Giveaway + Book Blitz : Sleeping Tom by E. V. Fairfall

Back at it again with the promotion of awesome books!!

Sleeping Tom
E.V. Fairfall
(Sleeping Tom #1)
Publication date: February 14th 2015
Genres: Contemporary, Romance, Young Adult

Hitchhiking is a bad idea but Caden is desperate.

When she accepts a ride from the first car to come by she meets Gabriel. He’s her age, hot, and the closest thing she has to a savior. Problem is, he is a total jerk. With nowhere to go, Caden convinces Gabriel to let her stay with him for one night. He reluctantly lends a couch.

That night Caden wakes up to strange noises. Concerned, she rushes into Gabriel’s room, already anticipating his bad temper. Instead, he’s kind, sweet, and suspiciously harmless—nothing like the man who gave her a ride. He seems like a different person altogether, and claims he is. By night he is Tom, and by day he is Gabriel. Caden finds herself drawn to the mysteries hidden in his eyes.

For Gabriel, Caden is an annoying mistake. One night turns into many, and despite all his anger towards her, she stays. She even seems to accept him and his flaws, but he still doesn’t trust her—is she staying for him, or has she already discovered more than he’s willing to share?

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Grab yours today for only 99cents (for a limited time only)!

Stay tuned for Waking Gabriel‘s release in July!


“Don’t go.”

He was creeping her out. She wanted to run and hide from him, but instead she held her ground and, as casually as she could, leaned into the doorframe. “It’s like three in the morning,” she reminded him, attempting a frown to hide her anxiety.

“Do you want to play a game?”

“What?” Caden asked, his voice once again making her unsure. A game? It sounded like something Sean would say. Caden shifted her weight, eyeing him warily. I can handle this. She let out a deep breath; if nothing else she could use this as an opportunity. Cleaning at three in the morning obviously hadn’t scored her enough Good Samaritan points.

“Sure… We can play a game.” She wondered if her hesitation would make him angry, like she had when they had been in the car that afternoon.

She looked around for a weapon, anything she could use to protect herself. As her eyes scanned the room each surface was bare, aside from the bulky old alarm clock on the nightstand.

“First, you have to turn off the lights.”

Caden’s hand shook. This didn’t feel right. “Okay,” She mumbled, attempting to seem unfazed, and she turned off the lights with a flick of her wrist. It took a few seconds for her eyes to readjust, and when they did she saw the boy leap back onto the bed, light and agile. She took an uneasy step back. Her chest constricted and her breath caught in her throat. Caden couldn’t deny being unsure of the situation, of this boy who somehow had to be the man she’d met earlier that day.

His head moved from side to side, watching her as intently as she watched him. “What do you want to play?” he asked.

Even then, with him in better visibility, Caden couldn’t tell if the boy was really Gabriel. It was the same voice she had heard earlier, but without the rough edge of his irritation it sounded much younger and innocent, like that of a child. “I don’t know…”

“Oh, come on, think of something,” he said.

When he didn’t move to grab her, she relaxed a little, her breath evening out once again. Caden could feel her confidence slowly building. Maybe he really just wants to play a game. “Aren’t you tired?”

The boy’s shoulders and head dropped. “So you don’t want to play,” he confirmed dejectedly. She watched as he turned around on the empty bed, to face the other wall.

Caden’s little sister Reese always used guilt to get what she wanted. She hadn’t known a guy her own age could make her feel just as guilty, if not worse. “No, no, I want to play. I do.” As long as you stay on that side of the room. Caden moved farther into the room but stayed a good six feet away.

“What game? What game?” He bounced on the bed in his sitting position.

“Do you have any cards?” She clutched the blanket tighter around her, but tried to keep her voice light and casual.

“Cards?” The boy, who no longer seemed like Gabriel at all, stuck out his tongue. “Dumb. Something else.”

Author Bio:

The hunger is encompassing, so she feeds the beast books. But the hunger never settles… so she writes. E.V. Fairfall has an itch that drives her to the world of story telling. With several published short stories, and soon several books (fingers crossed), she explores the topics of humanity and hardship.

During the daylight hours, a book is always within reach. She spends her nights reading with her husband, surrounded by towers of tomes and three furry children curled in close. If she isn’t reading, she is browsing bookstores or hiking, but always awaiting her next adventure.

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Book Review: The Flame by Mark A. Evans

26101782.jpgTitle : The Flame

Author : Mark A. Evans

Publisher : create space

Release date : May 21st, 2015

Rating : 2.5/5

Synopsis (from Goodreads) :

We follow the adventures of Julie, a high school freshman living in a small midcoast Maine town. At a time of loss, Julie discovers that she has a very rare ability which will alter the future for her and her brother Ed. They have so much to learn and no one to help them. A boarding camp in the middle of the Maine woods and strangers from distant countries await them. A mystery is afoot, and they are the only ones who can solve it.

Review :

I would like to thank the author for providing me with a copy of this book, but it doesn’t affect my opinion.

Are you ready for a revelation? I judge books by their cover *gasps*. Not always, but often. It’s like how you savor food as much with your eyes as with your mouth, you know? Pretty covers attract the eye, and they enrich your bookshelf’s looks. The Flame’s cover didn’t appeal to my eyes. It looks too basic, it needs better editing, and personally, I don’t like when covers feature real-life people, unless it’s exceptionally beautiful, like The Selection’s cover. But despite the first impression, I decided I’d give this book a chance, because I was happy to help Mark Evans!

I don’t regret reading this book, but it wasn’t as good as I expected. My biggest turn off, and it was a big one, was the writing style. The prose felt like a biography, or a documentary. It states facts, instead of transporting us on its words. Really good books are able to lift me off my feet, but for this one, I stayed flat on the ground. The writing also didn’t offer much mystery, despite the fact that the summary suggested there would be some. It lacked depth, but it’s not an insurmountable issue. The plot sometimes seemed to go too fast, and then sometimes too slow. It wasn’t very constant. Actually, the pattern of “I did this, … I want that, … I _____, … I _____, …” made it all too clear that this is Evans’ first novel. For a debut writer, though, it could have been worse, so I’m sure he’ll get better.

The writing in itself doesn’t deliver a mysterious atmosphere, but the events kept me on the edge of my seat! You never know what will be the characters’ next move. The book also deals with society’s issues, hard ones, but it deals O.K. with them. I would have liked to see more of it, so I was left unsatisfied by the end of the novel.

A good point to Evans’ work is the characters. The reading was a bit more enjoyable because the characters themselves were a joy to read. They are very relatable, like people you could meet in everyday life. What the book lacks in writing, it makes up for it in the characters. They are well developed, despite the Evans’ trouble with writing dialogues involving young people. It seemed like he was trying too hard to sound like a teenager, that it comes off as awkward. Anyway, Evans has a nice touch with characters, and once his writing improves, I’m sure his books will be amazing!

All in all, there is good content, but the container made it hard for me to fully appreciate the book. I know people usually say content is more important than container, but I’ll leave this quote for dissertations and school’s stuff.

Picture sources : 1, 2

Giveaway + Book Blitz: Shining Sea by Mimi Cross

Shining Sea
Mimi Cross
Published by: Skyscape
Publication date: Fantasy, Romance, Young Adult
Genres: Thriller, Young Adult

Seventeen-year-old Arion Rush has always played the obedient sidekick to her older sister’s flashy femme fatale—until a mysterious boating accident leaves Lilah a silent, traumatized stranger. As her sister awaits medical treatment with their mother, Arion and their father head to his hometown in Maine to prepare a new life for them all. Surrounded by the vast Atlantic, songwriting is Arion’s only solace, her solid ground.

Unexpectedly, Arion blossoms in the tiny coastal town. Friends flock to her, and Logan Delaine, a volatile heartthrob, seems downright smitten. But it’s Bo Summers—a solitary surfer, as alluring as he is aloof—that Arion can’t shake. Meanwhile, Lilah’s worsening condition, a string of local fatalities, and Arion’s own recent brushes with death seem ominously linked…to Bo’s otherworldly family. As Arion’s feelings for Bo intensify and his affections turn possessive, she must make a choice. How will Arion learn to listen to her own voice when Bo’s siren song won’t stop ringing in her ears?

Goodreads / Amazon



Tuneless humming is coming from the bedroom next to mine. I’ve always been the better singer, no secret. Even before I could talk, I sang. To me, singing feels like . . . flying.

As a little kid I sang in the church choir, later on in the choruses at school, and about six months ago I started writing songs—not that I’d call myself a songwriter yet. My first gig was last week, down in the Mission District. Standing on the spotlit stage of the black box performance space, I played one long set—twelve tunes total—while hipsters watched with crossed arms.

Performing in front of an audience is a good way to tell if your songs are finished.

Or not.

The song I’m trying to capture now definitely falls into the not category.

I give the guitar a soft strum—a ghost of a chord slips out. Playing the haunting notes a little louder, I listen for the melody. It’ll come, eventually, but we’re leaving any minute.

Not just leaving . . . moving.

“Do you know,” I whisper sing, “where lost things go?”

In the next room Lilah falls silent. The lyrics tangle in my throat.

My fingers fumble, then jerk—playing a rhythmic pattern atop a single minor chord: one and two, one and two. Words tumble out of me. “Saint Anthony, can you come around? There’s something lost, and it can’t be found.”

Saint Anthony—is he the one?

A quick Google search on the laptop perched at the end of my bed tells me he is. Saint Anthony is invoked as the finder of lost things. Pulling my guitar closer, I play the line over and over.

“Arion? You up there?”

Dad. After shoving the laptop into my backpack, I shut the guitar in its case and head into the hall. Hands full, I stand in my sister’s doorway.

She doesn’t see me.

Even as thin as she is, even with the ever-present dark shadows beneath her eyes, Lilah is beautiful. Her features are regular and in proportion. Mine . . . are slightly exaggerated. Nose longer, lips fuller. Now, without music to distract me, the tears I’d vowed not to cry fill my eyes. Brown eyes. On a good day, they’re hazel. Maybe.

There’s no mistaking the color of my sister’s eyes. Bright blue. Her hair is black and shiny, cut straight across her forehead and blunt at her shoulders in a way that has always made me think of Cleopatra, but especially since the accident, when she became a mystery to me. Lilah no longer tells me her every thought. She can’t.

My sister blinks her bellflower eyes now, and for a split second— seems to focus on me.

But the illusion vanishes just as quickly. I swallow around the lump in my throat, wondering for the millionth time if she has any idea what’s going on.

Her bed is up against the window. In the distance—over a nearly invisible San Francisco Bay—the Golden Gate Bridge hovers in fog. Sitting down beside her on the bed, I lay a hand on one of her legs—feel bones, atrophied muscles. A raw feeling spreads through me, like a dull blade is scraping the underside of my skin.

“So . . . guess it’s time for goodbye.” I take a deep breath in, let it out slowly—which doesn’t help at all. “I’ll see you in Rock Hook Harbor. Dad’s one-horse hometown . . . Sounds happening, huh?” My attempt at lightheartedness fails completely. The words drop like bricks.

Leaning in, I kiss her cheek.

She turns away, as if looking toward the ghostly water. Or, is she looking at the water? Or just staring blankly?

I so want it to be the former. The doctors say it’s the latter.

In my chest, a hairline fissure I’ve fused together with lyrics and chords pops open.

“I love you,” I choke out.

She doesn’t answer. Of course she doesn’t.

Biting down hard on my lip, I stand up, trying not to feel like I’m leaving my best friend stranded. But I am. She is. Stranded. She’s been stranded, for a year.

Swiping at my eyes, I take a few steps down the hall—then turn suddenly into my parents’ room, which is mostly Mom’s room now. Dad spends the nights he’s here on the living room couch, where, after dinner—usually something complicated he’s cooked up involving lots of pots and pans—he falls asleep with the TV on. Blue screen to white noise; maybe the sound helps him. Music works better for me. Or, it used to. I used to lie in bed at night and sing. Lately, all I want to do is sleep.

Like the rest of the house, my parents’ bedroom is crowded with canvases. Filled with slashes of color and geometric shapes, each paint- ing has the name “Cici” scrawled in large letters down in the right-hand corner. Mom’s pictures pulse with unfamiliar energy, and my nostrils flare at the scent of paint fumes as I move a half-finished piece—an abstract portrait of a girl, I think—that’s leaning up against the glass door. Slipping out onto the balcony, I clutch the cold railing and eye a moldering stack of Psychology Today magazines. Therapy is Mom’s religion.

A pair of paint-splattered jeans hangs off a chair. A handful of paintbrushes soak in a bucket. There’s no sign of Dad.

My parents are like a couple of unmoored boats. Drifting. One of the few things they agreed on this past year? The accident was Dad’s fault. A pretty stupid conclusion, really, considering he hadn’t even been on the boat. But he’s a ship’s captain. Lilah and I inherited our love of the water from him.

Water. I hate it now. Because of the water, I’m on this balcony almost every day, drawn out here as if for a long-standing appointment, some prearranged meeting between me and my broken heart. I cry here; sometimes I yell. Sometimes I write, and one day, I nearly threw my guitar over the railing.

Splintered wood, snapped strings, I’m interested in broken things. The circling song lyrics fade at the sound of Mom’s strained voice. “Arion, have you finished saying goodbye to Delilah? Your dad’s ready to go.”

I stay another second, then scoop up a stray guitar pick from the terracotta tiles and head inside, not paying any attention to the paint- ings now, just intent on leaving before I get any more upset.

But then I’m passing Lilah’s room—and I see it.

The slim black notebook I’ve searched for probably a hundred times over the past year.

Oh, I’ve seen the palm-size Moleskine with its curled cover, seen it clutched in Lilah’s fist, watched as she whisked the small black book beneath her quilt, or shoved it between her sheets. I just haven’t been able to get my hands on it, and I’ve wanted to, desperately.

So many times I’ve seen her slip the notebook between the over- size pages of the art books that Mom insists on bringing home from the library. She’ll hug the book close then—her treasure safe inside— but she’ll never actually look at the glossy pages. Not like she looks at that notebook. She looks at that black book like it’s the only thing she recognizes.

It’s definitely some kind of diary. Not that I ever see her writing in it, not since before. But she’s always got it on her.

Only, she doesn’t have it on her now.

Now, there it is, on the floor next to her bed. And Lilah, there she is, still looking but not looking out the window. Transfixed, it would seem, by the gray bay. As I watch, she lifts one hand, bringing her fingertips to the glass—as if there’s something out there she wants to touch.

It’s kind of amazing how I do it, how I steal her most precious pos- session without breaking my stride. How I silently sweep into the room and, bending low, snatch it up—then keep on walking like nothing’s happened. Like I’m ten-year-old Lilah herself, that time at the rock and gem shop down near the beach, trying on one sterling silver ring, then another. I’ll never forget it, how she smiled at the shopkeeper—maybe even said thank you—then practically skipped out the door, still wear- ing at least one of the rings. Once outside, she tossed a half-dozen more rings onto the pebbles that served as the shop’s front yard, so that she could retrieve them that night when the gem shop was closed, so that we could retrieve them.

Eight-year-old me, I’d held the flashlight for her. She’d given me one of the rings as my reward, but only one.

I feel bad taking the book; if I could read it and leave it, I would. But there’s no time. Through the hall window I can see Dad standing down in the driveway by the old green Jeep Cherokee, the car that will be mine once we get to Maine.

So I slide the notebook into the pocket of my backpack where it burns a hole so big I think it will surely fall out—pages fluttering like fiery wings—and slap the floor with a sound so sharp, Lilah will shud- der to life. She’ll spring up and shout at me, her old self at last.

But nothing like this happens.

Leaving Lilah. Taking the notebook. My skin ripples with guilt. But we have to go on ahead. School’s starting in a few weeks, plus Dad’s new job—they won’t hold it any longer.

And really, I have to take the book. I need to know what happened.

Out in the driveway, I crane my neck, trying to see if Lilah’s still at the window.

“Hold on,” Mom shouts from the house, “I almost forgot!”

Time seems suspended as Dad and I wait by the car, the limbo of the long ride already upon us . . .

Mom reappears holding a square box wrapped in gold paper and a purple ribbon. Balanced on top is a fat cupcake with pink frosting.

“Happy birthday, Arion.” Her flinty blue eyes soften. She hands me the awkward duo and gives me an equally awkward hug. “From both of us.”

Dad smiles, shakes his head. “Seventeen.” He’s always been a man of few words.

“Thanks, Mom. Dad.” Swallowing hard, I climb into the car with the gifts on my lap. Mom pecks Dad on the cheek, and he gets behind the wheel. As we pull away, she blows me a kiss.

Twisting in my seat, I wave—then look up at the second story. No Lilah.

My chest hurts so much—I actually glance down. But there’s nothing except a smear of pink icing on my shirt, where I’d leaned into the cupcake.

We’ll fly back close to Thanksgiving, when Lilah is scheduled for the operation that my parents have finally decided is her best bet: a surgical procedure to implant a device in her brain.

It’s not as sci-fi as it sounds. The battery-operated device is kind of like a pacemaker, only for your brain instead of your heart. This kind of surgery is used to treat a variety of disabling neurological symptoms, although I think whoever came up with DBS—deep brain stimulation—was thinking of people with Alzheimer’s or Parkinson’s, not, well, whatever’s wrong with Lilah. Her case is—entirely different. I’m not going to pretend: I’m scared. But the plan is, we’ll all be together in Maine by Christmas, so that’s what I’m trying to focus on. I’ll miss Lilah. Mom too. But I’m glad to be leaving San Francisco.

My life here . . . is on hold—except for my music. The rest is a waiting game.

We’ve all been waiting for Lilah to find what she lost. As if she can look for it.


Author Bio:

Mimi Cross was born in Toronto, Canada. She received a master’s degree from New York University and a bachelor’s degree in music from Ithaca College. She has been a performer, a music educator, and a yoga instructor. During the course of her musical career, she’s shared the bill with artists such as Bruce Springsteen, Jon Bon Jovi, and Sting. She resides in New Jersey.

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Casting Call: A Court of Thorns and Roses

Have you ever read a book, and wondered how it would be like to see it on the screen? I have.

I have asked myself several times, about several books, how they could be made as movies. I wondered about the setting, the filming locations, the acting, the script, the costumes, the director. Mostly, though, I have wondered if the actors who would be cast, would resemble how I already imagine my characters to look like.

When a book is really good and worthy of a visual representation, I anguish about how a powerful individual, such as a casting director, would imagine the characters. Yes, acting skills must be taken into consideration, but let’s just focus on looks here, alright?

I have been disappointed in the past (glares at Jamie Campbell Bower). I have been indifferent, also (glances at Liam Hemsworth). I have been pleased as well (looks at Ansel Elgort). In light of my questions, I thought it would be fun to have a turn at casting. Unfortunately, I didn’t find anyone who perfectly matched my imagination, since I had to look through people I already knew. Please note that this is fancast; nothing official here. Have fun reading 🙂

The book that will have the first honor will be A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas, as I just finished and loved it. For my full review, see here.

[All descriptions from here]

Alycia Debnam-Carey as Feyre


Feyre is tall and slender, with pale skin and golden-brown hair and slightly up-tilted blue-grey eyes. After her time in the Spring Court, her skin had tanned and freckled a bit. She has a pert and pretty nose, sharp cheekbones and a soft mouth. She is supposedly quite beautiful.

Christopher Brown (Christopher Mason) as Tamlin


In his human form, he is tall with blond hair and green eyes. Also, strikingly handsome, though for the better half of the first book his face is covered by a mask. He has a warrior’s body that’s been honed to perfection over hundreds of years.

Max Irons as Lucien


Imagine him with ginger hair

Throughout the book, Lucien is seen wearing a copper fox mask. He has one russet eye, while the other is made of metal of a gold colour. His face is brutally scarred from his brow to his jaw (it is later revealed that this, along with his metal eye, was caused by Amarantha). His hair is red, and his skin is pale; his voice is described to be smug, his laugh barking.

Without his mask, his features are described by Feyre as sharp, elegant, and ethereally handsome despite the length of scars on his face.

Sean O’Pry as Rhysand


Rhysand is described to have short black hair, like a raven’s feathers, that offset his pale skin. However, during the second installment, Rhys is described as having tan skin with magnificient art that decorated his chest and knees. He has blue eyes, described as so deep that they were violet with flecks of silver like starlight. He appears to radiate sensual grace and ease. […] His beauty and handsomeness are said to be legendary, greater so far than anyone else’s in Prythian. According to Feyre, his face is “perfect” and he has a “powerful body”

Jane Levy as Amarantha


Feyre noted that Amarantha’s appearance didn’t radiate darkness and bitterness but someone who had a charming allure. She had neatly braided red-gold hair, which wove elegantly through her golden crown. Her skin was white, which both complemented her ruby lips and her crown. Her elegance is shown to have an atmosphere of being contrived and cold.

What do you think of my fancast? Do you have other suggestions? Please, let me know! I know two of them are mainly models, but acting can be taught, right? This was so fun to write; thanks for reading!

My European Top Secret File on Monthly Book Subscription Boxes

You guys have probably heard of Monthly Book Subscription Boxes. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you? Those awesome, desirable, AMAZING boxes that, every month, deliver books and/or bookish items, such as bookmarks, bookplates, pillowcases, candles, etc. On Instagram, I see so many unboxing videos/photos, and they are all enticing me to subscribe to one of those boxes. But first, I had to dig up some information!

Just like I did with my personal America-based favorites, this time I will be talking exclusively about the best (in my opinion) European boxes I found out about! There aren’t many, but they’re high quality! Here we go :

  • Illumicrate ships boxes every 3 months, that means 4 boxes/year. It offers a YA book and bookish items. It costs £29.99+sf/box. Shipping fees vary between £4.99 – £13.99 depending on where you live, but shipping is free in the UK.
  • FairyLoot offers a YA fantasy book and bookish goodies. Month-to-month is £26.00+sf/month. 3-Month is £78.00+sf/month paid upfront. 6-Month is £156.00+sf/month paid upfront. Shipping fees depend on your location (calculed at checkout).
  • My Bookish Crate offers a YA book and bookish goodies. It costs £28.00+sf/month. Shipping fees depend on your location. I tried some locations, and from what I could tell, in the UK it’s £3.00, but can go as high as £18.00 in Canada.

Since there aren’t many European boxes, my favorite list only consists of 3. If you want more options, don’t be afraid to ask me! Also, if I find out about more great European boxes, I will update this list and notify you on another post. 🙂

Thank you for reading this, and let’s mourn our bank accounts together!

My Top Secret File on Monthly Book Subscription Boxes

You guys have probably heard of Monthly Book Subscription Boxes. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you? Those awesome, desirable, AMAZING boxes that, every month, deliver books and/or bookish items, such as bookmarks, bookplates, pillowcases, candles, etc. On Instagram, I see so many unboxing videos/photos, and they are all enticing me to subscribe to one of those boxes. But first, I had to dig up some information!

2 observations:

  1. For people OUTSIDE of the US, shipping fees can be exorbitant. And most boxes are from the US. Shipping fees can go as high as the boxes’ prices themselves.
  2. Some boxes focus on a certain theme. For example, book+tea, book+jewelry, etc. You need to figure out what you want, first of all.

In light of my research, I have decided to share with you what information I garnered. I don’t have personal experience with them, though. I’m still deciding if the cost is worth the items xD Without further ado, here are my favorite ones so far (I haven’t bought them yet, the price and items included just seem the most worth it)!

  • UpperCase Box offers 2 plans for YA readers. Expert (hardcover book, something signed by the author, and other bookish stuff) is $23 US+shipping fees/month; Book Exclusive is (everything, except for the bookish items) $17 US+shipping fees/month. Shipping fees : $6 US in the US, Puerto Rico and APO address, and $24 US in Canada. Doesn’t ship outside of US and Canada.
  • OwlCrate offers a YA book and bookish items. Month-to-month is $30 US+shipping fees/month. 3-Month is $29 US+sf/month paid upfront. 6-Month is $28 US+sf/month paid upfront. Shipping fees : $7 US in the US, $10.59 US in Canada, and $20 US internationally.
  • The Best Damn Book Box offers a YA book and bookish items. It costs $40/month. I think shipping fees are included.
  • The Book Drop offers different subscriptions depending on your favorite book genre. The YA one delivers a book and a bookish item. It costs $13 US+sf/month. Shipping fees depend on where you are in the US, $16  US in Canada, and $26 US internationally.
  • The Monthly Prophet doesn’t offer books, but bookish items on the theme of Magic OR Mystery. It costs $26 US+sf/month. Shipping fees are max $15 US.
  • Muse Monthly offers a fiction book and tea. Month-to-month is $21 US+shipping fees/month. 3-Month is $63 US+sf paid upfront. 6-Month is $125 US+sf paid upfront. 12-Month is $245 US+sf paid upfront. Shipping fees : $6 US in the US, and $18 US in Canada. It doesn’t ship internationally.
  • Novel Tea Club offers different genres: a book, tea and something extra. For the YA one, month-to-month, it costs $33 CAD/month (shipping fees included for the US and Canada). 3-Month prepay is $90 CAD. It doesn’t ship internationally.
  • Yureka offers 3 YA plans. 2 paperbacks is $15 US+sf/month. The $25 US+sf/month option receives either 1 hardcover and 1 paperback book, or 3 paperbacks. The $35 US+sf/month option receives either 1 hardcover and 2 paperback books, or 4 paperback books. Shipping fees are included for the US (I think), $12/$20/$30 US for Canada depending on your plan, and $20/$28/$45 US internationally depending on your plan.

Those are the boxes I will most likely buy at least once in my life, thus my favorites! I hope it enlightens you a little bit!

Other boxes would be : Lit Cube, The YA Chronicles, Book of the Month, etc. However, I didn’t add them to my personal favorites because they’re sooooo expensive. So, nah.

I didn’t add any boxes made in Europe, because their price would be even more exorbitant than the US (for me, in Canada). BUT, if you would like me to give to you the information about other boxes (which would probably be more expensive, made in Europe and/or with fewer items), feel free to contact me! I have info on all of them, actually xD

Thank you for reading this! Feel free to comment or to ask questions 🙂

Wednesday’s Headline : Steena Holmes & Sarah J. Maas

Wednesday’s Headline is a series/feature on my blog where I will share with you my current read and my thoughts and expectations for them!

Hello, guys! This Wednesday, I am reading 2 books again! Go check them out!

[All summaries+pictures are from Goodreads]

  1. Saving Abby by Steena Holmes



All children’s book illustrator Claire Turner ever wanted was to be a mother. After six years of trying to conceive, she and her husband, Josh, have finally accepted that she will never be pregnant with a child of their own.

Yet once they give up hope, the couple gets the miracle they’ve been waiting for. For the first few months of her pregnancy, Claire and Josh are living on cloud nine. But when she begins to experience debilitating headaches, blurred vision, and even fainting spells, the soon-to-be mother goes to the doctor and receives a terrifying diagnosis. Since any treatment could put their unborn baby’s life at risk, the Turners must carefully weigh their limited options. And as her symptoms worsen, Claire will have to make an impossible decision: Save her own life, or save her child’s?

I just started this book, so my expectations are pretty simple: Please let them BOTH live and have a happy ending, please!!!! I want to be teary-eyed while reading this book, and gain a new perspective on life. I hope reading this kind of fiction will teach me something.

I’m reading this book as a part of a blog tour. Stay tuned! 🙂

2. Of Pens and Swords by Rena Rocford



Seventeen-year-old Cyra Berque wants two things in life: a date with Rochan and a chance to fence at the Olympics. But people with one hand don’t normally fence, and girls with big thighs don’t get the boy. Knowing that she wants to make the Olympics, Cyra’s coach sets her up with another coach, one who could take her all the way to the top, but the new coach costs more. Feeling her dreams slipping out of reach, Cyra agrees to tutor a ballerina with a rich father and a D minus in English. It’s triple the pay and triple the pain. The ballerina isn’t interested in passing classes―she wants Rochan, and she’s promised she’ll turn her D minus into a full-fledged F if Cyra doesn’t help her win the heart of Rochan.

I’m just a teeny tiny bit disappointed by the Goodreads rating on this one… so my expectations aren’t high. I just want the romance to be cute, I guess? The plot does seem nice, and I’m hoping it surprises me!

Thank you for reading this! 🙂

ARC Review: Devil and the Bluebird by Jennifer Mason-Black

25796637Title : Devil and the Bluebird

Author : Jennifer Mason-Black

Publisher :Amulet Books

Release date : May 17th, 2016

Rating : 4.5/5

Synopsis (from Goodreads) :

“Devil-at-the-crossroads” folklore finds its way to YA via this moody, magical tale

Blue Riley has wrestled with her own demons ever since the loss of her mother to cancer. But when she encounters a beautiful devil at her town crossroads, it’s her runaway sister’s soul she fights to save. The devil steals Blue’s voice—inherited from her musically gifted mother—in exchange for a single shot at finding Cass.

Armed with her mother’s guitar, a knapsack of cherished mementos, and a pair of magical boots, Blue journeys west in search of her sister. When the devil changes the terms of their deal, Blue must reevaluate her understanding of good and evil and open herself to finding family in unexpected places.

In Devil and the Bluebird, Jennifer Mason-Black delivers a heart-wrenching depiction of loss and hope.

Review :

First of all, thank you to NetGalley and Abrams Kids for providing me with an e-galley of this book!

Wow… Remember my expectations for this book? Well, it met ALL OF THEM perfectly. It’s a one of a kind read!!

Devil and the Bluebird is as sweet and musical as a lullaby. The story is tinged with melancholy, a poem-like nostalgia, and a lovely kind of sadness. We follow Blue Riley’s journey as she’s searching for her sister, but you realize along the way that her journey in itself takes her from person to person, encountering every kind of individuals. Every character, as minor as they might be, are three-dimensional. They are here to add to Blue’s story, yes, but it’s so easy to imagine them having their own lives, and dreams, and problems. Mason-Black has a talent for exploiting her characters to the fullest. As Blue’s trip takes her further away from home, the meaning of true evil is revealed along the way. No, it’s not lurking in the devil’s eyes; Blue encounters good, helpful people, those who want to care for her just because she’s a person in need, but her path also crosses those of the worst kinds.

Blue Riley is a quiet (literally) kind of girl, but who’s burning from the inside. She’s driven, and determined, and flawed and confused. She pushes on, going forward, even when she’s scared and grieving. She’s the little sister attached to her lost family, trying to makes things all right. Although her family’s bonds weren’t conventional, and it wasn’t the perfect family she could have hoped for, she loved them and would do anything for them. I ached for her throughout her entire journey.

As was to be expected, as with any good road trip story, this one is about Blue’s self-discovery. She has always defined herself as a part of her mother, and her mother’s music. But, as she treks through the country, she finds out about where she belongs, and who she is as a whole and independent individual.

Only thing that was odd was, that the devil changed the terms of their deal after they made it. Which I think is against the rules, if I understood Supernatural correctly. But maybe I’m missing something.

Anyway, I highly recommend this book if you’re looking for young adult version of Wild, with music and magic as extras, and mainly centered about family!

P.-S.: Sorry, I posted this review a little late. I meant to post it on the 17th, but another review got the place x)

Picture sources : 1, 2

Book Review: A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas

16096824Title : A Court of Thorns and Roses

Author : Sarah J. Maas

Publisher : Bloomsbury Children’s

Release date : May 5th, 2015

Rating : 4/5

Synopsis (from Goodreads) :

When nineteen-year-old huntress Feyre kills a wolf in the woods, a beast-like creature arrives to demand retribution for it. Dragged to a treacherous magical land she only knows about from legends, Feyre discovers that her captor is not an animal, but Tamlin—one of the lethal, immortal faeries who once ruled their world.

As she dwells on his estate, her feelings for Tamlin transform from icy hostility into a fiery passion that burns through every lie and warning she’s been told about the beautiful, dangerous world of the Fae. But an ancient, wicked shadow grows over the faerie lands, and Feyre must find a way to stop it… or doom Tamlin—and his world—forever.

Review :

**Note: this review is quite long, so I bolded each aspect of the book that I will be talking about. If you don’t particularly care about one aspect, you can always skip to another one, because they’ll be easy to find!

It was long due I read this book, but it didn’t quite meet my expectations. However, I did greatly enjoy it, if only for the male characters, hahahah! Keep reading to know exactly what I liked/disliked about this popular novel! Continue reading