Wednesday, December 7, 2016

{Blog Tour} Gypsies, Tramps and Weeia - Elle Boca (Review, Excerpt & Giveaway)

Elle Boca

on Tour December 5-9 with


Gypsies, Tramps and Weeia

(SciFi/Fantasy – urban fantasy) 
 Release date: February 1, 2016 at Poyeen Publishing  
ISBN: 978-1932534115 262 pages


Sworn to protect the secrets of their race, marshals are trained to police Weeia hiding among humans. After completing her advanced marshal training, Danni is blown away by her new plum assignment to Paris. But, all is not well in the City of Lights; the offices are a shambles, her boss is apathetic, and her predecessors died under mysterious circumstances; it’s almost like somebody doesn’t want the law there. Despite that she risks her life in the seedy underworld of gypsies and tramps to search for a missing Weeia man.


This book follows Danni who just became a level 3 Marshal for Weeia.  She gets a post in Paris to help police the Weeia.  Danni experiences some setbacks when she arrives in Paris such as a bad living situation and a boss who is MIA.   

I loved Danni as a character.  The author did a great job creating a whole new world regarding Weeia and it was very easy to follow along with.  Danni was a very interesting character she obviously had a difficult upbringing, which has continued into her adult life.  I liked that Danni was able to admit her faults and in turn able to be stronger because of them.  Danni was a very independent character and someone who would work very hard to achieve a goal. 

The author does a great job describing Paris when Danni is touring the town.  I felt like from all the vivid details I could imagine myself traveling through this town along with Danni and picture exactly what Paris looked like.  I also liked that we got to not only see the tourist areas, but other areas of the town.   It was great that we also got some background on the current economy in Paris during the book.   The details that the author used to describe the setting were great I felt like I was right along with Danni. 

My major issue was I felt like I was missing a huge bit of information by not knowing what happened to Danni’s family.  The author kept alluding to something bad happened, but didn’t elaborate in the beginning.  I felt like I was missing a big piece while reading since it was brought up several times in the beginning of the book and was definitely a major issue that effected Danni’s life. 

I would suggest this as a nighttime read.  It was easy to follow along in the book and was easy to find natural stopping points to put the book down and pick it up the next night.  The story flowed very quickly and was easy to read. 

I received a copy of this book from France Book Tours in exchange for an
 honest review.  This does not affect my opinion of this book.

My Rating: 4/5


"Marshal Metraeux, what a pleasure to see you," Professor Hardley said with fake enthusiasm as I arrived out of breath by his side. "I trust our early morning appointment isn't interfering with your busy social life. You have less than twenty minutes to complete the tasks."
The arrogant disembodied voice of Professor Sonal sounded puny in the open space, "Why hurry on our account?"

I was glad she was there as an observer and it was Professor Hardley who was in charge of the exam. He wasn't a fan of mine, but on the other hand, he didn't appear to be biased against me either. If anyone would be fair it would be him. My enemy was time.

"Run," Marla screamed at me, her face a mask of concern. "Go."

I turned to Professor Hardley. He motioned with his hand toward the marker for Start. I ran as fast as I could, forgetting all about the anxiety about my uniform I had felt that morning.

The test required me to find the "rogue person," and capture him or her with my marshals collar while avoiding the other Weeia in the field, one from each henki, whose job it would be to stop me from catching my quarry within the time limit, half of what I should have had if someone hadn't pranked me. Weeia abilities were related to one of four henkis, Emotional, Material, Mental, and Temporal. Each player was supposed to rely on her ingenuity and particular ability.

In preparation for the final Marla and I had practiced every type of attack we could imagine. My friend Ernie, who worked at the academy, and a few first year marshals Marla had befriended helped set mock attacks of various kinds. We struggled the least with the "assailants" from our own henkis. Marla had trouble getting through the course. When she did it took her double the minutes allotted for the exam. From the beginning, I made it with time to spare so we dedicated a lot of energy to preparing her to speed up through the course. During the practice test there were many variables we couldn't anticipate.

As I ran toward the first area of cover a feeling of dread and despair flooded my mind. It was a kind of whispering, filling me with a sense of failure, convincing me I wouldn't pass the test, telling me it was too late. When I entered a small copse of trees, I saw a figure sending out the emotional henki blast I was feeling. I couldn't afford to slow down so I launched myself at the figure, lashing out with a flying kick and follow up punch that knocked my opponent out cold. The moment the person dropped unmoving the debilitating emotions faded.

Regaining my clear head allowed me to think about next steps. The words of one of my instructors popped into my head unbidden, "Where there is one assailant you can expect others." Of course I knew that, but I was in such a hurry I had forgotten for an instant. I didn't have the luxury to dawdle. I would have to find a way to flush the attacker out in a hurry. I cast an illusion of myself collaring the suspect and leading him away. It prompted another one of my opponents to expose herself, thinking I had already completed my goal. I could tell from a quick glance at my badge I had flushed the temporal henki out from hiding.

As I ran along the path toward the far side of the grounds, the Weeia with temporal ability realized what had happened and threw a slow time field in front of me. I felt it forming and spun, focusing all my strength and hurling an energy burst at her. Perhaps she was not expecting it because it was an advanced technique I had mastered in my hours of extra training.

While other students were enjoying the distractions downtown Portland offered I had to save my pennies so I studied and practiced all I could. For most students moving up the ranks was a matter of pride and family tradition. For me it was more. I had to pass the exam. The job and salary raise would come in handy, not to mention the added self-esteem that came with the promotion. It was more than that. I had to prove to myself and to everyone else that I was a good marshal.

My reaction disrupted her grip on the time field, freeing me to keep moving. I ran as fast as my legs would carry me. I couldn't keep her from using the same tactic again, but if I was out of range it wouldn't matter.

That meant two henki attacks down and the possibility of two more to go. I wanted to look at my watch to see how much time was left, but that would only make me nervous. Keep your eye on the ball or in this case the field, I told myself.

The path in front of me split into three, straightforward and off to the left and right. Soon after I turned left I felt the expenditure of Weeia energy. Using my badge, I realized I had been fooled by a mental henki into going in the wrong direction. When I backtracked I spotted a small object on the ground emitting Weeia energy. It was the cause of my confusion. It took me less than two minutes to find a large rock and smash it. That suppressed it, ending my disorientation.

I knew I was nearing my target when a material henki made of a stone like substance appeared, blocking my way. Although I had heard there were Weeia capable of transforming themselves that way, I had never seen one. It was rare and required considerable energy, from what I knew. While I was interested in knowing more, the situation didn't lend itself to introductions and social chitchat. The stone being was ready to engage. Hand-to-hand combat with such a creature was nearly impossible to win thanks to its large size and hard to hurt exterior.

I was wondering if I could get around the thing when it caught me in a bear hug. Its dry earth scent reached my nostrils at the same instant it squeezed me tight, making it hard to breathe. When I tried to break loose I felt its tough skin, rough against mine, with an unshakable strength. Thoughts of dread, losing the exam, and failure circled me, but I was too busy trying to escape to notice. It was as if time had stopped, all that mattered was the being and me, locked together. Our relationship at that moment was not of combatants so much as captive and captor.

In my desperate efforts for release somehow I found a tiny opening in its midriff. Poking my pinky through I discovered it was ticklish. It loosened a smidgen as I stroked it with the tip of my little finger. Realizing it would take more than a fraction of an inch of contact for the being to release its iron grip I focused my ability on tickling it. I threw an illusion of thousands of feathers making their way through the opening, brushing against the thing's sensitive middle. I thought of the feel of them against its body, the urge to giggle, and in particular the intense desire to let go to make the tickling cease. Its hold loosened a tiny bit.

Once I had enough ease of movement, I pulled a small packet from my pocket and blew at one end of the tube, sending white powder into its face and causing it to sneeze. In the process of sneezing it transformed back to a rather surprised Weeia man. His nose was scrunched and his mouth open in preparation for the next spasm.

His grip loosened enough for me to make my move. Summoning all my might I kicked him between the legs, and pushed him down and away from me. His features expanded in a grimace as he howled, and bent forward to protect his genitals from further harm. I mouthed "sorry," before running past him as fast as I could.

I relied on my training to find my exam target. Before I saw him, I knew he was near.

"There you are," I blurted when I spotted my quarry.

I confirmed on my badge that he was my target. He looked startled as he stood steps away from me on the path. He must have been expecting a different outcome, confident I would lose. As a happy coincidence the fake quarry was in real life someone I disliked. He was a nasty piece of work who enjoyed belittling the staff whenever he thought nobody would notice. I felt no hesitation as I took him down with a bola and snapped the collar on, seconds before the final horns sounded the end of the exercise.


gypsies-tramps-and-weeia-elle-boca Elle Boca is the author of two urban fantasy series about superhumans called Weeia, the Unelmoija Series in Miami and the Marshals Series in Paris. Growing up the only child of a monkey mother and a rabbit father she learned to keep herself entertained and spend time reading. Elle makes her home with her king cat husband in South Florida. Visit her website. Follow her on Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon Subscribe to her newsletter Buy the book: on Amazon


You can enter the global giveaway here or on any other book blogs participating in this tour. Be sure to follow each participant on Twitter/Facebook, they are listed in the entry form below.

Enter here

Visit each blogger on the tour: tweeting about the giveaway everyday of the Tour will give you 5 extra entries each time! [just follow the directions on the entry-form] Global giveaway - international: 1 winner will receive a kindle/epub copy of this book




Tuesday, December 6, 2016

Can't Stop Loving You - Miranda Liasson (Spotlight)


When it comes to her heart, Arabella D’Angelo has moved on—even though she still lives in Mirror Lake, Connecticut, a little tourist town with a long memory for mistakes. Ever the dutiful daughter of a cantankerous widower who holds grudges, Bella has spent the past twelve years raising her younger brother and making a name for herself as a successful psychologist. Now, when she isn’t counseling a lonely-hearts club for senior women, she’s humoring her matchmaking girlfriends. Bella resists the romancing of their blind dates, yet her friends hope she’ll fall for a local and scrap plans for a fresh start in Chicago.
Then, just before Bella’s thirtieth birthday, her first love, Roman Spikonos, returns to Mirror Lake. When he moves next door to her family’s garden-center business to run his grandparents’ orchard, it stirs up gossip—and a tempest of passions—just in time for pumpkin harvest. As Roman and Bella once again get caught up in a swirl of desire and heartache, not to mention her overprotective father’s fury, Mirror Lake will soon find out whether the Italian hometown beauty and her unforgettable Greek god can stand a second chance.
Just then, Bella saw a man walking toward her from across the square. She looked the other way, pretending to be fascinated by a couple of little kids kicking up leaves. Because she’d know that sweeping, confident gait, that straight-as-a-cornstalk carriage, those big, strong shoulders anywhere. And the way her limbs were going weak, the way her heart had catapulted into her stomach like a basketball and her breaths were coming raggedly, her body knew it, too. All that told her that the man striding quickly toward her was no surfer guy. It was Roman.
She glanced up to find him standing there, wearing jeans and a black sweater. Looking like sin, as usual.
“Oh, it’s you,” she said, trying to sound disappointed, but she couldn’t help smiling a little. “I’m expecting my big, burly, blond Swedish date.” When she showed him the photo on her phone, his response was an emphatic grunt.
He sat next to her on the bench, his leg grazing hers unapologetically. He smelled like woodsy cologne and shaving cream, and it was making her giddy. Like he’d just had a shower and was going out for the night. Maybe he was. An image of him on a date with some gorgeous woman floated through her mind. Him laughing and sipping wine with someone and caressing her hand across the table.
She pushed back that image. It made her uncomfortable. Sad. It was only a matter of time before he met someone. He was too good looking, too funny, too chivalrous. Too everything.
His leg touched hers again, but he didn’t say anything, like excuse me or oops. It seemed . . . intentional. Yet he sat there, focused on watching the sun sink over those gorgeous trees, that New England autumn post-card view . . .
She couldn’t take it anymore. She moved away into her own personal space. “Oh, for the love of God, what are you doing here?”
He sat up a little straighter. Eyeballed her in a way that confused her . . . he seemed hesitant, very unlike him, who usually said what he meant and didn’t play games. Finally he spoke. “Your date’s not showing tonight.”
“Oh.” Great. Apparently she was being stood up based on appearance only, since Jess had told her she’d e-mailed her date a photo. That was confidence inspiring. And worse was that Roman knew she was being stood up. Not only knew but came bearing the news. Wait a minute . . . She stopped in the middle of gathering up her purse. “How do you know that?”
He leaned forward on the bench, resting his elbows on his legs, tapping his fingers together. “Trust me, he’s not your type.”
“You interfered with my date? How could you? I thought we talked about this.”
Roman sighed heavily. He turned toward her and spoke. “Your date’s not showing because he doesn’t exist.”
Her heart skipped a beat. Or two. “Did you annihilate him?”
“No, I made him up. I gave Jess a stock photo to show you.”
“To play a joke on me?” Why would he do that? Her throat felt lumpy. Through everything, she thought at least they were friends. “That is the lowest—”
He grabbed her by the shoulders. “Bella,” he said and shook her a little. “Look at me.”
She did, through narrowed eyes. When she saw his face, all the fight whooshed right out of her, like a balloon let loose before it’s tied. There was something different about him tonight. A graveness. The way he looked at her was just different, like he was not joking or being sarcastic. In fact, he looked dead serious, those big brown eyes staring right at her, those long, lovely lashes looking sinfully angelic on such a gorgeous hunk of man.
“I did it because I want to be your date for tonight.” She must have still looked confused, because he said, “I knew you’d never agree to it the regular way.”
All Bella’s critical body parts were humming. She was filled with elation, with hope. Maybe it was wine or desperation or the upcoming birthday, she didn’t know. But she had the distinct feeling she was about to do something reckless, and like it.
She must’ve looked dumbstruck because he repeated, “I want to take you on a date.”
“Take me on a date?” she echoed. A bright bulb, she was indeed.
“Yeah, you know”—he pointed back and forth between the two of them—“go out together, you and me. Tonight.”
“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. Our history, you know.” Their history was a mess, and they both knew it.
“Right, right,” he said, pretending to contemplate that. “But still.”
But still what? “Why me?” she asked. It came out sounding very quiet and clogged, because she was having difficulty getting the words out.
“I think you know why.” His eyes dropped to her lips. Her stomach dropped to her feet. Oh God.
Date him? That would be foolish. Do him? Even worse. To her horror she realized she wanted to. A lot.