Friday, October 31, 2014

"Stormfront" by K. R. Conway

(Undertow Book 2)
by K. R. Conway

Stormfront is the second book in K. R. Conway's Undertow series. Also available: Undertow.

Stormfront is currently on tour with YA Bound Book Tours. The tour stops here today for an excerpt and a giveaway. Please be sure to visit the other tour stops as well.

Not long ago Eila Walker’s choices were limited: death by a bullet to the head, or at the hands of her beloved bodyguard, Raef. Now, five weeks after Raef triggered her power and she nearly leveled a historic mansion, Eila is dealing with the fall-out of her decisions. While she doesn’t remember dying in the arms of the soul thief who loves her, she knows that Raef remembers everything about the night he nearly killed her.
Now on the mend and attempting to keep one step ahead of the FBI, Eila and her team of misfits are desperate for a bit of normal. Eila is trying to navigate high school, while her BFF Ana is cautiously hanging with past-boyfriend and soul thief, Kian. Shape-shifter, MJ, is trying not to piss off his mother, while Raef is coping with his fears that Eila will never be safe.
But just as “normal” seems within their grasp, a powerfully built newcomer arrives. Raef knows the scarred man as a Blacklist Dealer – a soul thief, who peddles the names of humans who deserve to die. Eila, however, knows him as the protective hunter from the woods, who she nicknames Thor. Before long, Raef and Eila realize they’ve met the same killer, and he has one hell of a story to tell the five friends ... if Raef doesn’t murder him first.

From Raef’s POV
Standing in front of a long mirror in a pair of pinstriped PJs and a cropped t-shirt was Eila, methodically dragging a comb though her wet hair, separating her mane into rail-straight lines. She concentrated on her reflection, making sure not to miss a single ribbon of hair.
As I watched her, I was hit with a desperate desire to touch her and feel her coffee black hair stream through my fingers, leaving a damp, cold trail in its wake. I wanted to run my hand down the side of her neck, tracing the edge of her collarbone that rolled so perfectly under her delicate skin.
When she had been injured, I had come in and out of this room with things she needed, or simply sat and kept her company when Mae allowed. Back then I was filled with a brutal longing to see her well and on her feet again. Now, however, I was hit with a different kind of longing entirely.
She glanced over at me, and I noticed the t-shirt stuck to her shoulder because of a wet blotch from her hair. I envied the blotch ... and the fabric.
“Are you planning on standing in the doorway like a stalker, or are ya coming in?” she asked, finally snapping me out of my trance. I moved into the room, my eyes drifting over Eila’s space as she began braiding her hair.

Interview with the Author

Featured Review
This series must be read in order. The first book is Undertow. This is the second book.
Eila found it disconcerting to find out she wasn't human. Or at least not all human that is. But to find out that not ONLY is she Lunaterran but Mortis as well?! There are no words! She. Should. Not. Exist. Ever! Not only does she not know how to control her power... No one has ever been like her in the history of the world. What new surprises will her hybrid genetics bring her? Are her powers even controllable? How is she still alive even? With the FBI poking around in the incident at the Breakers she may not even live long enough to find out anything about her heredity at all!
Raef is a man in love. He is torn up with guilt for his part in Eila's near death experience (let's face it... She WAS dead but the miraculously brought her back to life with modern medicine) and the fact that he failed to keep her safe from the traitor in their midst in the first place. He failed his friend Elizabeth but he refuses to fail her great grand daughter! Will Race ever stop blaming himself and ditch the paranoia patrol? Will they ever have anything even remotely approaching a normal life?
The supporting characters just keep getting better with each book! The quest to unlock and read the diary while discerning who is or is not on the proper side of the fight is almost all encompassing. Especially as new people arrive and others show conflicting natures. MJ, Anna, Christian and Kian almost deserve their own books! And the newcomers just add more intrigue and doubt into the mix making this one of the most thought provoking and engrossing reads I've had in a long time!
This amazing sequel starts out slow but stick with it! Believe me the exposition is truly needed especially as the action and mystery entwine crazily with the adventure that quickly picks up speed and drags you to the end wondering what happened and where all the time went! This book ate me :) This book is well worth the effort of getting through Eila's recovery and the exposition phase! Stick with is and you will be well rewarded! I can't wait to see what happens in the next book!!!
This series is suitable for (very) mature young adult through adult readers due to graphic violence and some sexual content (though no actual sex scenes)

From the Author
I have been a journalist for 15 years and serve on the Board of Directors for the Cape Cod Writers Center. I also drive a 16-ton school bus because I am ENTIRELY NUTS.
In addition to working jobs that should come with a warning label , I hold a BA in Psychos (Forensic Psych), torment the tourists about Jaws, and occasionally jump from the Town Neck bridge in an attempt to reclaim my youth.
I live on Cape Cod with two smallish humans who apparently are my kids, my fishing-obsessed husband, two canines (adept at both flatulence and snoring), and a cage-defiant lovebird that sleeps in a miniature tent. Nope - that's not a type-o. The bird is quite the indoor camper.

Enter the tour-wide giveaway for a chance to win some great prizes.


"The Devil and Sister Ford" by Lynda D. Brown

The Devil & Sister Ford
(Invisible Enemies Book 3)
by Lynda D. Brown

The Devil & Sister Ford is the third book in Lynda D. Brown's Invisible Enemies series. Also available: Invisible Enemies, and Seed of Satan: Leah’s Story.

The Devil & Sister Ford is currently on tour with Write Now Literary Virtual Book Tours. The tour stops here today for an excerpt. Please be sure to visit the other tour stops as well.

Chaos in the Kingdom of Darkness! Cecilia is thrilled when Reverend William Rawlins, her best friend and confidante finally proposes, however their joy is cut short when Satan finds out! He’s determined to destroy the powerful man and woman of God once and for all, before they get a chance to say, I do. As this thrilling, supernatural series comes to an end, Sister Cecilia Ford and Reverend William Rawlins find themselves in the ultimate battle between good vs. evil!

Book Series Video

William felt a presence in his bedroom. When he turned over, he saw a man sitting at the edge of his bed. “Hello William.” The man said softly. William sat up and rubbed his eyes. He reached over and grabbed his glasses from the nightstand and adjusted them on his face. “Is that you, Lord?” William asked with a yawn. Jesus grinned. “Yes. My son, I have heard the desires of your heart, even if you refuse to give voice to them. I know what you want and what you need, and I’m here tonight to bless you.” Jesus said softly. William was curious as to which unspoken request Jesus was referring to.
“It’s time for you to remarry son,” Jesus said quietly. “Marry?” William stammered in disbelief. Jesus laughed. “Why ya gotta say it like that? I know how much you miss being married, old friend. You’re still a young man, and I want to bless you with a son to carry on my legacy at Grace Faith.” Jesus calmly replied.
William leaped out of bed and stared at Jesus with horror. “A son, you mean like a baby? I’m way too old to be starting a new family with babies!” William retorted as he began to pace about his spacious bedroom. “I can’t believe this, a baby, of all things!” He was walking back and forth across the room so fast; Jesus became dizzy watching him.
“Calm down William, you’re only fifty-one years old. Abraham was nearly a hundred when I blessed him with Isaac, and Sarah was in her nineties, at least your Cecilia is only forty.” The Lord said with amusement. William choked. “My Cecilia?” He asked irritability. “Since when did she become my Cecilia?”
Jesus chuckled. “Um, all knowing, remember?” He said pointing to himself. William rolled his eyes and climbed back into bed. “I see you’re not in the mood to be serious tonight, so I’m going back to sleep,” William replied grumpily, as he punched his pillow, turned over and pretended to sleep.
Jesus stared at his stubborn, lonely, faithful son and sighed. William was acting was just like the Israelites who wanted to stay in the wilderness and mourn Moses’ death and not move forward to possess what He had for them. It was time for William to move forward and possess the things God had set aside for him and Cecilia. So with a heavy heart, Jesus waved his left hand over his son. “William.”
William stiffened when he heard her voice. No, it couldn’t be. He turned around and there she was sitting on lush green grass, surrounded by a group of small children. A cute little boy sat on her lap.
“Wanda,” he whispered quietly, as tears stung the back of his eyes. William glanced around and was shocked to see that he was no longer in his bedroom, but in Heaven. He looked at Jesus. “Please don’t do this to me; you’re not being fair...” He pleaded. Jesus looked at his faithful son. “I love you William, and it hurts me to see you lonely. It’s been almost twenty years son. It’s time for you to let Wanda go.” Jesus patted William’s arm and walked away.
William turned towards Wanda. She put the little boy down and walked towards her husband. She reached out and caressed his face. William was surprised he could actually feel her touch. She gently wiped away the tears on his cheeks. “Honey, the Lord is right, it’s time for you to let me go, and move on with your life. I’m so happy here William, I can’t wait to share this with you, but every day I watch you struggle between your growing feelings for Cecilia and your lingering feelings for me. Baby, I want you and Cecilia to be happy. She takes real good care of you, and our daughters love her. Cecilia also needs you, she’s been widowed for almost twenty years, and hasn’t been with another man since Jackson died.” Wanda said to her loving, but stubborn husband.
William just held his wife’s hand. He didn’t know what to say. He glanced over and saw a small bench that he could have sworn wasn’t there a minute ago! They walked over to it and sat down. “How can you ask me to be with another woman, when I still love you? He asked quietly.
Wanda reached out and smoothed her husband’s graying hair. “Because I’m up here sweetheart, and I can’t come back. William, you’re still a very attractive man, and you have needs that you have ignored for years. I love you and miss you too, but honey, I want you happy and whole. I know that Cecilia makes you happy and you make her happy. You two work so well together, and Grace Faith church is better and stronger because of you. We watch you all the time up here, cheering you on. We really enjoyed watching you defeat Satan and his demons when they tried to destroy Abby. I was so proud of how you taught the congregation about spiritual warfare, and how the church used that knowledge, and stood up to the demon that materialized at the Church. God is very pleased with you, William and so am I.”
William was astounded. “You really watch us up here?” He asked. Wanda nodded. “Oh yes, we can tune into what’s going on down on earth anytime. You should see Michael and the angels as they prepare for battle, when the saints on earth begin praying and asking God for help. Millions of them take flight and fly off to do battle for the Lord!” Wanda said with great enthusiasm.
William was blown away. “Wow, and you get to see this?” Wanda grinned and nodded. William shook his head. “Amazing. I can’t wait to get here and see it all myself.” He said wistfully. Wanda took his hand and looked him in the eye. “It’s not your time yet.” She said firmly. “You still have a mighty work to do for God. Earth is in its last days, and God is going to use you, and the members of Grace Faith to help the lost and unbelievers. You are living in what the bible calls perilous times, and as the situation on earth gets worse, people are going to be crying out to God, really seeking Him, and He knows that you and Cecilia will teach them how to rightly discern His word, so that many souls will be saved.” She told him breathlessly.
“Wanda, God wants me to marry Cecilia, and He wants to bless us with a son. Can you believe that?” William asked her. Wanda smiled brightly. “I know, and your son is going to be amazing.” She whispered. William’s mouth fell open. “You know?” Wanda nodded, and kissed him.
William closed his eyes, enjoying her sweet kiss. He wanted to ask her about meeting the saints in the Bible, but when he opened his eyes, he was shocked to find himself back in his own bed. Disappointed, but happy, he lay there thinking about what Wanda told him and then his thoughts drifting to his best friend, Cecilia Ford. A baby, Lord, what are you up to? He finally turned over and fell into a blissful sleep, dreaming of Cecilia and lots and lots of babies.
Jesus chuckled to himself as He left William’s house. William had been the apple of the His eye, since he was a little boy. The Lord had called William at an early age, and he enthusiastically responded. William began preaching at eighteen, following in the footsteps of his father, grandfather and great grandfather. He met Wanda Anderson at vacation bible camp when they were both sixteen. They fell in love that summer, and William knew, without any doubt, that she would eventually become his wife. Wanda’s father and both of her grandfathers were preachers, so being a pastor’s wife, was an easy transition. She had watched her mother and both grandmothers in that role.

Praise for the Book
"An absolutely perfect finish to one of the best trilogies I have ever read. The author got my full attention from the Prologue, and I couldn't put the book down until I finished reading it." ~ LH, 5-star review on Amazon
"I'm going to tell you now if you read the first two books I know you will love this one." ~ Peggy, 5-star review on Amazon
"A must read and definitely needed in this day and time." ~ Amazon Customer, 4-star review

About the Author
Ms. Brown is also the producer and host of The Author Chat Show on blogtalkradio and Google Hangouts on Air, where she assists other authors in promoting their books.


"The Casquette Girls" by Alys Arden

The Casquette Girls
(The Casquette Girls Book 1)
by Alys Arden

The Casquette Girls is the first book in Alys Arden's series of the same name. Also available: The Girl at the Gallows (novella on Wattpad). Coming soon: The Romeo Catchers.

This review opportunity and trailer reveal is brought to you by Xpresso Book Tours. Enjoy the trailer, some still shots, an excerpt, and my review.

Seven girls tied by time.
Five powers that bind.
One curse to lock the horror away.
One attic to keep the monsters at bay.
After the Storm of the Century rips apart New Orleans, Adele Le Moyne and her father are among the first to return to the city following the mandatory evacuation. Adele wants nothing more than for life to return to normal, but with the silent city resembling a mold-infested war zone, a parish-wide curfew, and mysterious new faces lurking in the abandoned French Quarter, normal will have to be redefined.
Events too unnatural – even for New Orleans – lead Adele to an attic that has been sealed for three hundred years, and the chaos she unleashes threatens not only her life but everyone she knows.
Caught suddenly in a hurricane of eighteenth-century myths and monsters, Adele must quickly untangle a web of magic that links the climbing murder rate back to her own ancestors. But who can you trust in a city where everyone has a secret, and where keeping them can be a matter of life and death – unless, that is, you’re immortal.

Book Trailer

The warm air lingered, and dampness wrapped around my skin as if we had entered a gym locker room. I flicked the light switch just to be certain. Nothing. We both reached for our phones. That feeling of peculiarity versus familiarity swept over me once again.
The total silence had crept into the house with us, but after sixteen years of hearing the pendulum swings of the old grandfather clock in the foyer, an impression of the sound was left burned in my mind. The phantom ticks became louder in my head as we crept through the foyer and into the living room. My father walked a few feet ahead of me with his makeshift flashlight thrust forward and his right arm extended over me in a protective stance. There had been countless reports of people breaking into homes and squatting in the less-flooded neighborhoods.
By the glow of our phones, nothing appeared to be out of place – not that either of us could remember exactly how we had left it.
No signs of water or mold. My father exhaled loudly.
“I’m going to get the hurricane box,” I said, already halfway through the dormant dining room when he yelled my name in protest. The thick, old walls muffled his voice.
Despite the long journey, I felt incredibly alert – my eyes darted back and forth like an animal’s as I surveyed each room – and, now that I was alone, I became very aware of the beating of my own heart. The deeper I moved into the house, the harder it pounded, until the beating reverberated in my ears.
When I entered the kitchen, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong. And yet everything seemed okay…
My hair lifted from my shoulders, sending waves of shivers down my back. A delicate touch brushed my neck.
“Who’s there?” My body twisted around, and I ducked away.
A slow creak answered.
I spun towards the noise, dropping my phone in the process. I bent to find it on the tile floor, and when I rose, my head collided with something soft but solid, nearly knocking me back down.
“What the—?”
My hair yanked backwards.
“Who’s there?” I yelled, thrashing my head.
I screamed in pain when something small and sharp pierced the skin at the base of my neck and clawed all the way up to my cheekbone.
High-pitched screams assaulted me. Blood smeared from my neck to my face as I covered my ears, screaming back. I continued to flail wildly in the dark – the intruder’s wings flapped frantically in my face.
“Dad! Kitchen!” My head jerked backwards again as my hair became entangled with the bird’s talons and ripped from my scalp.
“Get away!”
Each time its feathers touched my skin, a wave of shudders went down my spine, making my feet dance. My arms got scratched up shielding my face. I fell to my knees, ripping the last of my tangled hair free from the bird’s claws. Tears poured.
“Adele! Where are you?”
I crouched in a ball next to a cabinet as glassware began to fall from the counter and smash onto the tile floor around me.
“Down here!”
“What the hell?” he yelled over the ruckus, sliding onto the floor. “Are you okay?” He pulled me close.
His heart raced against his chest. In the illumination of his phone, I saw the crow’s giant black wings open and close, breaking everything they came into contact with.
He helped me up, then swiftly grabbed a broom from behind the refrigerator and shooed the trespasser out the kitchen door. I followed and slammed the door shut.
“Are you hurt?” He held the light of his phone up to my face. My hand and arm covered the wound, but his eyes still bulged, causing me to look down. Red covered most of my right shoulder. I wiped more blood off my face with the back of my other hand.
“It looks worse than it is,” I lied, my throat raw from screaming. The wound throbbed, but I kept it covered so he would calm down. “All of this over a bird?” I tried to joke, fighting the tears.
He still clutched the broom in one hand and his lit phone in the other. I don't know if it was the anxiety, the weariness, or just how ridiculous we both must have looked, but I started laughing, and soon he did too.
He put the broom down and wrapped his arms around me. “Home sweet home.”
“Never a dull moment.” My voice was muffled into his shoulder. I squirmed trying not to get blood on his shirt. “Wait a second.” I raised my head. “That door must have been open.”
“The kitchen door… I never opened it for the crow to fly out.”
He held his phone up to shine the light on the old brass doorknob. Someone had definitely smashed the lock to force the door open. He tapped the keypad on his phone three times and brought it to his ear.
“Dammit! No service.”
They had warned everyone not to come home yet…
He gave up on the call, went to the pantry, and lifted out a large cardboard box onto the kitchen counter. I didn’t need my phone light to know it was appropriately labeled “Hurricane Box” in my six-year-old scribble. On the side, written in a range of green Crayola to Sharpie, was a list of every hurricane it had been used in, along with the date. We were pretty diligent about keeping it fully stocked because we weren't the type who evacuated every time bad weather brewed in the Atlantic.
He pulled out a robust first-aid kit.
I nervously removed my sticky fingers from the wound.
“Dammit, Adele!”
“I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“Dad, there aren’t any hospitals.”
“Dammit.” He hesitated for a second before he managed his manly-dad-poker-face.
“Dad!” The tears began to well again.
“I’m sorry, baby, it’s not that bad. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he lied. “It’s just a lot of blood.”
He pressed the gauze against my face. “Damn bird.”
When the bleeding subsided, he spun the lid off the bottle of rubbing alcohol. My face scrunched at the chemical smell. “It’s gonna burn,” he said gently and poured a generous stream of the clear liquid down my face and neck.
My limbs twisted into each other. I tried not to yelp as the solvent spidered into the wound, burning like fire. He covered the clean wound with new gauze and pressed my hand over it.
“Stay here, and I’ll check out the rest of the house.”
“No, I want to see!”
“Okay, but just stay put for two minutes. Keep applying pressure. I’ll be right back. I promise.”
Something about his exit made me suspicious. I attached the gauze to my skin with some medical tape and dug through the remaining contents of the supply box: a transistor radio, an assortment of nonperishable food items, various kinds of batteries. Voilà. Two flashlights. I flicked them on and off to test the batteries.
When he returned, the beams of light revealed a small black object in his hand. I did a double-take. “What is that?” I exclaimed in a loud whisper. “You own a gun? Do you even know how to use that thing?”
“Calm down, sweetheart. It was Grandpa’s, and it’s always been locked up in the safe.” He seemed oddly at ease holding the weapon, as if it was something he used on a daily basis. Who is this guy? I gently placed the second flashlight into his free hand. And what else had Grandpa locked up?
Let’s go,” I said and filed behind him.
He led the way back down the hall and into his bedroom, waving his light around to check out the state of his things. I continued to the rear of the room and opened the large pocket doors that separated his bedroom from his studio.
My brain refused to register what I saw in front of me. I hastily moved my flashlight from one thing to the next.
“I'm so sorry, Dad.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
He rushed over, slid the wooden doors completely open, and stepped into the workspace.
“Stay here.”
Most of my father's life work was in total disarray, strewn about the large, open room. I focused my light on the rear wall and gasped. My flashlight was shining straight into the back courtyard – a humungous Greek-revival-style column from a neighboring house had smashed through the exterior brick wall and created a gaping hole at least seven feet tall and ten feet wide. Does it still constitute as a hole if a giant could walk through it? Wind, rain, and Lord knows what else had poured in. I thought of the crow as I slowly approached the gap, and wondered if there were any other animals lurking in the house.
“Adele, stay back. There might be structural damage.”
Backing away from the hole, I picked up two unstretched canvases and tried to separate them, but they had fused upon drying. I put them down to avoid any further damage.
“Come on, Dad, there isn't much we can do tonight.” My hand rested on his shoulder as I pulled him away from the acetylene tank he was examining. “We'll get a better look in the morning.”
We did a quick run-through of the rest of the house and ended back in the kitchen. To our relief, everything else appeared unscathed.
“No crows, squatters, gaping holes or pools of standing water,” my father said, dodging broken glass on the floor as he brought a chair to the kitchen door. He jammed it under the broken knob, securing the door for the evening. “Anything else can wait until the morning as far as I am concerned. Can you get through the night without electricity? I can set up the generator in the morning.”
I nodded with a jet-lag-induced yawn. “Definitely.” It was only 8:30 p.m. (3:30 a.m. Paris time), but I was so tired I could have slept through another hurricane.
I agreed to sleep in the living room to appease my father’s fear that the back of the house might have structural damage, although I'm not sure it would have made a difference where we slept if the house did cave in. I didn’t mind, though – after the crow incident, I was still kind of spooked. Not that I would have admitted it.
By the time I got back from a bottled-water toothbrushing, my father was snoring on the love seat. I sniffed an old afghan; when the smell didn't make me scowl, I pulled it over him.
Lying in a heap of blankets and cushions on the floor, I felt better than I had in weeks. Just being home brought on a small smile. Although it quickly faded when I thought about Dad's studio. His schedule was erratic because of the bar, so it was hard for him to meet people outside of the nightlife, who he tried to avoid since he was solely responsible for me. The only thing that truly seemed to make him happy was his art.
Why couldn’t that column have fallen into any other room in the house? Even my own bedroom would have been better. I wondered if any of his paintings or charcoals had survived. A sinking feeling inside told me, unlikely. At least his main medium was metal…
I pulled out my phone and hoped a quick text to Brooke would go through.
Adele 8:57 p.m Made it home. Able to sleep in the house. Full report tomorrow. xo.
I was out cold before she had a chance to respond.

Praise for the Book
"In this Southern Gothic love letter to the spookier side of New Orleans's storied past, Arden spins out a moody tale of magic and mystery... a thoroughly satisfying page-turner and a strong debut." ~ Publisher's Weekly Starred Review
"Debut author Arden offers readers a full plate of Southern gothic atmospherics and sparkling teen romance in a patiently crafted tale that will best reward careful readers ... Satisfying teen entertainment but also a cathartic, uncompromising tribute to New Orleans." ~ Kirkus Reviews
"In the way that it fuses the experience of adolescence, the city of New Orleans, history, magic and vampires, The Casquette Girls can't help but be a fun adventure, but more than that, it's a smart story with a surprising amount of emotional depth." ~ IndieReader
"A story that's more intricately woven than your typical supernatural release." ~ Rue Morgue Magazine
"The Casquette Girls is a novel that once I started, I could not put down ... the perfect blend of romance and mystery and not your typical paranormal teem romance." ~ The Paranormal Romance Guild
"The Casquette Girls by Alys Arden is eerie, magical and gritty, getting into the grimy seams of New Orleans in the tradition of Anne Rice or Poppy Z Brite." ~ SP Reviews

My Review

By Lynda Dickson
Sixteen-year-old Adele and her father return home to New Orleans after being evacuated due to the "big Storm". Adele is hoping for things to return to normal but her school is still closed, the local businesses are struggling to recover, and there has been a spate of recent murders. When Adele begins to exhibit some unusual powers, she unwittingly sets into motion a chain of events that began hundreds of years ago. Meanwhile, Adele has to fend off a host of admirers, including her mother's assistant Emile, the Italian Medici brothers Niccolo and Gabe, and the strange boy Isaac who appears to have powers of his own. With the help of some new-found friends, will Adele be able to set things right in her beloved city?
The author manages to transport us to New Orleans; she has an incredible knack for describing the scenes and setting the atmosphere. The story is fresh and original, and the author debunks many of our long-held vampire beliefs. With a cast of characters spanning centuries, The Casquette Girls is full of twists and turns and shocking revelations; you never know what is going to happen next. I especially enjoyed the diary entries of Adele's ancestor, Adeline Saint-Germain While this story is complete, we will see a return of these characters in The Romeo Catchers.

About the Author
Alys Arden grew up in the Vieux Carré, cut her teeth on the streets of New York, and has worked all around the world since. She still plans to run away with the circus one day

Enter the Goodreads giveaway for a chance to win a signed paperback copy of The Casquette Girls by Alys Arden (closes 18 November).