Book Spotlight - Women with Wanderlust : A Guide to Roaming by author Melissa D. Jones

Dear friends, today Literary Flairs would like to spotlight an inspirational and motivational travel genre titled Women with Wanderlust : A Guide to Roaming written by the multitalented author and creative entrepreneur Melissa D. Jones.

Do you love traveling, collecting "moments" and would like to get information and tips on solo and budget traveling to various places? Then this is the book for you! The author is passionate about traveling to new destinations (she's been to 40 countries so far!) and has chronicled her adventures and true travel experiences in this very engaging book. Let us know more about Melissa and her travel book in today's special spotlight.

 Connect with author Melissa D. Jones

Follow Melissa on Twitter, visit her Amazon author page, Like her Facebook Page, Contact her on Goodreads

About the author : Melissa D. Jones is a designer, marketer, artist, traveler, photographer, foodie and creative entrepreneur. She runs her own business, extracting inspiration and elements from around the world to help women entrepreneurs and businesses achieve brilliant design. Living for travel, adventure and new experiences she's photographed her way around 40 countries (and counting!) and wrote all her travel knowledge into a book Women with Wanderlust: A Guide to Roaming.

         Learn more about her and her work at roux roamer.

Book Spotlight : Women with Wanderlust ( A guide to Roaming)

Book : Women with Wanderlust ( A guide to Roaming)

Author : Melissa D. Jones

Genre : Non Fiction, Inspirational, Solo Travel, Budget Travel, Women's Travel

Available worldwide Amazon Kindle stores : US Amazon, UK Amazon and in all other Amazon Kindle stores.

Reviews : 15 so far, all 5 stars at Amazon Reviews

Book Summary

Feeling like you can't afford a big adventure or don't know how to plan one? Women with Wanderlust will help you feel confident that you can travel the world with ease on any budget. If you want to travel more for less, read practical tips and out of the box ideas for travel, learn the best way to maximize your free plane ticket, hear some fun stories about solo travel, traveling with a partner or friend, know what to do before you go, overcome travel myths and fears or simply read a travel book from a woman’s perspective.

Chapter Excerpt 

Once (or the thirteenth time, it's hard to remember) my husband and I were on a bus that was running really late. We had a bus to catch at the other end of the bus ride but it didn't seem like we would get there in time. We had booked the "express" bus from Laos to Cambodia. What you don't really know is what that means to them. Apparently in this instance it meant waiting at the border crossing for several hours for another late bus to take their passengers with us and also to pick up and drop off locals along the way. We tried pleading with the bus driver that we had a plane to catch but he did not seem to care. He went along with all his "scheduled" stops as if we were on time.

Once we were in the Phnom Penh, the city we were flying out from, we asked if we could get off. The bus driver said no, even though he was letting off other passengers. He would not let us get off the bus. We were growing more and more impatient that we could not exit the bus and other people could. We picked up all of our bags and waited at the front of the bus until finally he opened the doors and we hopped off. We were in the middle of a city we weren't familiar with and it was night. What did we do?

We had no idea how far the airport was from there or even what direction. We knew that a ride to the airport should have cost no more than a few dollars. We had three. We ran around the corner to the first group of scooters we could find and offered them three dollars to take us to the airport. They discussed it and at first told us no. We persisted and they agreed for the three dollars. We hopped on the back of the bike; three people, two large bags and two smaller bags. That was one time I wished I had a selfie stick. Maybe the only time I ever wished that. Ever. 

We were riding along to what we thought was the airport but we really had no idea. We trusted that we made the right move. A few minutes into the journey and the driver said, "Where are you going again?" I couldn’t believe it but I hadn’t lost hope...yet. I told him every word I could think of for airport, plane and travel. I even showed my plane wings (arms outstretched) as if he could see me behind him. He said, “Ok, ok.” Phew, I thought we’d done it.... or at least I hoped. 

We drove along for another few minutes and he said he couldn’t take us all the way to the airport because the gates were closed. Now, this is surprising, as I didn't think that we could communicate a few minutes ago. I told him to just get as close as he could. We pulled up just outside the terminal. We paid him, thanked him and ran off to the terminal.

If at some point you don’t ask yourself, ‘What have I gotten myself into?’ then you’re not doing it right. — Roland Gau

We entered the airport and it looked closed. They were sweeping, mopping and moving all the signage around. We ran up to the counter and asked if we could still make our flight. They didn't look like they understood at first but then we gave them all our info and they said that we could probably still make it. It felt like an eternity to get our boarding passes and run through security but we did indeed make our flight. 

We now have this great Amazing Race story of how we had no idea what we were doing but we figured it out. We just went on hope and intuition. Sometimes that's all you have when you don't know the language or the city.

Book Spotlight : The Witches of Panay (YA Fantasy) by author Malika Gandhi

Hello friends! Literary Flairs presents yet another interesting, highly imaginative and a magical fantasy novel in the making, with a free chapter excerpt for you to read. The book titled The Witches of Panay is an upcoming new release (slated for May end), and is also the first of its series. It is written by the very talented author and illustrator Malika Gandhi. We'll learn more about her and the book in today's special feature.

                                                                                   

Connect with author Malika Gandhi

Connect with the author on Twitter,  her Facebook page, Connect with her on LinkedIn

From the author's desk : Malika Gandhi (known as Fayr Willow for her The Witches of Panay series) was born in India, Bombay, but was brought up in London. She is married with two boys, and works as an author in her spare time, whilst working full time elsewhere. Malika Gandhi has written three books to date under her own name, all have been published on Amazon.

Book Spotlight - The Witches of Panay

Book : The Witches of Panay

Author : Malika Gandhi

Genre : Young Adult Fantasy, Literary Fiction

Trivia : "I have a new release coming up at the end of May called The Witches of Panay. The genre is Fantasy. This is my first YA Fantasy book which will be a series. PS: The work magickal is intentionally spelt that way." Author Malika Gandhi

Book Summary

 

 I was a normal girl, went to school, stayed out of trouble, and did my homework. I hung around with my best friend, Chantelle, and worked part-time at my Mama's floristry. My life on Earth was as normal as anyone’s could be, other than my being a witch. Nothing exciting ever happened. That was, not until the day Jake arrived. Then, slowly everything changed. Now, I find myself entering Magickal realms, talking to animals, and encountering monsters that I thought were just myths. I am told I am the Chosen One. I have a job to do. I have to save the Earth.

Chapter excerpt 

The boat began to rock. Rita, Chantelle and I screamed. Shimmering pearl-like hands appeared on the sides of the boat and then heads appeared out of the water. The Merpeople were too close.

They were beautiful, as Evaliyah had said. Their faces were angelic-like and radiance glowed from their very being. I was instantly mesmerised and I felt a magnet-like tug from them for me to join them.

“Get away from here!” Evaliyah growled at them, taking a shovel he had stowed on the base of the boat. He waved it in their faces, warning them. “Get away now, you filthy murderers!”

The Mermaids squealed and dove back under the dark water from Evaliyah’s threat, whilst the Mermen remained on the surface, but moved back a couple feet. There was one that looked like a King, for he wore a crown on top of his head and held an ornate spear in one hand. He had gold and silver markings painted on his face that shone from a glowing green strobe that he and every other Mer-person was holding.

“We will do no harm to you. All we want is the girl Larissa and the Crystal. We will leave the rest of you,” said the Mer-chief.

“You can’t have her!”replied Mathalae. “She is not yours to take! Go away and leave us!”

“The girl has been called for. We have our orders to take her to our Queen,” said another Merman.

“Who is this queen you speak of?” asked Evaliyah. “What does your queen want from Larissa? She is but a normal witch and nothing else. Go and tell her, she will not have Larissa. We will not give her to you!”

“The Dark Queen will not agree,” said the Merman. “We shall take her!”

“She is your queen?” asked Jake, incredulously.

“The Dark Queen is an acquaintance to the Queen to the Merpeople, who has made a deal to deliver the girl and the Crystal to her,” said a Merman.

“No!” I shouted. “I will not go to her!”

My sudden outburst sent flames into the sky from my upturned palms. I felt the magick inside me scream, as fireballs landed on the water’s surface, but did not die out from the moisture. They instead joined together and spread fast, forming circles around the Merpeople and a barrier between us.

The Mer-Chief shouted something intangible and large water bubbles rose from the dark water. They were magickal! The bubbles quickly dispersed the enchanted fire, leaving only wisps of smoke where the fire was once.

I was shoved back into the tent covering with force when a spear shot towards me. It was blocked instantly by one of Rita’s shields, and redirected back towards the Mermaid who threw it. The Mermaid laughed, which ironically sounded like musical bells, but was deadly. The sound turned into a high-pitched wail that burrowed into my ears. I covered them with my gloves, but the sound just got louder. 

I could also hear the fight outside the tent clearly. The sound of the clapping water was tremendous as arrows and magick joined together in this small, but powerful war of Witches against Merpeople. I had to go out and help. After all, they were fighting to save me from those wretched creatures! I stood up and went to leave the tent covering, ready to use some spells I was taught by Beskine and Janet. I wouldn’t let my friends fight this alone! Chantelle and Jake had left the tent area to help too. No, I was not going to sit inside and let them sacrifice themselves for me! Putting all my energy and power into my magickal blood, I stomped outside.

“No Larissa!” Mathalae stopped me. “You must stay inside. It is you and the Crystal they want. Let us protect you. Get back inside, now!”

“But, Mathalae, I must help! I can’t just sit inside. I am not a coward!” I yelled. I pushed past him and stationed myself at the foot of the dragon’s head of the stern.

“This spell should scare them off!” I removed my gloves and focussed all of my energy. I summoned the power to push them back down in the murky depths of this black water. At first, a little glow appeared on my palm and then it disappeared.

“Larissa, look out!” shouted Jake as a net came hurtling towards me. I cascaded it away with a single thought and it fell back onto one of the Mermaids.

She shrieked something, in her native tongue and white hands appeared around her sides. They grabbed my ankles and pulled me into the water, swimming as fast as she could with me, to get me closer to the others and away from my ship. 

Special Spotlight : The Quixotics (a fast paced action with romance) by author John Wayne Falbey

 Author John Wayne Falbey
                                                                                            The Quixotics (at Amazon)

Today's Special Spotlight is about an intriguing and fast paced action with romance titled The Quixotics. This novel is written by the multi talented, creative and adventurous author John Wayne Falbey with a host of professional achievements to his credit.

Author Links: Connect with author John Wayne Falbey 

Author's Website : http://www.sleepingdogs.biz/author.html

Author's Twitter handle:@jwfalbey

Author's Facebook Page : https://www.facebook.com/wayne.falbey

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Book Spotlight - The Quixotics

 

Ebook :  THE QUIXOTICS ( a fast paced romantic action)

Author :  John Wayne Falbey

Genre : Mystery,  Thriller, Suspense, Romance

Amazon Stores : http://www.amazon.com/Quixotics-John-Wayne-Falbey-ebook/dp/B009RSWROI

Reviews : multiple 5 stars

Achievements : Endorsed by Compulsion Reads

Book Synopsis 

 

Unlike today’s returning warriors, veterans of Vietnam were not welcomed home by many of their countrymen. After risking life and limb in an inhospitable country they often were cursed and spit on when they returned to the USA. Disgusted by this reception, some of these fighters turned their backs on their homeland. 

It’s 1970, and three of these young men buy a leaky old sailboat and set out on a leisurely cruise to drink and brawl their way among the islands of the Caribbean Sea. But they had two problems: they don’t know how to sail and they don’t have any money. So a shadowy government agency convinces them to smuggle guns to anti-Castro insurgents in Cuba.
After surviving a hurricane at sea, things go from bad to worse. They’re captured by Castro’s forces, imprisoned, and tortured. But these guys are former special ops soldiers, and manage to escape into the rugged mountains of eastern Cuba. There they meet up with the insurgents and two things happen. The body count rapidly escalates and an unlikely romance blossoms.  

Amazon Reviews 

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Chapter Excerpt

 

Stevens and Flynn left the tumbledown building through the same window by which they had entered, and scrambled up the slope behind it. Staying out of sight, they circled along the edge of the jungle atop the rise. Once at the road, they darted across it and continued through the matted forest on the other side until they reached the cliffs above the sea. With great care, necessitated by the slipperiness of the rock walls, they descended the side of the cliff and lowered themselves into the sea at its foot.

The water was very cold. The shock of it felt good to them, however. It melted away the sweat and grime of the hot day, and brought a new, refreshing surge of energy to their tired bodies. At first, they literally gasped for breath until their bodies grew accustomed to the chill of the water.

The coastline at this point circled toward the town, forming a sort of cove. The two men angled away from the shore, swimming toward the open sea for a while. They used a modified breaststroke to avoid splashing and making noise that might attract unwanted attention from someone on shore. When they reached a point about one hundred yards from shore, they began swimming parallel to the shoreline. As they approached the first of the two docks, they slowed to a quiet dog paddle to avoid making any motions or sounds that might be seen or heard by the few early evening fishermen sitting languorously at its tip. They moved past without incident, and steadily stroked their way toward the second dock. Once again, they moved with extreme caution to avoid detection by the fishermen on this dock. At last they eased past, and swung toward shore, aiming for a point about one hundred fifty yards beyond the second dock. It was directly in front of the old fishing camp.

As they crawled stealthily from the dark water onto the narrow, rocky beach, Flynn hissed, “I never thought to ask you, are there sharks in these waters?”

Stevens grinned. “Only around the docks, and then only at night.”

“Jesus.” Flynn shook his head.

They darted swiftly over the beach, which glistened a dull white in the darkness of evening, and took refuge in the black shadows surrounding the old buildings of the fishing camp. After a few moments when they were certain that no one had detected their presence, the two men crawled into one of the two rotting buildings.

It was the one nearest the road, situated diagonally across from the two bars. The interior of the structure was littered with the debris piled up by past storms. As they crept through the structure, they took great care not to stumble over or disturb any of the debris that lay everywhere. All around them in the near total blackness they could hear the scurrying sounds of things moving. The same foolish thought was foremost in the minds of both men. They hoped there were no spiders around; but they knew with certainty that there must be hordes of arachnids swarming throughout the ruined building. Worse even than spiders was the almost certain presence of scorpions, the nasty-looking, poisonous cousins of the spider family that are native to the tropics.

The sounds of things crawling in the rotting, moldy piles of building parts and furniture, and the knowledge of what those things were, made the flesh crawl on both of the men. They each had to struggle very hard to fight off a sense of panic. Each man was aware of the incongruity between the revulsion caused by insects in men who often found it exhilarating to risk their lives in combat with something as ferocious and cunning as another human being.

The hours passed slowly, as they tensely waited in the building. They took advantage of the time to clean and dry their weapons with slightly damp rags they found in the ruins. As the evening eased slowly by, the two Americans took turns surveying the bars across the road from their vantage point. According to the old fisherman, soldiers from the base, denied permission to visit the bars in town by their new commandant, had devised a scheme. They took turns sneaking out a small side door in the wall that surrounded the base, at times when one of their friends had guard duty at that particular station. They would then descend the cliff to the narrow strip of beach below, and slip into town under cover of darkness.

Stevens, having napped briefly, relieved Flynn of surveillance duty and took up a position by the paneless window. From that point he could easily see the two bars. Flynn, settled into a reclining position against a nearby wall and whispered, “I hope you plan to go back a different way than the one we came in. I’m not in favor of swimming past those damn docks again at night.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Stevens said. As he finished speaking, two truckloads of soldiers from the base came roaring up the road through the darkness. The trucks rumbled by their hiding place and on through town.

“Wonder where they’re going?” Flynn said, “Kind of late for maneuvers.”

“Quiet!” Stevens ordered. Two soldiers had just emerged from the nearest bar, and were hurrying across the street toward them. One of the soldiers was still struggling to get into his jacket. It was apparent that they had seen the truckloads of their comrades pass by, and were worried that a mission had come up and their absences would be noticed.

Their eyes had adjusted to the darkness inside, and the two Americans quickly crossed the building. They slipped out the rear door and moved swiftly around the other building toward the beach. They lay quietly in the tall sea grass atop the small embankment that dropped to the rocky shore below.

In a few moments, the two soldiers passed in front of them. Like jungle cats, Stevens and Flynn sprang from the tall grass and hurtled through the night air, crashing down upon their prey.

The Cubans crumbled under the swift and savage assault. Before they could recover their senses or cry out, their assailants had thrust the barrels of their .45s under the soldiers’ chins. The chill of the bare metal spoke more clearly to them more than a thousand words could have. They made no sounds except for the soft moans of one soldier, whose ribs had been injured under the sudden, crushing force of Flynn’s bulk.

The captives were quickly yanked to their feet and marched into the solitude of the nearest building. Here, their soiled, sloppy uniforms were stripped from them, to be donned in turn by the captors. Once dressed, Stevens and Flynn turned to the hapless soldiers and bound their arms behind their backs with strips of cloth torn from their own discarded clothing.

Flynn picked out the one he thought to be the more uncooperative of the two captives. Squatting on the floor in front of the man, he smiled pleasantly and said, “Would you like to answer some questions for my friend?”

The prisoner spit in his face. The smile on Flynn’s face never changed. “We’ll, at least you understand English,” he said. Almost faster than the eye could see, his right hand shot toward the Cuban’s chest. The knife held firmly in it pricked the skin beneath the man’s left breast, slid neatly between his ribs and plunged into his heart. Flynn’s left hand, moving just as swiftly as the right, clamped over the victim’s mouth, effectively strangling any sounds. Flynn didn’t move, he let the dead man’s body fall away from the knife, rather than trouble himself to remove it. Next, he moved in front of the second captive. The poor man, bound and helpless in his ragged underwear, shook mightily with fear. His eyes were open as wide as they possibly could be. With a now sardonic smile, Flynn asked, “How about you? Want to answer those questions?”

“Si, Señor!” The prisoner readily agreed, his head jerking up and down vigorously.

Flynn nodded toward Stevens, “Your witness, counselor.”

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