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Thursday, 11 June 2015

VIRTUAL BOOK TOUR, REVIEW & #GIVEAWAY - Love Spell by Mia Kerick

Love Spell

by Mia Kerick


~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BLURB:

Strutting his stuff on the catwalk in black patent leather pumps and a snug orange tuxedo as this year’s Miss (ter) Harvest Moon feels so very right to Chance César, and yet he knows it should feel so very wrong.

As far back as he can remember, Chance has been “caught between genders.” (It’s quite a touchy subject; so don’t ask him about it.) However, he does not question his sexual orientation. Chance has no doubt about his gayness—he is very much out of the closet at his rural New Hampshire high school, where the other students avoid the kid they refer to as “girl-boy.”

But at the local Harvest Moon Festival, when Chance, the Pumpkin Pageant Queen, meets Jasper Donahue, the Pumpkin Carving King, sparks fly. So Chance sets out, with the help of his BFF, Emily, to make “Jazz” Donahue his man.

An article in an online women’s magazine, Ten Scientifically Proven Ways to Make a Man Fall in Love with You (with a bonus love spell thrown in for good measure), becomes the basis of their strategy to capture Jazz’s heart.


Quirky, comical, definitely flamboyant, and with an inner core of poignancy, Love Spell celebrates the diversity of a gender-fluid teen.


Excerpt:

Shine On, Harvest Moon

Just call me brazen.

It occurs to me that brazen—unabashedly bold and without an inkling of shame—is the perfectly appropriate word to describe moi right about now. It is, however, the only perfectly appropriate part of this evening. Which is perfectly appropriate, in my humble opinion. So get over it.

I lift my chin just enough to stop the stiff orange spikes of glitter-gelled hair from flopping forward onto my forehead. But who can blame me? These spikes are razor sharp—best they stay upright on my head where they belong—and gravity can only do so much to that end.

Okaaaayyyy... sidetracked much?


*Let’s take it from the top.

Chance César is a brazen B.

I stare ‘em down, but only after I pop the collar of the blinding “Orange Crush” tuxedo I’m rockin’ and shrug my shoulders in a sort of what-the-fuck fashion. Rule of thumb in this queen’s life—first things must always come first.

Pop, shrug, and only then is it kosher to stare.

*Clears throat.

“Eat your ginger-haired heart out, Prince Harry.” Based on the buzz of scandalized chatter blowing about in the crisp evening breeze, I’m reasonably certain that nobody in the crowd heard me speak. And although several of the girls currently gawking at me may do double backflips over my red-haired counterpart across the pond, Prince Harry of Wales, they don’t give a rat’s ass about Chance César. In fact, I have a sneaking suspicion that they view my atomic tangerine locks as more reminiscent of Bozo the Clown than of the sexy singer-songwriter Ed Sheeran.

They are, however, completely unaware that this carrot top is going to make Harvest Moon Festival history tonight.

Refusing to succumb to the impulse to duck my head, I take a single shaky step forward on the stage that’s been set up on the dusty ground beside the vast (by New England standards) cornfield. The stage doesn’t wobble, but my knees sure as shit do. Okay, so I’m a freaking honest diva and I tell it like it is. And I’m what you might call a wreck.

Nonetheless, this brazen B takes a deep breath, blows it out in a single gush, and starts to strut. I mean, this boy’s werkin’ it.

Smi-zeee!! Yeah, my smile is painted on, just like my trousers.

Chance, you are by far the edgiest Miss Harvest Moon this ramshackle town has ever had the good fortune to gaze upon.

I am a major fan of positive self-talk.

Using the feigned British accent that I’ve perfected—thanks to long hours of tedious practice in my bathroom—I dish out my next thought aloud. “I wish I’d put in a tad more practice walking in these bloody heels before going public in ‘em.” And despite one slight stumble—a close call to be sure—the clicking sound my pumps make is crisp and confident. I saunter out onto the catwalk.

#trueconfessions: Faking foreign accents is a hobby of mine. I can yammer it up in improvised French, German, Mexican, Russian, and plenty more accents, but I don’t mimic Asian languages, as it seems too close to ridicule. My plan for the rest of the night is to continue vocalizing my abundant thoughts in Standard British, with just a hint of Cockney thrown in for charm. New Hampshire is the “live free or die” state and I’ll do what I laaaa-like. Yaaasss!

“Introducing this year’s lovely… or, um, handsome Miss…ter… Harvest Moon. Let’s hear an enthusiastic round of applause for Chance César!” Mrs. Higgins always speaks using a lolling Southern twang, although I’m sure she’s lived her entire life right here in less-than-gentile, way-too-many-dirt-roads, Fiske, New Hampshire. Like, can you say “backwoods Fiske” without it sounding too much like “backwards Fiske”? But, overall, I’m pleased—it seems I’m not the only one with an affinity for a colorful accent.

The applause is—to be real—disappointingly, but not surprisingly, scattered.

“Woot!” A solitary hoot splits the night—it’s quite impossible to miss—and I recognize an undeniably shrill and nasal quality in the sound. I know without a doubt that the hooter is my best (only) friend, Emily Benson. In my not so humble opinion, Emily’s hooting for my benefit sounds as liberating as Lady Gaga bellowing “Born This Way” live on the Grammy Awards after emerging from a large egg.

My Emily is everything!! Not to be dramatic.

In any case, that single, supportive hoot is followed by mucho expected heckling.

“Chances are, Chance César is gonna moon the crowd!” That’s a girl’s voice, for sure. I do not have a large female fan base here in Fiske.


Independent reveiwer for Archaeolibrarian I Dig Good Books.

Chance is the Pumpkin Pageant Queen, and when he gets his sights on the Pumpkin Pageant King, Jasper, he pulls out all the stops to make him his.

I struggled a bit with this one. I have listened to another of Mia Kerick's books, and loved that but this one doesn't carry as much of a punch.

I LOVED the plot line, the gender identity issue that Chance has, its dealt with beautifully, very well put across from Chance's POV. Its only Chance who has his say, though. And, being 17, his lingo and that of Emily's, his best friend, a tad too.....young for me!

The lingo used is what I struggled most with. With the characters being young, and it did get a bit repetitive I found, saying the same things over and over. This and the fact that only Chance gets his say, in the first person, is why i scored it what I did. Its entirely a personal choice and some readers may well love Chance and his very...active, floaty, off on a tangent brain. Its quite hard to keep up with him at points!

I LOVED, absolutely LOVED there is no sexual activity in this book, none whatsoever. Just that first kiss for Chance and Jazz that happens right near the end. Loved that.

Soory, but not one for me.

3.5 stars

**same worded review will appear on Goodreads, Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk**


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AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Mia Kerick is the mother of four exceptional children—all named after saints—and five nonpedigreed cats—all named after the next best thing to saints, Boston Red Sox players. Her husband of twenty-two years has been told by many that he has the patience of Job, but don’t ask Mia about that, as it is a sensitive subject.

Mia focuses her stories on the emotional growth of troubled young people and their relationships, and she believes that physical intimacy has a place in a love story, but not until it is firmly established as a love story. As a teen, Mia filled spiral-bound notebooks with romantic tales of tortured heroes (most of whom happened to strongly resemble lead vocalists of 1980s big-hair bands) and stuffed them under her mattress for safekeeping. She is thankful to Dreamspinner Press, Harmony Ink Press, CoolDudes Publishing, and CreateSpace for providing her with alternate places to stash her stories.

Mia is a social liberal and cheers for each and every victory made in the name of human rights, especially marital equality. Her only major regret: never having taken typing or computer class in school, destining her to a life consumed with two-fingered pecking and constant prayer to the Gods of Technology.

Stop by Mia’s Blog with questions or comments, or simply share what’s on your mind. 

Find Mia on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/mia.kerick?fref=ts), 
Goodreads (http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6474518.Mia.Kerick), 
and Amazon (http://amazon.com/Mia-Kerick/e/B009KSTG9E/ref=sr_ntt_srch_link_2?qid=1410298098&sr=8-2).

8 comments:

  1. When did you decide to become a writer?

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    Replies
    1. I was 45 years old when I made the final decision!!

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  2. Thank you very much for reviewing Love Spell on your blog today!!

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  3. I have enjoyed learning about the book. Thanks for sharing it.

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  4. Sounds like a really good book, thanks for sharing it and your review

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  5. Great cover! I enjoyed learning about you and your book~thank you for sharing!

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