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VBT – The Truth About White Supremacy Sexism and Mind Control in America

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About the Book
Title: The Truth About White Supremacy Sexism and Mind Control in America
Author: A.L. Bryant
Genre: Religion, Spirituality & New Age

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Take a journey through America to unearth the truths behind white supremacy and sexism in society. Delve into the deepest and most fascinating secrets behind racism and sexism—the secrets they do not want you to know and may not realize.

Examine the origins and progression of racism, sexism, relationships in America, and the science and psychology behind what is real and what is an illusion. Discover how mind control is the weapon of choice to keep certain groups in power and others in the dark and oppressed. This book gives different perspectives from the physical to the metaphysical.

Finally, we explore astonishing revelations about why we are here, who we are, and how to heal and evolve to a higher spiritual level. Explore the mind-blowing revelations and proven facts that will challenge the way you think about people, life, and the universe.
Though this book focuses on America, its breathtaking discoveries can be applied everywhere, and with anyone around the world.

Author Bio

A. L. Bryant is a former journalist, with articles published in the San Diego Independent newspaper and on popular blog sites. In 2003, Bryant won a literary award for a children’s story.

Approaching every piece from the human perspective, Bryant has always sought to uncover, not just the facts, but the real issues behind the story. During this discovery process, and through personal interactions spanning over 25 years, Bryant is exposing tangible evidence about why some things occur in society.

Links
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Truth-Supremacy-Sexism-Control-America-ebook/dp/B06ZZFKVRF/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1512013251&sr=8-1&keywords=The+Truth+about+white+supremacy

iTunes: The Truth About White Supremacy, Sexism, And Mind Control in America by A. L. Bryant on iBooks

Book Excerpt
EXCERPT 1

Anthropology and the Invention of Race as a Social Construct.

As mentioned, there was no classification of race until the 18th century. After that, it was created to distinguish different groups socially. Race developed as a social construct. So, what is a social construct? According to anthropologists, there are no group of genes that make us belong to the African American, Caucasian, Asian, Indian, or any other race. The American Anthropological Association says that there is greater variation within “racial” groups than between them. The term race was created for cultural and classification purposes.

Race as a social construct originated in anthropology, with W.E.B. DuBois, the founder of the NAACP, and Theodosius Dobzhansky, an evolutionary biologist in the early 1930s-1970s. They concluded that, along with growing anthropology findings at the time, race is not a valid scientific category for biology. It was socially constructed, meaning that it was an invention, made up by society and paraded as the truth.

Anthropology studies many characteristics of humans, both past and present. It is a comparative study of all cultures throughout history and draws from many other social and biological sciences, such as archaeology and biology. If you ask most anthropology students about race, they will tell you that race is not real; it is a social construct.
In populations throughout history, there has been a great deal of overlapping of genes and their physical expressions. Whenever different groups have come into contact, they have interbred. Dobzhansky stated that genetic variation is much more common within species, and with genetic intermingling. It is impossible to distinctly draw a line that separates one classification of race from the other. Most anthropologists have concluded that there is just one type of race — the human race. All humans belong to a single species—Homo sapiens. In other words, the term race was created by….

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VBT – Goddess of the Wild Thing

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About the Book

Title: Goddess of the Wild Thing
Author: Paul DeBlassie III
Genre: Paranormal Thriller

Goddess of the Wild Thing is a dramatic tale of one woman’s spiritual journey where magical happenings, unexpected turns of fate, and unseen forces influence her ability to love and be loved. Eve Sanchez, a middle-aged woman and scholar of esoteric studies, encounters a seductive but frightening man who introduces her to a supernatural world in which the wicked powers of a surrogate mother’s twisted affection threaten love and life. In the mystic realms of Aztlan del Sur, Eve and three friends struggle with whether bad love is better than no love and discover that love is a wild thing.

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Author Bio

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Paul DeBlassie III, Ph.D. is a depth psychologist and award-winning writer living in his native New Mexico. He specializes in treating individuals in emotional and spiritual crisis. His novels, visionary thrillers, delve deep into archetypal realities as they play out dramatically in the lives of everyday people. Memberships include the Author’s Guild, the Depth Psychology Alliance, the International Association for Relational Psychoanalysis and Psychotherapy, and the International Association for Jungian Studies.

 

Links

Twitters: https://twitter.com/pdeblassieiii

Fb: https://www.facebook.com/theunholy.deblassie/

Website: pauldeblassieiii.com

 

Book Excerpts

Excerpt I

Eve sharpened her focus. She saw the sharp nail of a witch’s right finger tracing Graciéla’s image on a foggy mirror in a grungy bathroom, touching the center of the mirror with a hatred so intense, the glass burned red hot. The mirror in Graciéla’s kitchen cracked. Shards jettisoned at the old healer then were magically warded off and drifted in place about her head and neck.

Graciéla’s energy, tired as she was, had fended off the pointed shards. She hadn’t been impaled. But the strain had ushered her from one world to the next. Death came not by the hand of another but by a weakened mind and body defending itself.

Eve, shaken, allowed her soft touch to stay on Graciéla’s forehead, confirming the horror of what she’d seen. Shamanic wisdom, often discussed between the two kindred souls, spoke to Eve as she stroked her friend’s head, remembering that death provided passage for one whose life had been well spent and whose time had come.

Eve wept.

After a few moments, she closed her friend’s green eyes and whispered tenderly, “Always my friend, always love, always together in life and in death.” She stood and wiped the tears from her eyes. A gray-brown, green-eyed, great horned owl hooted from the largest cottonwood branch outside the back window.

Eve heard Shirley finishing her call to the EMTs and police, and then walking to the front of the store to await their arrival.

One large shard lay at the end of the table, sharp tip pointed outward. It reflected Eve’s image, a glowing red ember menacingly centered at the brow point.

Excerpt II

“Shirley spoke up, “Maybe we just gotta give it up and say there’s no good out there and no damn good men.” Shirley spat on the sidewalk, as she was prone to do when attitudes turned south and a pissed-off mood overrode a physician’s reserve. A petite woman, hovering around five-foot-three, she was a spitfire to friends and foes. Her red hair was a fine match for her spicy temperament. She never hesitated to snap her tongue, making an envious woman or cocky man shrivel and long to crawl into a nearby hole and cry. Shirley lived as a healer and a warrior, a woman who cared tenderly for the hurting and raged viciously at pretense and abuse.

Eve, Shirley, and two other friends, Tanya and Samantha, were plagued by man troubles the way pollution settles in during dusty days and humid nights in the Middle Rio Grande Valley of Aztlan del Sur. They were four esteemed professional women who could have any man they chose. Yet time and again, they went for the lower, the bad, the  worst. They sabotaged the good, the permanent. Commitment was a frightening consideration for four women who’d suffered childhoods of parental dysfunctional neglect and split-ups. They often quipped, “We found each other because like finds like.” Tonight, Eve’s troubles were front and center. She’d done it again or at least worried she had. The glitch in the man was in the type she attracted: charmers—striking and untrue. Suffering had begun. Time was critical. To stick it out or get out was her dilemma.  Things with a new man had taken a terrifying turn.”

 

VBT – The One Apart

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About the Book

Title: The One Apart
Author: Justine Avery
Genre: Paranormal

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Only one obstacle stands in his way of enjoying a normal life. He remembers—every life he’s lived before.

Tres is about to be born… with the biggest burden any has ever had to bear. He is beginning again—as an ageless adult trapped in an infant body.

He and his teenage mother face life filled with extraordinary challenges as they strive to protect, nurture, and hide how truly different he is. But Tres alone must solve the greatest mystery of all: who is he? The answer is linked to the one question he’s too afraid to ask: why am I?

In his quest, Tres discovers that all is considerably more interconnected and dynamic than he could ever imagine—and fraught with far more danger. He cannot hide from the unseen threat stalking him since his birth.

Life as he knows it—as all know it—is in peril. And Tres is the only one aware.

Author Bio

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Justine Avery is an award-winning author of stories large and small for all. Born in the American Midwest and raised all over the world, she is inherently an explorer, duly fascinated by everything around her and excitedly noting the stories that abound all around. As an avid reader of all genres, she weaves her own stories among them all. She has a predilection for writing speculative fiction and story twists and surprises she can’t even predict herself.

Avery has either lived in or explored all 50 states of the union, over 36 countries, and all but one continent; she lost count after moving 30-some times before the age of 20. She’s intentionally jumped out of airplanes and off the highest bungee jump in New Zealand, scuba dived unintentionally with sharks, designed websites, intranets, and technical manuals, bartered with indigenous Panamanians, welded automobile frames, observed at the Bujinkan Hombu Dojo in Noba, Japan, and masterminded prosperous internet businesses—to name a few adventures. She earned a Bachelor of Arts degree that life has never required, and at age 28, she sold everything she owned and quit corporate life—and her final “job”—to freelance and travel the world as she always dreamed of. And she’s never looked back.

Aside from her native English, Avery speaks a bit of Japanese and a bit more Spanish, her accent is an ever-evolving mixture of Midwestern American with notes of the Deep South and indiscriminate British vocabulary and rhythm, and she says “eh”—like the Kiwis, not the Canadians. She currently lives near Los Angeles with her husband, British film director Devon Avery, and their three adopted children: Becks, Sam, and Lia. She writes from wherever her curiosity takes her.

Avery loves to connect with fellow readers and creatives, explorers and imaginers, and cordially invites you to say “hello”—or konnichiwa.

www.JustineAvery.com

Twitter: @Justine_Avery

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/JustineAvery

Book buy link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B076B7RDWY

Giveaway

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Book Excerpt

The One Apart by Justine Avery – Excerpt 

Tres felt his body abruptly drop around him with overbearing weight, encapsulating him once again.

The mental images, the overpowering memories, finally faded. Only an ominous stillness remained.

Every cell within him began to twitch, infusing with energy—even as he felt immobile. Every joint, tendon, and bone ached under the pressure of being alive.

A deep sadness engulfed him. He pondered possible reasons. And, just as quickly, he was distracted by the presence of his own simple thoughts.

Thoughts. He realized his own thinking.

This mind—certain of its own newness—desired to explore, feel, do, be. Tres opened his eyes—tried to open his eyes. He found his eyelids fused shut.

He opened his mouth. Thick, warm syrup seeped inside his swallow. Intense fear washed over him, even as he knew exactly where—and how—he was.

Oh, no.

Tres was aware, more aware than any had ever been. In this moment, he knew everything—and yet, nothing.

He was beginning again.

VBT – Framed

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About the Book

Title: Framed – A Black Swann Investigation
Author: Wayne Kerr
Genre: Mystery / Thriller

Toronto’s newest homicide detective, Reggie Swann, seemed to have it all: great career, handsome husband and plans to start a family, until she was framed for murder…

A cop has very few friends in prison.  After surviving ten brutal years behind bars, Reggie’s conviction is finally overturned thanks to her tenacious mother, a new forensic test and a very clever lawyer. She quickly discovers that getting her old life back won’t be as easy as she hoped. To many, she was still as the media had dubbed her: ‘Black Swann – murderer and cop-gone-bad’. The Toronto Police Department still considers her to be a suspect, Reggie’s husband has remarried and the real killer is still on the loose.

Before Reggie can return to Toronto and solve the crime that ruined her life, she reluctantly agrees to investigate a murder in her home town of Penticton, only to discover the two cases which are separated by ten years and five provinces might somehow be connected. Will anyone believe the wild theories of the disgraced detective?

The real murderer does. He framed her once, this time Reggie Swann must die!

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Author Bio

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Canadian author, Wayne Kerr, was born and raised in the small town of Biggar, Saskatchewan (New York is big, but this is Biggar).  He married his high school sweetheart, Marlene, thirty-nine years ago and has lived happily ever since.  They resided in the United States for the past twenty years, but recently returned to Canada and now call the beautiful Okanagan region of British Columbia home.  The writer honed his story-telling skills while keeping his five younger siblings and later his daughter entertained during long cold winters.  When not reading or writing thrillers, Wayne is probably hiking, biking or playing tennis.

For more information on the author and his books please visit: waynekerrnovels.com or follow him on twitter: @waynekerrnovels

Links

website: waynekerrnovels.com

twitter: @waynkerrnovels

Amazon :https://goo.gl/qQonNw

 

Framed Excerpt

A job offer

“What do you think?” Erika asked, as I closed the binder.

“I don’t like your chances,” I told her truthfully. I glanced at the binder. The evidence was overwhelming. On the other hand, either the investigation hadn’t been very thorough or the Penticton PD hadn’t released all the files to the defense. If I had to guess, I’d pick the former. In a way, I couldn’t blame them. The public fight, the blood, the murder weapon and the boat all pointed directly at the husband. I mean, come on, who else would it be? They were certain they had their man. They most likely did.

“However,” I continued, offering a nugget of hope to the attorney, “if this had been my case I’d have had the entire Connelly neighborhood canvassed, as well as the marina. Someone might have noticed a stranger in the area, or at the very least, spotted a boat that size going out or returning after the body dump.”

“Alleged body dump,” Erika said. “It has been a week and they haven’t recovered a body.”

“It is a pretty big lake, perfect for hiding one,” I reminded her, certain that poor Amy was securely anchored somewhere on the bottom of Lake Okanagan. I’d done my due diligence for CAJE. The evidence was conclusive, in my opinion. Now I could focus on solving my own case and getting my old life back. I knew it wasn’t realistic, but I’d had this little fantasy play out in my mind over and over. I’d loved being Reggie McFarlane, extraordinary homicide detective and perfect wife. I imagined perp-walking the real killer into my old precinct. Then the Chief of Police offered me my old job and my ex-husband begged me to come home. We’d live happily ever after in our cute little townhouse. In my mind, I could still picture the furniture we’d picked out together. The curtains… Oh, and the lamps that I’d found in that little secondhand shop on 4th Avenue…

“Will you help me?” Erika asked, pulling me reluctantly back to the present.

“How?” Reality returned without mercy, as it usually did. I still had no idea who really killed Dr. Applegate or why they framed me for it, and the townhouse would be a little crowded these days, considering my ex had two kids with his new wife.

“I need an investigator,” she said.

“I don’t know of anybody here in town,” I answered. “Have you tried Kelowna?”

“I mean you,” she said. “I want you to investigate the Amy Connelly disappearance for us.”

“Me?” I laughed. “You don’t want me. I think he’s guilty.”

“You used to be a homicide detective, didn’t you?”

“Well, yes.”

“I brought in a PI from Vancouver,” she told me. “He didn’t turn up anything useful.”

“Maybe there’s nothing to find,” I said.

“I need someone who will continue looking where the police left off,” Erika said, ignoring my statement.

“I don’t know how much longer I’ll be in town,” I told her, which was the truth. If I’d had any money, I would already be back in Toronto investigating my own case. Then I chuckled. “Besides I don’t like private investigators.”

“It pays $500 per day, plus expenses.”

I stopped laughing. “When do I start?”

 

VBT – Blood Awakening

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Title: Blood Awakening (The Immortal Sleepers)
Author: Miranda Nichols
Genre: Paranormal / Fantasy Romance

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A war has been brewing in the shadows.

Kaelyn Hamblin never felt particularly extraordinary, growing up in a strong Irish household in the heart of Boston for most of her young life. Her humdrum routine remained markedly unchanged for longer than she cared to remember; until that day. The day when a beautiful stranger drifted into her hole-in-the-wall bookshop and changed her life forever.

Tyrian knew from the moment he locked eyes on her that she was the one. His one. The singular being within all of time and space that was made for him and him alone. His world  was not one of niceties and pretty things; bringing her into it would be dangerous. But he would protect her. He had to. After all, it was foretold.

Worlds collide, marking the beginning of the end to an age long battle warring between the forces of darkness and light in the universe. The fate of all rests on the shoulders of a lone druid and her band of human hunters to quell the rising tide of evil threatening to overtake everything and plunge the connected realms into eternal darkness.

 

Author Bio

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Miranda Nichols is an up and coming author in the paranormal romance genre. She’s a full-time student working towards her degree in creative writing. When she isn’t studying or helping the alternative fuel industry, you can find her on https://www.fictionpress.com/ or curled up with a steamy romance novel. She’s a loyal friend who’s not afraid to tell it like it is. Like the smell of fresh popcorn, her fantasy romances tempt you and keep you coming back for more.

 

Links

https://www.mirandanicholsauthor.com/
https://www.facebook.com/author.mirandanichols/
https://twitter.com/mnichols_author
https://www.metamorphosisliteraryagency.com/

 

 

VBT – Penchant for Vengeance

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About the Book

Title: Penchant for Vengeance
Author: Robert Downs
Genre: Mystery

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Charlottesville, Virginia, Police Detective Luke McGinty has a closet filled with demons, along with a few skeletons; a steady job, but no steady partner or girlfriend; and is still married to his wife Sallie, even though she’s been dead for three years. Then his detective work takes a turn for the worse when a body is discovered at the downtown mall. One dead body isn’t enough, though, and another one turns up. When ties to a cold murder case in another county present themselves, Luke realizes that, if he doesn’t tread carefully, he could end up short more than just a few answers…

Author Bio

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Robert Downs aspired to be a writer before he realized how difficult the writing process was. Fortunately, he’d already fallen in love with the craft, otherwise his stories might never have seen print. Originally from West Virginia, he has lived in Virginia, Massachusetts, New Mexico, and now resides in California. When he’s not writing, Downs can be found reviewing, blogging, or smiling. To find out more about his latest projects, or to reach out to him on the Internet, visit the author’s website: www.RobertDowns.net. PENCHANT FOR VENGEANCE is his fifth novel.

Links

Author website http://www.RobertDowns.net

Facebook http://www.facebook.com/RobertDownsBooks

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4821934.Robert_Downs

Giveaway

Giveaway for 2 paperbacks and 2 eBook copies of “Penchant for Vengeance” during the book tour.

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Book Excerpts

Excerpt #1

Traffic was light—Charlottesville, Virginia, despite being a college town, had a curfew—the morning was dark, and a light mist filled the air, adding drops of water to my bright yellow 1974 Camaro. I took the back roads, rather than using US 250 to reach the downtown mall, with Regal Cinema located near the center, off Main Street. I reached the scene in less than ten minutes, including parking, without using a siren, or running a single red light. The body, however, wasn’t nearly as successful as I was.

“Can’t you guys pick a more reasonable hour?” I asked. “Crime should wait until at least nine o’clock.”

“Why don’t you get your butt out of bed like everyone else?” a cop said.

The man didn’t look familiar, nor did his crew cut, wide shoulders, and pressed uniform. His face lacked wrinkles, and his scowl provided more menace than a rabbit with a semi-automatic weapon.

“I did. I’m here, aren’t I?”

I’d flashed my shield to get in, and now I wanted to flash my nine-millimeter. The early hour meant a yawn preceded one hand wrapped around the thick neck of my competition. I preferred reasonable solutions since reasonableness was all I had left. “What do we know?” I asked.

“We know you don’t belong here,” Nelson Rivers said.

Like his name implied, he preferred headlocks to handshakes and shaved heads over full-haired ones. He and I had respectfully disagreed on multiple occasions, so often I couldn’t remember the last time we’d ever agreed on anything other than the day of the week. He had hands the size of pencil sharpeners, and he pushed more buttons than he allowed pushed in return. What he needed was a little less mouth and a lot more action.

I ignored his comment. Ignorance was a hard emotion to pin down, but it seemed to rear its ugly head quicker than the other ones. And crime scenes brought out a special kind of ignorance. I had a few emotions left in my system, despite the hour, and I wanted to save them for the victim, who appeared about my age.

Excerpt #2

The body was bent like a pretzel. Wounds that were possibly from a knife or a whip slathered the body from the neck to the pubic region, deep enough to resemble tattoos. Some were spaced closely enough to disfigure the top half of the body, rendering an exact age nearly impossible. A crime of passion entered the forefront of my mind, and it clung to the roof of my mouth. The victim probably knew his killer intimately, or was, at the very least, an acquaintance.

The wounds stood out for me: a multitude of lacerations that made me unable to look away. When I scanned below the belt, I noticed the mutilated genitalia, rendering the man much less of one. I didn’t like the look of the scene, with the body splayed at an obscene angle, dropped right outside the glass front doors of Regal Cinema to render two of the doors nearly impassable. It resembled something. I just wasn’t sure what. I’d probably blocked it out of my mind, being that I frequented this particular cinema and watched more movies than I cared to admit.

I hoped it never came back, the thought I had blocked. It always did in the end. That was what hurt the most: Movies exacerbated the oddities of life.

Killers were usually born not made, but sometimes, it was the other way around.

The victim’s hands were positioned above his head, forming a triangle, as if he prayed in death to some higher power. Positioned that way by the killer, his hands rubbed up against each other, his head tilted slightly upward. The wounds to the victim’s hands told me he had put up a struggle, knowing that death was inevitable, yet he had wanted to live all the way to the end. But it wasn’t enough. It often never was.

The lack of blood told me the victim wasn’t killed here, and other than a nude body covered in wounds and dried blood, like strokes from a brush, with his hands pointed toward the sky, there were no other obvious signatures. His head was shaved with only a small area of stubble on his chin. His height and weight fell in the average region, his eyes were black, and his lips formed a permanent grimace. He had defensive wounds on both his wrists and the back of his hands, and his skin was as white as a first-floor apartment.

“Who’s the victim?” I asked.

“Victim’s name is unknown, until we run some tests,” the ME said. “Other than being male, and probably between thirty-five and forty years old, I’m out of guesses.”

Addie Ferguson, the ME, had a knack for guessing ages, along with her serious attention to detail. A short woman, with a few extra pounds she could never seem to get rid of, she preferred ankle-length skirts, black boots, and blue blouses.

“Have we got a time of death?”

Book Promo – A-C-T Like a Kid and T-H-I-N-K Like a Parent

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About the Book

Title: A-C-T Like a Kid and T-H-I-N-K Like a Parent
Author: Katherine Shears and C.S. Whitehurst
Genre: Nonfiction self-help

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Just for kicks, have you ever wondered what your parents really want from you in life? Is it you, or do your parents want you to have no real fun? On any given day, do you want to make your parents proud of you and still do what makes you feel really happy within yourself? Of course you do! But the real question has always been, and still is…how? How can we actually get this done?

Well, with A-C-T like a Kid and T-H-I-N-K like a Parent, a.k.a “the child-part consoler”, you will get past common misunderstandings by learning how to truly talk, hear, and listen to your parents, guardians or caregivers instead of feeling like you have to run to friends to find some sense of acceptance, understanding, and real connection.

In this book, chock-full of questions and answers gotten directly from the source, you’ll learn what your parents, guardians or caregivers really expect of you—and maybe you’ll even find out how to explain to them what you really expect from them! Not that this book could ever replace a parent, because it can not. But when it comes to openly communicating certain key ideas, this book comes really close.

This tell-all guide contains lots of enlightening explanations and helpful answers to many common kid questions like:

  • What do my parents really want from me?
  • Why do my parents do what they do and say what they say?
  • What do I really need to know about my parents’ parenting skills?
  • How can I keep my parents happy with me?
  • How can I help my parents to help me?
  • How can I get what I want from my parents every time?

A-C-T like a Kid and T-H-I-N-K like a Parent is an intro to the secret knowledge of adults which is a set of informations that is mainly covered in the book entitled Surrogate Re-Parenting: A.K.A. Get Your Mind Right, and even more thoroughly covered in the book The Secret Knowledge Of Adults. While this book, A-C-T like a Kid and T-H-I-N-K like a Parent is intended for kids 10 and up, the info in this book is beneficial and useful to the intelligent kid parts in all of us. Yes, this means you too.

The information in this book will help you and yours to start to see your parents, not as the enemy, but as the caring human beings they really are, and take the first step toward family unity, understanding, growth, success, and happiness! Both you and your parents really deserve this, and with this book, A-C-T like a Kid and T-H-I-N-K like a Parent, you and your parents can actually achieve this.

Author Bios

katherine

Katherine Shears is a mom, graduate of Strayer University, and an executive consultant, who is dedicated to bettering the social function and overall visibility of all she encounters. She is a deep thinker with an open mind who stays on the cutting edge of learning, having read over one hundred self-help titles and counting.

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C. S. Whitehurst is a psychology-based UX/UI designer/tester, computer programmer, IT Project Manager, and self-help enthusiast, who is a student of science, philosophy, life, and NYU. As a native of New York, having been exposed to social diversity, he has been coached by life to respond to the issues plaguing inner-city youth.

 

Links

http://www.katherineshears.com/

http://www.cswhitehurst.com/

https://www.amazon.com/C-T-Like-Kid-T-H-I-N-K-Parent/dp/1547102888

VBT – The Awakening: Part Two

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About the Book

Title: The Awakening: Part Two
Author: Michael Timmins
Genre: Fantasy

The world is awakening

The monsters of myths and fairytales walk among us.
While Clint, Shae, Kat and Blain awaken to their powers, the others have too. Realizing that they are not like everyone else, and that they aren’t alone.
Samuel, who was once known as Syndor, has managed to survive all these years preparing for Kestrel’s spell and her arrival.

Five of the original eight bloodlines have awoken, but what of the others? How will their awakening happen?

Sylvanis continues to grow at a rapid rate, much to the bafflement of her parents, but her body recognizes the need and responds. Now, she must make a desperate gamble to call out to her Lycans, knowing Kestrel will be able to find her if she does.

Blood has been spilled already, but the war has only just begun!

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Author Bio

Michael Timmins lives in Toledo, Ohio with his wife and two sons. His inspiration for writing came from his many years making modules to run for his D&D group. It has been a dream of his to one day get his work published, and now with ease of self-publishing he has made his dream come true.

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Links

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B076DQWFH9/ Amazon link for “The Awakening: Part Two”
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B076H9KQP9/ Amazon link for both books in series
http://www.michaeltimmins42.com/ website

http://www.facebook.com/lycanwarsaga Facebook page

https://twitter.com/mtimmins_author Twitter page

Giveaway

Giveaway for a free eBook of The Awakening: Part One, a signed copy of The Awakening: Part One, and the main prize: a signed copy of The Awakening: Part One and The Awakening: Part Two

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Book Excerpt

At first, he went crazy with it and bought candy, video games, and whatever he felt like. When Hank asked him how he was going to buy a car when he turned sixteen since he kept spending all his money, Sim went on a spending freeze. Apart from an occasional personal reward, he saved every coin. Now, he had enough money to buy the car he wanted, though it took him a whole year beyond his sixteenth birthday to do so.

Closing his eyes, he pictured the car in his head. He was visualizing opening the car door when a scream from up the stairs shattered the vision. Panicked, he rushed upstairs. Never in his entire life had he heard someone scream like that. It held so much pain he couldn’t imagine what it must feel like. Mounting the top of the stairs, he peered down the hall towards Hank’s room. It had to be Hank. There wasn’t anyone else here, but the scream was so… inhuman. He wasn’t sure it had been Hank.

Taking measured steps, he moved down the hall to the door to his dad’s room. It was open a crack, as it always was, and Sim paused outside to listen. Someone breathed roughly — like each breath being forced out of a tight chest, huffing and blowing. It was louder than it should have been and once again, heart pounding, he thought of his dad. Reaching for the handle so he could throw it open, the door was ripped from its hinges, like it was made of cardboard and not the solid oak it was, and tossed away into the room to crash further into the room with a loud crash! Something he had never seen before came through, it’s bulk blocking the doorway like the moon blocks the sun in an eclipse.

It appeared bearish, like they do when they rear up on their hind legs, but something was different. Its shoulders were located differently, as if the front legs were more like arms. To further this appearance, where the paws should be, there were elongated, beefy fingers, ending in wicked looking dagger-like claws. Its back legs appeared more capable of allowing the beast to use only its hind legs to walk. Examining its legs, he noticed something more shocking. Shredded strands of blue and white cloth dangled down from the creature’s waist, like streamers, hung from a blue waistband stretched to its limit. Sim recognized it because it belonged to his father. It was his favorite sweatpants he frequently wore to sleep in. Noticing all this in seconds, the creature’s right claw smashed into him. Slamming into the wall, it was the last thing he remembered.

Standing deep within the alley was some sort of humanoid — it stood at least twice her height, somewhere over three meters tall, and broad of frame. Its body seemed to shift from green to black, but was made of large scales from head to toe. Its legs were lighter color on the inside as was the abdomen, chest and under its neck. Its neck swept out into a long snout filled with teeth, gleaming as the flash’s light struck them. Red colored eyes sat on either side of its head.

She had no problem realizing this was the creature everyone thought was the killer croc, because that was what it was like; a crocodile, standing on two legs. Another reason she figured this was the killer which had Sydney in a panic was the fact it was in the process of eating its latest victim. Its powerful arms held two halves of a body whose midsection was all but missing. Realizing now what those sounds she had heard were, she resisted the urge to puke. Blood, gore and ichor dripped from the gaping mouth of the creature as it froze from chewing. The flashes of light momentarily blinding it.

Sylvia realized her predicament and stopped shooting pictures. The alley went dark. Light circles swam across her vision as the sudden darkness left her temporarily blinded. Sylvia froze for a moment, not sure if what she had seen was real. She took several steps back from the alley’s mouth.

It emerged from the darkness in front of her. As if from nothingness, the snout appeared first, followed by its massive body, like a demon stepping from a portal from hell. Its eyes locked on her and she could only watch in fascination as its inner eyelids closed over the eyes, retreating under the outer eyelids. It was then Sylvia knew she was going to die. Hopefully, the pictures in her camera would show the world what was hiding in the city. This monster was like nothing she had ever seen before, or heard of.

Like a slow-motion action scene from a movie, she watched as the creature’s right hand reached backwards, before slowly coming forward in a terrible arc towards her head. As the arm slashed in front of her she heard, detachedly, four hollow booms, and she caught flashes from her peripheral. The creature about to end her life rocked back as bullets ripped into its flesh. Sylvia saw two bullets bury themselves into its chest, one in the arm and the other in the abdomen.

Blood sprayed her, warm droplets of red rain, as the creature whipped around. Sylvia felt terrible pain. Flipping over, her head struck the pavement as its tail whipped around, catching her legs and knocking them out from underneath her. Head throbbing in pain, she watched from the pavement. The thing escaped with lightning speed down the alleyway. More shots were fired as one cop ran to the entrance of the alley firing into the dark alley in hopes of striking the beast. The other cop knelt in front of her. Holding on to consciousness long enough, she heard the cop call for an ambulance.

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