Review – Toyworld: Home of the Christmas Thief by Tony Bertauski @tonybertauski

Posted on November 1, 2022 by fundinmental

NEW RELEASE

MY REVIEW

I have been reading books in Tony Bertauski’s Claus Universe since Claus: Legend of the Fat Man came out in 2012. I have missed some of the books, but I am always eager to enter the fantasy realm Tony as created.

Hiro’s world expands when he finds the dreams he has been having are of Toyworld. He finds friends he never would have made, danger that could keep him trapped in Toyworld, and the reason the real world is so gray and dreary. Christmas has disappeared. Hope and happiness has been stolen.

Dreams aren’t just dreams, they’re windows. Not windows, doorways. Most nights we’re just looking through the, seeing what’s over there. But you can crawl through a window if you open it.

People say anything is possible even when we know it isn’t true.

It’s hard to review a book like Toyworld by Tony Bertauski without giving all the good parts away. The adventure is definitely something a reader would want to experience on their own. The world building is out of this world. HA HA HA The descriptions are vivid and detailed. The characters are richly developed, and, if you are anything like me, you will find it hard to choose a favorite. They all have a role to play and it will take all of them to save Christmas.

Can the villain be redeemed? Isn’t that always the question?

I find it hard to name an age group. I got lost in the adventure, but it has been so long since I have had a youngster in my home that I can’t remember their reading level. I did some searching, so I would recommend middle grade and up.

I voluntarily reviewed a free copy of Toyworld: Home of the Christmas Thief by Tony Bertauski.

Animated Animals. Pictures, Images and Photos — 4 Stars

GOODREADS BLURB

Book 10 in the Claus Universe.

Hiro’s parents rearrange the furniture every December.

They make space in the corner for something tall. They plug in string lights and leave them on the floor. Sometimes, they cut down a tree but don’t know what to do with it. It’s not just Hiro’s parents. Everyone does it. Come January, they all straighten up their living rooms and everything goes back to normal. They do this every year.

No one knows why.

Something’s missing and they all feel it, but they never wonder what it is. And every year that passes, the world becomes colder and grayer. Until Hiro has a dream.

It’s a world of magic, where he can taste sounds and hear thoughts, see things that defy the laws of physics and biology. It’s a place where trees are decorated and stockings are hung above the fireplace. Every day is celebrated with gifts.

It’s the last place where joy exists.

Someone has stolen the Christmas spirit from the universe and hidden it in the dream. Hiro doesn’t remember a jolly fat man or flying reindeer, or elves on the North Pole. No one in Hiro’s world remembers Christmas at all.

Hiro and others like him need to free the Christmas spirit. This is their one and only chance. If they fail, his world and all others like it will stay cold and gray without Christmas… unless they discover the thief’s true identity.

It’s closer than they think.

ABOUT TONY BERTAUSKI

Get my books FREE. Tell me where to send them at http://bertauski.com

My grandpa never graduated high school. He retired from a steel mill in the mid-70s. He was uneducated, but he was a voracious reader. I remember going through his bookshelves of paperback sci-fi novels, smelling musty old paper, pulling Piers Anthony and Isaac Asimov off shelf and promising to bring them back. I was fascinated by robots that could think and act like people. What happened when they died?

I’ve written textbooks on landscape design, but that was straightforward, informational writing; the kind of stuff that helps most people get to sleep. I’ve also been writing a gardening column with a humorous slant. That takes a little more finesse, but still informational for the most part.

I’m a cynical reader. I demand the writer sweep me into his/her story and carry me to the end. I’d rather sail a boat than climb a mountain. That’s the sort of stuff I wanted to write, not the assigned reading we used to get in high school. I wanted to create stories that kept you up late.

Fiction, GOOD fiction, is hard to write. Having a story unfold inside your head is an experience different than reading. You connect with characters in a deeper, more meaningful way. You feel them, empathize with them, cheer for them and even mourn. The challenge is to get the reader to experience the same thing, even if it’s only a fraction of what the writer feels. Not so easy.

MY TONY BERTAUSKI REVIEWS

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Giveaway & Review – Grady Whill and the Templeton Codex by Carole P Roman @caroleproman @GoddessFish

Posted on November 1, 2022 by fundinmental

Amazon / Goodreads

Grady Whill and the Templeton Codex by Carole P. Roman

GENRE: YA adventure

MY REVIEW

Grady is in middle school with his best friend Aarush, who is on the autistic spectrum.

Kids…autistic, asthmatic, overweight, bullies, insecurity…This coming of age fantasy has it all. I was captivated with the world and characters that Carole P Roman has created. I loved watching them learn and grow.

Grady, Aarush and many of their classmates want to go to Templeton Academy, a place to discover your ‘hidden talents and develop them into formidable powers.’ Sounds a bit Hatty Potterish, doesn’t it?

The kids who gravitated to Grady learned to work together for a common goal. I can see a moral to the story and I feel all who read Grady Whill will leave with a smile on their face.

It is hard to describe the story without spoiling it, but I will say it was…unputdownable.

I voluntarily reviewed a free copy of Grady Whill and the Templeton Codex by Carole P Roman.

BLURB

Templeton Academy- the superhero high school is finally open!

The prestigious academy is recruiting the best of the best to enroll in its student body.

The school is as mysterious as it is exclusive.

Grady Whill thinks there is nothing special about him to make the grade.

However, his best friend, Aarush Patel has been selected and thinks Grady has the right stuff.

Even school bully Elwood Bledsoe is attending.

If Grady is fortunate enough to be picked, his guardian has forbidden him to attend.

Will a family secret prevent Grady from becoming the superhero he was destined to be?

EXCERPT

There Whill Be Blood

A barely cooled lump of lava hardened under my feet. One of my sneakers was stuck between two small rocks in the solidifying mess. I stared at my foot in disbelief. Instinct told me I should be a human torch, my legs nothing more than toasted stumps. I glanced up, my heart beating wildly. We were trapped on the side of the mountain facing our school, separated by a burning sea of molten rocks.

The world around me steamed, the lava staining the sky burnt orange. Trees swallowed by molten rock looked like skeletal hands emerging from a grave that glowed beneath the blackened crust. I saw heat waves shimmering from the earth but felt none of its intensity. I pulled fiercely, feeling my ankle twist. Aarush steadied me as I nearly toppled over. He was shirtless, his back slick with sweat and covered with scrapes. His fingers worked feverishly to free my foot.

Overhead two helicopter-sized pterodactyls circled the craggy summit. The wind from their leathery wings buffeted the two of us. I think the air they circulated stopped the patches of lava from cooking us alive, but what do I know?

“We better get moving, Grady. Leave your sneaker. We are risking getting burned by staying too long in one spot.” The ever-practical Aarush reasoned as he pulled the velcro releasing my foot. I wobbled, then fell to one knee.

“Do you think they’re real?” I hollered to my friend over the noise, pointing upward.

AUTHOR Bio and Links

Carole P. Roman is the award-winning author of over fifty children’s books. Whether it’s pirates, princesses, spies, or discovering the world around us, her books have enchanted educators, parents, and her diverse audience of children of all ages.

Her best-selling book, The Big Book of Silly Jokes for Kids: 800+ Jokes! has reached number one on Amazon in March of 2020 and has remained in the top 200 books since then.

She published Mindfulness for Kids with J. Robin Albertson-Wren.

Carole has co-authored two self-help books. Navigating Indieworld: A Beginners Guide to Self-Publishing and Marketing with Julie A. Gerber, and Marketing Indieworld with both Julie A. Gerber and Angela Hausman.

Roman is the CEO of a global transportation company, as well as a practicing medium.

She also writes adult fiction under the name Brit Lunden and has created an anthology of the mythical town of Bulwark, Georgia with a group of indie authors.

Writing is her passion and one of her favorite pastimes. Roman reinvents herself frequently, and her family calls her the ‘mother of reinvention.’ She resides on Long Island, near her children and grandchildren.

Website / Facebook / Twitter / Blog

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MY CAROLE P ROMAN/ BRIT LUNDEN REVIEWS

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Giveaway – Don’t You Forget About Me by Naima Simone @XpressoTours @Naima_Simone

Posted on November 1, 2022 by fundinmental

Don’t You Forget About Me
Naima Simone
(Love on the Radio, #2)
Publication date: November 1st 2022
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Whoever said be careful what you wish for had a serious gift for understatement.

As one of the world’s hugest musicians I’d seen and had it all. Sold out tours. Awards. Fame. Money. Women… And I’d almost lost it all. Epically.

Now I’m back home. A broken, burned out, desperate rock star…and a single father. I returned to give my son a family, stability. To figure out my life. But coming home meant seeing her.

The woman who was once my everything. Who made life in this too small town bearable. Who I loved with my whole heart…my whole body. But long held secrets forced me to leave nine years ago. Forced me to abandon her. And she’s never forgiven me.

Still…

I’ve never forgotten her or the heat between us that burned so hot we damn near went up in flames with it. And I want it again. And again. Even knowing the past will only tear us apart once more…

Goodreads / Amazon

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SNEAK PEEK:

I enter Hunt Auto’s breakroom, closing the door behind us. As soon as the lock engages, Lennon whirls around, and I shift my gaze from her infuriated glare to over her head.

Just for a minute.

Because Jesus… She’s f*cking gorgeous.

My fingers itch to sink into those beautiful, thick curls, hold her steady while I desecrate that wide, lush mouth. The knit of her dress pays homage to every curve and dip of her body, molding to her high, firm breasts, the sensual flare of her hips, the thickness of her thighs. And fUck if I can’t feel the heels of her knee-high boots in my lower back.

At twenty I’d barely had the opportunity to explore the searing sexuality and lust that had existed between us before I had to leave. Barely had my fill of that violets and musk scent that was more intoxicating than the best top-shelf alcohol. My stomach aches with hunger for a woman whose particular flavor is still as fresh, as potent to me as it was ten years ago.

“What in the hell are you thinking?” she snaps, then flicks her gaze towards the closed door. She lowers her voice without losing any of the venom. “Do you know what you just did?”

“Yeah.” I drag my gaze from the wall and meet hers. Not daring to glance below her chin. No, f*ck that. Her nose. “I stopped you from driving while you were upset. And don’t try lying to me,” I interrupt when her lips part to do just that—lie. “You were upset. Still are. Don’t ask me to see you hurting and walk away, whether it’s my business or not. Don’t ask me to do it.”

“Why not?” She jerks her gaze back to me, and I go solid. “You do it so well. You’re a pro at it.”

I stare at her. At the tautness of the skin over her cheekbones. The darkness in her eyes. She’s a bomb set on emotional detonate, and the masochist that I am, I want all that shrapnel embedded in my skin. I want her to draw my blood.

“Don’t stop now. Let it out, baby. You’re right. I left you. Didn’t look back. Didn’t give a f*ck,” I lie.

“You don’t give a f*ck about anyone but yourself. You never did. You used me and then threw me away,” she rasps.

“Yeah, I did. Now what?” I keep shoving at her, even though guilt slides through me like filth. “You want me to apologize? To crawl on my knees and grovel? To beg?”

“Yes.” Her whisper echoes in the room as if she shouted it. “I want to see you hurt, sorry, suffering. Just like when you left me broken. You didn’t give a damn then so don’t pretend you do now. Nothing about you has changed, King. Not one thing. And I hate you for it. I hate you for not once looking back at the wreckage you left behind you. I hate you for going on with life and living it like I never mattered while I had to face reminders and memories of you every time I walked out my front door. I hate you…” Her voice hoarsens, and she crosses her arms over her chest, bowing her head. “I hate you because you gave another woman what you promised me. A family. Gunner could’ve been ours. Should’ve been ours. But you stole one more dream from me.”

F*ck.

F*ck.

It doesn’t occur to me not to touch her.

Eliminating the space between us, I pull her into my arms.

“King, don’t…” Her whisper ends on a sob, and I tighten my hold on her, pressing my lips to her hair.

“No. I can’t. There’s no way I can let you go right now.” I inhale her, take her so deep into my lungs, her scent burns me, marks me. Rubbing my mouth over her hair, I beg just like she wanted me to. “Let go, Len. Let go and allow me to be the one who carries you through it. Lean on me, baby. Just for a little while.”

Her fists ball into my shirt, stretching the material at my waist. She rolls her forehead against my chest, and her jagged breaths scorch me through my clothes. I slide a hand up her spine, cupping the back of her neck, squeezing it.

As if that unlocks something inside her, her shoulders shake and seconds later, her cries rip through the room. She crushes her cheek against me, and her tears dampen my shirt and skin. Stroking her back with one hand, I cradle her head with the other, fingers tunneling under the bun to scratch her scalp.

How long she sobs in my arms, I’m not certain. Minutes, hours. A lifetime. It’s not long enough. Curling my body over her, I brush my mouth over her ear.

“I left, yes. But I did look back. So many damn times. And never, ever did I stop giving a f*ck,” I softly admit.

Her breath shudders against my chest, and locking down a groan, I lift my hands to her face, tilting it back. Her eyes, moist with all the tears she’s shed, meet mine. Even with her face wet and swollen, she’s beautiful to me.

“Liar,” she accuses, voice so rough, it’s nearly painful to hear. “You’re such a liar.”

Then she raises on her toes and crushes her mouth to mine.

Author Bio:

Published since 2009, USA Today Bestselling author Naima Simone loves writing sizzling romances with heart, a touch of humor and snark. Her books have been featured in The Washington Post and Entertainment Weekly, and described as balancing “crackling, electric love scenes with exquisitely rendered characters caught in emotional turmoil.”

She is wife to Superman, or his non-Kryptonian, less bullet proof equivalent, and mother to the most awesome kids ever. They all live in perfect, sometimes domestically-challenged bliss in the southern United States.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / Newsletter

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