Monday, January 21, 2013
Forever Clan by January Bain book giveaway blast
Once upon a time there was a writer who coveted the bling of other writers who so kindly sent bags of goodies to her door. She pouted and postured and then got her way. And it was further decided to set a budget for such bling as would help promote the writer in a similar way to her co-authors. Many ideas were pondered and poured over until a list was culled to what was deemed worthy. And then the orders were sent and received with as much fun fare as a Christmas wish list. The mail was checked daily until the special day when the swag arrived in the wee town. Oh, but the oo’s and ah’s came fast and furious. Bling! Just what the author had ordered. And now she had something nice to bestow on readers and writers alike. Thanks to Jude Johnson and J.A. Garland for the inspiration for this blog! And to my husband for putting up with the whining and helping pick out the swag. You’re the best!
January Bain STORYTELLER
Forever Man Forever Woman Forever Clan
“I think reading all those vampire romance novels you love so much has addled your brain, Sunday Rose St. Clair. First, it was Grandma Rose and her faeries, and now you and your vampires,” her mother remarked without rancor as she deftly rolled out the piecrust for the fifth pie of the morning. Sunday Rose, in her task of peeling the Macintosh apples lagged behind her mother, earning herself a stern warning glare that plainly told her to hurry it up. She sighed, “But Ma, to be able to live forever, just imagine!” Her mother brushed back a wayward strand of still-bright auburn hair that belied her years. She left a streak of flour on her forehead. “You,” she said, “with your Titian hair, your emerald eyes filled with foolish dreams, your books and poetry, are so like Grandma Rose it sometimes frightens me. She was a last-born child, too, you know. And while some say it’s the middle one who tends to be fey, in this family, I think that’s not so.” Sunday Rose peeled another fragrant apple, sliced into the large tin basin positioned precariously in her lap. “But, Ma,” she said again. “To live forever? Wouldn’t that be something?” “I think it would be torture. I’ve done enough baking and cleaning and doing for others in this lifetime. I’d not care to continue it indefinitely. Be practical, child.” Sunday Rose hurried her pace at another warning glance from her mother, but continued to argue. “It’s not a practical matter. It’s about being able to have endless time to live and love and learn and—to just have more.” Yearning filled her voice as she tried to explain how she felt. “What do you know about love? You’re just a chit of a thing.” “I know that I’m going to find someone who will love me no matter what--who’ll love me unconditionally.”
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Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/January-Bain/e/B009B1HZ1Q/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1357522864&sr=8-1