Friday, December 22, 2023

Some News

 Well it's been a fun run on Must Read Faster, but I have decided to shut this chapter in my life and start a new one. This blog has seen me through some great patches and some very not so great patches. 

I will always love this blog, but I think I need to start something fresh. So I have created a new one, it's bare bones at the moment but I am feeling exceptionally excited about it. It's called Amethyst Books and while the title of the blog says books (which will be my main focus) I will use it as a place to talk about whatever is making me happy at that time. So book reviews, tv reviews, movies, music, etc. 

Thank you for hanging out with me so many years and I hope to see you over there. 

Amethyst Books

Friday, December 1, 2023

December #TBR Stack


Hiya there kind peoples! I am going to try something new this month! It's the last month of the year starting today, so I am going to challenge myself to a thing! I'm going to read 10 books this month! Can I do it? Honestly, I dunno. Will I give it my best try!? Abso-friggenlutely! So what am I aiming to read this month:

  • Fourth Wing
  • Vicious 
  • Red Rising
  • By the Light of Dead Stars
  • Weyward
  • Pet Semetary
  • The Assassin's Apprentice (finish this one)
  • Destiny (Finish this one) 
  • The Hobbit (finish this one)
  • The Secret History (finish this one)
As you can see I have four books that I've started then stopped and I want to finish them by the end of  the year so I can put them back on the shelf. It's a lofty goal for someone with a scatter brain that is also working and doing school AND during the holidays, but I'm going to give it the good old try hard! 

I won't be doing Monday posts this month, just check ins to let you know how good (or bad) I'm doing on my goal! 

The week of Christmas might be a big ole bust in terms of reading because my son will be with me, but I will still try my mightiest! I might do a few personal readathons to help but that's tbd. 

What are your plans for the month of December? 

Wednesday, November 22, 2023

Sophia Von X by Victoria Ray (Book Blitz)


Heist Crime, Religious Thriller, Mystery, Suspense, Adventure

Date Published: March 2020



"Sophia von X” is a 2020 Readers' Favorite Silver Medal Winner in the Fiction - Religious Theme genre!

It was supposed to be a vacation, the trip to a newly discovered tomb of Jesus…

When Sabina Ferrara was driving to Bingerbruck, Germany, she was hoping to put a painful marriage behind her. Certain unforeseen events turned against her, and during a visit to Christ’s tomb, she meets Thomas von Essen – a dangerous thief who is hiding behind the name of a decent family, pretending that he is a famous archaeologist. Against her will, Sabina is dragged into the middle of the stealing of biblical artifacts, killings, and shootings. She ended up attracting the attention of an unknown enemy from Jerusalem, a wicked man called Papa Zen. A powerful mogul who knows too much about Sabina and her mysterious birthmark. She is the one he was looking for so long…

12 lost pages from the Bible

Car chases, guns, and fights

Yakuza and Ndrangheta families

Palermo, Istanbul, Jerusalem

Deaths, tears, broken hearts

Sophia von X is a story of violence, obsession, secrets and tragedy, lies, hate, and love.


About the Author

SE Crème de la Crème author Victoria Ray lives in a small town 62 miles west of Stockholm. She has garnered much acclaim for her So Absurd It Must Be True series and her Sophia von X thriller.

Victoria is a finalist for the prestigious Readers Favorite Contest and has been nominated for a Book Excellence Award for original writing. When she is not writing, Victoria spends most of her time reading, cooking, traveling the world, walking with her dogs, and catching her favorite Gota Lejon shows. An admitted sweets fanatic, she feeds her addiction by visiting the local bakery April on Sunday afternoons.

Keep in touch with Victoria via Instagram: @victoriaray_nb

Visit Ray's blog on WordPress -

Contact Links


Purchase Link


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Monday, November 20, 2023

A Memory of Things To Come by J.S. Charette (Book Blitz)


Scifi / Fantasy

Date Published: October 17, 2023



A secret war rages on our planet, hidden just below the thin veneer of our society. An existential battle between mankind and demons being, fought by brave men and women who struggle to protect us from a foe we’re almost entirely ignorant of.

This is their story, and that of how a young group of friends were drawn into the conflict and how they could change everything.


About the Author

J.S. Charette is an American Novelist and Veteran of the United States Navy. Before he began writing, J.S. earned a bachelor's in Computer Science and an M.S. in Information Systems.

An avid reader with a lifelong love for the written word. J.S. is married with two beautiful daughters, who spent years demanding increasingly elaborate bedtime stories. As the girls grew, the stories matured with them, though the world and characters often stayed the same.

Over a decade, fully fleshed-out worlds appeared, and in time, they began morphing from fanciful bedtime tales into outlines for future novels.

He currently resides in Kansas City, Missouri, with his wife, youngest daughter, and faithful dog.

Purchase Link


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Sunday, November 19, 2023

The Medusa Murders by Joy Ann Ribar (Blog Tour-Review and Giveaway)

The Medusa Murders by Joy Ann Ribar Banner

The Medusa Murders

by Joy Ann Ribar

November 13-24, 2023 Virtual Book Tour

The Medusa Murders by Joy Ann Ribar


Professor Bay Browning has more snake problems than the Garden of Eden in this twisted mystery. The English Literature instructor is busy preparing for a new semester when a serial killer, known as Medusa, bites her quiet life in the behind.

A wild ride ensues when Bay and her grifter sister, Cass, assist a perturbed Detective Downing with the investigation. What else can the sisters do, once they become Medusa’s targets? Will the slithering trail of mythology, art history, and family secrets help them catch a killer before she turns them to stone?

Praise for The Medusa Murders:

"This first-in-series held me captive on the edge of my seat where I frantically turned the pages of this intricately crafted story, desperate to solve the mystery. And, oh, what a revelation it is!"
~ Laurie Buchanan, author of the Sean McPherson crime thriller novels

"A gritty and intense mystery that grabs you and won’t let go until the end. The personal relationships are complex, just like many in real life, and the familial drama pulls you in."
Kelly Young, author of A Travel Writer mystery series and Haunted and Harassed paranormal mystery series

"Ribar effectively wraps mythology, academia, archeology, and a touch of paranormal phenomena together to produce a more than satisfying read. Looking forward to spending more time with Bay."
~ Debra H. Goldstein, author of The Sarah Blair Mysteries

"A well-written, fast-paced and vibrant debut novel.
A highly recommended new series."
~ Christine DeSmet, writing coach and author of The Fudge Shop Mystery series and Mischief in Moonstone series

Book Details:

Genre: Amateur Sleuth, Mystery, Crime
Published by: Wine Glass Press
Publication Date: November 2023
Number of Pages: 316
ISBN: 9781959078203
Series: Bay Browning Mysteries, #1
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | | BookBub | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

Back at the parking space, Bay opened the passenger door and looked at the white particles in brighter light. They were sprinkled like powdered sugar over the right side of the back seat, directly underneath the bag of clothes Bay had gone through last night. She felt certain the particles must have come from the lululemon coat pocket. She remembered seeing Detective Harris turn the pocket inside out over one of the evidence bags. Had there been feathers in either of the pockets?

The empty parking lot at Giorgio’s put a smile on Bay’s face when she parked the Subaru a few minutes later. She was impatient to get to the bottom of the dry-cleaning mix-up and anxious to shake some details out of Giorgio. She could see him standing behind the customer counter, grooming his dark slicked-back hair and straightening his blue and white polo shirt that matched the building.

“Good morning, L.L. I see you have nothing in your hands, so what can I do for you today?” Giorgio’s velvety voice was smoother than grease.

“Cut the crap, Giorgio. You know why I’m here. Obviously, you sent the police to see me about my lululemon. What’s the story?” Bay frowned and her dark eyes narrowed.

Giorgio backed away as if Bay might punch him, marring his handsome face. He was Stasia’s youngest brother, probably around Bay’s age. Bay had learned more Andino family facts than she cared to after attending the mandatory gatherings at Stasia’s home the past year.

He held up both hands, placatingly. “I’ll tell you what I know, which isn’t much. My niece, Aria, was working on the day of the mix-up. She’s in back. I’ll go get her.”

“Get my lululemon, too, while you’re back there.” Might as well kill two birds as they say.

Aria was short and pretty with wide dark eyes and thick black hair pulled into a neat bun on top of her head. She wore the same blue and white polo over hospital-style light blue pants. Bay guessed she was barely out of high school. What was that expression: fear or guilt on Aria’s face?

“Good morning, Professor Browning. My uncle is looking for your raincoat.” Aria didn’t look Bay in the eyes.

Dialing down from accusatory to neutral tone, Bay began her questions. “I understand you were working when my lululemon was switched with the one the police confiscated.” No point in lollygagging her way to the matter at hand.

Aria looked down at her fingers, which were drumming methodically on the counter as if playing a tune on a piano. One hand stopped while the other slowed to a quiet tapping. “Yes. There were three other coats almost identical to yours when he brought in the one the police were after.”

Bay registered the information. “Who is he that brought the coat in, please?” The girl seemed quite fragile, so kid gloves were in order for this interrogation. Bay was accustomed to communicating with students Aria’s age, and she knew the best methods for building trust and rapport.

The finger tapping continued at a leisurely pace. Bay could almost pick out a rhumba beat. Aria continued to focus on her fingers, not looking up.

“He said his name was Chance.” She closed her eyes, conjuring his image. “He was wearing a black hoodie but took the hood off to talk to me. He had short dreadlocks swept up to one side and had smart glasses on. You know, his glasses made him look smart.” She smiled, caught up in the memory.

It was clear to Bay the boy had charmed Aria, and just maybe she would do anything for him. “Did Chance ask you for a favor, Aria?”

She blushed, then turned a deep red. “He used me…” She choked back tears.

“Yeah, boys are scum,” Bay empathized, glaring at Giorgio who had emerged from the back room empty-handed.

The finger tapping quickened as the incident unfolded, from a waltz to a cha-cha, Aria’s eyes remained closed during the telling. “He asked me if people brought their expensive clothing here. Like could we be trusted with their stuff, you know. He said he had his mom’s lululemon, and he was kind of flirting with me.” She paused, thinking.

“I told him we had three of those same coats in the back right now, and they were already cleaned and ready to pick up. I offered to show him, so he would know he could leave his mom’s coat here.”

Aria stopped tapping and looked at Bay’s face where empathy greeted her like a warm embrace. “I didn’t know Chance wanted to swap coats until he asked if I could swap one of the clean coats for his mother’s dirty one.” I figured that he was responsible for getting it dirty, and he didn’t want her to know about it.

“So, you randomly chose my coat and made the switch.” Bay wanted to sound helpful by filling in details, so Aria’s head shake surprised her.

“No. That’s when things got weird. He asked me if we had L.L. Browning’s coat. He specifically wanted to trade his coat for yours.”

Giorgio interrupted his niece, casting a warning look with shifty eyes.

Bay couldn’t be fooled. “Why didn’t you call me Friday to let me know about the switch or the police? You knew they were coming to question me.” She darted daggers at Giorgio, who winced and backed away.

“I didn’t think you were in danger, or I would have called you. How could I know that the lululemon was murder evidence?


Excerpt from The Medusa Murders by Joy Ann Ribar. Copyright 2023 by Joy Ann Ribar. Reproduced with permission from Joy Ann Ribar. All rights reserved.



Author Bio:

Joy Ann Ribar

Joy Ann Ribar is an RV author, writing on the road wherever her husband and their Winnebago View wanders. Joy’s cocktail of careers includes news reporter, paralegal, English educator, and aquaponics greenhouse technician, all of which prove useful in penning mysteries. She loves to bake, read, do wine research, and explore nature. Joy’s writing is inspired by Wisconsin’s four distinct seasons, natural beauty, and kind-hearted, but sometimes quirky, people.
Joy holds a BA in Journalism from UW-Madison and an MS in Education from UW-Oshkosh. She is a member of Mystery Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, Blackbird Writers, and Wisconsin Writers Association.

Catch Up With Joy Ann Ribar:
BookBub - @ribarjoy
Instagram - @authorjoyribar
Facebook - @JoyRibarAuthor

Want to mention her on Twitter/X? Use #JoyAnnRibar and share the love!


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This was a fun and well written mystery. The story is engaging and grabs you quick. I think I finished this one in a little over a day and that's quite a feat! I enjoyed the story, the characters, and how things unravel in a way that obviously kept me reading! The characters are interesting, the story is well developed and was just plain fun. 

This is the 1st in a series and I am very much waiting to get into the next one! 

I highly suggest checking this out!


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Tuesday, November 14, 2023

Girl Among Crows by Brendon Vayo (Spotlight and Giveaway)

Girl Among Crows by Brendon Vayo Banner

Girl Among Crows

by Brendon Vayo

October 30 - November 24, 2023 Virtual Book Tour


Girl Among Crows by Brendon Vayo

Beware the Brotherhood of the Raven

When two boys vanish from her hometown, Daphne Gauge notices uncanny parallels to her brother’s disappearance 30 years earlier. Symbols of an ancient Norse god. Rumors of a promise to reward the town’s faithful with wealth and power, for a price. She warns her husband that another sacrifice is imminent, but just like last time, no one believes her.

This leaves her with a desperate choice: investigate with limited resources, or give in to the FBI’s request for an interview. For years, they’ve wanted a member of the Gauge family to go on record about the tragedy back in 1988. If she agrees to a deposition now, Daphne must confess her family’s dark secrets. But she also might have one last chance to unmask the killer from back then . . . and now.

For readers who enjoy Stephen King, Gillian Flynn, Joshilyn Jackson, Riley Sager, Jennifer McMahon, and Simone St. James.

Praise for Girl Among Crows:

"Brendon Vayo has crafted a pagan potboiler that is equal parts mystical and mysterious, profane and profound, blissfully existing at the intersection of horror and whodunnits."
~ Clay McLeod Chapman, author of Ghost Eaters

"Fans of Gillian Flynn will love Girl Among Crows . . . Brendon Vayo’s debut thriller is eerie, mysterious, and addicting."
~ Brooke L. French, author of Inhuman Acts and The Carolina Variant

"Brendon Vayo’s Girl Among Crows is an eerie page turner rich with Norse Mythology, cult rituals, and creepy twists to rival Stephen King, Shirley Jackson and Stephen Graham Jones."
~ MQ Webb, author of When You’re Dying and How to Spot a Psychopath

"This fresh, artful thriller, as genuinely frightening a novel as you’ll read all year, darts smoothly between the decades as not one but two mysteries unfurl like stairways into darkness. Intelligent, original, audacious—and scary"
~ A.J. Finn, #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Woman in the Window

Book Details:

Genre: Horror
Published by: CamCat Books
Publication Date: November 2023
Number of Pages: 416
ISBN: 9780744306552 (ISBN10: 0744306558)
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | | Goodreads | CamCat Books

Read an excerpt:

My husband Karl shakes hands with other doctors, a carousel of orthopedic surgeons in cummerbunds. I read his lips over the brass band: How’s the champagne, Ed? Since he grayed, Karl wears a light beard that, for the convention, he trimmed to nothing.

The ballroom they rented has long windows that run along Boston’s waterfront. Sapphire table settings burn in their reflections.

The food looks delicious. Rainbows of heirloom carrots. Vermont white cheddar in the macaroni. Some compliment the main course, baked cod drizzled with olive oil. My eyes are on the chocolate cherries. Unless Karl is right, and they’re soaked in brandy.

At some dramatic point in the evening, balloons will drop from nets. A banner sags, prematurely revealing its last line.


Thirty years. How nice, though I try not to think that far back.

I miss something, another joke.

Everyone’s covering merlot-soaked teeth, and I wonder if they’re laughing at me. Is it my dress? I didn’t know if I should wear white like the other wives.

I redirect the conversation from my choice of a navy-blue one-shoulder, which I now see leaves me exposed, and ask so many questions about the latest in joint repair that I get lightheaded.

The chandelier spins. Double zeroes hit the roulette table. A break watching the ocean, then I’m back, resuming my duties as a spouse, suppressing a yawn for an older man my husband desperately wants to impress. A board member who could recommend Karl as the next director of clinical apps.

I’m thinking about moving up, our careers. I’m not thinking dark thoughts like people are laughing or staring at me. Not even when someone taps me on the shoulder.

“Are you Daphne?” asks a young man. A member of the wait staff. No one should know me here; I’m an ornament. Yet something’s familiar about the young man’s blue eyes. Heat trickles down my neck as I try to name the sensation in my stomach.

“And you are?” I say.

“Gerard,” he says. The glasses on his platter sway with caffeinated amber. “Gerard Gedney. You remember?”

I gag on my ginger ale.

“My gosh, I do,” I say. “Gerard. Wow.”

Thirty years ago, when this convention was still in its planning stages, Gerard Gedney was the little boy who had to stay in his room for almost his entire childhood. Beginning of every school year, each class made Get Well Soon cards and mailed them to his house.

We moved before I knew what happened to Gerard, but with everything else, I never thought of him until now. All the growing up he must’ve done, despite the odds, and now at least he got out, got away.

“I beat the leukemia,” he says.

“I’m so glad for you, Gerard.”

If that’s the appropriate response. The awkwardness that defined my childhood creeps over me. Of all the people to bump into, it has to be David Gedney’s brother. David, the Boy Never Found.

My eyes jump from Gerard to the other wait staff. They wear pleated dress pants. Gerard’s in a T-shirt, bowtie, and black jeans.

“I don’t really work here, Daphne,” says Gerard, sliding the platter onto a table. “I’ve been looking for you for a while.”

The centerpiece topples. Glass shatters. An old woman holds her throat.

“Gerard,” I say, my knees weak, “I understand you’re upset about David. Can we please not do this here?”

Gerard wouldn’t be the first to unload on what awful people we were. But to hear family gossip aired tonight, in front of my husband and his colleagues? I can’t even imagine what Karl would think.

“I’m not here about my brother,” says Gerard. “I’m here about yours.” His words twist.

“Paul,” I say. “What about him?”

“I’m so sorry,” says a waiter, bumping me. Another kneels to pick up green chunks of the vase. When I find Gerard again, he’s at the service exit, waiting for me to follow.

Before I do, I take one last look at the distinguished men and a few women. The shoulder claps. The dancing. Karl wants to be in that clique—I mean, I want that too. For him, I want it.

But I realize something else. They’re having a good time in a way I never could, even if I were able to let go of the memory of my brother, Paul.


The catering service has two vans in the alleyway. It’s a tunnel that feeds into the Boston skyline, the Prudential Center its shining peak.

Gerard beckons me to duck behind a stinky dumpster. Rain drizzles on cardboard boxes.

I never knew Gerard as a man. Maybe he has a knife or wants to strangle me, and all this news about my brother was bait to lure me out here. I’m vulnerable in high heels. But Gerard doesn’t pull a weapon.

He pulls out a postcard, its edges dusty with a white powder I can’t identify. The image is of three black crows inscribed on a glowing full moon.

“I found it in Dad’s things,” says Gerard. “Please take it. Look, David is gone. We’ve got to live with the messes our parents made. Mine sacrificed a lot for my treatment, but had they moved to Boston, I probably would’ve beat the cancer in months instead of years.”

“And this is about Paul?” I say.

“When the chemo was at its worst,” says Gerard, “I dreamed about a boy, my older self, telling me I would survive.”

I take my eyes off Gerard long enough to read the back of the postcard:

$ from Crusher. Keep yourself pure, Brother. For the sake of our children, the Door must remain open.

Crusher. Brother. Door. No salutation or signature, no return address. Other than Crusher, no names of any kind. The words run together with Gerard’s take on how treatment changed his perspective.

Something presses my stomach again. Dread. Soon as I saw this young man, I knew he was an omen of something. And when is an omen good?

“Your dad had this,” I say. “Did he say why? Or who sent it?”

An angry look crosses Gerard’s face. “My dad’s dead,” he says. “So’s Brother Dominic. Liver cancer stage 4B on Christmas Day. What’d they do to deserve that, huh?”

“They both died on Christmas? Gerard, I’m so sorry.” First David, now his dad and Dominic? He stiffens when I reach for him, and, of course, I’m the last person he wants to comfort him. “I know how hard it is. I lost my mom, as you know, and my dad ten years ago.”

The day Dad died, I thought I’d never get off the floor. I cried so hard I threw up, right in the kitchen. Karl was there, my future husband, visiting on the weekend from his residency. I didn’t even think we were serious, but there he was, talking me through it, the words lost now, but not the comfort of his voice.

I looked in his eyes, daring to hope that with this man I wouldn’t pass on to my children what Mom passed down to me.

“Mom’s half-there most days,” says Gerard. “But one thing.”

The rear entrance bangs open, spewing orange light. Two men dump oily garbage, chatting in Spanish.

“Check the postmark, Daphne,” says Gerard at the end of the alleyway. He was right beside me. Now it’s a black bird sidestepping on the dumpster, its talons clacking, wanting me to feed it. I flinch and catch Gerard shrugging under the icy rain before he disappears.

The postmark is from Los Angeles, sent October last year. Six months ago, George Gedney received this postcard. Two months later, he’s dead, and so is another son.

What does that mean? How does it fit in with Paul?

Though he’s gone, I keep calling for Gerard, my voice strangled. Someone has me by the elbow, my husband. Even in lifts, Karl’s three inches shorter than me.

“Daphne, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“Colquitt. I need Sheriff Colquitt or . . .” Voices argue in my head, and I nod at the hail swirling past yellow streetlamps. “Thirty years ago, Bixbee was a young man. He might still be alive.”

“Daphne, did that man hurt you? Hey.”

Karl demands that someone call the police, but I shake him.

“It’s fine, Karl,” I say, dialing Berkshire County Sheriff ’s Office. “Gerard’s a boy I knew from my hometown.”

Karl’s calling someone too. “Some coincidence,” he says.

Though it wasn’t. Here I am trying not to think about the past, and it comes back to slap me in the face as though I summoned it. Paul. The little brother I vowed to protect.

The phone finally picks up. “Berkshire Sheriff’s Office.”

“Hello,” I say, “could I leave a message for Harold Bixbee to call me back as soon as possible? He is or was a deputy in your department.”

“Uh, ma’am, I don’t have anyone in our personnel records who matches that name. But if it’s an emergency, I’d be glad—”

I hang up. Damn. I should’ve known at nine p.m., all I’d get is a desk sergeant. I’d spend half the night catching him up to speed.

“Daphne.” My husband lowers his phone, looking at me as though I’ve lost my mind. “I asked Ed to pull the hotel’s security feed. You’re the only one on tape.”

“What? No.”

“It shows that you walked out that door alone,” says Karl, gesturing, “and I come out a few minutes later.”

The Door must remain open.

Dread hardens, then the postcard’s corner jabs my thumb. I’m about to show Karl my proof when I realize that now there are only two crows in the moon.

“How’d he do that?” I keep flipping it, expecting the third one to return, before I sense my husband waiting. Distantly, I hear wings flap, but it could be the rain. “Gerard wanted me to have his dad’s postcard.”

“So this boy Gerard comes all the way from Springfield to hand you a postcard,” Karl says. “And he can magically avoid cameras?”

“I’m not from Springfield,” I say, shaking off a chill. Magically avoid cameras. And Gerard can turn pictures of crows into real ones too. How?

“You seem very agitated,” says Karl. “Want me to call Dr. Russell? Unless . . .” Karl’s listening, just not to me. “Ed says the camera angles aren’t the best here. There’s a few blind spots.”

“I said I’m not from Springfield, Karl. Any more than you’re from Boston.”

My husband nods, still wary. “Boston is more recognizable than Quincy. But how does your hometown account for why Gerard isn’t on the security footage?”

I lick my lips, my hand hovering over Karl’s phone.

When we first met, I wanted to keep things upbeat. Me? I’m a daddy’s girl, though (chuckling) certainly not to a fault. In the interest of a second date, I might’ve understated some things.

“Here,” I say, “it’s more like I’m from the Hilltowns. It’s a remote area.” My lips tremble, trying to force out the name of my hometown. “I was born and raised in New Minton, Karl.”

Somewhere between Cabbage Patch Kids and stickers hidden in a cereal box, the ones Paul demanded every time we opened a new Crøønchy Stars, is recognition. I can tell by the strange flicker on Karl’s face.

“The New Minton Boys,” he says. “All those missing kids, the ones never found.” Karl is stunned. “Daphne, you’re from there? Did you know those boys? God, you would’ve been a kid yourself.”

“I was eleven,” I say. And I was a kid, a selfish kid. I came from a large family. Brandy was seventeen, Courtney fifteen, Ellie nine, and Paul seven.

The day before my brother disappeared, I wasn’t thinking that this night was the last time we’d all be together. I wasn’t thinking about the pain Mom and Dad would go through, especially after the town gossip began.

No. I thought my biggest problems in the world were mean schoolboys. So I ruined dinner.

“Daphne?” Now Karl looks mad. “That’s a big secret not to tell your husband.”

If only he knew.


Excerpt from Girl Among Crows by Brendon Vayo. Copyright 2023 by Brendon Vayo. Reproduced with permission from CamCat Books. All rights reserved.



Author Bio:

Brendon Vayo

Brendon Vayo was born in Okinawa, Japan, and now lives in Austin, TX. He has a wonderful wife and three children. The kids keep him awake at night, so he hopes his books do the same to you.

Catch Up With Brendon Vayo:
Instagram - @brendonvayo
Twitter/X - @brendonvayo3



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Monday, November 13, 2023

Weekly Reading AKA I Succumb To Internet Peer Pressure


So I have been seeing things about this series like every single time I go anywhere were books are talked about for several weeks. I bowed to the peer pressure and bought it for my birthday. So I've put it on my stack for this week. 

I HAVE A COPY OF FOURTH WING!!! Thanks interwebs! 

I will also be reading (or trying to) this one:

I am feeling extremely motivated this week, so I do hope to have reviews coming up soon! 

What are you reading?