The Shadow of the Wind: The Cemetery of Forgotten Series, Book 1 By: Carlos Ruiz Zafón Narrated by: Daniel Weyman

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Carlos Ruiz 's The shadow of the Wind is a phenomenal book that delves into Magic realism it is a read that is both spellbinding, captivating , hypnotic and transformative. This book eclipses many other titles ive read in the magic realism genre, showcasing his ability to illustrate and develop an engaging charismatic young storyteller. The novel is about young Daniel whois invited by his father to the'cemetry of the lostbooks' in the Cityof Barcelona. An obscure Labyrinthe, a treasure trove of forgotten books. Danielon that special morning of 1945 discoversthe La Sombra del Viento by Julian Carax a book which transformshislife, and takes himona series of adventures. As Daniel ages Several people become interested in this jewel, and one nighthe is approached by a figure who reminds him of a character from La Sombra del Viento, a character who turns out to be the devil. This character is tracking down every copy of carax's work in order to burn them. Yet what begins as a curious adventure from someone with literary intrigue turns into a quest to find out the Life and death of Julian Carax and save those that were left behind.

This exciting read,unveils the story of Daniel the seeker of truth and a new literary scholar and tells a story of such magic, and mysticism. Painting pictures with images you loose yourself in. Animating scenes. The language and prose is written with such divinepoetic sensitivities,Zaffron sculpts He is a magician ,drawing us an artist, enchanting, and crafting a story, befriending you with the magic of his pen manship, This story is captivating it claims you, Zaffron is a great storyteller,you are hooked as you flip from page to page scene to scene. Lines such as " like the city awoke,like a water colour," he is an artiste," his pen is the paintbrush Each line is a brush stroke, painting vivid images, transporting you into a realm of creativity. With Zaffrons work we see books as more than just pages with literature and content, but access,a passport into existence a creative portal. Zaffron creates 3 dimensional emotive characters that are both animated, and highly entertaining. This book is amust read.

Kristifer Ann collects with House of Marchetti

House of Marchetti Book 1 of 3 SYNOPSIS Lucan Marchetti lives in the darkness of Sin City surrounded by the underbelly of organized crime. He has stayed focused on building his Las Vegas Empire after discovering his fiancé with Nicolas Abruzzi a rival Mafia family member. Jaclyn” Jack” Hale is the owner of a family coffee shop that she inherited after losing her parents in a tragic accident, years earlier. Living a happy, quiet life by herself in the mountains of Colorado amongst. Jack takes notice after almost a year of this mysterious customer coming and decides it’s time to introduce herself to Lucan and he realizes she is the light in his darkness. Although not everyone is as enamored with Jack as Lucan is. A threat on Lucan’s life during a weekend in Vegas brings the realization that Lucan brings the darkness into her world. Is she prepared for it? This larger than life man doesn’t just take over her life, he takes over her body and her heart.

 Excerpt from Chapter 11

Who is this girl? I’m so caught off guard it’s all I can do to keep my mouth closed. I stopped listening to her babble and took a step into her, walking her slowly back till her back is against the wall. Her eyes are huge and her lips are slightly parted. I bring my hands up to her face, my thumbs barely touching her cheeks as I glide them back and forth. I pull her to me, slipping a hand around her neck and brushing my lips over hers. I pull back, putting my forehead against hers. Closing my eyes, I inhale her deeply. I can smell the wine and chocolate on her. The underlying dessert scented lotion from earlier, still lingering on her skin. I could eat her up.


This scintilating read will knock your socks off, with inviting, extraordinary characters, why not escape into a world of dynamo's today. Pick up House of Marchetti and be blown away, sensuos, erotic, and stunning. Pick up your read now, A sexy read for the siren in you.

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The Connoisseur:Albert Van Der Steeg

The Connoisseur

On the ferry between the Hook of Holland and Harwich we heard a man explaining wines to his girlfriend or wife. We had to laugh a bit:  there’s only one kind of wine aboard.  It made me think of a man who married into my family.

With his father he maintained their family’s wine cellar.  It sounded like a lot of work: they saved every label of wine they drank, discussed how long a bottle should rest before being ready to drink, and he would turn the bottles once a week.  He even had a written down journal about the wines.

At parties in the Netherlands we normally sit in a circle, have our drinks and snacks and talks.

He would always show his knowledge about wines.  After getting his glass he would stick his big nose in it and sniff loudly.  Sometimes he would ask for the cork of the bottle and sniff at that too.

The next thing would be sipping a little bit and rinsing it in his mouth. Sometimes with a sound like “mmm”. Finally he would gulp the wine down, after which he would look to the ceiling for some time. The suspense would almost be killing, he would wait a little more and then would say something like: “Anjou, chateau Perrigord, 1979 and ……I would say, mmmm the south slope.” 

His wife would look at him in admiration. “Yes, my husband is a true connoisseur!”   The host would get the bottle and yes, it was completely right.

Another brother in law and I suspected him to have seen the bottle every time he did this. How he managed to do this we didn’t know.  It was just a suspicion.  We decided to put him to the test on the next birthday party.

I bought an excellent wine, a Grand Cru of a famous chateau and a great year as well according to the salesman. After that I went to the supermarket and bought a bottle of Bulgarian Bull’s Blood.

This a very cheap wine, not from a chateau or such, you could even buy it in cardboard boxes. I put the bottle of excellent wine in a normal position in the cupboard. The Bulgarian bottle was hidden.

At the birthday party after the coffee and birthday cake had gone, the beer, soft drinks and wine was served. Our wine expert got a glass of the Bull’s Blood.  His nose went in the glass and the normal procedure followed. He was really delighted! “What an excellent wine!”, he exclaimed.

“This is a Grand Cru! You’re spoiling me!” He named the name of the chateau and the year of bottling.  And then he asked for the bottle.

I brought him the Bulgarian bottle and he fell very silent. We didn’t hear anything of him the rest of the evening.  His wife started a conversation about a lot of different things.  The other brother in law joined me in the kitchen while I was getting more crisps, together we had a big laugh.

After this evening we never got the tasting show again.  He lost his title of “Connoisseur” that night. Only the sniffing in the glass remained

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The missing: The summation of missing a best friend

Moving on is one of the hardest things to do. Yesterday i heard my ex best friends laugh in the street, it was distinctly hers and i missed her. My heart ached, and i gulped in the sadness, only for it to finally hit home, the feeling was not reciprocated. She knew where i was, knew where i lived, knew my passions, if she had cared enough she would have sought me out. Something would have been said in all the years of absence. It's a funny thing in life, when you think you are to someone and realize with pained reality, in many ways your not. I'd missed many things, such as a laugh a smile, the moments in the car alone where the whole world was our oyster, the debates we had when we lured the world in giving them a pinch of our thoughts. Recently i made a crazy choice, it was a stupid one to me. I'd put aside the little pride i had and in boldness took the nervous cautious steps to her old home. I remembered we wrote passionately, i bought a journal hoping that my eyes would lock on the stranger, and the ghost that haunted my memories.

Then on returning i realised the things i had wanted never came to pass, and maybe god had a reason for everything. I wanted our children to grow up knowing much of each other, going on trips, like in the home alone movies, where the kids are like family. I wanted us to travel and see a world outside the bubble of London, and i'd wanted much to introduce her to one of my heroes, my older brother. I imagined her sipping champagne with us at his country club, us laughing as we networked with mine and my sisters contacts, i imagined introducing her to my nephew Iriah and having debates with my younger brother. I had missed her much, yet i knew in reality, it had never been a friendship shared.

It's the hardest thing to say goodbye to someone you cared about. In time i am making my trip back to the Motherland, and the funniest thing, i hear her voice everywhere, her laughter, our triumphs the comments we made, and then it hit me with much clarity. I can finally let her go. It's been years, i'd make three almost bold steps towards her home, each time i returned back thinking to myself it's time to move on. Let ghosts lie. In the mind of those around me it was an epic fallout, but in my mind when the phone buzzed or rang, i still remembered the soft tone of the friend i missed.

Life is funny, you say goodbye to people with the rage you knew, and see their ghosts everywhere. Their memories haunt you in your dreams, and all the hate you once felt suddenly disappears, but life is cruel at times, for by the time it does, she's wetted her lips and is smiling at you, because she knows their already gone. I think in reality she had been my best friend, childish as it seems, but outside of that bubble i created, it had not been reciprocated. Yet we smile and look for those to fill those neatly organised gaps.

Realising Love

image by raven 529

It's easy to escape into the mystique of romance novels. We meet out captains there, kings, companions, and thrash out more pages hungry for more romantic idealism. Yet we stumble out of those pages into real life not knowing precisely what we are looking for. When love; Real love, with real partners who are looking towards a functional relationship come knocking sometimes we turn them away. Hungry for the hurricanes we read in books which convinced us, love had to be drama central.

Love is real companionship. Real understanding. Someone who cares, takes the time to understand, listens to you and gives you honest feedback in return. Love is trust and effective communication. Yet the first relationship we often fail at, is the one where we have to love ourselves first. Learn to love yourself first. Until we love ourselves, we cannot love others the right way.