Tuesday, April 26, 2011

BookReview~That's when i talk to god.

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That's When I Talk To God
Dan & Ali Morrow
I Loved this book and felt so luck to be able to share it with my son.
He is 3 and I am trying to teach him about God and Church.
He has started to go to Sunday School and there is a lot of
times I know he needs to talk to God so I think this is going to help us alot.
I am even thinking of taking it to share with his Sunday School class.
This way others will be able to learn what we learned and they can all
work on it together.
One of the nice things is is Charlie plays soccer as well so he was able to
relate to this part which was nice.
We do so Prayers at dinner but now I can start to work with him at night as
well as when we where reading the book he himself said he needs to Pray at night.
My new goal besides getting him to do this is to get my husband to as I know if he
does it with us it will help my son be more receptive to it.
So if you have a little one who needs to learn about God and Praying then I would
suggest you taking the time to share this book with them.

Interview with YA Author Jennifer Walker

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Interview with YA Author Jennifer Walker and Book Giveaway
Book Give-Away April 25 – May 2: To win Bubba to the Rescue, leave a comment about this interview with your e-mail. US only.
What starts out as a leisurely trail ride turns into a terrifying afternoon when Alex and Leslie see a plume of smoke rising in the trees. After saving the neighbor's horses from a horrible fate, the two teens must run through the burning woods and get back to Green Meadow before it's too late. On the way, they encounter a strange horse wandering through the woods by itself, and it follows them home. Leslie soon becomes attached to "Spark" when she can't find his owner...but will she get to keep him, or will someone come forward to claim the horse she has come to love?
To win a book, leave a comment at http://lindaweaverclarke.blogspot.com

BookBlogTour~ Jamie Magee

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 Authors Book Corner:

 (Tuesday) April 26th, 2011 is the 2nd NURTURE book tour stop scheduled for the YA novel, INSIGHT by Jamie Magee
We are offering a Global book giveaway for one (1) eBook copy of INSIGHT.

Review~ Coming Soon!
Interview~ Coming Soon!
Author Bio:
Jamie Magee has always believed that each of us have a defining gift that sets us apart from the rest of the world, she has always envied those who have known from their first breath what their gift was. Not knowing hers, she began a career in the fast paced world of business. Raising a young family, and competing to rise higher in that field would drive some to the point of insanity, but she always found a moment of escape in a passing daydream. Her imagination would take her to places she’d never been, introduce her to people she’s never known. Insight, her debuting novel, is a result of that powerful imagination. Today, she is grateful that not knowing what defined her, led her on a path of discovery that would always be a part of her.

Insight – Book Tour Schedule with NURTURE Virtual BOOK Tourz™
·       April 25th – Paula P. @ The Phantom Paragrapher
·       April 26th – Glenda C. @ Authors Book Corner
·       April 27th – Bobbie @ NURTURE Virtual BOOK Tourz™ BLOG
·       April 28th – Emily L.@ Southern Fiber Reads
·       April 29th – April R. @ My Book Addiction and More
·       April 30th – Wendy H. @ Minding Spot
·       May 1st – Grace L. @ Books Like Breathing
·       May 2nd – Sheila H. @ The Dark Circle
·       May 3rd – Sara S. @ Inspired Quill
·       May 4th – TBD
·       May 5th – Kristen T. @ Seeing Night Book Reviews
·       May 6th – Melissa B. @ Books R Us
Author’s book tour page (will be updated soon): Vist other blog spots in the tour
Author’s website:  learn more about the author and her books
Twitter:  follow on twitter; retweet for chance at winning the givaway
Facebook Fan Page for INSIGHT:  fan on FB and enter to win.
Jamie Magee - Goodreads profile:  learn more about Jamie and her books.

INSIGHT Book Trailers: YouTube Video & Feature Video
Book Title: INSIGHT, Book 1
Author’s Name: Jamie Magee
Published by: Lulu (7/30/2011)
Recommended Reader Age:  15+
Genre(s): YA, Fiction/Urban Fantasy
Book formats: eBook & perfect paperback
ISBN: 978-0-557-52293-4
Pages: 304
Purchase links for INSIGHT:
NOOKbook  $0.99 cents!! -
Kindle -JamieMagee
Paperback from Amazon.com - Amazon
Special NEWS: Embody, Book 1 - release date should be 6/7/11
INSIGHT synopsis:
Some say that dreams are the doorway to the soul. Willow Haywood is no stranger to that doorway. Each night she shares a blissful, silent dream with a stunning blue-eyed boy. With each new moon she is haunted by a painful nightmare shared with a different boy, who’s always hidden by the shadows.
In her waking hours she must battle her sixth sense. The one that allows her to feel others emotions as if they were her own. This insight is exhausting and frustrating causing her to draw inward, only trusting her family and few close friends. Oddly, this sense also attracts ghostly images that seem to appear out of nowhere.  With a touch, they take her to wherever they may be, allowing her to change their emotion. This alone would cause most to go insane, but Willow filters her aggression by painting, capturing the emotion she changed.
One August night a nightmare came days after the new moon. In this dream the shadowed boy marked her wrist with star, leaving her father no choice but to share a family secret that would tie all of the odd attributes of Willow’s life together. Now, she has no choice but to outrun the fate that is closing in around her.
 In an attempt to lure her, the shadowed figure captures her closest friends.  In order to save them, she must weave through broken myths, half truths, and the undeniable power of the Zodiac. With each step she takes Willow comes to realize that she has lived before, her path is one that she chose, and this trial is simply the beginning.
INSIGHT excerpt:
""I was terrified; the summer air blew through my open window as I tossed and turned in bed, lost in a dark dream. I was having one of the bad dreams where I could not feel the ones around me; they had no emotion, or even a mood. The same dream had haunted me since childhood, and the heavy weight on my chest was almost unbearable, leaving me with shortness of breath. On top of that, the adrenaline rushing through my body gave way to hair-raising chills.
Being unacknowledged by the people in this place had become normal. They seemed lost in their own personal hell; lines gave definition to their faces, and the world around them was gray. In order to lift the weight from my chest and wake from this horrible hell, I would have to find the one who had called me here, the one I could feel - whom my touch could help.
I made my way through the gloomy street, pushing through others as they walked by in a solemn state. I reached out with all my senses, and could I hear the sound of arguing growing louder; that had to be my way out, and the weight on my chest grew stronger telling me I was right. Fear began to race through me, though, so I tried calming myself by remembering that they could not see me, that I was a ghost to them.
Small windows lined the tall gray cement walls; darkness lingered behind most, while lights illuminated others. There was no grass, trees, or sign of birds or any other life beyond the hopeless people all dressed in long black cloaks. Everything was so controlled and uniform; the absence of color, music, and laughter was almost as scary as the emptiness in their eyes.
As I walked closer, fear overtook me upon the realization of what I’d anticipated: the one who had called me was close. The weight was reaching a degree of unbearable pain, and my emotions were nearing anger. Why did it have to hurt? I tried to push away the invisible force that was torturing me, but my efforts were in vain just as they always have been.
The arguing was coming from one of the small windows on the first level. A man was yelling as a woman cried out, not being heard. On the front steps, I saw a little boy; he looked to be five or six, and he maintained a blank stare into the darkness with purest of blue eyes. His hair was long and messy, and the clothes he was wearing were tattered and dirty. I felt so sorry for him; I wanted to take him from there, but that was nothing short of impossible. Putting my anger and fear aside, I sat down next to him and placed my hand on his small back. I thought of how happy he could be if he were only given some sense of being loved. How great he would feel if he could be the center of some lucky parents’ world. The little boy dropped his eyes as he felt me; oddly, his emotion shifted to regret and sorrow. Not understanding, I focused on peace, and his emotion slowly gave into mine, bringing a sense of calm into his little body. I hoped that I would have been able to bring him happiness, but my time there was coming to an end. Silence came, and the little boy disappeared, as the people on the street did. The wind whistled through the barren cold walls, and I could only hear my heartbeat.
I stood, bracing myself for what I knew would happen. A tall dark figure emerged from the shadows, his contemptuous laugh echoing through the darkness. He has been in every nightmare I’ve ever had, taunting me, trying to force me to succumb to him. His face is always hidden by the darkness, and the dragon tattooed on the inside of his arm told me he was the same one. This figure was once a child, but now, both young adults, we played the game that brought only him pleasure. He crept closer to me, laughing under his breath. He then reached for me, and I knew from my previous nightmares that a burning white light was about to push right through me. I crossed my hands in front of my face, blocking the surge of light.
When the light did not come, I slowly lowered my hands. The figure was standing just in front of me; I still could not see his face, but I could feel his eyes searching over me. He grasped my wrist, where I have a tattoo of an Ankh, a beautiful cross that opens at the top with a loop. My instinct was to pull away, but I could not make my mind and body agree. With his touch, I felt a hypnotizing, warm sensation that eased through my wrist, up my arm, and circled through my body, taking the weight off my chest. His thumb traced over the cross, and I sensed him smirk.
“This is true…I will find you now,” he said in a deep, controlled voice. He pressed his thumb in the center of the loop, and the warm sensation turned into a blazing burn. I screamed through the pain, finally waking.
My screams brought my father into my room; he’s always the first person to respond when I wake in the night. I’ve never told my parents the details of the nightmares. Since before I can remember, I’ve always felt the emotions of the people around me as if they were my own. If I told him how scared I really was, I would have to feel his fear as well as my own so putting the event behind me seemed much simpler.
“Willow, wake up,” my father said; he’s always had a calm feeling to him.
I opened my eyes and sat up quickly, finding myself safely in my own room - right where I belonged. I then grabbed my wrist, still feeling the pain.
“You haven’t had one of those dreams in a while,” my father said, turning on the lamp. The last one I’d had came on the eve of my eighteenth birthday in November; it was now mid- August, and we all hoped I’d simply grown out of them. It seemed, though, the odd characteristics that I developed during my childhood would never really leave me.
“I don’t understand; the new moon was two days ago,” my father said, almost to himself.
When I was a child, I had nightmares with each new moon. So, I’d fallen asleep that night without a fear in the world, thinking I’d successfully passed through another month without having to face that figure; it seems, though, that he will always be connected to me.
“I’m alright, Dad. Really.”
My father was full of fear. I looked at him; his hazel eyes had turned to a shade of brown - as they always do when he’s concerned about something. He shook his head slowly, not agreeing with me.
“Let me see your wrist,” he said quietly.
My father is Dr. Jason Haywood, and he always seems to always know if I’m hurting more than I let on. I’ve never been able to fake myself well - or sick, for that matter.
When I got the tattoo of the Ankh, my mother, Grace, was furious, and she grounded me for the first time in my life. My father, though, simply asked why I’d chosen that one; I never really had an answer. The symbol stood for eternal life, which was something I’ve always found fascinating. My friends were picking out butterflies and flowers, but the Ankh seemed more fitting for me.
I slowly uncovered my wrist, expecting to see a burn; instead, inside the loop at the top of the Ankh was a small star. I felt my father’s shock, fear, and disbelief, and my eyes widened as I tried to understand. I then got up and pushed past my father.
“Where are you going?” he asked, standing to follow me.
“I just want to wash my face, Dad. I’m fine; go back to bed,” I said over my shoulder, trying to block his emotions.
The bathroom was next to my room. I closed the door behind me, rushed to the sink, and began trying to scrub away the star. I couldn’t believe it; I didn’t understand what I’d done to deserve this. Why do I have to be so different?
Feeling the emotions of the ones around me isn’t the only aspect of my gift; while I’m awake, I can also see images of the people who are not here. They all need my help and are seeking someone to comfort them, so I touch them and somehow give them the emotion they’re craving. With each touch, I’m taken to wherever they may be, and when I release them, I’m pulled back into my reality.
I’ve never understood why they could not see me, where I went, or how I even managed to do what I did, and every day I’m haunted by these questions. When the nightmares stopped a few months back, the images seemed to fade as well. Since helping the images is the only thing that makes sense about what I can do, I channelled my aggression through painting, trying to capture the emotions I’d changed; this gave me the desire to help again.
Recently, though, I put my brush down, and haven’t so much as doodled on a napkin since. My mother believes I have a creative block; she’s an artist, too, and sees my painting as a rare talent. In a couple weeks, she is sending me to a school of art in New York… the thought of having a nightmare so far from home is terrifying in and of itself.
My wrist was red and raw; the star was still there. I splashed water on my face, then stared into the mirror, trying to look past my emerald green eyes; I wanted to see the answers somewhere inside of me.
I could feel my parents downstairs; they were filled with a sense of urgency and panic. I took a deep breath, wishing that I could change the emotions of the ones around me. If I could, I would go down there and move them back to the peace and excitement that belonged to them.
I dried my face off and put lotion on my tattoo, trying to ease the burn. I then turned off the light and opened the door, just wanting to go to my room and hide. I could hear my parents whispering at the bottom of the stairs, and I looked over the banister to see my father fully dressed. He was trying to calm my mother down – but he was having little success. He grabbed his keys and kissed her before opening the front door to leave.
My own confusion outweighed the stunned emotion my mother was feeling as she stared at the closed door.
“Mom?” I said slowly, walking to the stairs.
My voice startled her, and she jumped and looked up at me. With a fake smile filling her face, she tried to find the familiar excitement that her emotion usually carried. She reached back and pulled down her long dark hair, trying to hide the red blemish that always surfaces on her chest when she’s hiding something.
“Where is Dad going?” I asked.
 She looked down, then back up at me trying to find words that would not be completely untruthful.
“Um, he…well, you see, he had go meet someone. At the…at the hospital,” she said, pulling her robe closed.
“It’s, like, two in the morning,” I protested, halting halfway down the stairs.
My mother’s eyes fell to my tattoo, and I felt a surge of fear as she saw the new addition. Not feeling like trying to explain it, I casually moved my arm behind my back.
“Honey, you know how good a doctor he is. They just need him; it’s nothing really,” she said, trying to convince herself.
 My father is an amazing doctor. He never really prescribes medicine or has to run painful tests to find a cure; he just seems to know what’s wrong and how to heal it. People come from every state just to see him. So, I almost believed her for a moment – that is, until I felt a dread rise inside her.
I was about to get angry when I heard my baby sister, Libby’s, bedroom door open at the other end of the hall. Only six, Libby is a lot like my mother; they both live with a constant child-like excitement rushing through them. Squinting her dark eyes in the light of the hall, Libby pushed her long, dark, tangled hair out of her face.
“Is it time to get up?” she asked me.
Seeing her way out of having to answer any more of my questions, my mother climbed the stairs quickly.
“No, baby girl, Daddy just had to go help someone,” she answered.
I felt Libby’s confusion; even she knew that that was odd. My mother reached Libby and took her hand.
“Come on, sweetie, I’ll lay with you,” my mother said to Libby, guiding her into her room. Libby looked back at me, and I shrugged my shoulders, letting her know that I didn’t understand either.
I stood awestruck for a moment before going back to my room. Leaving the light on, I then climbed under my covers, and immediately my mind went back to the words that the figure had said: “I will find you now.” The details of the nightmares, the images, and feeling people around me are traits that I’ve always kept to myself – out of fear that my family will think that I’m insane if I tell them.
As a child, I only had nightmares during a new moon, but every single night I dreampt of another place. There, I always found the same person…I cannot recall a single day of my life that I have not seen him.
This beautiful person has always mesmerized me with his intense blue eyes, which give way to perfect lips highlighted by beautiful dimples that come to life when he smiles at me. His shoulders are broad, and his tall frame is lean and muscular.
I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes, holding his image in my mind, hoping this time that I’d find him instead of the unexpected horror that I’d already faced that night.
I slowly opened my eyes to a bright sunlit field. Relief swept through me as I started to search for the one who gave me peace.
It felt like I belonged there, like it belonged to me, and there was only one flaw: silence; I had never heard the voice of the one I love. Everything looked so pure. The grass, trees, and flowers smelled so sweet, the birds and butterflies drifted silently through the air, a small creek led into a larger waterway that fell into a beautiful gentle waterfall. Here, I was sure that I would find him - and I wished every day for this dream to come to life.
He was there, watching the water, waiting patiently for me to come. Feeling me approach, he turned and smiled at me as he brushed his dark, wavy hair out of his eyes. A smile filled my face, and I felt the air leave my lungs as I took him in, a life force.
Each time my nightmare would come before our meeting, he could see it in my face - and his concern and anger for whoever had hurt me was clear. Stepping closer to me, he read my eyes again, and the smile in his eyes faded. I looked down, almost ashamed that I was so weak. He held out his arms, and I fell into his embrace. I wanted to stay here, to hear him… all the insane things that happened to me would be worth it if only he were real.
The sound of lawnmowers woke me before I had a chance to say goodbye to my blue-eyed boy. I looked down to see the star still resting inside my Ankh and shook my head in disbelief. Knowing that I couldn’t lie still for another moment.""
Book Giveaway: eBook only – 1 copy per book tour – Globally