This is a Bust by Ed Lin #BookTour @robertchow @DogEaredPR

 

 

 

Set in New York’s Chinatown in 1976, this sharp and gritty novel is a mystery set against the backdrop of a city in turmoil
Robert Chow is a Vietnam vet and an alcoholic. He’s also the only Chinese American cop on the Chinatown beat, and the only police officer who can speak Cantonese. But he’s basically treated like a token, trotted out for ribbon cuttings and community events.
So he shouldn’t be surprised when his superiors are indifferent to his suspicions that an old Chinese woman’s death may have actually been a murder. But he sure is angry. With little more than his own demons to fuel him, Chow must take matters into his own hands.
Rich with the details of its time and place, this homage to noir will appeal to fans of S.J. Rozan and Michael Connelly.

 

January 20, 1976. The Hong Kong-biased newspaper ran an editorial about how the Chinese who had just come over were lucky to get jobs washing dishes and waiting tables in Chinatown. Their protest was making all Chinese people look bad. If the waiters didn’t like their wages, they should go ask the communists for jobs and see what happens.Here in America, democracy was going to turn 200 years old in July. But the Chinese waiters who wanted to organize a union were going directly against the principles of freedom that George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, and Abraham Lincoln had fought for.

Those waiters were also disrespecting the previous generations of Chinese who had come over and worked so hard for so little. If it weren’t for our elders, the editorial said, today we would be lumped in with the lazy blacks and Spanish people on welfare.

I folded the newspaper, sank lower in my chair, and crossed my arms. I banged my heels against the floor.

“Just a minute, you’re next! Don’t be so impatient!” grunted Law, one of the barbers. A cigarette wiggled in his mouth as he snipped away on a somber-looking Chinese guy’s head. When he had one hand free, he took his cigarette and crushed it in the ashtray built into the arm cushion of his customer’s chair.

He reached into the skyline of bottles against the mirror for some baby powder. Law sprinkled it onto his hand and worked it into the back of the somber guy’s neck while pulling the sheet off from inside his collar. Clumps of black hair scampered to the floor as he shook off the sheet.

The customer paid. Law pulled his drawer out as far as it would go and tucked the bills into the back. Then he came over to me.

Law had been cutting my hair since I was old enough to want it cut. He was in his early 60s and had a head topped with neatly sculpted snow. His face was still soft and supple, but he had a big mole on the lower side of his left cheek.

You couldn’t help but stare at it when he had his back turned because it stood out in profile, wiggling in sync with his cigarette.

He looked at the newspaper on my lap.

“We should give all those pro-union waiters guns and send them to Vietnam!” Law grunted. “They’ll be begging to come back and bus tables.”

“They wouldn’t be able to take the humidity,” I said.

“That’s right, they’re not tough like you! You were a brave soldier! OK, come over here. I’m ready for you now,” Law said, wiping off the seat. I saw hair stuck in the foam under the ripped vinyl cover, but I sat down anyway. Hair could only make the seat softer.

“I don’t mean to bring it up, but you know it’s a real shame what happened. The Americans shouldn’t have bothered to send in soldiers, they should have just dropped the big one on them. You know, the A-bomb.”

“Then China would have dropped an A-bomb on the United States,” I said.

“Just let them! Commie weapons probably don’t even work!” Law shouted into my right ear as he tied a sheet around my neck.

“They work good enough,” I said.

When Chou En Lai had died two weeks before, the Greater China Association had celebrated with a ton of firecrackers in the street in front of its Mulberry Street offices and handed out candy to the obligatory crowd. The association had also displayed a barrel of fireworks they were going to set off when Mao kicked, which was going to be soon, they promised. Apparently, the old boy was senile and bedridden.

“Short on the sides, short on top,” I said.

“That’s how you have to have it, right? Short all around, right?” Law asked.

“That’s the only way it’s ever been cut.”

If you didn’t tell Law how you wanted your hair, even if you were a regular, he’d give you a Beefsteak Charlie’s haircut, with a part right down the center combed out with a Chinese version of VO5. I was going to see my mother in a few days, and I didn’t want to look that bad.

“Scissors only, right? You don’t like the electric clipper, right?”

“That’s right,” I said. When I hear buzzing by my ears, I want to swat everything within reach. Law’s old scissors creaked through my hair. Sometimes I had to stick my jaw out and blow clippings out of my eyes.

The barbershop’s two huge plate glass windows cut into each other at an acute angle in the same shape as the street. Out one window was the sunny half of Doyers Street. The other was in the shade. How many times had I heard that this street was the site of tong battles at the turn of the century? How many times had I heard tour guides say that the barbershop was built on the “Bloody Angle”?

The barbershop windows were probably the original ones, old enough so they were thicker at the bottom than at the top. They distorted images of people from the outside, shrinking heads and bloating asses. In the winters, steam from the hot shampoo sink covered the top halves of the windows like lacy curtains in an abandoned house.

In back of me, a bulky overhead hair dryer whined like a dentist’s drill on top of a frowning woman with thick glasses getting a perm.

The barbers had to shout to hear each other. The news station on the radio was nearly drowned out. The only time you could hear it was when they played the xylophone between segments or made the dripping-sink sounds.

If you knew how to listen for it, you could sometimes hear the little bell tied to the broken arm of the pneumatic pump on the door. The bell hung from a frayed loop of red plastic tie from a bakery box. When the bell went off, one or two barbers would yell out in recognition of an old head.

The bell went off, and Law yelled right by my ear.

“Hey!” he yelled. Two delayed “Hey”s went off to my left and right. The chilly January air swept through the barbershop. A thin man in a worn wool coat heaved the door closed behind him and twisted off his felt hat. His hands were brown, gnarled, and incredibly tiny, like walnut shells. He fingered the brim of his hat and shifted uneasily from foot to foot, but made no motion to take off his coat or drop into one of the four empty folding chairs by the shadow side of Doyers. He swept his white hair back, revealing a forehead that looked like a mango gone bad.

“My wife just died,” he said. If his lungs hadn’t been beat up and dusty like old vacuum-cleaner bags, it would have been a shout. “My wife died,” he said again, as if he had to hear it to believe it. The hairdryer shut down.

“Oh,” said Law. “I’m sorry.” He went on with my hair. No one else said anything. Someone coughed. Law gave a half-grin grimace and kept his head down, the typical stance for a Chinese man stuck in an awkward situation. The radio babbled on.

The barbers just wanted to cut hair and have some light conversation about old classmates and blackjack. Why come here to announce that your wife had died? The guy might as well have gone to the Off Track Betting joint on Bowery around the corner. No one was giving him any sympathy here.

Death was bad luck. Talking about death was bad luck. Listening to someone talk about death was bad luck. Who in Chinatown needed more bad luck?

“What should I do?” the thin man asked. He wasn’t crying, but his legs were shaking. I could see his pant cuffs sweep the laces of his polished wing tips. “What should I do?” he asked again. The xylophone on the radio went off.

I stood up and swept the clippings out of my hair. The bangs were longer on one side of my head. I slipped the sheet off from around my neck and coiled it onto the warmth of the now-vacant seat. Law opened a drawer, dropped in his scissors, and shut it with his knee. He leaned against his desk and fumbled for a cigarette in his shirt pocket.

I blew off the hair from my shield and brushed my legs off. I pushed my hat onto my head.

“Let’s go,” I told the thin man.

 

Ed Lin, a native New Yorker of Taiwanese and Chinese descent, is the first author to win three Asian American Literary Awards and is an all-around standup kinda guy. His books include Waylaid, and a trilogy set in New York’s Chinatown in the 70s: This Is a Bust, Snakes Can’t Run and One Red Bastard. Ghost Month, published by Soho Crime in July 2014, is a Taipei-based mystery, and Incensed, published October 2016, continues that series.
Lin lives in Brooklyn with his wife, actress Cindy Cheung, and son.
Connect with Ed at http://www.edlinforpresident.com or on social media at:

Monday, July 17
Book featured at Cheryl’s Book Nook
Book featured at Chill and Read
Guest blogging at Mythical Books

Tuesday, July 18
Interviewed at I’m Shelf-ish
Book featured at Elise’s Audiobook Digest
Book featured at Books, Dreams, Life

Wednesday, July 19
Guest blogging at Must Read Faster
Book featured at Diana’s Book Reviews
Interviewed at Harmonious Publicity

Thursday, July 20
Book featured at The Writers’ Life
Book featured at Stormy Nights Reviewing
Interviewed at As the Page Turns

Friday, July 21
Book featured at Lynn’s Romance Enthusiasm
Guest blogging at Thoughts in Progress

Sunday, July 23
Book featured at T’s Stuff
Interviewed at The Literary Nook

Monday, July 24
Book featured at A Title Wave
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Tuesday, July 25
Book featured at The Angel’s Pearl
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Wednesday, July 26
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Thursday, July 27
Book featured at The Dark Phantom

Friday, July 28
Book featured at A Book Lover
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I love this quote, Diana
“I’m wondering what to read next.” — Matilda, Roald Dahl

Girl on the Verge by Pintip Dunn #ReleaseBlitz @pintipdunn @chapterxchapter

Release Week Blitz: Girl on the Verge by Pintip Dunn – Excerpt and Giveaway

 

Hello Readers! Welcome to the Release Week Blitz for

Girl on the Verge by Pintip Dunn!

Check out the excerpt below, and
be sure to enter the giveaway found at the end of the post!

 

Congratulations Pintip!!

 

 

 

From the author of The Darkest Lie comes a compelling, provocative story for fans of I Was Here and Vanishing Girls, about a high school senior straddling two worlds, unsure how she fits in either—and the journey of self-discovery that leads her to surprising truths.

In her small Kansas town, at her predominantly white school, Kanchana doesn’t look like anyone else. But at home, her Thai grandmother chides her for being too westernized. Only through the clothing Kan designs in secret can she find a way to fuse both cultures into something distinctly her own.

When her mother agrees to provide a home for a teenage girl named Shelly, Kan sees a chance to prove herself useful. Making Shelly feel comfortable is easy at first—her new friend is eager to please, embraces the family’s Thai traditions, and clearly looks up to Kan. Perhaps too much. Shelly seems to want everything Kanchana has, even the blond, blue-eyed boy she has a crush on. As Kan’s growing discomfort compels her to investigate Shelly’s past, she’s shocked to find how much it intersects with her own—and just how far Shelly will go to belong…

Girl on the Verge by Pintip Dunn
Publication Date: June 27, 2017
Publisher: Kensington

Google Drive | BAM | Chapters | Amazon | B&N | Kobo | TBD | iBooks

 

 

 

“Hey. Look at me, please.” I nudge her shoulder, and she lifts her tear-stained face. “I messed up tonight. But it won’t happen again. No boy is going to come between us. I promised.”

She widens her eyes. “You still plan to keep your word?”

“Of course. I don’t make promises just for the hell of it, you know.”

A smile ghosts across her lips, but I can tell she’s still hurt. My heart contracts even more. “I’m here for you, Shelly. How can I prove that?”

“Well, there is one thing. . . .” She glances over her shoulder, although no one else is here. “Never mind. You’re going to think it’s silly. Forget I said anything.”

“I won’t. We’re friends, right? You can tell me anything, and I won’t think you’re silly.”

She takes a deep breath. “Okay. Fine.” The words tumble out. “It’s something I’ve always wanted to do, ever since I was a kid. Problem was, I never had anyone to do it with.”

“What is it?”

“I want us to be blood sisters.”

A chill creeps up my spine. Blood sisters? As in, my blood mixed with hers? This is unsanitary at best, deadly at worst.

“You hate the idea, don’t you?” she moans. “Forget it. I knew it was silly. . . .”

“No, no. You just surprised me, that’s all.” My mind spins, as I try to think of how to respond. “I don’t have anything against the idea, in theory. But you know all that stuff we’ve heard, about AIDS and other diseases and infections. Maybe I’m just being silly. . . .”

“Hey, it’s a valid concern. And I could tell you I’m clean, but you can never be too sure, right?” She wrinkles her forehead. “I’ve got it! We can do our own modified version. We’ll drop our blood onto a clean surface and let the liquid mix there. That way, we’ve performed the ceremony, but we’re still protecting ourselves. What do you think?”

“Um . . .” NO! my mind screams. Every cell in my body rebels against the thought. Mixing our blood is just gross. And weird. There’s nothing in me that wants any part of this. I rack my brain, searching for a reason, any reason at all that won’t offend her.

“Look, I know we only met a couple weeks ago,” Shelly says in a small voice, “but I feel this connection with you. Like we were always meant to be friends. This ceremony represents that. You’re my sister, through and through.”

I take a deep breath. This idea she’s suggesting is more than a little creepy. But Shelly’s been through such a rough time lately. It’s not going to kill me to drop a little blood on a cutting board. If it makes her happy, I should just say yes. It’s not that big a deal . . . even if it makes all the hair stand up on my neck.

“Okay, fine,” I say, before I can change my mind. “Let’s do it.”

 

 

 

Pintip is a New York Times bestselling author of YA fiction. She graduated from Harvard University, magna cum laude, with an A.B. in English Literature and Language. She received her J.D. at Yale Law School, where she was an editor of the YALE LAW JOURNAL.

Pintip’s first novel, FORGET TOMORROW won the RWA RITA® award for Best First Book. Her other novels include THE DARKEST LIE, REMEMBER YESTERDAY, and the novella, BEFORE TOMORROW. She is represented by literary agent Beth Miller of Writers House.

She lives with her husband and children in Maryland.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram | Goodreads

 

 

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 I love this quote, Diana
“I’m wondering what to read next.” — Matilda, Roald Dahl

Melancholy Ghost by Kat Mayor #BookBlitz @lolasblogtours @MontemayorKat

Melancholy Ghost banner
This is my stop during the book blitz for Melancholy Ghost by Kat Mayor. This book blitz is organized by Lola’s Blog Tours. The book blitz runs from 21 till 27 February. You can see the blitz schedule here.

Melancholy GhostMelancholy Ghost
By Kat Mayor
Genre: Paranormal
Age category: Adult
Release Date: 14 February, 2017

Blurb:
From ghost hunter to ghost, haunted.

Barrett has a plan—help Austin regain his memory, surround him with his friends and loved ones, and lead him into the light. Unfortunately, the tragic investigation of a melancholy ghost derails everything.

As new lead investigator, Thai struggles to maintain the high ratings SCI has always enjoyed. After a few subpar investigations, the network execs demand results, even if it means the team must put their lives on the line for a house more deadly than its dead occupants.

There are worse things than being dead.

Austin knows something is wrong. Most people ignore him, time eludes him, and his hands are basically worthless. If only he could remember what happened, he would have the answers he so desperately seeks. He’s sick of Barrett’s lies and Casey’s deflections. Austin will have to figure this one out on his own. Will the truth set him free, or destroy his soul?

You can find Melancholy Ghost on Goodreads

You can buy Melancholy Ghost here:
Amazon
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Melancholy Ghost Teaser

Start this series with The Spirit Chaser! Only 0.99$!
The Spirit Chaser
Some places are too evil. Some places should be left alone.The Spirit Chaser is only 0.99$, so you can start this series for cheap. You can buy The Spirit Chaser on Amazon.

Kat MayorAbout the Author:
I am a native Texan, wife, and mom. In addition to The Spirit Chaser, I have written a young adult series, The Circle. I’m a full-time reader, part-time writer, and when I’m not kicking a story around in my head, I love to read and review books on Goodreads.

You can find and contact Kat Mayor here:
Website
Facebook
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Giveaway
There is a tour wide giveaway for the book blitz of Melancholy Ghost. This giveaway is open international. These are the prizes you can win:
– One 50$ Amazon gift card and paperback copies of The Spirit Chaser and Melancholy Ghost.
– One 25$ Amazon gift card and e-books of The Spirit Chaser and Melancholy Ghost.

For a chance to win, enter the rafflecopter below:
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I love this quote, Diana
“I’m wondering what to read next.” — Matilda, Roald Dahl

Chicago Syndicate Series Books 1-5 Limited Edition by Soraya Naomi #ReleaseBlast

release day blitz

Book Title: Chicago Syndicate Series (Limited Edition Books 1-5)
Author: Soraya Naomi
Genre: Contemporary Romance/Romantic Suspense
Release Date: February 14, 2017
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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book blurb

WINNER Semi Annual Literary Awards Novel Grounds: “For Fallon” Best Breakout Novel 2014.

Limited Edition: all 5 novels from contemporary mafia romance Chicago Syndicate series.

Meet the women who fell in love with the high ranking men of the most powerful mafia in Chicago, The Syndicate. Each story is a sinfully seductive blend of lust, love, deceit, lies, and men who love hard…at all costs.

For Fallon (1): the tumultuous love story of civilian Fallon & underboss Luca.
For Luca (2): continuation of Fallon & Luca.
For Adriano (3): the illicit love story of “escaped” Cam & Capo Adriano.
For Cam (4): continuation of Cam & Adriano.
For Logan (5): the forbidden love story of mafia princess Rosalia and agent Logan (a complete standalone).

A contemporary romantic suspense. A mafia romance.

From Amazon Bestselling Author Soraya Naomi.

#1 Organized Crime 2014.

excerpt

Excerpt NA Mafia Romance For Logan (Chicago Syndicate, 5 – can be read as standalone) by Soraya Naomi – Release Date August 27, 2016

PROLOGUE

Rosalia

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” I confess in the small booth and shut my eyes, causing two tears to roll down my cheeks in regret.

Sometimes we take risks and they don’t play out as we expected, but it’s better to regret something you did do than to regret something you didn’t do. Living with what could’ve been is far worse.

“You haven’t sinned,” a familiar, deep voice comments.

My gaze shoots up to the lattice screen in time to see Logan exiting the compartment. He yanks open my door, and I’m met with stormy, sapphire eyes – the color of a cloudless sky – that have haunted my dreams for many nights as he steps forward, but I push him out of the confessional with both of my palms on his hard chest.

“Where have you been?” I demand, wiping my tears away angrily.

As my vision clears, I’m astounded by how much he reminds me of the man I fell in love with. His navy dress shirt is tucked into his slacks, showing off his toned torso. Nonetheless, this is the man who is my Heaven and my Hell. My current Hell; but the time we lived in Heaven together isn’t easily forgotten.

He studies me for a long moment, as if I’m a figment of his imagination. Then he runs his fingers through his dirty blond hair and messes up the strands, making him much too appealing in his anguish.

“Rosa,” he says in a tormented tone. Reaching for me, he cups the back of my head and threads his fingers through my long black hair.

His sandalwood cologne invades my nostrils and brings back memories that are best left in some dusty corner of my mind. He lowers his forehead to mine, and I clutch his shirt as the passion he incites in me still pumps furiously through my veins. While we stare at each other, his thumb strokes the dimple on my cheek.

“I should hate you,” I mumble, confused.

“No. I’ve come to explain.”

“Explain what? You broke my heart and left. Everything’s ruined!”

“I had to leave to set things straight and make sure I didn’t get killed in the process, Rosa,” he snarls. Yet, in a softer tone, he adds, “But I had to see if you’re okay.”

We’re standing face-to-face, and as he tilts my head up, I recognize the flame of love in his dark irises. As usual, we lose control the second his mouth slants over mine. Logan’s lips urge mine apart, guiding me hungrily into his masterful kiss. He commands my emotions with the heat of his touch. One large hand covers my ass while he palms my head, and on their own accord, my arms wind around his neck. Our teeth clash and our tongues dance in a teasing foray – desperately recapturing a love that others tried to extinguish.

Growling, he lifts me up into his arms effortlessly. My jade knee-length dress rides up my hips when I hook my legs around him before he carries me to the church’s elevated altar, surrounded by devotional statues and lit candles. I’m shoved onto the two-step carpeted stairs in front of the altar while we grind into each other.

Logan nips a path up my throat as I gaze up at the painted angels on the dome ceiling, and he pulls my lips between his teeth, biting the corner of my mouth.

“I need to fuck you,” he groans huskily, pressing his rock-hard erection against me.

We’re both breathing heavily, forgetting where we are – in the Parish of the Blessed, in the middle of the day, with people inside the sacristy.

This is what he’s done to me. Even after everything, I’m unable to deny him. I’ve chosen to plummet into a world of sensual awakening with him once before, and I’m choosing it again.

We’ve always been reckless. We’ve broken a family apart. And now, we’re tempted to fuck in the church where the wedding will take place in less than twenty-four hours.

teasers

 

meet the author

I read many genres but favor intense, seductive, and provocative novels where the male character loves fiercely, without remorse or boundaries. I also adore forbidden love tales and have an odd fascination with kidnapping romances. No, I don’t secretly want to be kidnapped, though!

I have a passionate obsession with the written word and indulge in chocolate pastries much too often.

My debut novel For Fallon (Chicago Syndicate, #1) was released on July 26, 2014. I’m honored that For Fallon won “Best Breakout Novel 2014” in the Novel Grounds Semi Annual Literary Awards.

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 I love this quote, Diana
“I’m wondering what to read next.” — Matilda, Roald Dahl

Book Review: The Ulterior Motive by Jack Coleston #BookReview @JackColeston @ReadForReview

The Ulterior Motive By Jack Coleston

Blurb

The fate of the United States hangs in the balance and only a select few can prevent the impending disaster.

Stanley Carmichael is an intelligent and hard-working member of the Central Intelligence Agency. Yet, he never expected to be named Deputy Director of the CIA so soon in his career. Nonetheless, he finds himself stepping into shoes that feel impossible to fill.

Anna Carmichael is a legend. She’s one of the fiercest ex-members of the Special Activities Division, where she saw more than enough blood and war for a lifetime. Now, she’s still CIA, but stuck behind a desk and bored. Luckily for her, it seems her fieldwork isn’t done yet. For as soon as Anna’s partnered with rookie FBI Special Agent Blayze Phillips, she realizes his investigation is a lot more dangerous than it seems—especially when it turns its attention to the mysterious Caliph al-Maqasid.
They know that the Caliph spent the last few years successfully uniting fractured terrorist groups in the Middle East. Now he’s formed the most well-funded, strategically efficient operation that’s on its way to becoming a true global caliphate. But who is the Caliph, really? Why doesn’t anyone know anything about this infinitely clever, charismatic, and terrifying man? And what, exactly, is he plotting next?

The Carmichaels will have to work together to find out, because the Caliph is about to strike at the heart of America

Amazon 

My Review

The Ulterior Motive by Jack Coleston if a very fast pace, action packed political thriller.

This book was very intense and fascinating. I thought the author did a great job with the characters. Some characters were developed and some were just in the background. I had no problems keeping up with this story.

What really intrigued me was the fact that Anna is a very strong alpha type character and her husband Stanley really wasn’t, he is the desk type person. I loved how these characters were developed. There isn’t much history about Anna, (maybe next book?) but her husband Stanley we our told more about him. I really liked both characters and I am pretty sure that is what kept me interested along with all the action.

If you love Political Thrillers this is a really great book to read. Very fast paced and lots of action. I love watching and reading stuff that has CIA and action in them. I had no problems picture this story in my head while reading it. There was no swear words that I can recall in this story.

I voluntarily read a Review Copy of this book. All opinions stated are solely my own and no one else’s.

I gave this book 5 stars because the story exceeded my exception and was well worth my time reading.

I love this quote, Diana
“I’m wondering what to read next.” — Matilda, Roald Dahl

Book Review: Fame and Fortune Tellers A Novel by Todd Netland #BookReview @ToddSNetland

Fame and Fortune Tellers

A Novel by Todd Netland

Amazon

Blurb

Todd Netland’s book, “Fame and Fortune Tellers,” is the story of one man’s rise to the top, almost overnight, in the music business. Randy Miller is a young choral teacher who encounters a spiritualist at the tag end of a mini-vacation who prophesizes a sudden rise to stardom for this school choir teacher. These predictions come true, but it turns out to be a life of emptiness, joylessness, and conflict for Randy and his family. Other characters enter into the story who all come together as the main plot and subplots of the story thicken and unfold. Meet Brad Applebaum, a young Christian who is very green in the things of the Lord and of life in general, but very zealous about his walk with God. Pam Jackson is an on-fire Christian and a true prayer warrior. Darryl Temple is a total loser who ends up completely destroying his life. And then there is Eric Burns, leader of the Communist revolutionary group, The Red Riding Rangers. This novel involves choices of different people and how these choices have repercussions, both in this life, and in the life to come.

My Review

When I started reading Fame and Fortune Tellers by Todd Netland, I had a hard time putting the book down.  I was young when this story took place.  Since I was 10 I have always loved rock n roll, and I was partly raised in the spiritualism community of that time period, depending on who I was living with. So, for me I understand how easy the occult can bring you into their world.

I found the book very intriguing and easy to read. The author was very thorough in developing the characters. It was easy to remember the characters story.  I loved the scripture quotes.  I loved the description of Heaven and Hell. Though I thought it was kind of long and I did get a little bored. I am thinking too much detail. I could visualize what the author was trying to describe.  I always love when the author does an epilogue I feel it completes the story. There are end notes and about the author which I love because that lets me as a reader know more about the story.

I feel this is a really interesting, and  exciting Christian book to read. I gave 4 stars because it seemed a little long in the middle. The book is worth reading in my opinion.

I voluntarily read a Review Copy of this book. All opinions stated are solely my own and no one else’s.

Amazon

I love this quote, Diana
“I’m wondering what to read next.” — Matilda, Roald Dahl