23 June 2017

Anai Greog Art

Some beautiful and colourful creations by the artist Anai Greog.




The Good Daughter by Karin Slaughter

The Good Daughter by Karin Slaughter
Genre: Psychological Thriller
Source: NetGalley
Rating: 5/5



Growing without a mother has to be one of the most difficult things a child has to accept, but if you saw her killed and how your big sister was shoot, the nightmares will hunt you all of your life.
This is the story of Charlotte and Samantha, how their life changed a long time ago...

I loved this book, I would give it a ten, it's a must read, hunting, heartbreaking and dark!
Charlotte's story is not easy to forget, talk or think, her life changed in just one day, but it's time to accept the past and start living again... thanks to some horrible actions she will be reunited to her family and maybe start healing some wounds... is she ready?
I am not sure which situation Charlotte has lived is worst, her mother killed or the shooting at the school, both horrible and scary, no one wants to be on any of them, imagine living and surviving both! It surprised me how the police acted on both situations; striking suspects, coercing victims... they didn't want to try to find the truth and what you see it's not always the truth! I know Charlotte father is not quite loved for any of the police members, but you should always be respectful, don't you think?
It was funny all the information the characters drop about science, there are some surprising facts that I loved to learn! 
I liked very much this book and I think it's one of my favourite from Karin Slaugher, it's not from any series, you could feel the emotions on your skin, the pain and nightmares like they are your own, not just a story from a book.
One of the things that shocked me most of the book was when Charlotte tells her sister "I don't feel guilty because I ran away, I feel guilty because I couldn't run faster." I think this sentence will stay with me for a long time, it says so many things in just a few words... sadness, lost hopes, nightmares... 
Are you a good daughter?

20 June 2017

Angular Geometry of Tyler Haywood

Some mesmerising geometry that will keep you hypnotised for a while by Tyler Haywood.




The Things We Thought We Knew by Mahsuda Snaith - Blog Tour


The Things We Thought We Knew by Mahsuda Snaith
Genre: Fiction
Source: Transworld Books

Ravine has spend her last 10 years of her life in bed suffering chronic pain syndrome, since the day her friend Marianne disappeared... 

Since the beginning you feel there's something about Ravine's friend disappearance that we don't know, a mystery that keep you glued to the pages of this book and needing to know more, and the big question, does it have anything to do with Ravine's illness?  
I loved the intersperse stories between the present and Ravine's childhood, so sweet and tender, that make you remember your own dreams and experiences when you were 8 years old. 
My favourite character was Ravine's mother, Amma, her love for her daughter is so big, she will stop all of her life just to be near her daughter and support her, and at the same time she is strong and has enough confidence in her daughter hoping that everything will get better, even if her life has never been easy...
This is not the type of books I normally read, but I loved how Mahsuda Snaith has created a heartwarming story with real-life characters and with a multicultural environment. Be prepared to fall in love with this book.
Do you remember any childhood memory that marked your life?

19 June 2017

Paw Crew Socks

Are you a cat lover and you want to have some cute socks?
Take a look at these super realistic socks, your feet will be like your favourite animal paw!
You can buy it at What On Earth.





The source is My Bored Panda.

Postal Protest

I have to admit I never thought of putting a stamp on my letters to make a protest, but I find it original and the best way to arrive everywhere. This stamps are a political protest, but the idea is great!
You can buy these "stamps" at Postal Protest.


18 June 2017

Feline Bakery by qrtrs

A delicious Feline Bakery created by Courtney (qrtrs) enjoy!



Sugarbird x Disney

Are you searching for some original clothes for this Summer with a Disney design?
Take a look at the Sugarbird x Disney Collaboration, you will fall in love with all the pieces!





17 June 2017

Walking Your Octopus by Brian Kesinger

I haven't had the pleasure to meet Victoria and Otto before, but I love their stories created by the artist Brian Kesinger. There are a few books to read, paint or dress, take a look at these funny and cute characters, you will love them! ;)





Exquisite by Sarah Stovell

Exquisite by Sarah Stovell
Genre: Psychological Thriller
Source: Orenda Books
Rating: 4/5


"'My own mother is a nightmare - possibly not as big nightmare as yours, but a nightmare nonetheless - and I used to worry that I'd be like her. But I've learnt you don't have to be: the future isn't written in stone because of your past. You can change it. You will change it. You can be the mother you wanted for yourself.'"

Not all the love stories have a beautiful ending, that's what we will learn with this tragic story between Bo and Alice. Which is the line between love and obsession? Sometimes this line is blurred and we don't know how to turn back, or maybe we don't want to?
This book talks about obsession, love, lust and suffering; how your childhood, good or bad can influence on your decisions, but never, never, can be the excuse to your behaviour, you always have the chance to decide what you really want. Your past could be your defence, but it's never the real reason of your actions!
Exquisite is not just a story, it has so many sub-plots that at the end you will want to re-read the book to catch and understand everything.
Exquisite is the word I would use to describe this psychological thriller, in which via a beautiful prose we become captivated with these two characters, teacher and alumni, lovers... that on the end they are simply human and just want and need to be loved.
I would love to read more about Alice and Bo's story, will their paths cross again? Will they ever be able to be friends? So many questions but no answers...
Take a breath and start reading Exquisite, it will surprise you!
Have you ever dreamed being a writer?

16 June 2017

40 Night Monsters and Where To Find Them by Sleep Matters Club

Ready for a scary night?
Take a look at these 40 Night Monsters and where to find them infographic!


The source is Sleep Matters Club.

Treble At The Jam Fest by Leslie Budewitz - Great Escape Blog Tour + Giveaway!


Treble At The Jam Fest by Leslie Budewitz 
Genre: Cozy Mystery
Source: Great Escapes


A murder during a Jazz Festival is not the best way to start a festivity, but don't worry, Erin Murphy 's second job is being an amateur sleuth and will help the police to discover the killer!
I always enjoy reading the stories of the characters in a little village, makes the book more approachable and real, but it seems that these type of communities are prone to have a lot of killers! Lucky for us, we have a bold heroine ready to catch all of them! ;)
This is the fourth book of the Food Lover's Village Mystery, you can read as standalone and the little resumé in the beginning is really helpful, with all the characters and some information about them.
This is one of those books that you will love the characters and you will keep guessing the killer till the end.
With some delicious recipes, good music and a good mystery, Leslie Budewitz has created a quick read and tasty mystery.
Ready for all that Jazz?

Interested? Good luck in the Giveaway!
a Rafflecopter giveaway

15 June 2017

Vacations can be a lottery - Visa Advert

I have to admit this Visa advert is hilarious and so true! Take a look, because, vacations can be a lottery! ;)




Credits:
Advertising Agency: Impact BBDO, Dubai, United Arab Emirates
Executive Creative Director: Fadi Yaish
Art Director: Luiz Guimaraes
Copywriter: Eduardo Balloussier
Supplier: Illusion

The source is Ads of the World.

What Happened That Night by Sheila O'Flanagan - Blog Tour


What Happened That Night by Sheila O'Flanagan
Genre: Family, Romance, Fiction
Source: Headline
Rating: 5/5


One night the life of Lola Fitzpatrick changes completely after meeting a man, the man of her life? Maybe... the only important thing is that her and her daughter's life will go around that night for a long time... ready?

This is a book about dreams, disappointment, love and the most important thing, family. I enjoyed every page of this book, the happiness, the sadness and joy, of course, it was written so smooth that I was turning pages without even noticing it!
The story of Lola and Bey is powerful, how they stand in their life and asking for the respect they deserve for being a woman, fighting for their dreams and a little place in the world they are living. Bey had two families, the sweet one, for her mother's side and the harmful one, her father's side... she will have to accept both of them, but they will have to understand that a wrong from the past doesn't mean a fault in the future... we'll see if they learn the lesson!
I loved how in every chapter there's a little description of a gemstone, something simple but easy for us to understand the meaning. It was original and perfect for the book. I was fascinated with this book, I had a difficult childhood with the family and I love gems and jewellery, so I felt completely identified with Bey's story and situation!
This is an exquisite book, everyone who loves a family story will love this book, but if not, I highly recommend you to try it, it's worth the read!
Ready to change your life?

Here's the first chapter, I am sure it will captivate you! ;)

Lola Fitzpatrick always had a choice to make on Friday afternoons: to stay for the weekend in the flat she shared with three other girls in Dublin, or to spend the days at the family farm instead. Left to her own devices, the choice was simple.
Dublin was far more exciting and vibrant than a weekend at the farm could ever be, and at least one of her flatmates was sure to be around and ready to socialise. On the other hand, Cloghdrom was home. But returning there was like taking a step back in time. Socialising was limited to drinks in one
of the local pubs (excluding McCloskey’s, which was only ever frequented by elderly farmers), or enduring what was still called a ‘hop’ at the GAA clubhouse – scratched records played beneath a disco ball by Baz Hogan, who fancied himself as a DJ. From Lola’s point of view, Cloghdrom hadn’t
even made it out of the 1950s, let alone reached the 80s; the general assumption of the inhabitants was that their sons would inherit the farm while their daughters would marry other farmers.
‘It’s like Pride and Prejudice without the gorgeousness of Pemberley,’ she complained to her older sister Gretta. ‘The men get the assets and we wait to be married off.’
Gretta laughed at her mutinous tones and told her that marrying a local lad wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. She had to say that, Lola would reply; hadn’t she been engaged to Mossy McCloskey (eldest son of the pub owner) practically since the day she’d left school? Which was fine for Gretta, who loved being part of the community and who never wanted to leave. Fine, too, for their older brother Milo, who was already married and working on the farm. But not fine for her, the youngest daughter, whose ambitions were very different, despite the fact that she could break a man’s heart with a single glance from her vivid blue eyes and a toss of her luxurious dark hair.
Getting the job at the Passport Office in Dublin and moving into a flat with three other girls had been the start of a life that didn’t depend on the weather and milk quotas and the happiness of the herd. It was a life where her opinion mattered, and having a drink with someone of the opposite sex didn’t have everyone talking about their upcoming nuptials five minutes later. She hated having to interrupt it to go back to the old one, no matter that she did sometimes miss her family and the constant aroma of her mother’s home-made bread wafting around the kitchen.
She was thinking about Eilis’s home-made bread as she walked down Grafton Street during her lunch hour that warm Friday afternoon. She knew there was very little food in the flat – shopping was done on a need-to-get basis, and most times the girls raided the kitty and nipped out to the Spar around the corner for essentials. Lola herself had eaten out every night that week, although that was giving it a gloss it didn’t deserve, she acknowledged; most times she’d just gone for pizza after a few drinks with the people from work. But she liked making plans at the last minute and having the kind of options that living in a city offered, even if she was pretty much broke after every weekend.
If nothing else, going home would save her a few bob and  she could afford the dress she’d seen in Dunnes earlier, she mused as she strolled along Duke Lane. Though not being able to afford a dress in an inexpensive chain store said a lot about her current financial state. She knew she needed to cut back a little. She knew she was living beyond her means.
But it was hard not to when her salary was basic and opportunities for fun were constantly knocking on her door. It would be different when she got promoted. She’d have money to spare then. Meantime, she was keeping her fingers crossed that her application for the next grade up in the Civil Service would be successful. Despite her love of late nights, she was a conscientious worker, and she felt she deserved her promotion. She’d been a clerical officer in the Passport Office for nearly four years. It was about time she started moving up the career ladder.
She stopped suddenly, her thoughts interrupted as her attention was caught by the sparkling diamonds in the window of Warren’s the Jewellers. Warren’s was an iconic store in Dublin and Lola knew a little of its history. It had been founded in the 1950s by Richard Warren, a watchmaker who realised that Dubliners wanted more than just utilitarian timepieces. He’d expanded to include jewellery that wasn’t generally available in the city at the time, and established a reputation for good quality at reasonable prices. Over the years, and after his marriage to a Northern Irish beauty named Adele Pendleton, the store had gone increasingly upmarket, until it relocated from its original premises near O’Connell Street to the current shop off Dublin’s most exclusive shopping street. Although Warren’s carried a variety of jewellery, it was most famous for the Adele collections, each named for a flower as well as for the founder’s wife.
Lola gazed at the glitter of the all-diamond Snowdrops and wondered if she’d ever be able to afford anything as remotely beautiful as an Adele piece. Even in Cloghdrom they’d heard of Warren’s – Betty Munroe, the wife of the creamery owner, had an entire Adele Rose set, which she wore to the farm festival every year. ‘The money’s in processing, not producing,’ Lola had heard her father mutter to her mother during the last festival she’d gone to. ‘I can’t afford to buy anything like that for you.’
His words had stuck in Lola’s mind and had influenced her decision to move to Dublin. She wanted to be the woman who owned beautiful jewellery, not the woman who stared at it from afar. And she wanted to be the woman who could buy it for herself, not someone who had to rely on a boyfriend or husband to give it to her. Every so often she would deliberately walk past Warren’s so that she could look in the window and remind herself why she was here. To make money. To be a success. To prove that a woman didn’t have to be married to have a good life. To be herself.
‘Why don’t you try it on?’
She jumped as she heard the voice behind her. A man had approached the shop from the other end of the lane and was now standing at the recessed doorway. He was tall, tanned and fair haired, and his electric-blue eyes were filled with humour.
‘It would be lovely,’ she said, ‘but a waste of time. There isn’t a hope in hell I could ever afford it.’
‘No charge for trying, though,’ he said.
‘I doubt the owners would be happy with people loading themselves up with their jewellery just for the fun of it.’
‘I’m sure the owners would be delighted to see one of their creations on someone as beautiful as you.’
Lola looked at him in surprise. No man had ever complimented her in quite that way before. The nearest a man in Cloghdrom had come to acknowledging her looks was to tell her she was a bit of all right. As for Dublin, most of the so-called compliments she’d received in the last few years centred around wondering if she was as good in bed as she looked out of it.
‘Honestly,’ he said. ‘That set would look stunning on you.’
‘It’d be false pretences.’ She gave him a rueful smile. ‘I’m so broke right now, a bread roll is the absolute limit of my budget.’
He laughed. ‘The bread roll situation is one thing, certainly. Maybe we can deal with that separately. But the problem with fine jewellery is that often the most beautiful women can’t afford it. So it’s hanging around the crêpey necks of older women who can. And not that they don’t look great, but they couldn’t hold a candle to you.’
‘All the same,’ she said, still taken aback by his confident appraisal of her looks, ‘I won’t go in.’
‘Pity. I would’ve liked to have seen it on you. I’m sure my dad would too.’
She looked at him in confusion.
‘I’m Philip Warren,’ he said.
She looked at the name above the shop before turning back to him.
‘You own it?’ she gasped.
‘Not personally,’ he clarified. ‘It’s our family business, but it’ll be mine one day.’
‘Wow,’ she said.
‘So it would be really cool if you came in and tried on the set.’
She hesitated.
‘Take a chance?’
It was those words that decided her. She believed in taking chances. She’d said so to her parents the day she’d left Cloghdrom. She nodded and followed him inside. The shop was more opulent than she could have imagined. The pile of the mink-coloured carpet was so deep that she was afraid her high-heeled shoes would ruin it, and she walked cautiously after him, conscious of the indentations she was leaving in her wake. Instead of long counters, there was a polished walnut desk in one corner, in front of which were placed two chairs upholstered in purple velvet. There were three glass displays on the floor of the store, as well as others in the window.
A tall, elegant woman wearing a ruby pendant and an Adele Rose ring nodded at Philip, who smiled at her.
‘Hi, Lorraine. Is Dad in the office?’
She shook her head. ‘He’s still at lunch with Arjan van Heerden,’ she said.
‘Has he bought the stones?’ asked Philip.
‘And how would I know that?’ asked Lorraine. ‘He doesn’t tell me the backroom business. I’m merely the sales assistant.’
Philip laughed. ‘Oh, Lorraine! You know we couldn’t even open the door to the shop without you. It’s a pity he isn’t here,’ he added. ‘I wanted him to see the Snowdrop range on . . .’ He turned to Lola. ‘I’m so sorry. I was too dazzled by you to ask your name.’
‘Lola,’ she said. ‘Lola Fitzpatrick.’
‘I wanted Dad to see Lola modelling the Snowdrop,’ he said. ‘Don’t you think it would look gorgeous on her?’
Lorraine looked at Lola critically, dismissing her inexpensive trousers and blouse but taking in her flawless complexion, her dark curls and her deep-blue eyes.
‘Yes.’ She nodded. ‘It would suit her very well.’
‘So let’s have a look.’
‘I’m not sure . . .’ Lola was aching to try on the Snowdrop set, but she felt completely out of her depth.
‘You’ll love it,’ Philip assured her.
Lorraine took the jewellery from the window display. Then she approached Lola and fastened the diamond necklace around her neck, taking time to arrange it exactly. She did the same with the bracelet on her wrist. Finally she slid the Adele Snowdrop ring onto the third finger of her right hand
and stood back to admire her handiwork.
‘Stunning,’ said Philip.
‘Amazing,’ agreed Lorraine.
Lola turned to look at herself in the mirror. The girl who looked back at her was a different Lola. The flashing brilliance of the diamonds made her skin seem smoother, her hair darker, her eyes a more vibrant blue. She was the Lola Fitzpatrick she had always wanted to be. The Lola Fitzpatrick who deserved chances and who would grab those chances with both hands. She felt a wave of confidence engulf her as she moved and sparkled beneath the halogen lights.
‘Didn’t I tell you?’ Philip looked at Lorraine in satisfaction.
‘She’s a Warren’s girl, that’s for sure.’
‘You have your father’s eye,’ said Lorraine.
‘She’s the kind of girl we want buying our jewellery,’ Philip said. ‘Young and beautiful and . . . and modern.’
Lorraine, who was in her forties, raised one of her delicately shaped eyebrows.
‘Of course you’re modern too,’ said Philip quickly. ‘But you’re different, Lorraine. You’re a grown-up. Lola is . . .’
‘Young,’ echoed Lorraine.
‘Exactly. And she’s the person we want to be selling to.’
‘Maybe I am.’ Lola finally looked away from her reflection. ‘And maybe I can be a customer one day. But right now I couldn’t even afford the clasp of the necklace, let alone the whole thing.’ She sighed as she slipped the ring from her finger and placed it on one of the glass displays while Lorraine undid the necklace and bracelet. ‘Thank you for letting me try them on. It was amazing. But I’d better be going.’
‘You can’t rush away,’ said Philip. ‘We haven’t discussed your bread roll yet.’
‘I’m due back at work.’ Lola looked at her watch and gave a little shriek. ‘In exactly two minutes. I’ve got to go.’ She hurried to the door and opened it.
‘Wait!’ called Philip. ‘Where do you work? Will I see you again?’
But Lola didn’t answer. She was already running up the road.
She clattered into the office and looked around anxiously for Irene, the staff officer generally known as Dot because of her complete lack of interest in any excuses for lateness and insistence that all staff were at their desks on the dot.
‘She was asking for you a minute ago.’ Pat Burke looked up from the passport she was working on. ‘I told her you were dealing with someone from the general public.’
‘Did she believe you?’ Lola was still anxious.
‘Of course,’ said Pat.
Lola smiled. Pat was one of the clerical assistants who worked on temporary contracts with the Passport Office to cover the busy summer period. She’d started working there after the death of her husband a few years previously, and although she was still on a temporary contract, she worked
eight months of the year and was far more experienced than Irene or Lola. Being older than most of the staff, Pat wasn’t intimidated by Irene, and as she knew more about the running of the office than the more senior woman did, Irene relied on her whenever there were problems. Pat, who privately thought that Lola was one of the hardest-working people there, was also very supportive of her because she never tried to take advantage of her temporary status as some of the other girls sometimes did.
‘Where were you?’ she asked. ‘You’re never late.’
Lola sat down at her desk and picked up one of the passport application forms so that she’d appear busy when Irene returned. But she smiled at Pat as she related her lunchtime experience.
‘Warren’s!’ Pat was impressed. ‘I’ve always wanted a piece of jewellery from there. I love those Adele rings.’
‘The Snowdrop was utterly gorgeous,’ said Lola. ‘The minute I put it on I felt like I could do anything. It was amazing.’
Pat stretched her hands out in front of her. Her significantly more modest engagement ring twinkled in the light.
‘My husband always said that he’d get me one for our silver wedding anniversary,’ she said. ‘It would have been next year.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Lola. ‘I shouldn’t have . . .’
‘Oh, don’t be.’ Pat shook her head. ‘He’d never have been able to afford it either. Those rings are seriously expensive.’
‘I know. There were no prices.’
‘So are you going to see him again?’ asked Pat. ‘Or was this just a business thing?’
‘It was the weirdest experience of my life,’ said Lola. ‘And the only way I’d ever see him again is by standing outside Warren’s looking hopeful. Which, quite honestly, would be a kind of creepy thing to do.’ And then, as she saw Irene walking into the office, she bent her head over the application form and said no more about it.

14 June 2017

Fierce Kingdom by Gin Phillips - Blog Tour

I am lucky to participate in the Fierce Kingdom Blog Tour, I loved the book, so it's a pleasure to have a little text written by Gin Phillips, the author!


A Different Kind of Geography

I’m in London for what I believe is my seventh time. There is a particular joy to revisiting a place, to having the layers of previous years and previous selves.
          London was my first trip overseas. I’d won an essay contest, so I was travelling with 100 other high school students, all in matching red jackets. Luckily I had travelled so little that I was unaware this was not the coolest way to explore a city.
            Now whenever I walk past Madame Tussaud’s I remember standing in that long line of red jackets, and I remember the pleasure our tour guide felt in cutting in front of a similarly long line of French high schoolers. I remember my trip to London after college where I saw my first West End play—before I’d ever seen anything on Broadway—and I remember trying my first Indian food. I remember sipping an Orangina at a barbecue, and a girl told me I looked like Scully on the X-Files. Later she asked me if I’d consider kissing a girl, and while I did not have any interest in girls, I was also aware that this might be my only chance to kiss someone who thought I looked like Gillian Anderson.
            I grew older. By my next trip, I had mastered the Underground and felt great pleasure at that. Later I came back with my husband, and we ate the most delicious waffle and ice cream I have ever tasted, and our fingers were sticky and our feet were aching.
            And so I love the layers of travelling. But I’ve found that, since having a child, there can be those same layers when I stay at home. In Birmingham, Al., where I live, there are a handful of places where my son and I go every week or every month.
            One of those places is the zoo. These days we walk through it, and somehow my son has become a tall five-year-old holding my hand, and as we move through the exhibits, around every corner is some reminder of an old version of him. For a long time he made up his own words and hand signs for thing—we’d stand by the flamingos, and he’d lift one arm above his hand and bend his wrist, and that was the sign for flamingo. For a while, the flamingos were our first stop. When we pass them now, I can almost feel the weight of him on my arm.
            At some stage after that, the carousel became his first choice, although he would only ride the zebra. That was until a zoo employee told him that the animals came to life at night, and after that pronouncement…no more carousel.
            I remember when we played knights and sieges on the bridge of the playground—was he three? On that same playground, there was a giant fake spiderweb, and we left behind the bridge to play Spiderman instead—he had definitely turned four by then.
            And so I walk through the zoo, and it is both intensely familiar and always slightly foreign. It’s not the place that’s changed, of course. It’s the boy holding my hand. The memories rise up, and there is such a pleasure in revisiting him.


And here is my review...

Imagine that spending a day with your son in the zoo, at the path to the exit, you find out that there are gunmen shooting at people trying to leave. You have to choose between run and hide or try to escape... What will you choose?
This is the most terrifying book I have ever read. Not just because you can feel the fear on your skin but because this is a situation I could see myself in. 
This is a book that will put your emotions running high, and you will fear the inevitable ending, will Joan and Lincoln see another day? 
Joan knows that she has to find a good hidden place for Lincoln and her, to wait till the police arrives and catches the gunmen. But, how long they will have to hide? A little boy can't stay quiet for long and needs to eat and do his necessities, will they be able to stay quiet till the cavalry arrives? These are just some of the questions that pop in our mind when we start reading the book, and of course who are the gunmen and what they want. 
I can understand Joan fear, the need to protect her little one even if it means risking her own life, I almost could feel the sounds of the animals and the cold sweat on my skin! I couldn't stop closing the book when the tension moments where too high, like when you close your eyes in a horror movie, sadly this book was so authentic that it was much more scaring!
This is one of the best books I ever read, the theme was completely different to the ones I usually read, but most touchable and frightening than any book I had ever in my hands.
Are you planing a visit to the zoo soon?

The Accidental Honeymoon by Portia MacIntosh - Love Reading Romance Blog Tour


The Accidental Honeymoon by Portia MacIntosh
Genre: Chic Lit, Romance
Rating: 4/5


Georgie decides to recover from her fiasco fiancée's unfaith scene in a crazy night at Vegas... when she wakes up, she discovers that is married to the handsome Jake and he is willing to be her wedding partner in her cousin's wedding... What could go wrong?

This is a funny love story, where everything that could go wrong will go worst!
Georgie has a very sweet family, her relation with her parents and brothers puts tenderness to this story, because the future bride (Georgie cousin) and her mother are a nightmare! They have some kind of stupid rivalry, but it will make the most funny scenes on the book. Just imagine a 50 something stripper to a young bride hen party, the faces had to be hilarious! 
Georgie and Jake relation is sweet and hot at the same time, they don't know each other but they will try to figure out if the sparks between them are worth the sacrifice to fight for love.
I would like to think that even if the person you love most brakes your trust, you will be able to love and trust again, not easy, but that's what Georgie will have to do in this book. Yes, there are a lot of hilarious situations involving Georgie and alcohol, but this doesn't mean that her heart is not broken and she doesn't know if she will be able to trust again...
The Accidental Honeymoon is a chic lit romance with a big heart and a lot of humour, it will make you laugh and be a little sad, but the most important is that it will make you believe in love.
Ready for the perfect wedding?

Enjoy the excerpt! ;)

‘What have you got in here, a body?’ the hotel porter asks as he places my suitcase on the floor.
‘Ha, ha, ha,’ I laugh politely, but the worried look on his face suggests he would actually like an explanation.
‘I did a bit of last-minute holiday shopping on my way here,’ I tell him. Well, what I actually did was buy myself the best part of a whole new wardrobe. In an inexplicable moment of madness I bought everything I could get my hands on that was distinctly ‘not me’. I left home for my trip without the suitcase I’d already packed with my usual, demure, conservative clothing. Instead, I bought a new one and overstuffed it with short, low, brightly coloured, cheaply made alternatives.
‘Good for you,’ he replies. ‘I thought maybe your fiancé was in there.’
‘Ha, ha, ha,’ I laugh again, this time a little more genuinely as I fantasise about John being stuffed in a suitcase.
‘So, let me show you around the room.’
I glance around my corner suite at the Black Diamond Hotel. It’s still daylight, but even so, the view is amazing. The first thing I do is head towards the window to take it all in.
‘First time in Vegas?’ the porter asks.
I nod my head.
‘I figured so when I heard your accent. Well, you’re in for a treat when it gets dark. This is one of our best rooms for admiring the view. This over here is your bathroom.’
The porter gestures towards a door. I pop my head inside. Both the floor and wall tiles are black, flecked with colourful sparkles that twinkle the second he flicks the light on. There’s a huge rainfall shower and an even bigger bath. Even the toilet is fancy with its silver mosaic finish, resembling a disco ball.
‘It’s very nice,’ I tell him.
‘And back in the bedroom, the mini bar and safe are down here.’ He gestures to a cupboard. ‘And the TV is inside this cabinet.’
‘Awesome,’ I reply, struggling to hide my indifference.
‘And here is your bed, obviously. It’s a super king, with Egyptian cotton sheets. The rose petals were a request by your fiancé – you’re a very lucky lady.’
I smile as I reach for my purse to tip the porter.
‘Thank you for all your help,’ I tell him, handing him some money.
The porter takes it and thanks me, but he doesn’t leave the room. Instead, he hovers in the doorway.
‘Is everything OK with your room, Miss… er…?’ he asks.
‘Georgie,’ I reply. ‘And it’s great. Thank you.’
Still, the porter lingers.
‘It’s just… you don’t seem very happy with it,’ he persists.
‘Honestly, the room is perfect.’
He furrows his brow, unconvinced.
‘Well, OK then.’
‘OK then,’ I echo.
I force a smile, holding it only as long as it takes the porter to close the door behind him. Finally alone, I crouch down on the floor next to the inviting-looking bed and start picking up the pink and red rose petals that have been scattered around the room. I place the ones from the floor on top of the bed before scooping them all up together. I glance around for a wastepaper bin, but it turns out that’s the only thing this room doesn’t seem to have. There isn’t a bin in the fancy bathroom either. I just need these rose petals out of here. The sparkly toilet literally catches my eye, so I dump the petals inside and flush. I’m walking out of the bathroom when the sound of the toilet spluttering catches my ear. I glance back at it and realise I’ve blocked it, the water having risen all the way to the top. Brilliant, wonderful, marvellous. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse.
I massage my temples for a moment, wracking my brains for a solution. I am a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a man. Glancing into the toilet, full to the seat with water, completely out of my depth, I realise I might not need a man, but I definitely need a plumber, and it could well be a bloke. First, though, I need a drink.
Seeing as I’ll be spending the entire evening in here alone, I may as well pillage the mini bar. I grab all of the tiny bottles of booze and line them up on the desk in front of me.
I tap a finger on the bottles one at a time, trying to figure out which one to have first. I land on a miniature bottle of gin, remove the lid and toss the contents down the hatch. ‘Argh!’ I say out loud. I’m not usually one for drinking spirits neat.
I cast an eye over the snacks in the mini bar, umming and aahing over whether to eat the honey-roasted nuts, the vegetables chips or one of the many bars of chocolate. I shrug my shoulders, grab them all and dump them down on the bed, but as I go back for the tiny bottles of booze, I notice something else in the mini bar. I take the can from the inside door and examine it. It’s some energy drink-looking thing called Ecstasy. I hate energy drinks, so I quickly return it, except, as I place it back down, I hear the contents rattle. What could it be? Not drugs, surely. This is a beautiful hotel, and they couldn’t guarantee their guests would keep quiet about such a thing. I cock my head with curiosity, taking the can back out. It’s black, with fancy red writing on it, and not a whole lot of other information. Curiouser and curiouser, I pop the top off and peep into the rabbit hole. Unable to make anything out, I pour the contents into my hand, only to cause them to spill out all over the desk. It all happens so quickly, but as the silver bullet inside bounces on the desk a couple of times, it activates the power and causes it to vibrate. The bullet pauses on the edge of the desk, but only for a second before the powerful vibrations send it flying off behind the furniture. As I take stock of the other items – a condom, a small tube of lubricant and a blindfold – I realise this is some sort of sex kit, and that the vibrator that came with it (no pun intended) is currently lodged behind this big, heavy desk, vibrating loudly against the wood.
I move quickly, but it’s no use. I can’t reach it. Damn this stupid bodycon dress I bought today, that I can’t bloody move in. Thinking fast, I slip the dress off, allowing me my usual full range of body movements, and lean over the desk, reaching behind it to try and grab the offending vibrator.
There’s a knock on the door.
‘Just a sec,’ I call back. I can feel the vibrator with the tips of my fingers, but I just can’t get a hold of it. Just one big stretch and… oh God, my hand is stuck. My bangle is caught on the back of the desk. When I took off my clothes to try and reach, I never even thought about my tacky new accessories.
Whoever is at my door knocks again.
‘Coming,’ I snap loudly, in case they didn’t hear me the first time.
If I can just wiggle my hand free and turn this thing off…
‘Hello? Miss… Georgie?’ I hear the porter call as he opens the room door.
‘Oh my God, what are you doing in here?’ I call back.
‘You said “come in”,’ he replies. ‘I…’
He falls silent the second he lays eyes on me.
‘I said “coming”,’ I say softly, attempting to bury my probably very red face in the desk.
‘What’s… er…’
The porter is clearly lost for words.
‘I’m stuck,’ I tell him simply.
He rushes over and pulls the desk out from in front of the wall. I free my hand before snatching the vibrator, turning it off and quickly grabbing the bed sheets to save me any further embarrassment – as though that might be possible.
‘“Come in”, “coming” – I guess it’s the accent,’ he says awkwardly. He glances around the room, taking stock of all the alcohol, junk food and sex aids scattered around. Having just seen me bent over the desk in my underwear, trying to retrieve a loudly buzzing vibrator, I can only imagine what he’s thinking. ‘Erm, anyway, I have some good news. I know you said everything with the room was fine. Anyway, I don’t know if that’s good old English manners or what, but I told the manager something wasn’t right and he asked me to give you this voucher for a fully comped three-course meal in our restaurant tonight, for you and your fiancé – and a bottle of champagne for now.’
He smiles widely and theatrically.
‘Thank you so much,’ I reply, touched by his gesture. I tighten the bed sheets around my body – lest he see me in my underwear again – before taking the vouchers in one hand and the champagne in the other. I place them down on the desk before wrapping my arms around my body self-consciously.
‘And here are some chips – on the house. We wish you and your fiancé the best of luck in our casino.’
I take the chips from him. As I glance down at the numbers, I realise I’m holding $1,000 worth of chips.
‘Thank you.’
‘Are you having your champagne now, or are you waiting until your fiancé gets here?’ he asks.
‘Oh, now,’ I reply, a little quicker and more keenly than I probably should have.
‘Would you like me to pour it for you?’ he asks, although I can tell he wants to get out of this room just as much as I want him to.
‘It’s fine, thank you. I can handle things from here,’ I reply.
‘I’m sure you can,’ he replies – probably sarcastically. ‘Well, I promise not to bother you again in another ten minutes.’ Bloody hell, is that all it was?! ‘Is there anything else I can help you with?’
‘No, thank you,’ I reply. ‘Actually, yes, wait…’ I call after him. ‘I blocked my toilet.’

13 June 2017

Moon Phases Meanings by Labyrinthos

It maybe seems weird, but I always wanted to know the meaning of the Moon Phases, that's why I want to share with you this infographic, it's quite simple but really interesting! ;)

Jecka Cat

I am a cat lover (I love dogs too! ;) ) and I loved these Jecka beautiful sculptures, the best part is that you mount them, like a puzzle. They are not small, and I don't think it will be easy to make them, so perfect to enjoy in a rainy weekend!