Book Review: Song of The Nile by Stephanie Dray + Giveaway

Song of the Nile by Stephanie Dray

Publisher: Berkley Trade

Publish Date: October 4, 2011

Paperback, 464 pages 
Fiction, Historical, Young Adult
 ISBN: 978-1402244186

My Review:
My thoughts: After reading an earlier book about Cleopatra Selene, I have been fascinated by her life so when I was asked to review Song of the Nile by Stephanie Dray, I was thrilled.

Song of the Nile is actually the second book in the Cleopatra's Daughter series by Stephanie Dray.  The first book is Lily of the Nile, which I also have, but have not had a chance to read yet.  I do want to read it, but I think Song of the Nile stands on it's own just fine.  Song of the Nile picks up Cleopatra Selene's story on her wedding day when she's 14 years old.  Yes 14.  At times I had to remind myself that she is that young and at times she very much acts her age and then I had to remind myself again that she is young, not in her 20s as we often think of married women.  Of course all is not simple for Selene, nor does she make it simple.  There is political intrigue throughout the book.  She is always thinking, always plotting and always trying to get ahead.  But not in a ruthless, hurt others at all cost way.  Selene is actually very caring and she comes to care for those in her new country more than she ever thought she would.

I really enjoyed watching the development of Selene through this book.   It's written through her eyes, but you can see the development through the ways others interact with her as well.  I liked how she began to assert herself but she watched others enough to know how to do things right.  She still made mistakes from time-to-time, but she spent a lot of time just watching when she was younger to see how to rule others and you can tell she really learned from it.  Selene has many layers.  There is the political layer, the Queen. The religious layer, or the one that worships and is a conduit to Isis.  I found the sorceress in her to be a fascinating storyline to watch develop.  There is also the Mother, which she tries hard to do right because she feels like she never had a childhood.  I love that she's multifaceted and feel that Ms. Dray did a wonderful job with characterization of Selene along with the other characters in the book.

After the characterization comes the plot.  The plot was a major driving force and kept me enraptured through the entire book.  I kept wondering what intrigue would happen next.  What would the emperor want?  Would Selene see Helios?  Would she and Juba become close?  What would happen in their kingdom of Mauretania?  There was so much going on in the book but not too much that made it confusing, it was just enough to keep the plot moving at a great pace. 

With great characterization and a fast-moving plot, Song of the Nile is a great read.  Between the political intrigues of Rome to the personal intrigues between the characters, there is enough to keep you guessing in Song of the Nile and have you eagerly anticipating the next installment, as I am.


My Rating: 4.75/5.0


About the Book:

Sorceress. Seductress. Schemer. Cleopatra’s daughter has become the emperor’s most unlikely apprentice and the one woman who can destroy his empire…

Having survived her perilous childhood as a royal captive of Rome, Selene pledged her loyalty to Augustus and swore she would become his very own Cleopatra. Now the young queen faces an uncertain destiny in a foreign land.

Forced to marry a man of the emperor’s choosing, Selene will not allow her new husband to rule in her name. She quickly establishes herself as a capable leader in her own right and as a religious icon. Beginning the hard work of building a new nation, she wins the love of her new subjects and makes herself vital to Rome by bringing forth bountiful harvests.

But it’s the magic of Isis flowing through her veins that makes her indispensable to the emperor. Against a backdrop of imperial politics and religious persecution, Cleopatra’s daughter beguiles her way to the very precipice of power. She has never forgotten her birthright, but will the price of her mother’s throne be more than she’s willing to pay?


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Constellation Books
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About the Author: 
Stephanie Dray uses the stories of women in history to inspire the young women of today and remains fascinated by all things ancient. She has collected a houseful of cats and Egyptian artifacts, and lives in Owings Mills, Maryland.

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Giveaway:

Stephanie Dray is offering one lucky reader a copy of Song of the Nile.  Giveaway is open to US/Canada only and the giveaway copy will be coming from Ms. Dray.  The giveaway will end 9/25 and I will draw the winner 9/26.  Fill out the form below.  You must enter your email address (for contact purposes only) and Ms. Dray has requested that join her newsletter, Twitter, or Facebook page.  Thanks and good luck!

Excerpt from Song of the Nile by Stephanie Dray

Excerpt from Song of the Nile

by

Stephanie Dray

Selene
Rome
Autumn 25 b.c.

My wedding day dawned rosy as the blush on a maiden’s cheek. Like the sun peeking between pink clouds to warm the sprawling city of terra-cotta roofs below, I must also shine for Rome today. As morning broke, I surveyed the middling monuments that blanketed Rome’s seven hills. I gazed to the Tiber River beyond, diamonds of dawn sparkling on its surface, and tried to see this day with my mother’s eyes.

She was Cleopatra, Pharaoh of Egypt, a woman of limitless aspiration. And I was her only daughter. She’d wanted a royal marriage for me. She may have even hoped my wedding would be celebrated here in Rome. But could she have conceived that this wedding would come to me through her bitterest enemy? In her wildest dreams, could she have imagined that the man who drove her to suicide—the same man who captured her children and dragged us behind his Triumphator’s chariot—would now make me a queen?

Yes, I thought. She could have imagined it. Perhaps she had even planned it.

Worn around my neck, a jade frog amulet dangled from a golden chain. It was a gift from my mother, inscribed with the words I am the Resurrection. On my finger, I wore her notorious amethyst ring, with which she was said to have ensorcelled my father, Mark Antony. It was now my betrothal ring, and I hoped it would steady me, for I was a tempest inside.

At just fourteen years old, I had neither my mother’s audacity nor the brazen courage that allowed her to so famously smuggle herself past enemy soldiers to be rolled out at the feet of Julius Caesar. I had heka—magic—but had inherited none of my mother’s deeper knowledge of how to use it. I didn’t have her wardrobe, her gilded barges, nor the wealth of mighty Egypt. Not yet. But the Romans often said I had her charm and wits  and the day she died, she gave me the spirit of her Egyptian soul.

Today I would need it.

It was early yet in the emperor’s household; only the servants were awake, bustling about the columned courtyard, trimming shrubbery and hanging oil lamps in preparation for the wedding festivities. They were too busy—or too wary of my reputation as a sorceress—to acknowledge my presence beneath an overripe fig tree, where my slave girl and I made my devotions to Isis. My Egyptian goddess was forbidden within the sacred walls of Rome, but no one stopped us from lighting candles and using a feather to trace the holy symbol, the ankh, into the soft earth. The Temples of Isis might be shuttered here in Rome, her altars destroyed and her voice silent, but my goddess dwelt in me and I vowed that she would speak again.

Once we’d offered our prayers, my slave girl and I strolled the gardens with a basket because it was the Roman custom for a bride to pick the flowers for her own wedding wreath. The summer had been ablaze, so hot that flowers lingered out of season. I had my choice in a veritable meadow. Stooping down, I plucked two budding roses to remind me of my dead brothers, Caesarion and Antyllus, both killed in the flower of their youth. I chose a flamboyant red poppy for my dead father, the Roman triumvir, who’d been known as much for his excesses as his military talent. Finally, for my mother, a purple iris because purple was the most royal color, and my mother had been the most royal woman in the world. The sight of a blazing golden flower, the most glorious in the garden, reminded me of my beloved twin. But Helios was only missing, not dead, and I refused to tempt fate by plucking that flower from its vine. Helios promised me that we’d never live to see this day; he swore he’d never let me be married off to one of the emperor’s cronies, but the day had come and Helios was gone.

A startled murmur of slaves made me turn and see a shadow pass between two pillars. It was the emperor. Augustus. The first time I ever saw him, he was a dark conquering god, a crimson-faced swirl of purple cloak and laurel leaf, ready to mount his golden chariot and bear me away as his chained prisoner. Today he wore only a broad-brimmed hat and a humble homespun tunic cut short enough to expose his knobby knees. But the smile he wore with it wasn’t humble. This morning—the morning of the day he’d give me away in marriage—Augustus looked supremely smug.

He was without his usual retinue of barbers, secretaries, and guards. Even so, the slaves, including my Chryssa, all dropped to their knees and genuflected. He stepped over their prone bodies as if he were one of the Eastern rulers he derided for tyranny, for he was the master here. He owned everything in this garden: the Greek statuary, the marble benches, the colorful flowers, and the slaves. For four years now, I’d been his royal hostage and he believed he owned me too.

One day soon, I meant to prove him wrong.

“Good morning, Caesar,” I said, sweeping dark hair from my eyes.

Understand that the emperor wasn’t an imposing man. His power was all in the snare of his ruthless winter gray eyes which now darkened with suspicion, as if he’d caught me trying to slip past his praetorians with their crested helmets and crimson capes. “What mischief are you up to, Cleopatra Selene?”

After all the opportunities I’d declined to run away from him, it was strange that he’d suspect me of it now. I wondered what accounted for his latest paranoia. “I’m only gathering flowers for my wedding wreath.”

I showed him my basket, and seemingly satisfied, he glanced over his shoulder through the open doors to where he received clients and other morning visitors. The tabulinum was now empty except for the clutter of scrolls, brass oil lamps, and busts of his ancestors, the Julii, each painted to create the most lifelike rendition. “Walk with me,” the emperor said, and I did, for no one refused him. “This morning I granted an audience to an ambassador from Judea, Selene. King Herod sends a last-minute wedding proposal. He wishes to take you as his junior wife.”

The mere mention of Herod’s name made my steps falter. The Judean king had been my mother’s rival and had long urged the Romans to exterminate my whole family. The news that he wished to make me, the last daughter of the pharaohs, a part of his harem, actually forced a gasp from my lungs. The proposal would have been more insulting if it were anything other than a pretext to kill me. Herod had already murdered his most beloved wife to make an end to her Hasmonean dynasty. He wouldn’t lose a moment’s sleep over my death. “Caesar, you cannot mean to give me to Herod. You swore to make me Queen of Mauretania!”

Augustus smiled. I think it pleased him to see me lose my footing, to see my confidence waver. “Trust in Caesar, Selene. You’re already promised to another and in such an important matter as your marriage, I wouldn’t cater to the whim of a Jew—even if he’s already proved his loyalty, and you haven’t. Yet.”

I breathed, realizing that he’d told me this only to frighten me. To remind me of his largesse. To make me gasp with fear and then relief. Though Augustus was more than twenty years my senior, no wicked boy plucking wings off insects loved cruel games as much as he did. He stopped beside a small sphinx he’d pilfered from Egypt to adorn his garden. “Be grateful, Selene. By the end of this evening, you’ll be the wife of a newly made king, and the wealthiest woman in the empire. Not even your mother could have asked for more.”

Of course, she did ask for more. Offering her crown and scepter to him in surrender, she’d asked that her children be allowed to rule Egypt after her. Then she took her own life. My mother’s suicide had been convenient for him in every way, and I’m certain that his advisers all breathed easier when she breathed her last, but Augustus had been shocked by her death. Shaken by it. Octavian always wants most what he cannot have, she’d said, as if she’d known that it would ignite an obsession in him. He’d wanted her alive. He’d wanted her as a trophy. He’d settled upon me instead. “Half of Rome will be here for your wedding, Selene. Let my enemies bear witness to how kindly I treat Antony’s daughter. Your father’s partisans may whisper that I’m the descendant of slaves, but let them see how the grandson of a rope maker now gives away a royal princess in marriage.”

There it was. The cavernous insecurity at the center of his character that drove his every action. It didn’t matter that he’d vanquished all his rivals. Not his ever-expanding imperial compound with its marble and showy gardens, not the mountains of gold in his coffers, nor the might of his legions would ever conquer his fear that somewhere, someone was laughing at him. “Are you sure it shouldn’t be a simpler wedding, Caesar? More in keeping with austere Roman values?” I asked, because I feared Roman crowds and knew from bitter experience that they could be dangerous.

He tilted his head, his eyes shadowed beneath the brim of his hat. “I mean for your wedding to be a spectacle and you’re too ambitious to want it any other way. Today will make plain to Isis worshippers who foment dissent in Rome and rebellion in Egypt that they dare not oppose me, for I have a Cleopatra of my very own. Remember our bargain. Marry the man I choose for you and do as I command. Glorify me and I’ll show mercy to your surviving brothers, your countrymen, and to those who worship your loathsome foreign goddess. Be my Cleopatra and one day your mother’s Egypt may be yours.”

By late afternoon, the slaves had stripped my room bare. The golden incense burners, the red and green tapestries, the painted oil lamps, and even the kithara harp I played to amuse the emperor—almost everything that had ever lent color or comfort to my room here—all packed into trunks and satchels. Turning my eyes to my dressing table, I thought of the loose brick beneath it, the one Helios used to pull out of the wall so that we could whisper to one another when the Romans slept. We’d never do that again, I realized. Even if the emperor’s hounds hunted down my runaway twin brother and hauled him back to the Palatine, I wouldn’t be here . . .

With a sharp knock at my door, the emperor’s sister marched to my side to attend me. It was a mother’s duty to dress her daughter for marriage and Lady Octavia was the closest thing to a mother that I had left in this world. She’d been my father’s wife when he embarked upon his grand love affair with my mother. But after my parents were sealed in their tombs, Octavia had collected all my father’s children. Though she was a rigid woman, I’d come to love her. Even so, it felt like betrayal to let her take my mother’s place on this day. We were awkward together as we hadn’t been in years. “Well,” she said, both hands on her fleshy hips. “Let’s get you ready, Selene.”

She used a special comb to divide my hair into the six segments of the tutulus, the traditional hairstyle worn by Roman brides. “What a vicious little comb,” I hissed, wincing as she tugged mercilessly. “Why is it shaped like a spear?”

“It’s to drive out ill fortune,” she said, cheerfully. “It’s also to remind us of the Sabine women, the first Roman wives, forced to wed at the tip of a spear!”

“That hardly seems like something to be remembered with pride,” I muttered.

Octavia only tilted my chin with a sentimental sigh. “Oh, Selene, you’re going to be a lovely bride. Your father was always given to emotion, you know, and I think if he saw you, it would bring a tear to his eye.” In spite of the many wrongs he’d done her, Octavia never spoke against my father, for which I was grateful. “I think you have Antony’s best qualities.”

This puzzled me because my father had been a big jolly man with a raucous laugh whereas I was slender and decidedly sober. “I can’t imagine how I’m like my father.”

“He inspired people and so do you,” she said. “My daughters imitate you. Your royal poise, the way you hold your posture, and your piety. Because you work so hard at your lessons, the little ones study more. It’s your gift, Selene. You lead everyone around you to aspire to something greater. Even me.”

I stammered, because it was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me. “E-even you?”

As the emperor’s sister, Octavia had always held influence. Now that her son Marcellus had married the emperor’s daughter, Lady Octavia was the most powerful woman in Rome. Wearing her distinctively severe hairstyle with its knot over her brow like a crown, she lifted her chin. “As the emperor’s heir, my son is still young, untested. Marcellus will need guidance more than ever and I think I can help him. He and Julia need to win over the people so I’m going to find a way to fund a beautiful new theater as a gift to the city.”

“They’re fortunate to have an ally in you,” I said, knowing how this would irritate the emperor’s ambitious wife, Livia. Octavia had supplanted her role as First Woman in Rome. Truly, it was a new day.

Octavia seemed to feel it too. “You’ve made a good match, Selene! And your story sounds so romantic. Two scions of African royalty. Two orphans saved by the emperor and adopted into his family, only to become stewards over a new land. Why, if I were your age, I might even envy you this marriage. Your groom is such a handsome young man.”

“I’m familiar with his virtues,” I said, for Juba was no stranger to me. The deposed Numidian princeling was a scholar. Such a prodigy, in fact, that he’d been my tutor. Once I’d even counted him a friend. Now he was just the husband the emperor had chosen for me and the first step I must take on my path back to Egypt.

“You’re a lucky girl,” Octavia chattered on. “He’s going to be a splendid, civilized king. Rex Literatissimus, they call him. And such a fine specimen of a man—no woman in Rome can avoid following him with her eyes. But remember that he is a man. No sweet boy like my Marcellus.” Given the clumsy way her hands worked in my hair, and her unusually breezy banter, I realized that she was working up to something. “Selene, do you know what Juba will expect from you in the bridal bed?”

My cheeks burned. Everyone imagined my mother as a seductress with great knowledge of the sensual arts, but I’d been young when she died; she’d never shared any of that particular wisdom with me. “I—I think I can guess.”

Octavia now looked sour, as if she were about to face a torment of the spirit. “This is what will happen. When you’re alone in the bridal chamber, Juba will call you wife and draw you into his arms. But you mustn’t go willingly or he’ll think you’re a lupa.” A she-wolf, she said, but she meant whore. “You must shy away and struggle just enough to please him but not enough to make him angry. Then submit to him as your husband and your king.”

Helios is my king. The thought came to me so suddenly and unbidden that I feared that I’d said it aloud. My twin was the rightful King of Egypt and dearer to me than I could dare admit. Some said that it was for his sake that the city of Thebes had rebelled. I’d bargained for my twin’s life, so I’d have to submit to the emperor’s wishes and to Juba too. I’d just have to remind myself every day how fortunate I was not to be married off to old King Herod of Judea.

When my little gray cat leapt onto the dressing table, upsetting a tray of hairpins and ribbons, Octavia cried, “Wretched creature! I won’t be sorry to see that beast leave with you. I can’t see why cats are sacred in Egypt. They’re nothing but mischief.” Bast took no notice of this insult, purring and burrowing into my arms while Octavia scowled. “Oh dear. I’m making a mess of your hair. My fingers aren’t as nimble as they used to be. I’ll let your ornatrix fix it.”

My slave girl fixed my hairstyle, and then we dallied until dusk, trying to decide between two pairs of sandals, one of which was prettier but pinched my toes. At last, Chryssa helped me into my wedding garments. The white muslin tunica and accompanying girdle. The floral wreath and the orange flame-colored veil. This was the garb of a modest Roman bride, but in spite of all the years I’d lived amongst my father’s people, it still looked foreign to me. When I glanced into the polished silver mirror, I groaned in dismay. Octavia had bound my hair in such a way that it smothered everything unique about me. The white muslin left me looking pale, hiding what beauty I possessed, and I was all but suffocated by the saffron veil. “It’s horrible.”

“No,” Chryssa said, softly. “You’re a beautiful bride.”

But this was something people said to brides, whether or not it was true. I pulled the veil away. “I need . . . something else.”

Chryssa’s eyes widened. “It’s almost time for the wedding. Half the city is at the gates.”

This did nothing to calm me. Roman weddings were supposed to be small and modest affairs, simple contracts that required only a few witnesses. Mine would be different. The guests would be looking to see if I was just a Roman girl, the daughter of Mark Antony, or if I was Cleopatra’s daughter, a sorceress whose blood made flowers grow, whose hands left crocodiles docile in her wake. As the foremost worshipper of Isis in Rome, stories about me had passed from temple to temple, tavern to tavern, and the slaves and the lower classes whispered that I might bring them a Golden Age. I’d emboldened them. Perhaps I’d inspired them. So maybe I need not fear the crowds; I wasn’t a prisoner anymore.

Be my Cleopatra, the emperor said, and one day your mother’s Egypt may be yours.
Augustus was a grand actor in a pageant of his own creation and the only way to remain in his favor was to play my role. He wanted spectacle? Well, I would give him one. With deep resolution, I unwound the braids that Octavia had so painstakingly fastened, brushing out my dark hair so that it curled and cascaded, loose and free over my shoulders. “I won’t be a Roman bride,” I said. “My mother was Pharaoh and I’ll let no one forget it.”

Chryssa’s mouth formed a circle of surprise when I threw open my wardrobe chest, giving no care to the fact that the slaves had carefully packed it for the journey. I rifled through it until I found a beautiful diaphanous gown that Helios had given me. Octavia had tried to make it modest with stitches and brooches. Now I refashioned it. Removing the pins, I wrapped the gown under my arms and tied it between my breasts in the knot of Isis, the tiet, a loop with trailing sides that was a variant of the ankh. My wide-eyed slave girl watched me as if I’d gone mad. “You’re going to give insult. You’ll anger the emperor!”

“I know him better than you do.” Since I was a little child, I’d learned to play all the emperor’s games; this was just one more. Be my Cleopatra, the emperor had said, and I was young and foolish enough to believe I knew what that meant. “Don’t stand there gaping, Chryssa. Help me!”

Reluctantly, she went to my dressing table, searching for the proper cosmetic pots, as I told her what to do. My mother had been a Hellenistic queen, and when she dressed for the civilized Greek-speaking world, she dressed accordingly. But she’d also been Pharaoh of Egypt. It was that reminder of Egypt I wanted now, so I urged Chryssa to draw on my eyelids with black kohl, the dark lines of the wedjat—the eye of Horus. Then she used the greens and blues and reds of Egypt to color my face. When she was done, I held up the mirror and peered at myself with the green eyes of a jungle cat, exotic and wild. “You need more jewelry,” Chryssa suggested, finally warming to the idea. “Something sparkling to go with your little jade frog and betrothal ring.”

I knew just the thing. Carefully wrapped in the bloodstained dress I’d worn as a prisoner, was a golden snake armlet with gemstone eyes that my mother left for me when she’d foreseen her own death. I retrieved it from under my mattress, where I’d kept the bundle hidden for years, and slipped the armlet up until it hugged my bicep, its history merging with my skin. The effect was dazzling and scandalous. “You look like your mother’s portraits,” Chryssa breathed.

But I saw in myself someone entirely new.

*****My review plus a giveaway is coming later today*****

Giveaway: Lethal by Sandra Brown

I enjoyed this book so much and in honor of it coming out this Tuesday I thought I would have a quick giveaway of my copy of the book.  All you need to do to enter is put your name and email in Rafflecopter.  There are other optional entries available, but not necessary.  US/Canada only, ends Monday night, I'll announce the winner on Tuesday when the book comes out.  You can see my review here.

Book Review: Lethal by Sandra Brown

Lethal by Sandra Brown

Publisher: Grand Central Publishing

Publish Date: September 20, 2011

Hardcover, 480 pages 
Fiction, Suspense with Romantic elements
 ISBN: 978-1455501472

My Review:

My thoughts:  I received this on the Friday of Labor Day weekend and had it read by Sunday - I was that excited to receive it.  Sandra Brown is a must-read each year for me and after Lethal she remains a must-read.  She just has a way with characters and suspense that grabs me when I read her books and her characters stay with me long after I finish the books and I like that.


Lethal starts off like a freight train with a wanted man stumbling into Honor's yard.  It seems random at first, but she quickly learns it's not.  There is something in her house that Lee Coburn wants, something her dead husband had and Coburn will stop at nothing to get it.  Honor will do anything to keep her and her daughter safe.  Meanwhile the manhunt for Coburn is going on and even Honor's father-in-law is in on it as he is former law enforcement.  But things in the town aren't always as they seem.

I loved it, every time I thought I had something figured out, Ms. Brown threw me a curve ball and changed things on me.  I never quite knew what was coming next and finally gave up trying to figure it out and just started enjoying reading the book.  It is a thrill ride as far as the plot is concerned.  There are twists and turns.  There is great action.  All of it makes sense as it happens and it doesn't come out of left field.  I really enjoyed the plot line, it was never dull.  There is also a romance thread, but it really takes a backseat to the suspense, but it is there for those readers who enjoy a little romance with their suspense.  The tension between Honor and Coburn is great and Ms. Brown knows how to write the romance so it's believable as well.

The characters are great.  Of course Honor and Coburn are fleshed out the best as the two main characters.  We get insight into both of them and get to see them grow and change in the book.  There are some great parts when both of them realize they need to change some things about themselves and I really liked that.  I also liked the little bit I got to know about Honor's father-in-law, he's tough, a former marine, but he faces a realization as well.  Some of the others typify southern townfolk, and then some will just surprise you.  I think Ms. Brown has a definite way with characters that makes them stay with you after the book is long done.  I don't always remember the names, but I will remember things about them.  However I think Honor and Coburn will stick in my mind for quite awhile.


Great suspense, romance and characters make this latest book by Sandra Brown a must-read.  It comes out next Tuesday so I highly suggest you make a point to get a copy of this great book.


My Rating: 5.0/5.0


About the Book:
When her four year old daughter informs her a sick man is in their yard, Honor Gillette rushes out to help him. But that "sick" man turns out to be Lee Coburn, the man accused of murdering seven people the night before. Dangerous, desperate, and armed, he promises Honor that she and her daughter won't be hurt as long as she does everything he asks. She has no choice but to accept him at his word.

But Honor soon discovers that even those close to her can't be trusted. Coburn claims that her beloved late husband possessed something extremely valuable that places Honor and her daughter in grave danger. Coburn is there to retrieve it -- at any cost. From FBI offices in Washington, D.C., to a rundown shrimp boat in coastal Louisiana, Coburn and Honor run for their lives from the very people sworn to protect them, and unravel a web of corruption and depravity that threatens not only them, but the fabric of our society

About the Author: 
Sandra Brown is the author of sixty New York Times bestsellers, including TOUGH CUSTOMER (2010), SMASH CUT (2009), SMOKE SCREEN (2008), PLAY DIRTY (2007), RICOCHET (2006), CHILL FACTOR (2005), WHITE HOT (2004), HELLO, DARKNESS (2003), THE CRUSH (2002), ENVY (2001), THE SWITCH (2000), THE ALIBI (1999), UNSPEAKABLE (1998) and FAT TUESDAY (1997), all of which have jumped onto the Times bestseller list in the number one to five spot. Brown now has over seventy million copies of her books in print worldwide, and her work has been translated into thirty-three languages.

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FTC Information: I received this book from the publisher for an honest review. 

BBAW 2011: Reading Habits

Today's topic is Reading Habits:

Book bloggers blog because we love reading. Has book blogging changed the way you read? Have you discovered books you never would have apart from book blogging? How has book blogging affected your book acquisition habits? Have you made new connections with other readers because of book blogging? Choose any one of these topics and share your thoughts today!

Wow which topic to choose, well the first is easy - I don't think it's changed the way I read, except I read with an eye towards the review now, but that's not enough to make a post out of.

Topic 2:  I have definitely discovered books I would have never found apart from book blogging.  When I stumbled upon the book blogging world probably 6 or 7 years ago it was mainly through author blogs and few book blogs.  Then there started to be more book blogs and I started to branch beyond the authors that I knew about (meaning the NYT bestseller lists or ones my friends told me about or ones I heard about on the Nora Roberts board).  I found Adriana Trigiani, Sue Monk Kidd, Jodi Picoult (remember this is 6 or 7 years ago).  Then a few years passed and there were more book blogs and I learned of Scott Nicholson, Bentley Little, Joshilyn Jackson, Irene Hannon, Dee Henderson, Libby Malin and many more that I have tried and loved.  Then I started my own blog, I have email chatted with authors and loved their books, read their books, talked about their books on my blog and fallen in love with their books.  Book blogging has definitely opened me up to a whole new world of books, whether through the authors that pitch to me or through the reviews that I see on other book blogs.  I have a list a mile long of books I want to read.  I still love to read other book blogs just to see what is out there because there are so many great books and authors out there and I don't want to miss any of them.  My librarians love me - I checked out 9 books yesterday and they were all recommendations of book bloggers!  Who knows when I will get a chance to read them, but I have them and they all came highly recommended by someone :)

So I guess I chose Topic 2, I have definitely discovered a lot of great books I never would have if I had not found the wonderful world of book blogging.  I thank my fellow book bloggers for starting their blogs because without them I would not have all these great recommendations of books to read, so ladies and gentlemen, please keep up the reading and the reviewing - I love hearing about great books and even so-so books intrigue me.  Thank you again for your reviews!

It's Christmas in September

To celebrate the release of her first Christmas book, Suzanne Woods Fisher has teamed up with her publisher, Revell, to bring you the "Christmas in September" iPad Giveaway!
The winner will be announced on 9/27 at the A Lancaster County Christmas Facebook Party! Details below. Tell your friends and join in the fun (9/7-9/27).


Oh and be sure to follow the blog tour here - many of the bloggers have copies of the book to giveaway! 

Suzanne and Revell will be presenting one merry winner with a Christmas Prize Pack (valued at over $600):

• A Brand New iPad 2 with Wi-Fi
• $25 gift certificate to iTunes
• A copy of A Lancaster County Christmas

To enter, click one of the icons below. But, hurry the giveaway ends on 9/26.


But, wait! There's more! The winner will be announced at the A Lancaster County Christmas Facebook Party on 9/27 at Suzanne's author page. During the party she'll be revealing something *BIG* - you won't want to miss it. She'll also be hosting a book chat, trivia contest and giving away a few early Christmas presents! Hope to see you there.

Book Review: The Queen by Steven James

The Queen by Steven James

Publisher: Revell

Publish Date: September 1, 2011

Paperback, 517 pages 
Fiction, Suspense
 ISBN: 978-0800733032
Patrick Bowers Files #5

My Review:

My thoughts:  I have been reading and enjoying suspense since college, and I wont say how many years that has been, but let's just say that has been a plenty :).  Now I say I have enjoyed plenty of suspense but I can count on my two hands the number of books that have captivated me in the way Steven James' The Queen captivated me.  The Queen is one of those books that picks you up on the first page sucks you in and you become so completely absorbed into the story until the very last page that it does not get out of your head even when you have to shut it and go on to other things.  Really it does.  But it's not only that, what impressed me even more is the quality of the plotting and the quality of the writing.  Not since the first three Thomas Harris books in the Hannibal Lector series have I felt that way about a book.  The careful crafting of a central police figure and the careful crafting of a bad guy (or in this case several bad guys) and the plot to go with it is just so amazing that I stand in awe.  The writing is stellar.  The characters are real with real problems beyond their jobs and the plot is just amazing.

The Queen is beyond compare in the suspense/thriller genre for me so far this year.  I will eagerly go back and read this series from the beginning.  While this is the fifth book in the series, and the earlier events are alluded to, I never felt at a loss reading this one without reading the earlier books.  Enough history is brought out that I can understand the characters and their motivations.  However I am so impressed by this story and the writer that I will go back and read the earlier stories.  I won't go back and rehash this story because I don't want to give anything away.  Just suffice to say that even the setting plays a major role and the author makes that work to his advantage as well.  I like bad guys that are redeemable or at least seem that way, good guys looking to just do right, teenagers just trying to find their way and brothers trying to find their way back to each other.  Add in a plot that is just crazy enough to be believable and you have one stellar book that I almost want to read again right now just because I already miss the characters.  Instead I'm going to the library today to pick up The Pawn and start the series from the beginning so check out that review coming in a few weeks, but until then if you are out and about and see The Queen for sale you just might want to buy a copy for yourself and find out just how great this book is.

My Rating: 5.0/5.0

Available September 2011 at your favorite bookseller from Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group.

About the Book:
While investigating a mysterious double homicide in an isolated northern Wisconsin town, FBI Special Agent Patrick Bowers uncovers a high-tech conspiracy that ties together long-buried Cold War secrets with present-day tensions in the Middle East.

In his most explosive thriller yet, bestselling author Steven James delivers a pulse-pounding, multilayered storytelling tour de force that will keep you guessing.

The Queen is the latest Patrick Bowers thriller from the author Publishers Weekly calls a "master storyteller at the peak of his game."

About the Author: 
Critically acclaimed author Steven James has written four other award-winning Patrick Bowers novels as well as many works of nonfiction. He has a master's degree in storytelling and has taught writing and creative storytelling on three continents. He lives near the Blue Ridge Mountains of Tennessee with his wife and three daughters.

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FTC Information: I received this book from the Revell books for an honest review.