused mixture of hope, despair, and reality.

fascination, n.: Predictable as I say you are, I never know how you’ll respond, so I keep throwing out words, to see how they’re returned.

fashionable, adj.:  You forbid me from growing a beard, because you allege I will do it for the wrong reasons.

fat, adj.:  More than a measure of weight, this is a measure of the perceived inadequacy in trying to control it.

fate, n.:  You can only believe in this if you are willing to take everything else for granted, which I am not.

fathom, v.:  You send your empathy into the depths, to find the elusive swim of a sure explanation.

fatigue, n.:  When the unbearable seems to outweigh the bearable, and you are too tired to correct the scales.

faucet, n.:  Sometimes at night only one of us hears the drip.

fault, n.:  The desire for blame increases over time in a relationship, as does its needlessness.

faux, adj.:  Every time you use this word, I think of you as a fake.

faze, v.: Why do we think that lies are smooth to say?  For me it’s the truth that glides out, and the lies that fall rough on my tongue.

fealty, n.:  To love, you must vacate the concepts of owe and own.

fear, n.:  The bone-deep feeling that all your worst expectations have come true.

feasible, adj.:  I have never heard anyone say, “I love you within reason” – it’s just impossible to do.

feast, n.: The meal you cooked me wasn’t as important as being there to see how you danced and fussed with the ingredients.

feat, n.:  I never imagined anyone putting up with me for this long. I want to congratulate you.

febrifuge, n.:  When the pressure of life frenzies me into a heat of confusion, I need you to be the cold compress of focus and calm.

feckless, adj.: It’s safe to assume that we generally know each other’s thoughts by now, but it’s also safe to assume we’ll get some wrong.

federation, n.: I saw my parents as this form of government – a central ruling body, and then lesser bodies in charge of their own affairs.

feebleminded, adj.:  You laugh and say that your behavior (we found the keys in the toilet; no one flushed) is a preview of when we’re 80.

feed, v./n.:  If we unplug for even a weekend, the phantom limb pulls at us, back toward the trough.

feel, v.:  What if you get to the heart of me, and find that it’s dead, or was never born?

feign, v.:  It’s probably best if I don’t know who you want me to be, because then I don’t have to pretend to be that person.

felicific, adj.:  Fittingly, this word makes me happy just by existing.

fence, v.:  In our effort to keep things in, we inevitably keep things out.

fend, v.:  You’re the one who’d be worse off abandoned in a jungle, because there’d be no one around to laugh at your jokes.

feral, adj.:  This part of love particularly scares us, when our intellect is reduced to a pure, primal, uneducated want.

feretory, n.:  I still keep your number from that night folded in my wallet, a currency I will never spend.

fermata, n.:  Spend a day doing nothing with me;  hit the  pause button, let quiet be the music for once.

ferment, v.:  Bear with me — sometimes what I learn needs some time to shift from experience to knowledge.

ferocious, adj.:  I can only summon the lion when I need to defend myself; it will not show up for aggression.

ferry, v.:  If you cannot be the boat that carries me from this to that, then at least be the tide helping me along.

fervor, n.:  Sweep me away with strength as well as speed, the depth of your interest as well as the thrill of the chase.

fester, v.: It’s our stubborn refusal to treat the wound that makes it worse.

festive, adj.: I like it best when we celebrate holidays of our own invention, waking up on Sunday, say, and declaring it devoted to red.

fetching, adj.:  You dress yourself up to be a compliment magnet, and I can see your pride when the plan works.

fetish, n.:  I couldn’t even say what your feet look like.

feud, n.: Our armies only run a few people deep, friends on either side.  Better to join forces and take on greater enemies than each other.

fever, n:  Heat with an edge of delirium, not so much caught as incited.

fiasco, n.:  I told you to imagine me calling your mother by the word “Mom” and you were filled with laughing horror.

fib, n.: I can deal with the lesser lies, the ones told so I don’t feel worse.

fibril, n.:  It’s good to remember that the heart is not a unanimous object.

fickle, adj.:  The constant questioning of whether what you have is enough, and what you want is the right thing to have.

fiction, n.:  You accuse me of storytelling, and I remind you that all fiction is at least 90% emotional truth, layered over by invention.

fiddle, v.: It is a wise lover who knows if you control the music, you also control the steps. Resist the temptation to attach strings.

fidelity, n.:  The dictionary connects faithfulness with a clarity of sound, and it is right to do so. Our love should be high-fi.

fidget, v.:  Thoughts wander out of us, uncontrollable.

fieldcraft, n.:  Many observations of love cannot me made from a remove; knowledge of love is experiential.

fiendish, adj.:  I get home from a long day of work to find you’ve finished the leftovers I spent the past three hours anticipating.

fierce, adj.:  There are times I would claw through walls for you, and other times I would claw through walls to get away.

fight, v.: Escalates from an argument when you make it about more than the now, pressing on the fault line where who you are meets who I am.

figment, n.:  The currency of dreams.

figura, n.:  The dictionary says you can represent a fact or an ideal; I would rather you represent a good interpretation.

figurative, adj.:  This is how language dances about architecture, and we can approach an understanding of the things we grasp to know.

filament, n.:  Illumination does not come from enormity, but rather a fine focus that then expands into light.

file, v.: Yes, I intend to keep track of both our misdeeds, but more often than not, the folders will get misplaced.

filial, adj.: You have the same color eyes as your mother, but they’re different eyes. You share some of her anger, but it’s not the same.

filibuster, v.:  There is power in vowing that I will not stop until you have finally heard.

fill, v.:  It is mistake to think you can ever pour yourself enough into another person to make them more yours.

fillip, n.:  I am crying on the phone and you come over, put your hand on my back, and stay there for as long as it takes.

filmgoing, n.:  For bad movies, we talk as soon as the credits roll, but for good ones, you ask for a five-minute grace period.

filter, v.: It shifts to match the mood; during good times, you only remember other good times. When it’s bad, the trail only leads there.

filthy, adj.:  I ask you to talk dirty to me, and you laugh and murmur, “Two pigs in mud.”

finagle, v.:  As much as I’m unsettled by your charm with strangers, I do love it when it gets us free coffee and alcohol.

final, adj.: I think it’s the last time, I say “this is the last time,” and then, on the other side of it, the next time’s already here.

finance, n.:  You roll me over, kiss me, say, “So much for marrying rich.”  I smile and say, “Yeah, we both kinda botched that one.”

find, v.:  The nature of love is discovery, and discovery of that will lead you as far into yourself as it will into the ones you love.

fine, adj.:  When you tell me this is how you are, I know we’re in the realm of the adequate, where you can only stay for so long.

finesse, v.:  You are the smooth operator and I am the one who’s been warned against smooth operators, but fall for them anyway.

fingerprint, n.:  Our most identifying features are ones we can’t see until they leave a mark.

finicky, adj.:  Is your pasta really rendered inedible if it’s been touched by peas?

finite, adj.:  I can only give you so many chances.  You have been warned.

firebreak, n.:  Heat of the argument, you think you’ve reached my core indifference, but you’ve hit the cleared ground protecting the truth.

fireworks, n.:  We ooh and ahh like children, enjoying life that simply and that gloriously.

firmament, n.:  We want the tangibility of knowing, but are left with the ungrounded ephemerality of faith.

first, adj.:  I’d meant “I love you” before, but never with this entirety, never with all of my days contained within it.

firsthand, adj.:  I don’t want to rely on airwaves and pixels, words and wires.  I want you here, here, here.

fission, n.:  The closer you get, the more intense the explosion will be when you’re torn apart.

fissure, n.: No relationship can grow without also cracking;  the key is to use the cracks as handholds, to pull yourself up.

fisticuffs, n.:  You come home with a bloody nose and say you were defending your honor.  I ask you why, and you say you can’t remember.

fit, n./v.:  We must exercise the us-shaped space, so it can hold everything that we lodge into it.

fitful, adj.:  The first weeks of sleeping beside one another, navigating the space of two bodies in a bed, acquainting.

fixable, adj.:  There never was an instruction manual, so let’s rely on intuition here.

fixation, n.:  Largely aural; the way I hear silences as well as I hear words, and often misinterpret both.

fixture, n.:  How many requests does it take to get you to screw in a lightbulb?

fizzy, adj.:  “I’d rather be bourbon,” you say, “because champagne never lasts.”

fizzle, v.:  Some nights peak too early, leave you walking among the embers with too much time to think and too little light to go by.

focal, adj.: The truth is not in the eyes so much as it’s in where the eyes land.

fodder, n.:  I am not your material.  You can try to make me whatever you want, but that’s not me.

foe, n.:  Sometimes the person you love is your greatest rival for that love.

fog, v.:  We should be able to see the past clearer than we see the future, but that’s not how it is with us, is it?

fogey, n.:  I’ll admit, I love it when we natter and smirk with each other, as if auditioning to be an old couple together someday.

foible, n.:  A foible almost sounds collectible. We don’t consciously put them on display, but eventually you’ll meet them all.

foil, n./v.: I knew you could be my counterpart the night you held the tin-wrapped leftovers out to me and said, “Oh, no, foiled again!”

foist, v.:  Love is not something I’ve done to you.

fold, v.:  Our bodies curving, our lives bending into each other, the hearts make their enclosure because they know we’ll feel safer there.

folderol, n.: The word you mutter when you see the rows of valentine cards, Hallmark insincerity. Love, you say, can’t be pre-printed.

follicular, adj.: I told you it was neat to see our hair braided in the drain like that, and you said, “You have a weird sense of romance.”

follow, v.:  Even down the wrong turns, knowing they will still wind us to the right place.

folly, n.:  Spectacular foolishness that comes with spectacular failure, imagination betrayed.

fondness, n.:  When a person becomes one of the things you cherish about life.

fontanel, n.:  In the infancy of a relationship, the bones have yet to fully form, so you must be tender and let them grow to protect.

foodie, n.:  When mere sustenance will not sustain you, and raw materials are bestowed with the aspirations of art.

foolhardy, adj.:  I saw the warning in some people’s eyes. They saw their history repeating in me, and I couldn’t guarantee otherwise.

foolish, adj.:  I sing along when Belinda Carlile belts, “If I’m a fool for love, I don’t care, I don’t care!”

foolproof, adj.: To protect from foolishness, include it within the plan; know we will play each other’s dupes, but laugh about it later.

footfall, n.:  The pace of you in some other room, then the better sound of you getting closer.

footloose, adj.: You’re certainly free of fanciness, but who cares as you teach the dance floor how to dance, heels helium, hands to heaven.

footprint, n.:  We arrange ourselves around one another and then there, in the sand, it is momentarily visible.

for, prep.:  This one’s dedicated to the one I love.  The words don’t come for me, but for me to give to you.

forage, v.: Love shouldn’t turn you into a scavenger. If you feel you’re doing more searching than savoring, it’s time to give up the hunt.

foray, n.:  I love it when we are a Technicolor parade of two, dancing within our own exuberance, striding through the streets.

forbid, v.: When your temper tells you to do this, remember you’re neither my monarch nor parent, and even if you were, it still would fail.

force, n.:  Love is not an object, but a force.  It has its own energy, its own power, its own trajectory.

forcefield, n.:  As a child, I’d often walk around in one of these, and hope that telling someone it was there was enough to keep it intact.

ford, n.:  Instead of staring across the resentful river, you and I need to walk the banks, find the best spot for crossing.

foreboding, n.:  I would wake up and know you weren’t there.  I’d see you beside me, but was convinced that was the illusion.

forecast, n.:  You’re not unlike the radio weatherman.  It’s only when the drops start to fall that you can guarantee it will rain.

foreground, n.:   I can focus on the things behind you, but you are still a blurry, large presence that I inevitably encounter again.

foreseeable, adj.:  The river bends; the only certainty is that there will still be a river for us if we keep going.

foreshadow, v.:  I look for this shadow everywhere – on your phone when you check it; in the pages when I turn them; by our feet.

forfeit, v.: I no longer have to seek someone else; I must hope I will never find someone else and have to turn away.

forget, v.:  Love is a partial amnesiac, enabling us to justify our disagreeing versions and then erase them, too.

forgive, v.:  The just barely possible act of letting go of blame.

forlorn, adj.:  I am dreaming of your intonations even in the cusp of silence.

formative, adj.: Your room was too close to your parents’.

formidable, adj.: I will pull off the ledge and wrestle you to the ground and show you strength you have no idea I possess.

formulaic, adj.:  The people who think there is a pinpointable science to love are not the ones to believe.

fornicator, n.:  This is not a dirty word.

fortuitous, adj.:  That we should both be looking at the same time, and that we should end up looking in the same place.

fortunate, adj.:  I feel I would have half a life without you.

fortune, n.: Custom says to add “in bed,” but you prefer to add “with you” instead.

forward, adj.:  We have ups and downs, but it’s always forward.

fossil, n.:  When we excavate our past relationships, a few retain their shape, no longer bodies, remembered from the bones.

foul, adj.:  The bitter smell of deceit tends to seep into the furniture, and can take years to air out, if that.

found, adj.: The first step to belonging.

foundling, n.:  There’s a part of me that thinks of you as orphaned from your old, more difficult life and adopted into mine.

frabjous, adj.:  Stopping for ice-cream on a summer night, then walking and kisses that still taste as sweet.

fracas, n,:  Be careful.  The life of the party can also be the death of the relationship.

fractal, n.:  We lodge a tiny piece of ourselves in every place we love.

fracture, n.:  Sometimes we don’t even know it.  We sense something is off, but have no idea that it’s begun to break.

fragile, adj.: We’re vulnerable to hurt, but we’re also stronger than that hurt. Each time we feel so fragile, we also learn we are not.

fragment, v.: Memory wants us to subsist on the patchwork of pain and pleasure left when the space holding the letters together dissolves.

frame, n.: No matter how much we try to keep the pose, times eludes any portrait. We can display the snapshots, but we can’t live like them.

frantic, adj.:  When the unknown appears exponentially larger than the known, inducing a panic that feeds on itself.

fraternize, v.:  You can’t let it cross over from flirting to conspiring, not in front of me.

fraud, n.: I said I could dance, then feared the dance floor. I confessed by the time it came, but you still dragged me on, said I did fine.

fraught, adj.:  You have to understand, it’s a sign of how much I love you that so much is tied to alarm bells and warning signs

fray, n./v.:  Joining it makes me feel like I am doing it inside.

frazzle, v.:  When the jagged accumulation of questions I have for you keeps stabbing into the composure I try to maintain.

freak, n.:  Whoever made the mold was crafty in making it so tight, so you can always feel the pressure of the places where you don’t fit.

freckle, n.: It’s like each represents an aspect of your personality; I think I know them well, but they are never fully mapped or counted.

freedom, n.:  Control over your own time.

freelance, n.: At times I feel you’re employed by our love, but working in another place. There are few benefits in this arrangement.

freefall, n.:  The fear from the precipice, complicated by the knowledge of how momentarily exhilarating it would be.

freestanding, adj.:  If you don’t build too close to one another, the fire won’t spread.

freestyle, adj.:  Your words sound spontaneous, but there’s a plan beneath them, a deliberate flow.

freeze, v.:  Heat will make you run, but cold will trap you in place; when you emanate no warmth, something in me perishes.

freight, v.: Baggage is easy, by definition a carriable size. I feel more like a wan locomotive, adding car after car until I can’t move.

frenzy, n.:  Kisses that fuse like a match has been thrown into a warehouse of fireworks.

frequency, n.: The foolish but heartfelt belief that we live in a world on infinite wavelengths, and you find the only person sharing yours.

freshman, n.: In that picture of you, I see little wisdom put plenty of promise, a joy in the finding before you know what you’ve found.

fret, v.:  I worry about us and me and you.  But that worry comes from love, nothing but love.

fricative, n.: The notion that some words are bound for friction from the letters placed within them, but we can just talk them through.

friction, n.:  Human nature is not by nature smooth.

friend, n.:  Someone you can trust with anything.

friendship, n,:  The core element of any lasting relationship.

frighten, v.:  To make someone believe that safety is a lie and harm is inevitable.

frippery, n.:  Sometimes, without knowing it, you call too much attention to the fact that you’re trying to call attention to yourself.

frisson, n.: The whole room seems to teeter, and we know it’s teetering toward something we shouldn’t do, or something we really should.

frivolous, adj.: It’s not that you glide through life, but sometimes you fly the wrong altitude, too high to see what you need to see below.

froideur, n.:  The reason we can’t seem to relate to the people in French movies is because they have so much of this.

frolic, v.:  Dogs know this better than we do – the joy of letting it all leap.

from, prep.:  A recognition that nothing exists without a past.

front, n.:  I try to throw up a wall to prevent people from seeing what goes on inside, but with you, there are always windows.

frontier, n.:  The unknown territory isn’t always that which lies in the future.

frontispiece, n.:  Every story should start with a picture to set the tone.  Ours would be the first subway goodbye, that kiss.

frost, n.: I can feel it settle in my veins the moment I see I’ve asked one question too many, have pressed the issue one assumption too far

frothy, adj.:  The heady times of bubbly contentment, when all we can do it drink each other up. Are we smiling, or is it only gas?

frown, n.:  Not so much the opposite of a smile as the evening out of the line, inscrutable neutral.

frowsy, adj.:  Five o’clock shadow on my face, two a.m. shadow on my mind.

frozen, adj.:  I will allow enough cold to wake me up, but not enough to paralyze me.

frugal, adj.: It is always a mistake to withhold love because you are afraid it will run out.

fruitful, adj.:  A perfectly ripened Saturday when we walk along a river and talk with the excitement of two people who’ve just met.

frump, n.:  To dress like a couch.

frustration, n.:  When other people seem so much more free than you will ever be.

fubar, adj.: When I become the kind of person who breaks into his lover’s phone, just to make sure that no imaginary threats have called.

fuck, v.:  Whoever tried to made a dirty word out of pleasure did not reckon on how pleasurable this word would be to say.

fudge, v.: To lead your lover to believe the cake disappeared from the kitchen in the middle of the night from some evaporative property.

fuel, n./v.:  It is a complicated chemical, emotional, and at times nearly geological process, but I draw such power from you.

fugacity, n.:  It is not wrong to allow things to disappear, as long as you are careful to balance them with things that remain.

fugitive, n.:  You were running from your family long before you were running to me.

fugue, n.:  I lose myself.  No one else replaces me when I go missing.  I am simply gone, and then I am back.  You wait.

fulcrum, n.:  We cannot let other people’s opinion become the point on which your love is balanced; we must fashion it from our own desires.

fulfill, v.:  Contained in love is the promise of love, and by loving you, I am continually keeping that promise.

fulgent, adj.:  You shine like a catastrophe, and I can’t look away.

full, adj.:  It is essential to leave some space empty; you could – and should – never fill in all the blanks.

fulsome, adj.: I can be overwhelmed by how attracted I am to you, in part because I can’t let myself believe you look at me the same way.

fumble, v.:  I should have just said that I liked it.

fume, v.:  Discontent may be odorless but anger will make itself known.

fun, n.:  When the only consequence is enjoyment.

functional, adj.: I don’t mean this as a dys-; let’s call attention to the things that work, since they rarely call attention to themselves.

fundamental, adj.:  Everything I offer to define this is a variation of the word “respect.”

funereal, adj.:  Feelings of loss bring us together as the reality of loss makes its presence solid in the middle of our lives.

funk, n.:  When you’re in one, it’s best to listen to some.  The canker and the cure sometimes share the same name.

funny, adj.:  I heh while you HA! – but we repel the same absurdities with our laughter, rather than letting them sink in.

furious, adj.:  When you become nearly mythological with rage.

furnace, n.:  Love is the arrangement of coals; sex is the paper we throw upon it from time to time.

furniture, n.:  The cast of characters within our apartment, each piece gaining more and more story over time.

further, adv.:  All we can see is the horizon, but we aim for beyond that.

fuse, n./v.:  My thoughts merge in such a kinetic, jagged frenzy that sometimes it’s too much, and I break to save myself.

fussbudget, n.:  After our first mutual laundry run, you informed me I was folding the towels the wrong way.

futile, adj.:  Part of love is knowing I will never be able to change you to the extent that I might want to, and accepting that as okay.

future, n.: The present is what I say and write; the future is what you will hear and read.

fuzzy, adj.:  Memory loses its edges, but that’s what makes our lives comfortable enough to live.

Blog Tour: The Prophecy of Arcadia by M.H. Soars

The Prophecy of Arcadia (Arcadian Wars, #1)

Title: The Prophecy of Arcadia (Arcadian Wars #1)
Author: M.H. Soars
Date of Publication: January 17, 2014
Genre: YA sci-fi

Being a teenager is tough, especially when you have to pretend to be something you’re not, and you’re in love with someone you shouldn’t. 115 years ago, a small planet called Arcadia was invaded by a vicious alien race and nearly destroyed. Cut off from their resources, the Arcadians turned to Earth for help. A group of Arcadian explorers discovered a Prophecy that claimed their salvation lay in the hands of two children from Earth. To ensure their safety, the Arcadian Council sent their most gifted youngsters to Earth to act as protectors. Samantha is one of them.

To succeed in her mission she must learn to control her Arcadian powers and keep her true identity from her best friend, and the girl she swore to protect, Alexia. But Samantha will soon realize that nothing is as it seems. Someone is trying to prevent the Prophecy from taking place and the prophecy boy hasn’t been found yet. There is also a new drug circulating at school that is turning students into freakishly strong menaces.

To make matters worse, distractions keep getting in her way. Such as her love/hate relationship with her “cousin” Matthew. Or her confused feelings toward popular and mysterious Julian. She wants nothing more than to be free to live her life. But the survival of Arcadia depends on her and her friends. Free will is not an option.


May 5

Books, Authors, Blogs – Excerpt
Letter Trails – Excerpt
Brooke Blogs – Excerpt

May 6

Clever Girls Read – Review

Mythical Books – Guest Post
3 Partners in Shopping, Nana, Mommy, & Sissy, Too! – Excerpt
My Book Addiction – Excerpt

May 7

Chicklit vs Fantasy – Review + Excerpt

Little Miss Reader – Review
deal sharing aunt – Excerpt
TeamNerd Reviews – Excerpt
Tressa’s Wishful Endings – Excerpt

May 8

Fastidious Reader – Excerpt
Addicted Readers – Excerpt
Once Upon a YA Book – Excerpt
Indy Book Fairy – Excerpt

May 9

Reviewed the Book – Interview + Excerpt
Refracted Light –  Excerpt
Always Lost in Books – Excerpt


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#CountdowntoPlusOne: Glossary of Terms + Giveaway

Hi everyone!

I forgot to mention in here that my Facebook page has become PLUS ONE central since March 9! One of my favorite authors, Elizabeth Fama has a new book entitled PLUS ONE coming out this April 8 from Farrar, Straus, Giroux (BYR). I have loved it (so much!!!) and what better way to up the ante of its release by doing a countdown? So since March 9 until its release date (and even after that), I will be posting terms found in PLUS ONE and their definitions and more sekrit stuff. Yes, Oops! I Read A Book Again is now PLUS ONE central and you will be able to find a glossary of terms here! All thanks to Beth!

So if you check out my page, you can see my daily posts. But I’m putting them all here now too, to be updated daily as well. Moreover, you can win a copy of PLUS ONE! So go check out the glossary and join the giveaway!

Plus One

Title: Plus One
Author: Elizabeth Fama
Publisher: Farrar, Straus and Giroux (BYR)
Date of Publication: April 8, 2014

Divided by day and night and on the run from authorities, star-crossed young lovers unearth a sinister conspiracy in this compelling romantic thriller.

Seventeen-year-old Soleil Le Coeur is a Smudge—a night dweller prohibited by law from going out during the day. When she fakes an injury in order to get access to and kidnap her newborn niece—a day dweller, or Ray—she sets in motion a fast-paced adventure that will bring her into conflict with the powerful lawmakers who order her world, and draw her together with the boy she was destined to fall in love with, but who is also a Ray.

Set in a vivid alternate reality and peopled with complex, deeply human characters on both sides of the day-night divide, Plus One is a brilliantly imagined drama of individual liberty and civil rights, and a fast-paced romantic adventure story.


–In this alternate history, eighth graders are assigned part-time jobs after school in areas they excel and in fields they are eventually likely to work in. Students with no particular academic strengths or who are poor performers in school are assigned to manual labor or factory jobs.

Bio for Trees

–This is a high school basic biology class, which got its nickname because “you can be as dumb as a tree and still pass it.”

Ciel Le Coeur

–Sol’s brother, a programming expert who has been reassigned from Night to Day, and who hasn’t seen Sol for two years.

Circadian rhythm

–The natural biological clock that has been observed in many living organisms. In humans, there are phase markers over a roughly twenty-four-hour cycle, including melatonin secretion of the pineal gland, core body temperature changes, and level of cortisol in the blood.

CircaDiem/Vitamin D

–Supplements (in pill form) that “Smudges,” or night-dwelling people, take to maintain health in their sunlight-free lives. CircDiem is melatonin, to help induce drowsiness during the day, and vitamin D compensates for their lack of UV exposure.


–Rays live from sunrise to sunset, while Smudges live from sunset to sunrise. The moment of sunrise is defined astronomically: when the upper limb of the sun breaks the plane of the horizon in the east. All cell phones count down to both curfews by tenths of seconds and sound an alarm bell.

D’Arcy Benoit

–The Day medical apprentice who treats Sol’s injured finger at the hospital. His mother, Helene [acute accent on the first e, grave accent on the second e!], is his mentor. D’Arcy is talented at his work.

Day Pass/Night pass
–Important hospital staff have permanent passes that allow them to travel beyond curfew. However, they are still subject to random Hour Guard inspections.

Fifty-Ninth Street Pier
–A beautiful spot on the lakefront on the south side of Chicago, opposite the Museum of Science and Industry. In Plus One, the pier is the site of at least one important hostage negotiation.

–D’Arcy’s mother’s mom’s maiden surname. D’Arcy’s mother uses it in the hospital to grant anonymity to VIP patients. It becomes the nickname of the Night Minister’s baby.

–Sol Le Coeur’s newborn niece, whom she sets out to “kidnap” (if only for an hour or two) from the Day hospital.

–a French word that means “fiesty” or “spirited,” and is used by one character to describe Sol. Also used by French speakers to refer to unbroken horses.

–The leader of the local Noma tribe, a gang that somehow operates outside of the law, including breaking curfew. Sol observes that Fuzz is like a small mountain and has hands the size of hams.

–A member of a local Noma tribe, Gigi is as tough as nails. She swears, smokes, carries a switch blade, and has abdominal muscles like a weight lifter. But there’s something tender beyond that rough facade. Gigi is the subject of the short story “Noma Girl.”

Global position software/credit functionality
–Every Smudge and Ray has a cell phone with his or her identity, school records, work history, and health status stored inside. The phones also locate them for authorities using GPS, and allow them to make purchases without carrying cash.

Harper Memorial Library
–A beautiful “concrete Gothic” building on the campus of the University of Chicago, where some of the actiony-est action of Plus One takes place.

–D’Arcy’s mother and mentor, a Day medical doctor specializing in emergency medicine. She and her husband were born in France. D’Arcy was born in the U.S.

Hour Guard/Officer Dacruz
–Hour Guards enforce the mandatory curfew by checking the Day/Night designation on cell phones. They are allowed to stop anyone, at any time. Dacruz is the officer in charge of Sol’s violation.

Hypnagogic twitch
–Also called a hypnic jerk, this is the involuntary spasm you sometimes experience when first falling asleep. Often accompanied by a split-second illusion of falling, or stumbling.

“I Don’t Want to Set the World on Fire”/The Ink Spots
–Poppu’s favorite song, made famous in the 1940s by a crossover Smudge band called The Ink Spots. Poppu plays it on a ukulele, which makes for a lighter, jauntier cover than the languid Ink Spots arrangement. Sol and Ciel swing dance to it in happier times.

–D’Arcy’s dad: kind, free-spirited, French, scientific, suntanned, full of secrets.

–Ciel’s new wife, a Ray, and the mother of their baby, Fleur. Kizzie is kind and calm, and provides much-needed balance to Ciel’s intensity.

Maquoketa Caves State Park
–A beautiful but very tiny state park that I seem to have inflated beyond it’s stature, given that my Norwegian reader Mari wants to travel to Iowa rather than the Grand Canyon or Yellowstone when she visits the U.S.! Maquoketa is charming–full of caves and nature–and only three hours away from Chicago.

Melatonin supresssion
–A technique that real-world researchers at the University of Chicago use to study the biorhythms of Siberian hamsters. Not recommended for humans.

Milky Way
–The barred spiral galaxy that contains our Solar System. To us it looks like a band of stars, because we’re viewing its disk structure from within. If you haven’t seen the Milky Way, please allow me to add it to your bucket list.

–That would be the SS. Francisco Morazan, to you. This ship ran aground on a shoal off South Manitou Island, Michigan, in 1960. The wreckage is now a sort of eco-tourist site, since it has become a habitat for fish and nesting cormorants. Camping on South Manitou was something Sol, Ciel, and Poppu did in their younger days.

Mr. Thomas/Mr. Jones
–Undercover agents, or perhaps government-sanctioned thugs? Also known as Suits, because of their penchant for wearing crisp business attire, and their generally good grooming.

–A hairstyle that is associated with the 1980s, but was worn as far back as the sixth century, and is clipped short at the front and sides but long in the back. Noma women all sport a black mullet. Noma men wear a bleached-blond crewcut.

–A large group of starlings. Thousands of birds will often fly in amazing, giant, cloud-like formations that are breathtaking and give you a whole new reason to rejoice in life! There’s a moving video of one of these mass murmurations here.

Night Minister/Jacqueline Paulsen
–While the Federal government is run by Rays (Day people), the regional Night Ministers have limited local control. Jacqueline Paulsen is the ambitious, seemingly ruthless Night Minister in Sol’s district.

–A semi-nomadic group, classified as hoodlums by both Smudges (night-dwellers) and Rays (day-dwellers), and who somehow seem to straddle the Day/Night divide. Sol’s brother, Ciel, may have business ties to them. 

Non sequitur
–One of Sol’s most endearing quirks, in my opinion. Because of her brutal honesty, she sometimes blurts out seemingly off-topic–but always powerful, raw, and heartfelt–comments.

Old resistance/new resistance
–Sol’s parents were part of the old resistance against the Day/Night divide. Their group, like the radical Weathermen of the 1960s, used a campaign of bombings to try to start a revolution against the U.S. government. The new resistance, organized by Grady Hastings, is more of a peaceful resistance, in the style of Martin Luther King, Jr. or Mahatma Gandhi.

–A necklace given to Sol by her brother, Ciel, and made of two parts: the sun and the moon.

Plus One (patient transport)
–A perquisite for medical doctors that allows them to transport sick patients within and to the hospital, beyond the patient’s Day or Night curfew.

–The maternal grandfather of Sol and Ciel. Poppu is Belgian, and moved to the U.S. to take care of his grandchildren, accepting Smudge designation in order to do so.

–The Tagalog (Filipino) word for “heart.” Used by one of the characters in Plus One as a fictitious surname.

Remote programming
–The ability to re-program a cell phone when it’s not in your possession.

“Share Space Fairly By Sharing Time Fairly”
–a slogan created by the Committee on Public Information to promote acceptance and understanding of the Day/Night divide. 

–Slang terms for Night and Day people, used by both groups.

–Our main character! Sol is a Smudge, living with her dying grandfather. Her narration is sometimes raw and wounded, but she is always in command of her powerful feelings, despite the lack of command in her life.

Spanish Flu
–A pandemic that swept the globe in 1918-19, killing up to 100 million people. In Plus One, the population was divided into Day and Night during the second wave of the disease, to control the spread of illness and to provide relief to health care workers (with the addition of medical apprentices to boost staff). 

Starved Rock
–A state park about 100 miles west-northwest of Chicago, along the Illinois River. Sol and Ciel have been there many times with Poppu, who loves nature.

Steam tunnels
–A system of tunnels underground in some older U.S. cities, through which heat is channeled to buildings from a steam plant. 

Tarte au maton
–A delicately sweet dessert of Belgian origin that Poppu makes every year for Sol’s and Ciel’s birthdays.

The Odyssey/Telemachus
–An important book in Sol’s practically-homeschooled education, given to her by Poppu on her thirteenth birthday. Sol sees parallels between Telemachus and her brother, Ciel.

Uncensored text/future text
–Clever cell-phone hacking tricks that Ciel has developed (and more importantly, cloaked) from authorities. An uncensored text is one that is sent without the government reading it; a future text is sent ahead of time, to be delivered on a particular day and time in the future unless called off with a passcode.

–A Noma boy who is a hacking prodigy, like Ciel. In fact, Ciel is Zen’s idol. Because of his affection for Ciel, Zen also admires Sol.

–Zen’s mother. A kind woman who is a hairdresser by trade, giving mullets and crewcuts to fellow Noma.

–A very mild French swear, similar to “shoot!” or “heck!” and something D’Arcy says when frustrated. 



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Waiting on Wednesday (8): Before You by Amber Hart

Ola chicos and chicas! It’s been a long time since I’ve last done a WoW but today I’m doing it! No promise of this being a weekly thing but let’s just see how it goes. Here’s what I’ve been waiting for!

Before You

Title: Before You
Author: Amber Hart
Publisher: K-Teen
Date of Publication: July 29, 2014

Some say love is deadly. Some say love is beautiful. I say it is both.

Faith Watters spent her junior year traveling the world, studying in exquisite places, before returning to Oviedo High School. From the outside her life is picture-perfect. Captain of the dance team. Popular. Happy. Too bad it’s all a lie.

It will haunt me. It will claim me. It will shatter me. And I don’t care.

Eighteen-year-old Diego Alvarez hates his new life in the States, but staying in Cuba is not an option. Covered in tattoos and scars, Diego doesn’t stand a chance of fitting in. Nor does he want to. His only concern is staying hidden from his past—a past, which if it were to surface, would cost him everything. Including his life.

At Oviedo High School, it seems that Faith Watters and Diego Alvarez do not belong together. But fate is as tricky as it is lovely. Freedom with no restraint is what they long for. What they get is something different entirely.

Love—it will ruin you and save you, both.

I’ve read excerpts from Amber’s blog and I want MOOOOOOOAAAARRRR. Can’t wait!! Plus, I’m always in the mood for Katie McGarry-like novels. Hee.