And Now Our Watch Has Ended

We climbed dizzyingly high towers

Along with Bran the Broken

And with the fall that ensued

We learnt to let go

And soared up to fly

Rickon, early in his years as he may have been

Still taught us that the straightest of paths

Might not always be the best

Arya, showed us that knitting

Is not all that needles could do

And while sticking ’em with the pointy end

We ward off the God of Death

And say

Not Today

Sansa had to lose it all

To find herself

And realise

That family is what matters

The rest is all mirrors and lies

For Robb we shed a tear

As it’s been difficult to bear

That the path of the righteous

Is not always right

And honourable men like his father

Pay for others’ sins

Jon, and his best kept secret

Showed us what we think

Of ourselves and our humble origins

Are small matters when compared

To what we’re destined to be

We love some, we lose some

And we even kill the ones we love

For there’s a greater good which stands to reason

Up high above

And dear Dany

As a parallel

Shows us the very opposite

Walking the path forged for her by birth

She lost sight of what was proper and fit

A folklore

A fantasy

Mythical creatures

And legends all

Came to life

And died

In front of our very eyes

Each precious, each ugly

Yet loved all the same

A song of ice and fire

Shows us how different we can all be

But in playing the game of thrones

We find our heart’s true desire

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A Question of Choice?

Mommy,

I don’t understand

That man hurt me

Mum, why is my belly growing?

Mummy, there’s something inside of me!

But moooom, I can’t be a mother

I’m your baby

I’m still a child

What do you mean, Mumma, that they don’t care?

Why do you say it’s not my life?

How was it never my choice?

He chose to do this Mama

But I didn’t ask for this?

Oh, I did?

Alright, I guess I won’t go out of the house wearing a skirt again.

.

.

Hi baby, shush, this world isn’t meant for you but I’ll do my best to keep you safe. My mother couldn’t, and it broke her. Her own shadow haunts her. But you, my love, shall be safe. I’ll dress you like a boy.

#Book #CoverReveal : Orphan Dreamer and the Missing Arrowhead!

Today we have the cover reveal for J. Nell Brown’s Orphan Dreamer and the Missing Arrowhead! Check it out and pre-order your copy today!

Title: Orphan Dreamer and the Missing Arrowhead

Author: J. Nell Brown

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Release Date: May 23rd

About Orphan Dreamer and the Missing Arrowhead:

One boy.

One girl.

One mission: to protect their home—Earth—from its previous occupants. Where will you live if these two kids fail? Daniela and Cillian were born on the same day, but an ocean separated them until destiny introduced an orphan boy to a depressive schizophrenic girl inside her chaotic dreams.

Is the orphan boy real? If he’s not real, does it matter to Earth’s survival?

Begin the Orphan Dreamer Saga, a transcontinental and fantastical sweeping love story spiced with thrills and comedy where ANNE OF GREEN GABLES meets THE DA VINCI CODE in the WAR ROOM. A twist of fate alters Daniela’s dreams, the destiny of an orphan boy, and the future of humanity in an epic journey that defies time, taking the reader from 1018 B.C. into a future of “what if’s.”

What if Indiana Jones were a naïve girl born into a close-knit family in the South—a girl destined to solve her own Da Vinci Code, but who would rather simply overcome the provincialism of her community and find her own Anne-of-Green-Gables-style bosom friend?

Meet the Orphan Dreamer, Daniela Rose Cavanaugh—a thirteen-year-old ordinary girl destined for the extraordinary—in the prequel to the Orphan Dreamer Saga, ORPHAN DREAMER AND THE MISSING ARROWHEAD.

 

 

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Exclusive Excerpt:

I killed him.

After my thirteenth birthday, I murdered my best friend—my only friend—Ethan.

We should have stayed in Gibeah, but I insisted we return to Milweekee Middle School, a prison whose inmates dressed in Keds tennis shoes and OshKosh jeans. Armed with acne, attitude, and squeaky prepubescent voices, my classmates lived to torture Ethan—the one-legged cripple— and me, his nosebleeding friend with the bushy hair.

“By helping him die, you saved Ethan,” my parents told me. Don’t worry. Mr. and Mrs. Cavanaugh of 7112 S.E. 221st Avenue are not sociopaths; they are as normal as parents are allowed to be. Their sympathetic words soothed me, stopping their only child—me—from killing herself too.

 

 

About the Author:

J. Nell Brown is an involuntary insomniac who practices medicine and writes in her free time. She writes fiction that paints a human likeness upon the faceless and gifts a voice to the voiceless. Brown is a self-proclaimed nerd and loves all things scientific. Her love of science is reflected in her research at Los Alamos National Laboratory, the site for the development of the atomic bomb. She loves world travel, healthy food, hiking and dogs, especially Faith, her Maltese.

 

Connect with the Author:

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Enter J. Nell’s Giveway:

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Dear Mom

Hey, Mom?

Guess what!

You were right.

Whatever it was,

You were always right.

And always will be.

You’ll always know,

Whatever there is to know,

And more.

With that wise twinkle in your eye

And that understanding nod of your head

And your hug

You warm embrace

Will set everything to right.

Your voice,

Mom,

Calms all storms.

Your hands,

Mom,

Bear every weight that would otherwise have befallen my shoulders.

Your feet,

Mom,

Never tire of walking that extra mile

To ensure that I always smile.

Your heart,

Mumma,

Is so large and full of love

That even the God’s envy it.

But you know what, Mumma

Let them.

For you have compassion for everyone.

And no matter what

Always

Your baby I will be.

The Best Told Tales

The best stories are the ones told without an audience. No strained ears hanging to every uttered word. No tear filled eyes ready to brim over. No sighs, no smiles, no oohs and no aahs. Just a resounding silence. Those are the tales which are truer than true. For you don’t perform them for accolades, appreciation or thunderous applause. You string words together, purely reflecting your inner mind, for no one’s reaction guides the unraveling of these yarns. You don’t pause to consider what others would think. You don’t choose your words for the reactions they incite.

And that’s when a story comes to life. Like a living, breathing entity, taking a form of its own. And you can sit back and mull over the elusive magic of wondrous creation.

A little late but here it goes – Sour #CoverReveal and #Preorder Details

Today we have the cover reveal of SOUR by Jennifer Woodhull! Check it out and grab your copy now!

Title: SOUR

Author: Jennifer Woodhull

Genre: Romantic Comedy

Release Date: June 4th

About SOUR:

Tall, handsome, and eternally optimistic Noah has dated a string of gorgeous women. His best friend Elle has outlasted them all. Of course, he has no idea she’s been in love with him for years. Why would he? It’s not like she’s going to tell him. After all, she’s short and awkward, and as he’s fond of reminding her, has a sour disposition.

 

When Elle takes off on her annual ten-day vacation with her family, Noah comes to a startling realization. She’s the woman who is by his side day in and day out, whose office is across the hall, and whose house is around the corner. She has called him on his shit when he gets too cocky, and he has held her in her arms when her heart was broken. Absence must make the heart grow fonder because while she’s in Germany with her parents, he realizes that everything he has ever wanted was right there all along. Now he’s on a mission to make her realize that romance won’t ruin their friendship, but platonic friendship is ruining their relationship.

 

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Exclusive Excerpt:

I walk down the hall, and turn the corner into my room to find, to my shock and dismay, a wall of dripping wet muscle standing at the foot of my bed, toweling himself off.

I gasp, clutching my palm to the bare spot on my chest between the cups of my bra—thankfully, a t-shirt model that offers at least a little coverage. Hearing me, he turns, holding the towel just so that the most critical information is unavailable.

“Hey, you’re home!”

Noah takes three long strides toward me and leans forward to hug me. I put my palm out and it lands firmly in the middle of his perfect, muscular chest.

“You’re naked! You can’t hug me naked! It’s weird!” I exclaim.

“You’re naked too!” He argues, wrapping the towel around his waist and folding it into a not-very-secure-looking knot at the side.

I silently will the knot to fail and expose the only bit of Noah Adler that I’ve never seen, but sadly I still have not developed telekinetic powers, so nothing happens.

“There, better?” He asks, palms up.

He doesn’t give me a chance to answer and instead wraps thick, muscular forearms and defined biceps around me as he pulls me into his sculpted torso.

“I missed you!” He says, laying his cheek against the top of my head.

I wrap my arms around his midsection and look up as I give him a squeeze, carefully jutting my ass out so my belly doesn’t make contact with what I imagine is a sizable and delicious member beneath the towel he’s barely wearing.

“I missed you too. You should’ve come with us,” I say, closing my eyes as I do a happy dance on the inside because he came to see me after all.

“I’m not a Bailey. No Bailey family adventures for me,” he laughs. “But I am going to need you to tell me every detail, Ariel.”

I squirm away from him. “Well, that didn’t take long. I’m over missing you now.”

 

About the Author:

We all need moments of escape. With all the demands on us day in and day out, we each need something just for ourselves. Perhaps nothing provides a private moment – a brief respite from every day – like escaping into a great story. When you pick up one of my books I hope you find that place that you can escape to. Explore the streets of Paris with new heroines or fly around the world to reclaim your lost love with a favorite hero. Whether it’s the romance that takes your breath away or those climactic encounters that make your pulse race, I hope you find that solitary moment of enjoyment while lost in one of my stories.

Connect with Jennifer:

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Enter Jennifer’s Giveaway:

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Spiritual

The walls start to close in on me

Every time I find myself sitting idle

In an empty room

My head feels light

My chest too heavy

My tongue waters too much

But my throat is always parched

The lights seem to dim

And I hear a deep sigh

Emanate from somewhere within me

Yet very alien

And I start losing all sense of self

I transcend my corporeal presence

Till my conscience is all I am

And then I fly

Through those very walls

And am one with the world

I travel far and wide

Unlocking mysteries with my mind

Passing more than a few portals

And time ceases to be all encompassing

Till I wake up the next morning

With my head still feeling light

But all my burdens have been lifted

And the world is set right

Peeping Tom

I watch a game of hide-and-go-seek

Played out every night

Between the night-blooming jasmine

Outside my bedroom window

And the celestial traveller of the dark

Sometime hiding

Behind a puff of cloud

Like a cotton ball gone rogue

And sometimes

Sometimes

It wraps itself inside a blanket of inky blue

Peeking out only a tad

The rest out of view

And I swear

I can almost hear

The flower giggle at these antics

Blooming slightly more

While Mr. Moon

From up high above

Winks

And takes a bow.