A far kingdom hidden beyond the boundaries of imagination. A place where fantasy never sleeps, and dreams are much more than just a mind game. In that land inhabited by magic creatures and strewn with lost secrets, a little girl will begin a journey full of adventures and learnings. Always on a quest for knowing more, she will discover friendship, courage and the wonders behind an act of kindness. And that not everything is what it seems to be… In a far kingdom that only true dreamers can reach, a little lady will rise.
Cecília began writing stories and tales when her children were born. As the number of her children grew, the number of tales increased as well. The children discovered that it was great fun to invent new stories and tales, thus her older kids write and illustrate tales. Cecília’s smaller children only test stories. Since their name is Watercastle in English, they publish their tales under the name Watercastle Tale Works. The parents live with their five kids in Hungary.
In the second part of the Kitchen Tales we can read about how the Bashful Frying Pan started to sing for the first time. Why did he break into a song all of a sudden? What did the Haughty Teapot say, and what about the garlic press and the cake-server? Were they also surprised? Read the tale!
Truth can be ugly and part-time waitress, casual PI investigator, and half-fae shifter, Raven Crawford, can’t deny she owes the Lord of War a favour. If she defaults on her debt, she relinquishes all her power to a man who doesn’t know the meaning of mercy. And she thought her bank loans were bad.
With her new role in the Underworld contending with her debt to a dictator, a budding romance with the Lord of Shadows, and her need to pay the bills, Raven is in serious need of balance. But the moment the dark fae walked into her diner months ago, she’s been off-balance.It’s time for Raven to pull up her big girl socks and prove to everyone she’s no longer the burnt-out waitress with a nifty parlour trick.
(review request submitted by the author for an honest critique)
What I loved about Queen of Corvids, using the alphabet as my guide.
It’ll be hard, but I’ll try my best not to reveal spoilers. Heads up, some lines will make sense after reading the story, so I encourage you all to buy/read Queen of Corvids!
Proceed with caution!
Assasins
Bane, a character you’ll love to hate.
Chad Berkley, aka Tarzan. I hope we see more of this Roller!
Dungeon has visitors.
Erebus. I rather liked his interaction with Nyx. He amused me.
Frey. He wasn’t very good at being bad.
GOLD!
Hyenas messed with the wrong family.
Investigations.
Juni. Watch out for her right hook!
Killing is not always the answer.
Lord of the Shadows. Cole has more love in his 💖 than most mortal men.
Marcus. He pulled at my heartstrings.
Nyx. Her screen time wasn’t long, but she made a lasting impression nonetheless.
Odin’s shriveled nuggets!
Pepe the goat, familiar to a well-known magical character.
Queen’s power is finally in full display.
Rourke, a sarcastic badass with a huge heart.
Scythe. Kick ass weapon!
Troll battle.
Unofficial Crawford. Read and found out who’s joined the family.
Victims. Multiple deaths!
“Where’s the rest of it?” (Quote pertains to her court attire.)
Xcellent read. Yeah, I misspelled it on purpose. 🙂
J.C. McKenzie is a book-loving, gumboot-wearing, unapologetic science geek. She’s the author of the Carus Series, an urban fantasy five-book saga published by the Wild Rose Press. Born and raised on the West Coast, J. C. sets the majority of her books in the Lower Mainland of British Columbia, Canada. She writes urban fantasy and paranormal romance with sassy heroines and brutish, alpha-type men.
They can save the human race. To do it, they must take down their own government…
Sixteen-year-old Jema is on the run. Branded a traitor for trying to share a DNA-based cure for a lethal contagion, she and her friends are hunted by forces loyal to her sinister uncle. And unless they force him to release the formula, she fears a worldwide war to claim the antigen.
Forced to fight like soldiers in the desolate desert, Jema learns there could be sympathizers who will support a coup. But with only scavenged food and fading hope, she and her small group of grimly determined teens face a deadly trek across dangerous territory.
Can Jema get the cure in the public domain before the planet descends into bloodshed and chaos?
Torch is the second book in the thrilling Lovelock YA dystopian science fiction series. If you like intense action, courage under pressure, and races against time, then you’ll love Tricia Copeland’s fast-paced novel.
Buy Torch to battle for humanity’s survival today!
*´¨*) ¸.•*´¸.•*´¨) ¸.•*¨) (¸.•´ (¸.•`Don’t miss Torch! Now Available $0.99 or Free on KU!
“Okay, I’m officially confused.” Troy cut the radio. “It’s been three weeks. They should at least have something about vaccination centers.”
“Death counts seem to be holding steady which means they’re distributing the anti-viral to those that are sick, right?”
“Who knows what they’re doing. If all that crap we went through was for nothing, I’m going to be majorly pissed.” Troy stomped towards me.
“Hey, pregnant mama here. Calm down.” I held the hare out to him.
“Fine, but I’m definitely going to need an extra-long run tonight.”
“Does the answer to all your anxiety have to be to run?” I lowered the mother rabbit into its pen.
“Maybe there’ll be some eggs. If I have to eat rabbit another day, I think I might kill myself.”
“You could always eat one of the MREs. With the crops and animals, we’re going to have enough food for fifty people soon.” Cleaning my hands, I followed him to the bird coops.
Troy opened the pen, and the road runners scattered. “The meal kits are for emergency use only. We have to be self-sufficient.”
“Is that why I’m hurting my brain to learn electronics, fluids, and mechanics?”
Reaching in a nest, he produced two eggs. “Hey, I stroked a rabbit’s belly to feel for a pea-sized mass that’s supposed to be a baby rabbit. You can learn to hack a computer. Besides if something happens to one of us—”
“Stop, now you sound like my dad. I can fend for myself.”
He kissed my cheek. “We take care of each other, right?”
Leaving the eggs in the kitchen, we weaved through a tunnel to our hidden exit. I loved the feel of the cool air on my skin and the calming effect the darkness had on me. My shoulders relaxed, and I took a deep breath. Traipsing to the road, we stretched and started to run. At the half-hour mark, we looped around.
Cresting a hill, Troy grabbed my arm and pulled me to the ground. Hear that? he signed to me.
Holding my breath, I listened but shook my head. With his super senses, it didn’t mean anything that I couldn’t detect the sound. If he had, we needed to be wary. Staying low, we cut away from the road, stopping every fifty feet to listen.
Vehicle engine, he signed.
We slowed our pace. The highway passed eighteen miles northwest of us, and I wondered if he could hear a motor from that distance. Maybe many vehicles? But what would a convoy be doing this far from the border? My heart raced. Looking for us was the answer.
At our next stop, I heard it, a low roar of an engine in the distance, the crackle of tires on asphalt, rocks pelting the hard desert floor in their wake.
How many? How far away are they? Can you see lights?
Troy nodded. They’re slowing down.
*´¨*) ¸.•*´¸.•*´¨) ¸.•*¨) (¸.•´ (¸.•`Don’t miss Torch! Now Available $0.99 or Free on KU!
An avid runner and Georgia native, Tricia now lives with her family and four-legged friends in Colorado. She believes that magic infuses every aspect of our lives, whether it is the magic of falling in love, discovering a new passion, a beautiful sunset, or a book that transports us to another world. You can find all her titles from contemporary romance and fantasy, to dystopian fiction at www.triciacopeland.com.
A naturally immune girl. A genetically modified boy. A search for a cure that may cost them everything…
Fifteen-year-old Jema Walker would do anything to protect her sibling. But she never imagined they’d be facing another global flu pandemic. Sent to a remote desert location for safety, Jema is horrified when her sister contracts the deadly virus.
Caught in a conflict of impossible choices, Jema teams up with a specially bred eighteen-year-old boy to find a remedy. But when they’re forced to go rogue and abandon their community, she fears the ruling adults only want them for their uniquely protected DNA.
Can the duo hunt down an antidote before they fall victim to ruthless experiments?
Lovelock Ones is the first book in the action-packed Lovelock YA dystopian science fiction series. If you like bold heroines, strong heroes, and post-apocalyptic settings, then you’ll love Tricia Copeland’s thrilling fight for survival.
Buy Lovelock Ones to battle an unforgiving authority today!
“I’m never going to get this.” I let the bow fall to my side.
“Mark.” Jema used my Lovelock name. “I’ve been doing this for ten years. You’re not going to be perfect in a couple of months. It’s muscle memory, just like with football. You’ll get it.”
We’d been practicing for almost three months, both shooting and adapting to our community names. I called her Cleo about sixty percent of the time and hit the center target only one in ten.
“But for you it’s like breathing, Cleo.” I forced out her new name, trying to make the switch in my psyche. She would always be Jema to me.
“Have you never had to work at anything?”
“Yeah, this.” I held up the bow and arrow.
She kicked at the sand under her feet. “Maybe I’m not a good teacher. I just remember how my dad taught me. Think about it like throwing a football. You aim and then release, right?” Cocking her arm back, she faked a throw.
I dropped the bow. “If you put your arms around me like this.” I took her hands and wound them around my waist, so our lips were inches apart. Even in the dim light, I could see her cheeks flush. I loved feeling the warmth from her face. One day I would get up the courage to kiss her again.
Backing away, I lifted the bow and drew the string and arrow to my ear. “Twenty more and then we’ll run.”
“Might help if you use your night goggles like the rest of us.” Her voice trailed off as she walked away.
Swish. I let the arrow fly and fitted another on the string until my quiver emptied. I jogged to collect the arrows and turned to scan the area for Jema. I grabbed a bag and headed to her. “Commander Butler will be happy.” I held the open sac out to her.
“It’s a big one. It will have to hold him till we’re back.”
“You’d think he’d get tired of these.” I synched the bag closed.
“He loves rabbit.”
We walked to the blacktop, and I set the bow on top of her catch. Bumping her shoulder, I faced into the wind. “You ready for this?”
“You beating me again? Never.”
“No, tomorrow.” I pumped my knees up and down in place a few times.
“Yep.” She started a slow jog beside me.
“Not nervous?”
“Always nervous. I hate that it has to be a different place every time.”
“Yeah, and this is the farthest west we’ve been since our marrow run.” I shook my head, clearing the image of the dead soldiers from my brain.
“I do not like that the rendezvous is half an hour from the border.”
“Butler says they’re tightening security.”
Beside me, Jema’s shoulders trembled. “I feel like General Zhou is waiting for us at Port Orford.”
“Yeah, I can see him sitting at your kitchen table, wondering where you went.” I elbowed her, and she jumped to stay in stride.
“Fine. Whatever. Make fun of my nightmares.”
“At least you don’t dream about punching the commander every night.”
Hitting the one-mile mark, my body slid into the familiar rhythm. I watched Jema out of the corner of my eye. She’d become comfortable with our pace after three months of training. Thinking back to our first days in exile, I chuckled at how I pushed her to run. After our rogue mission, we switched to a night work schedule with the rest of the security and supply teams. Waking at 1600 every evening, we ate supper with the community and started our workday. The acquisitions training included physical conditioning, weapons drills, tactical maneuver and psychological warfare study.
Even though the other supply teams switched out, Cmdr. Butler sent Jema and me on each of the last two monthly restocking runs. The next supply run was scheduled for the next day, and we were, again, on the roster. I think Butler tried to keep us busy, so we didn’t plan any tangent missions. Besides being hungry all the time and the lack of friends, cave life wasn’t too horrible, considering marshal law had been issued in the states. At least they’d upped our food portions after we each lost four pounds the first month. Still, it’d taken another month to get my body to stop signaling the need for food.
At the three-mile point, I swirled my finger in the air, and we looped around to head back to the cavern. In addition to the team training, Jema and I ran just before dawn each morning. Then, we showered, and went to sleep just as the rest of the community members started their workday. Mom didn’t like seeing me for only an hour a day, but I appreciated the space from her. Jema and I roomed with the security team, and we had bunks beside each other. This arrangement counted as another plus in my head. Rooming with your mom at eighteen just wasn’t cool.
Nearing the cave we slowed our pace and walked to cool down. Taking in the last few breaths of open air, I snagged the bag with the rabbit and caught Jema’s hand. She smiled and squeezed my fingers, and I wondered if she wanted to kiss me too. But it might’ve made things weird if I pushed beyond our friendship, so I stayed my course.
Inside we dropped the night’s catch in the kitchen, showered, and joined the rest of the community for breakfast. Then, Cmdr. Butler briefed us in the command room, and we made our way to our darkened dorm.
“You ready, Mark?” One of our supply run leads, Garrison, caught up with me in the washroom.
I stood up straight. “Yes, sir.”
“Better not let that brunette mess with your head. I need you sharp tomorrow.” Chuck, the other team leader, pointed at me.
“Cleo? We’re not together. You know that.”
Chuck shook his head. “Commander wants you guys focused.”
I turned to face him. “We are. We’re just friends. We make a good team.”
“It’s more than just your life out there.” Chuck pushed his finger into my shoulder.
I straightened my spine and leaned towards him. “I know, dude.”
“Hey.” Garrison slapped my arm and turned to face Chuck. “Mark and Cleo are solid. They know what they’re doing.”
“Okay, if you say so.” Chuck swung his towel over his shoulder and walked away.
I held my hand out to Garrison. “Thanks, man.”
He clenched my palm. “I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t been on the past two runs with you.”
I hated people doubting my skills. “Well, keep spreading the word. Mark and Cleo are the real deal.”
A far kingdom hidden beyond the boundaries of imagination. A place where fantasy never sleeps, and dreams are much more than just a mind game. In that land inhabited by magic creatures and strewn with lost secrets, a little girl will begin a journey full of adventures and learnings. Always on a quest for knowing more, she will discover friendship, courage and the wonders behind an act of kindness. And that not everything is what it seems to be… In a far kingdom that only true dreamers can reach, a little lady will rise.
(review request submitted by the author for an honest critique)
Since The Tales of Little Lady M is a children’s book, and I have a child, I decided to do things a little differently. I’ve asked my 11-year-old daughter to weigh in on her thoughts of the story.
But first, here’s the critique of a 40+ woman.
The artwork and poetry, in The Tales of Little Lady M, can be best described as whimsical. It reminded me of Mother Goose nursery rhymes I read to my youngsters.
In this story, everyone spoke in rhyme. Some poems like in “The Witch’s Home,” reminded me of Dr. Seuss’s Green Eggs and Ham. You can tell Diego was inspired by Seuss and Mother Goose. Another possible inspiration was in regards to Little Lady M. She was an adventurous, kind girl who carried a purple backpack, which was magical. She also lived in a land where animals spoke to her. Hmm, does she sound like Dora the Explorer to you?!
Whether or not any or all of the above mentions were inspirations for Diego’s creation, I will say it was a cute story that taught children many lessons. Examples: It’s important to be kind to others. Don’t talk to strangers. Don’t enter a stranger’s home. Helping a friend in trouble can bring much happiness to yourself. My score: 4
And now for my 11-year-olds thoughts.
The story, The Tales of Little Lady M is a great book, but there is just one problem. Some of the words in the book are hard to read and pronounce. For example, on page 71, when the good witch said the beginning of the spell, it just doesn’t make sense. I don’t usually like fairy tales, but some of them I love. The book The Tales of Little Lady M is definitely one of the fairy tales I love. The rating I give it is 4 1/2 stars.
KB: After much discussion, my daughter and I agreed it scored closer to 4 than 5. Therefore, when I share this review on Amazon and Goodreads, I will mark it as a 4. Here though, it will stand at 4.5!
Heart Rating System: 1 (lowest) and 5 (highest) Score:❤❤❤❤1/2
Hi, my name is Diego Di Mauro, and I was born in Catania, Italy.
As a child, I enjoyed playing outdoor games, watching cartoons, drawing and reading comics. I soon became a huge lover of video games – and pizza – too.
At the age of 11, I entered and won a local writing contest, with an essay celebrating the bravery of the Italian armed force “Carabinieri”.
I also co-wrote the story, dialogues and lyrics for a school play.
Computer programming quickly became my main interest, and eventually my future profession. Nonetheless, I never lost my taste for writing: over the years, I’ve written a few poems and a couple of drafts for fiction stories. The last one inspired by my first trip to Poland, back in 2013.
I’ve also painted a few portraits for relatives and friends.
I lived in Italy, US and Czech Republic, before moving to England. I visited Canada, Mexico, Germany, Poland, Portugal and Luxembourg. At the age of 16, I spent a few weeks in Australia.
“The Tales of Little Lady M” is my first published author and illustrator work.
Age Level: 4 – 10
