Well, it's hump day again, so it's time to keep on with our new tradition here at TSR
and have a little fun and playing Hollywood Dream Cast!
Haven't you ever read a book and thought it would make an awesome movie?
Maybe you brainstormed who would play which character?

Well, here's the scoop. Every week, on Wednesday, we'll pick a book and assign it
OUR DREAM CAST for that book!

Twenty-year-old Camryn Bennett had always been one to think out-of-the-box, who knew she wanted something more in life than following the same repetitive patterns and growing old with the same repetitive life story. And she thought that her life was going in the right direction until everything fell apart.

Determined not to dwell on the negative and push forward, Camryn is set to move in with her best friend and plans to start a new job. But after an unexpected night at the hottest club in downtown North Carolina, she makes the ultimate decision to leave the only life she’s ever known, far behind.

With a purse, a cell phone and a small bag with a few necessities, Camryn, with absolutely no direction or purpose boards a Greyhound bus alone and sets out to find herself. What she finds is a guy named Andrew Parrish, someone not so very different from her and who harbors his own dark secrets. But Camryn swore never to let down her walls again. And she vowed never to fall in love.




                                                                                                            Buy The Book:

Win a signed paperback copy of AMIDST THE TRAFFIC
 by Michel Sauret!

Contest from 1/28 - 2/04.  Scroll below to read about the book and enter.



About the Book 


“Amidst Traffic” is a collection of high-caliber short fiction, compiled from Michel’s best work over the years. Some of these stories have appeared in literary journals and publications internationally. Every piece is crafted with a sense of compassion for the human spirit, while seeking answers about the conflicts we experience in everyday life. The characters inside will make you care about their struggles and hope for their redemption. But the most compelling aspect of this collection is how the ink from one story bleeds into another, creating a world of interconnected storylines. The lives of these characters don’t exist inside a fictional vacuum. Amidst the traffic of their chaotic lives, a larger picture will take shape around them. These stories will leave you in awe, move you emotionally and make you reflect on the impact your own life has on others.

Michel Sauret was born in Rome, Italy, and is a graduate of the University of Pittsburgh's English Writing department. He published his first novel, "Breathing God," at the age of 18, and has been serving as a public affairs specialist and journalist for the U.S. Army since 2004.

His work has won several journalism awards, including the Keith L. Ware, giving him the title of Army Journalist of the Year in 2008.  His short story, "Lost in the Night" appeared in the anthology, "Best New Writing, 2008" and his story, "Three Straws" earned honorable mention in the Monty Culver Award in 2010.

Michel's literary writing style evokes strong emotions and compelling characters who often battle inner struggles. His aim is to create stories that grab readers by the collar and bring them into the high intensity and emotional curves of the storyline. His writing can often be incredibly lyrical and playful, and he loves surprising his readers with unexpected developments.

Can't wait for the giveaway? Buy the book here:

Sorry, but due to shipping cost, paperback prize is for US entrants only. International entrants will be eligible for the ebook instead.

Reader Review:  "A story of several lives intertwined by fate and how love and deception entangled them. It sweeps you along with its flow just as the flow of the river uncovers the key to life and identity for Lea. An enjoyable and thought provoking ride."  --Jim



Kindle: $2.99
Paperback: $8.97




                                         THE BOOK


In the mid-19th century, Leonie Monroe Russell works alongside her husband, Junius, an oysterman in Shoalwater Bay in the Pacific Northwest. At night she continues her father’s lifelong obsession: collecting artifacts and studying the native culture that once thrived in the Washington Territory.

On her 37th birthday, Leonie discovers a mummy protruding from the riverbank bordering her property--a mummy that by all evidence shouldn’t exist. As Leonie searches for answers to the mummy’s origins, she begins to feel a mystical connection to it that defies all logic. Leonie’s sense that otherworldly forces are at work only grows when news of the incredible discovery brings Junius’s long lost son, Daniel, to her doorstep. Upon his unexpected arrival, a native elder insists that Leonie wear a special shell bracelet for protection. But protection from whom? The mummy? Or perhaps Daniel?

Leonie has always been a good daughter and good wife, but for the first time, these roles do not seem to be enough. Finding the mummy has changed everything, and now Leonie must decide if she has the courage to put aside the expectations of others to be the woman she was meant to be.

From award-winning author Megan Chance, Bone River is a haunting, lyrical tale of passion and identity.

-- Shaheen Ashraf-Ahmed


Whenever I look at black and white photographs of my parents' families in India, there is a crowd staring out at me: great-uncles and aunts, grandparents and babies, squeezed together into the frame. They lived together in the same family compound, ruled over by an aging matriarch or patriarch.

Their extended family situation meant that a wedding was a triumph shared by all, prospective brides and grooms required to impress many future in-laws, fabric swatches and jewelry designs argued about over breakfast, the peace enforced by family elders by dusk.

      A new job was a boost to the collective finances, the money dropped into the purse of the family head, to be redistributed as needed between siblings and their wives. Cousins of the same gender took their afternoon nap together, crowded on a narrow cot in the soothing shade, or sat in courtyards under the stars, playing cards into the night. New babies were shuttled and rocked in untiring arms.

      When I look at those photos and think of the sheer press of humanity living under one roof, it is always a shock to think of my parents' wedding, thousands of miles away in a London bedsit. A meal was prepared with love by a handful of newly arrived transplants from India and Pakistan. It was cooked on a small stove without the traditional and obscure ingredients necessary, so that the food was, while delicious, no more than a memory of what it should have been. There were no servants to prepare vats of biryani and salaans, stirring and grinding spices for days before the event, no lights strung up outside the house, no groups of traditional singers to proclaim the impending joy of a wedding to the whole neighborhood.

      My mother and father married in a simple ceremony in a one-bedroom flat, with white sheets laid over the carpet to cover the stains and cigarette smell. My mother wore a red sari, light in embellishments, which she had brought in her suitcase, and my father placed a simple wedding bend from a local shop on her ring finger. It was a cold October day, and after the ceremony, my mother put on a long coat over her sari and my parents walked to the second-hand car dealership and purchased their first car. My grandfather had to wait several weeks for an airmail letter to read an account of his daughter's wedding; the photos, when they finally arrived, were pored over and commented upon and brought out proudly for guests to praise.

      My parents belonged to an intrepid generation that gave up communal living and tight family bonds in India and Pakistan to find new opportunities in the West.  There was a lack of job opportunity in their homeland at the time and bribery and corruption were rife. In the West, the allocation of visas to citizens of the former British Commonwealth and new immigration laws in North America meant that hundreds of thousands of people like my mother and father were able to seek out a better life for themselves in England, America and Canada in the 1950s and 1960s.

      In England, the expansion of the British economy and the ensuing labor shortage at this time meant that job opportunities were opened up to engineers and other candidates with specialized skills from the former Commonwealth countries. In the 1960s, the British National Health Service was actively recruiting medical professionals, like my mother, to meet the demand for doctors. In America, the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965 prioritized entry for immigrants with advanced degrees or family relationships with US citizens.

      For many South Asians, the destiny of successive generations was based on which country approved an application first—on which letter arrived first at the post office in the 1950s or 1960s, addressed to an eagerly waiting young man or woman. My father-in-law was waiting for a letter from Canada, but his US application was approved first; my uncle's visa for America came before his English one; my father was allowed to look for work as an electrical engineer in England and my mother was given permission to join him and take up a position as a doctor at a local hospital. The formerly tight-knit communities of Lucknow, Hyderabad and Karachi were scattering across the western hemisphere.

      Once they arrived at their fated destination, like the Irish and the West Indian immigrants before them, South Asian immigrants quickly adapted to their new environment and welcomed their relatives to join them, building communities and establishing places of worship and lines of retail that met their unique needs. They had to adjust to an unfamiliar climate, food and clothing, and an utterly foreign—and profound—sense of isolation. I heard of a family that regularly drove to O'Hare Airport, in Chicago, Illinois, in the hopes of hearing someone speak Urdu, convincing that unknown traveler to come to their home and have dinner with them.

      My parents' generation often had to overlook indignities to gain a foothold in their new country of residence: my uncle spent his first night in America looking for a hotel in which to accommodate his tired family. As a light-skinned doctor with excellent English, he had no trouble booking a double room. However, when his sari-clad wife entered the hotel with their three small children, they were soon told that there had been a mistake and there was no space left.

      There is no margin for error when you have uprooted and traveled halfway across the world with no safety net to cushion you from your failings. I can't tell you how many stories I've heard from first generation Indians and Pakistanis who came with meager savings and were down to their last pound or dollar before they found a job, an experience no doubt common to immigrants everywhere. All it took was one lucky break or a fortuitous connection, and they were able to stay and build a life, bringing wives, having children, calling over siblings and extended relatives until a family tree flourished on fresh soil.

My father came to England with £10 in his pocket. He knocked on many doors to get his first job, but it was a chance encounter with the foreman of an electrical engineering plant that led to his lucky break. The foreman had spent some of his childhood in India under British rule and his warm reminisces with my father about the old days in India stirred him to ask my father if he needed a job. Just in time, my father had a salary that would pay his rent.

      The new arrivals settled and made themselves a new home, but they still longed for India and Pakistan, for the happy chatter of family and friends who dropped by at a moment's notice and who stayed up talking late into the night, for ripe fruit that was not available at any English greengrocer or American store, for a connection to a community they had lost. They talked of going back, but as children were born, grew, and entered schools in the new land, the idea became an increasingly elusive dream.

They maintained their relationships with aging parents over the years that came, through sporadic visits and by blue airmail letters, the Urdu script spidering over every side, cramming in a lifetime of new memories, the senders trying to share what could not be shared, their readers trying to grasp what they could no longer experience.

      They learned of loss, too, through these thin blue missives: the passing away of parents they had not seen for so long and now never would. For a culture that prides itself on honoring the elderly, this break in tradition and loss of precious time with parents must have been particularly heartbreaking. A family friend told me of how she learned of her father's death in a letter; I think of her throwing on a thin coat to brave the bitter chill of a Chicago winter, pushing her sleeping baby in his pram in front of her blindly for hours, tears streaming down her face, not realizing where she was walking, and that it was already too late to get there.

      As my parents' generation reaches their own old age, they can only try to assess what was gained by the decision to uproot. There is no time now to make up for the losses; there is no time to go back and adapt yet again to a country that has rapidly changed without them—the vacations back to India have taught them that. Many have now lived many more years in the West than they ever did in India or Pakistan and there are now children and grandchildren they could not bear to leave behind.

My parents have achieved everything they set out to do, and my generation has benefited. They will always be nostalgic for a feeling of belonging that second and third generation children of immigrants, like me, can only begin to comprehend. Whenever I open the photo albums and stare at those sepia photographs of my distant forefathers and mothers, I can see what my parents gave up, but I can only guess at what haunts their dreams.


                                                                            

Shaheen Ashraf-Ahmed writes about emigration and assimilation in her literary and historical fiction. She is the author of A Deconstructed Heart and The Purana Qila Stories: The Dust Beneath Her Feet and A Change in the Weather.

                                                                             Books by Shaheen Asraf-Ahmed

Well, it's hump day again, so it's time to keep on with our new tradition here at TSR
and have a little fun and playing Hollywood Dream Cast!
Haven't you ever read a book and thought it would make an awesome movie?
Maybe you brainstormed who would play which character?

Well, here's the scoop. Every week, on Wednesday, we'll pick a book and assign it
OUR DREAM CAST for that book!

--TM Souders

Today, I decided to write a more informal post, something that I rarely, if ever, do on this site. But I am writing this post for a reason: because I truly enjoy connecting with other readers and seeing, not only what they're reading now, but what they're thinking about it. After finishing The Host, (for the second time. Sorry, to all the non-Meyer fans, but I LOVE it.) it took me a while to pick out a book that I was interested in. So, I went on my Kindle and started browsing through the titles, and low and behold, John Greene's The Fault In Our Stars was staring back at me, and I knew that was the one. 

I was right.

After only an hour or so of reading--I lost track of time--I was more than hooked by the voice and style of his writing. And, of course, his story line. I'm already in awe of Hazel's strength and courage and love that she sounds and acts so much like a teenager, and I'm already smitten with Augustus, just as Hazel is. This will probably be my choice for next week's Hollywood Dream Cast, because I know that when I finish the book, I'll be in love with the characters and want to choose faces for them. Things cannot possibly end well for Hazel, I know that, and when they don't, I'll be crying like a baby.

Now that I've shared a little bit about what I'm reading with you, please join in! What are you reading right now? And, more importantly, what are your thoughts on it? After all, what is a book worth if it doesn't make you feel something?

Win a signed paperback copy of FREEDOM ROAD - a USA Best Book Award-Winning Finalist, YA Fiction 20, by T.M. Souders!

Contest from 1/21 - 1/28.  Scroll below to read about the book and enter. 


                        
                                        About the Book


**FINALIST, USA Book Awards, Young Adult Fiction, 2012**

A father’s selfish demands, broken booze bottles, and falling-down mothers are everyday fixtures in eighteen-year-old Samantha Becker’s life. Armed with her guitar and music to keep her comfort in a volatile world, Sam’s one dream to study classical guitar at Juilliard may very well be her salvation. But when her father’s careless actions lead to an “accident,” Sam’s ability to play the guitar dies along with her dreams of attending the renowned school. Losing all confidence in her future, Sam hides behind the emotional barriers that have protected her for years.

Just when Sam has given up, a budding friendship and an unexpected romance give her the hope she needs, forcing her to reevaluate all she’s ever known. With fresh conviction, Sam battles her father’s plans for her future, band mates using her for personal gain, and a permanent injury. But will it be enough? Julliard auditions are almost here. Time’s running out, and Sam must re-learn to play the guitar or give up her dreams forever.



                                                                                       About the Author


T.M. Souders was born in Johnstown, PA and grew up in the suburbs outside of Pittsburgh.  She graduated in 2004, from Youngstown State University, with a degree in Psychology and minor in Women’s Studies.  She is the author of bestselling women’s fiction novel,Waiting on Hope, as well as the novelette Dashing Through The Snow, and the newly released YA/crossover, Freedom Road . She is the founder of The Serious Reader, a site dedicated to connecting with readers, one book at a time. She currently lives in rural Ohio with her husband and children. When she is not writing or spending time with her family, T.M. volunteers for the World Literary Cafe, a site dedicated to helping authors and uniting authors and readers.

Editiorial Review: "A thrilling, haunting, and deeply romantic story."  -Rachel Hore, internationally bestselling author of The Memory Garden


                                 *Special Price*
  
Kindle: $1.99
Nook: $1.99
Paperback: $11.55



                                 THE BOOK


"Whatever time we have," he said, "it will be time enough."

Eva Ward returns to the only place she truly belongs, the old house on the Cornish coast, seeking happiness in memories of childhood summers. There she finds mysterious voices and hidden pathways that sweep her not only into the past, but also into the arms of a man who is not of her time.

But Eva must confront her own ghosts, as well as those of long ago. As she begins to question her place in the present, she comes to realize that she too must decide where she really belongs.

From Susanna Kearsley, author of the New York Times bestseller The Winter Sea and a voice acclaimed by fans of Gabaldon, du Maurier, and Niffenegger alike, The Rose Garden is a haunting exploration of love, family, the true meaning of home, and the ties that bind us together.

Can a woman ever really know herself if she doesn’t know her mother?


From the author of the smash-hit bestseller Firefly Lane and True Colors comes a powerful, heartbreaking novel that illuminates the intricate mother-daughter bond and explores the enduring links between the present and the past

Meredith and Nina Whitson are as different as sisters can be. One stayed at home to raise her children and manage the family apple orchard; the other followed a dream and traveled the world to become a famous photojournalist. But when their beloved father falls ill, Meredith and Nina find themselves together again, standing alongside their cold, disapproving mother, Anya, who even now, offers no comfort to her daughters. As children, the only connection between them was the Russian fairy tale Anya sometimes told the girls at night. On his deathbed, their father extracts a promise from the women in his life: the fairy tale will be told one last time—and all the way to the end. Thus begins an unexpected journey into the truth of Anya’s life in war-torn Leningrad, more than five decades ago. Alternating between the past and present, Meredith and Nina will finally hear the singular, harrowing story of their mother’s life, and what they learn is a secret so terrible and terrifying that it will shake the very foundation of their family and change who they believe they are.

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