The nerves I had going into sending out the ARCs (advanced reader copies) were out of this world. It’s so scary knowing that you’re asking for honest reviews of your book child from people who read as many books a year as I do, or more. 😂 Because I really respect these reviewers and I know they’re going to tell the truth, because their reputation depends on it.
So, the elation I felt when @outsidewithbooks messaged me and told me she truly loved it, was some of the best feel goods I’ve ever had.
Hi, Readers! This post is specifically for those who have requested a Reviewer Copy of my book, in exchange for an honest review on Amazon and Goodreads.
If you have a Kindle, it’s pretty easy! If not, no worries, there’s an app for that! No, seriously, there’s a Kindle app.
Once you have your eReader, log into your Amazon account to add me as an approved sender to your device. The directions are pictured above.
1) Sign in
2) click the Accounts & Lists drop down menu
3) pick Content and Devices
4) click the header Preferences
5) choose Personal Document Settings
6) click add a new approved email address
My email is Audrey_Destin@yahoo.com
After that I can send you the ARC directly to your kindle email (which you can find in the same section if you don’t know it)
So send me your email, and I’ll send you your ARC! Thanks again for being a part of my Reviewer Team! The book world couldn’t function without you Reviewers. Honest reviews make the book world go round. ❤️ Thank You!
Head to my Amazon Author Page to pre-order Moving Forward Optional for your Kindle today!!! ❤️🥳💕🥳❤️ .. The Kindle pub date is set for October 13th 2020 and you can pre-order any time between now and then! .. I’m so excited to set this baby free and I hope you all love it!! ❤️🥰📚 .. .. .. ..
When a woman loses everything she loves, moving forward doesn’t just happen, it’s a choice.
In a society that rewards ambition and ladder climbing, Emily is homeless. Her ambition is dead.
Dan’s daughter is missing. Emily ran away a year ago after he stumbled into the living room drunk for the last time. Now sober, he spends his days trying to turn that wrong around. Dan can’t stop.
David is losing his home, and his shoe store is barely hanging on, while the market is crashing. His own life is a mess, but the woman he picks up on the side of the road is a great distraction. Emily is beautiful, captivating, and worse off than himself. He takes her to dinner and then on a camping trip. He can’t get enough until he realizes her secrets may be more than he can take.
A women’s fiction about how one lives in a world that continues to turn, without the ambition to go on.
This is Emily’s story. Moving forward is optional.
I’m currently reading this book, A Madness of Sunshine, and I can’t help but feel it’s really lacking in, well, madness. I don’t think that’s the author’s fault, I think it’s this current chaotic world we’re all living in.
At the moment, shortly after I wake up in the morning, I feel a bit like I’ve stepped into a world that’s spinning off its axels. Emotions are firing on all cylinders. I might have a deadly virus, I might not. We can’t walk out of our doors and feel completely safe from this invisible killer.
We’re wearing masks, gloves, and avoiding our friends. We’ve given up sports and school. Our world has gone crazy.
Now, on top of that, we’ve begun rioting and demanding a complete reorganization of our justice system in America. Police stations are quite literally being set on fire. And we’re uncomfortably aware that a percentage of our police have been killing us and filling up for profit prisons with us, without thorough burdens of proof. And there’s a racial bias.
So yeah, when I open a book that’s titled with the word “madness,” what’s inside doesn’t really stack up against reality currently. And that’s where my mind as a writer is right now.
How do we write a book that keeps a reader turning pages, hanging on to every word, when they turn on their phones and televisions to a real life world of chaos? I prefer my chaos in the pages, but let’s be honest writers, we’re going to need to step our game up if we intend to keep our readers engaged! Because life is dishing out some serious competition right about now.
The last time I saw Angelina, her hair was a tangled mess of brown strands that roughly resembled two braids on either side of her head. The smear of a sticky orange sugar glaze lining her mouth was all that was left of the sweet treat she’d bought from the musical van that cruised down our street hours before.
I think about that van often now, I wonder if the skinny unshaven man behind the wheel noticed the way my daughter’s eyes shined. If he too saw the way her cheeks were touched with cherry, as if by an angel’s soft pinch of grace. I wonder if his van served more than just the purpose of alluring children with its siren like song.
This morning I walked the streets of our neighborhood, like I do every morning, like she did that summer day in June, and I noticed house number 2607, the one with the blue shutters and peeling white siding, had their curtains open. The thing about that house is, they never have their curtains open. I’ve told the police this, but they say that means nothing. They can’t get a search warrant for every house that keeps their curtains closed. I’ve thought about walking straight into their house, when the garage opens, or the man is outside mowing the lawn.
But a part of me knows I’ve gone a bit crazy. I comprehend time stopped for me on June 19, 2012. The police tell me, my husband says, the death certificate proves, my baby was killed, two houses down from mine, by a dog that’d escaped its yard. But I don’t understand how that can be true. I’d never seen a dog at that house. I sit here and stare at her little shoes, and I think she can’t really be completely gone. She’s got to be out there. Somewhere. Waiting for me to bring her home.