Monday, February 20, 2017
Saturday, February 18, 2017
Title of the book :
(A Hilarious Coming of Age Series Book1)
Author : Paromita Goswami
Genre : Middle School, Teen and YA
1) HOW OLD ARE YOU?
I am five year old. But that’s just officially. Technically I consider myself almost nine years old. Most of my friends are older to me.
2) WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE TOY?
I love playing outdoors with my friends. It’s more fun outside, climbing up the trees or go swimming in the river. But I also yearn for my Talking Doll which Ma will be getting for me soon.
3) WHAT MAKES YOU SO MESSY?
I am not Messy. It is Raju who teases me by calling me that and I hate him for it. Now all my friends have started calling me Messy. I know I mess up work sometimes but not always.
4) CHOCOLATE OR VANILLA?
Hmm..Can I have both?
I love the langar Tadka Dal and Roti. And of course the tasty Panjiri Prasad which Panditji gives in the temple.
6) FAVORITE COLOR?I love blue. All the shades. Especially the clear blue sky in the morning.
Childhood is considered to be the best time of one’s life. What if you get a chance to live it once more with a five-year-old?
Misry, a naughty five-year-old girl, lives with her parents in a B.S.F border outpost near Indo-Bangladesh border. But with no schools and friends she feels very lonely. She tries to befriend some local village kids. But they find her incompetent in their rural antics. They nickname her Messy as most of the time she messes up their plan. Can Misry really be a part of the gang?
Set in the early eighties, join Misry in the adventures of her life.
Thursday, February 16, 2017
Wednesday, February 15, 2017
Tuesday, February 14, 2017
❤HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY ❤
In the spirit of being realistic, I chose to invite an author whose love story kicks off with the setting of sports; which was a very clever way to infuse sexual tension in the characters. I liked that it is a story of mature love, people who are aware of who they are, but who are flawed and make things interesting.
Here is one male reader's opinion, my review and a couple of questions answered by the author.
Most guys probably aren't going to think to pick this book up and give it a read. Well, you'd be missing a great opportunity if you pass this one by! What Ms. Thatcher has done is breathe new life into an old topic - romance. The blending of sports, the legal profession and the love of a cherished pet, among many other elements, gives this story a great lift. The story starts off at, of all places, a softball game, yet Ms. Thatcher does not lack the skill to describe this game. We then shift to following the lives, and eventual romance of the two lead characters, Liz and Ty. We can empathize quite heavily with both of them, with their foibles and their scars they've carried through life. The imagery that describes the greater Boston area is superb. The story probably succeeds most frequently in presenting characters we really want to get to know - real people. There's no effort spared to give even the lesser characters some kind of personality. I was particularly amused following the exploits of Angie and her family. So don't pass up the opportunity to read an entertaining and well-crafted story. Looking forward to more good work from Ms. Thatcher!
☆☆☆☆☆☆ 5.0 out of 5 starsTrue love conquers all
Liz and Ty are complex adults. Their relationship deals with issues such as alcoholism, sexual abuse and cancer. A blend of lighthearted loving moments weaving together harsh realities in life.
Clever wit with the backdrop of sports and courtrooms. The secondary characters are a nice blend that compliments Liz and Tyrone' s journey through These Foolish Things.
Hi Susan and welcome to my blog. I read These Foolish Things and the sequel a few weeks ago and I have a few questions.
- Is Baseball/softball your favorite sport? I like how you opened the book and sexual tension with it.
Yes. I have been a Red Sox fan all my life and I played softball in high school and on a corporate team. I was not good, but I love the sport.
-I believe We all bear scars, your characters have very physical scars; i.e. Cancer and Alcoholism. Was it hard to deal with the subjects?
In regard to scars: writing about these issues helped me process a lot of my experience. I come from a family with alcoholism. Some got help and others stayed in their denial. It's like growing up in a minefield.
-Do you think there is the ONE person out there for us, or the possibility of several potential great loves in our life?
The ONE v several: that question sparks almost as much controversy as the proper method for hanging toilet paper. I don't think there's a single answer to that.
Thank you very much for your perspective. It takes a lot of courage to tackle the issues you tackled in your writing and I love that you wrapped it all in a love story.
Monday, February 13, 2017
Hunter Cross has no regrets. Having left his football prospects behind the day he graduated high school, he’s happy to carry out his legacy on his family’s farm in the foothills of the Shenandoah. But when a shoulder injury puts him face-to-face with the high school sweetheart who abandoned town—and him—twelve years ago, Hunter’s simple life gets a lot more complicated.
Emerson Montgomery has secrets. Refusing to divulge why she left her job as a hotshot physical therapist for a pro football team, she struggles to readjust to life in the hometown she left behind. The more time she spends with Hunter, the more Emerson finds herself wanting to trust him with the diagnosis of MS that has turned her world upside down.
But revealing secrets comes with a price. Can Hunter and Emerson rekindle their past love? Or will the realities of the present—and the trust that goes with them—burn that bridge for good?
(The setup is that heroine Emerson has just come back to her hometown of Millhaven after twelve years and is working as a physical therapist)
Emerson thought of her schedule, complete with the tumbleweeds blowing through its wide- open spaces, and bit back the urge to laugh with both excitement and irony. “I’m sure I can fit someone in. What’s the injury?”
“Rotator cuff. X-rays and MRI are complete, and Dr. Norris, the orthopedist in Camden Valley, ordered PT. But the patient is local, so I figured if you could take him, it’d be a win-win.”
“Of course.” An odd sensation plucked up Emerson’s spine at the long-buried memory of a blue-eyed high school boy with his arm in a sling and a smile that could melt her like butter in a cast-iron skillet. “Um, my schedule is pretty flexible. What time did he want to come in?”
“Actually, he’s a little anxious to get started, so he came directly here from the ortho’s office . . .”
Doc Sanders turned toward the hallway leading to her waiting room, where a figure had appeared in the doorframe. Emerson blinked, trying to get her brain to reconcile the free-flowing confusion between the boy in her memory and the man standing in front of her. The gray-blue eyes were the same, although a tiny bit more weathered around the edges, and weirdly, the sling was also a match. But the person staring back at her was a man, with rough edges and sex appeal for days, full of hard angles and harder muscles under his jeans and T-shirt . . .
Emerson stood with her feet anchored to the linoleum, unable to move or speak or even breathe. For the smallest scrap of a second, she tumbled back in time, her heart pounding so hard beneath her crisp white button-down that surely the traitorous thing would jump right out of her chest.
A blanket of stars littering the August sky . . . the warm weight of Hunter’s varsity jacket wrapped around her shoulders . . . the warmer fit of his mouth on hers as the breeze carried his whispers, full of hope . . . “Don’t go to New York. Stay with me, Em. Marry me and stay here in Millhaven where we’ll always have this, just you and me . . .”
“Emerson? What . . . what the hell are you doing here?”
The deeper, definitely more rugged-around-the-edges version of his voice tipped the scales of her realization all the way into the present. She needed to say something, she knew, she knew, but her mouth had gone so dry that she’d have better luck rocketing to the moon in a paper airplane right now.
“I work here,” Emerson finally managed, the truth of the words—of what they meant—delivering her back to reality with a hard snap. She hadn’t returned to Millhaven for a jaunt down memory lane. Hell, she’d only come back when her process of elimination had dead-ended in total despair. She was here for one thing, and one thing only. To bury herself in as much work as her body would allow.
Even if her first client probably hated her guts.