Archive | January 2016


It’s my pleasure to feature fellow Clean Reads author, Kimbra Kasch:


When did you first realize you wanted to be a writer?

 When I was about 6 months old and my Mom handed me my first baby book.(He-he) sometimes I think that’s true.But, seriously, I grew up in a family with nine kids and only one TV. That math just doesn’t add up. So, I’ve always loved books. For entertainment, sometimes I’d read a book a day. It wasn’t long before I started writing my own stories and poems.

What genre(s) do you write?

I just LOVE to write. If I hear something and it sounds interesting, I write a story about it. I’ve written magazine articles about gardening, cooking, skating, horseback riding and more.Lately I’ve been writing romance: New Adult romance, Young Adult romance, a lot of romance.

How many books have you written and how many of those have been published?

 Well over 100, if I count all the way back to third-grade. (He-he) But over the last few years, I’ve written six full-length books. I’ve only had three of them published… But I’m not giving up on any of those unpublished books. I’m still trying to find publishers. So, if you’re a publisher…I’ve got a drawer full of stories just waiting for you.

How many hours a day do you devote to writing?

 There’s never enough time in a day to do everything I want to do. I have a fulltime job and a family so sometimes there’s no time left at the end of the day to write. But usually I can squeeze an hour in at the end of the day to write…usually very late at night.

What’s more important: character or plot?

 For me, it’s all about character. Those people speak to me…late at night, usually when I’m lying in bed falling asleep…sometimes it’s a little scary.

What is the hardest part of writing?

 See 4 and 5 above. The hardest part is that horrible four-letter word…T.I.M.E.

It’s the most difficult to simply find time to write.

What does your family think of your writing?

Well, it was my oldest son who encouraged me to start writing. As he was packing to head off to college, he told me, “Mom, you need to get a life.”See, my kids had been my life for so long that I forgot what I used to enjoy. And, I had to think back…to that little third-grader who used to write stories…

What do you like to do when you’re not writing?

See 4, 5 and 6 above. I love to spend time with my family and sometimes I even like to sleep…both of these things are difficult to do if you’re a writer. Because of that horrible four-letter word…T.I.M.E. Somehow it manages to slip through my hands every day.And, on top of writing, spending time with my family and sleeping, I like to run, sew, knit, and cook.I’m a bit of a foodie. I probably inherited that from my Mom. She used to have her own version of Food Network’s CHOPPED, every day.Mom could throw the strangest ingredients together, in a mixing bowl, and manage to make a tasty meal for nine kids and grandma too.So, even today I don’t follow recipes. I make up my own. And, when I find something I like, I WRITE it down. Did I mention I like to write? ;DOh, and I love to eat. That’s why I like to run because I need too. It’s a vicious cycle.

What authors do you like to read?

For romance, I enjoy, like everyone else, Veronica Roth’s Divergent series, Charlaine Harris’s True Blood series, Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander series and Suzanne Collins Hunger Games series. But on top of those romance writers I love Stephen King, Dean Koontz, and John Saul. But I also love old classics like Laura Ingalls Wilder, Edgar Allan Poe, Dante, L. Frank Baum and many many more.Did I say “I love books”?

Do you have future projects in mind?

 Yes. Always. I’m constantly listening to those characters speaking to me and someday I’ll write all their stories down. The only problem is that horrible four-letter word again…T.I.M.E. And somehow managing to keep it from slipping through my fingers.  See #6 above.



Here’s some info about Kimbra’s new release – The Cats of Cullaby Creek

Love is in the Air, something else is in the water…

CatsofCullabyCreek_453x680 cover (1)


When Savannah meets Kyle, its love at first sight. And why wouldn’t it be? He’s perfect, as far as she can tell. But Kyle appears whenever things go wrong. Maybe he isn’t everything she thought he was. It’s a complete mystery until she discovers the water in Cullaby Creek is being bottled and sold as vitamin “infused” water. Mistic Water promises the impossible. And then, like a magical elixir, it delivers. People who drink it feel younger, smarter, faster…healthier. But it doesn’t take long before side effects hit. Literally. The secret has to be in the water…or is it something more?



Kelly and Kyle

These two shared some sort of history. And now I was in the middle of their story.

Sparks flew through the air. But, they didn’t seem to notice—or maybe they just didn’t care how uncomfortable they were making the rest of us.

I scanned the room. The terribly odd thing was that while they stood in the center of the cafeteria—arguing—everyone’s eyes were on me.

What is so interesting about me?

After a few seconds, I heard whispered accusations slammed back and forth, like a ping-pong ball. My name, muttered in odd and angry tones. No one seemed to mind staring at me, but only the bravest few were sneaking sideways glances over at Kelly and Kyle, hoping no one noticed.

This wasn’t what I needed on my first day at a new school. I hadn’t come here looking for instant enemies, but I knew I’d accidentally stirred a private pot and things were already starting to boil.

I needed to do something and quick. From the sounds floating around me, if they got into an actual argument, I was going to get the blame.

I spit out the first words I could think to say, “What’s a new kid to do, after school, around here… for fun?”

Kyle sighed and chuckled, “That depends on what you’re hoping to find and what you think is fun.” He stepped back away from Kelly for a moment. “You big city kids always think something needs to be going on. But in real life, in a small town, not much ever happens.”

“We could ask my Mom to drive us into Astoria to do some shopping,” I suggested. It was a little too obvious—even to me—Kelly wanted me out of the picture and was trying everything she could think of to keep me away from Kyle. I almost felt sorry for her—but only for a second.

“Or,” Kyle sat down and nodded for me to join him. I could feel a warm rush of air and his scent worked its way up inside my head. I barely heard him finish, “We could go for a run.”

“What?” Kelly demanded, clenching her hands into tight-balled fists at her side.

“Savannah,” Kyle lowered his voice and said my name slow, putting an emphasis on the last syllable, like it was a soft sigh, ‘ah’. And, for the first time in my life, I loved the sound of my own name. “Is a runner. And she’s fast. Aren’t ‘cha?” He nudged me and moved even closer. I could barely think. His smell overpowered my senses; it was the sweet woodsy scent of him that took me by surprise. I closed my eyes and drank it in.

When I opened them back up, Kelly’s eyes were shooting red flames of rage straight at me.

I gazed at Kyle and felt a warmth in my stomach again. It was working its way up into my chest. “That’s not what you said this morning,” I laughed then spun away.

“You two went running this morning?” Her voice came out in a squeak that broke into a high-pitched screech, like fingernails on a chalkboard.

“Yeah,” Kyle said casually, then back to me he added, “And, I’d like to see how fast you are.”

I wondered if everything he said was going to have a double meaning but I wasn’t ready to question his motives. He was my only real friend in this place, and it looked like I was going to need a few because I was making more than a few enemies, without even trying.

“I could use the exercise,” I nodded, looking around the table at the other kids’ faces and wondering why no one else had said a single word. “Plus, you could show me around the town.”

“No problem,” Kyle agreed, and I couldn’t help looking forward to it, even though I knew Kelly wasn’t going to be happy about my running off with Kyle. “But I only think it’s fair to warn you, there’s not much to see—so don’t get your hopes set too high.”

“Great—I mean about the exercise,” I smiled, and without even thinking how it might sound, I added, “Then it’s a date.”

Kelly only heard one word and it was like I’d pulled back a rubber band—hard—and snapped it against her forehead.

She wailed like a wounded animal, “Agghhh!” and spun around on her heels, stomping out of the room.

Kyle shrugged and started to walk toward the exit, then he twisted around to call out, “I’ll meet you out by the flag post after seventh period.” His lips curled softly, throwing me a quick backwards nod, “And, remember, it’s a date.” The last thing I saw was his warm, sensual grin, as he glanced around the room before he gave me an exaggerated wink—meant more for everyone else to see than for me, and then he disappeared out into the hall.

I wished he would have used a different word because he didn’t need to rub it in.

I shrugged. Who cares? I told myself, he’s been the nicest person in the entire school. If it weren’t for Kyle, I wouldn’t want to ever come back to Mist High.

The rest of the day dragged on and on. All I wanted was to see Kyle again, with his sleek body and powerful frame. But what I found fascinating was the casual way he had about himself. He said whatever he wanted, while I worried about everything I said, how it would be taken, and what people would think of me.

Somehow, Kyle was working his way into my system, like a powerful drug. And I was beginning to feel addicted. I couldn’t wait for our meeting out by the flag post.

Finally, after what seemed like absolutely for…ev…er, the bell rang.

I rushed out of class, down the hall, and out the front doors of the school to meet up with Kyle.

But as I got closer, my spine tingled. Something was wrong. I could feel it. Then I knew why.

Kyle wasn’t standing underneath the flagpole; someone else was there, waiting for me.

“Kelly,” I muttered under my breath.

She stood beneath the red, white, and blue banner with an enormous grin carved into her face, like a giant jack-o-lantern beaming up at me. But this look was way more sinister and gloating. My knees suddenly felt weak and my throat went dry.

This girl just kept surprising me.

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This entry was posted on January 28, 2016. 2 Comments



  • Sara is originally from Clarksville, TN where she currently resides with her family. Graduating with a B.S. in Biology, she first pursued a career in the field of Zoo Education. She also enjoyed a short stint working in the field of Sleep Medicine. However, her great love of the written word drew her to write. She is an avid reader and enjoys reading and writing Historical Fiction. Her travels have also served to inspire her writing. Sara is the author of The Lady Bornekova and a member of the ACFW.
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Ismene, a beautiful, somewhat naïve, young noblewoman, is torn from her childhood home in Greece and her first love. Bound by honor and duty, she marries Pharaoh’s chief military commander, Alistair. Though determined to remain true to the man she left behind, her new husband stirs feelings in her she cannot ignore.

Attempting to accept this brazen new culture, it isn’t long before she discovers that the locals don’t like her. The Alexandrian mob starts making anonymous threats. This faceless group will stop at nothing to achieve its goal of driving out the unwelcome Greeks. In the midst of these heightening attacks, the general must leave for battle. Ismene fears that she is on her own.

Evidence of a spy within her own household arises. It soon becomes apparent that one of these Egyptian rebels wants her dead. The safety of Ismene, and possibly the entire ruling class of Egypt, hangs in the balance.


A frown was etched into Alistair’s features. The sight before him caused his whole body to tense up. It was a sight that had greeted his staff early that morning. Neterka had been the only one brave enough to bring him out there to see it.

“Get it off,” he said, each word enunciated and pushed out of his mouth with force. There were plenty of servants gathered around, but he spoke to no one in particular.

On the inner wall of their great garden two symbols, two words, were splayed across the wall in what could only be blood. The thick, red, viscous liquid had dried as it ran, in stripes reaching to the ground.

A din of whispered conversation among the servants could be heard, but only just. No one wanted to speak out for fear of enraging the general further. Many of the servants were unable to read Greek and had no idea what important message was scarred into their master’s most prized sanctuary. As if the vandalism alone wasn’t enough to evoke a great anger in him, the message itself had pushed him closer to the edge of violence. They had never seen their kind master in such a state.

“What is everybody…” Ismene’s voice interrupted their musings. No one, not even Alistair, had even noticed that she had arrived at the grand estate, least of all made it all the way out to the gardens. Her voice, which started light and happy, trailed off as she noticed the source of everyone’s fixation.

There were many audible gasps as the servants, like Alistair, turned and saw Ismene’s paled face, her mouth moving as if trying to form words, though none came forth.

Alistair rushed over to her, “Ismene, don’t look…it’s…” he said, trying to turn her away, to go back in direction she had just come.

It was only then that he realized—the message—it was for her. Ismene and Alonah came to the gardens each day to check on her tiger lilies. This wall faced the entrance into the gardens closest to her bedchambers, the entrance she came through every day. How did anyone outside of his house and Pharaoh’s know that? His heart sank. There was a leak in one of these houses.

Ismene stood her ground, refusing to let Alistair turn her away. She was shaking.

“Who…what…I don’t understand,” she managed after several seconds. As she glanced up at him, he could see tears in her dark eyes as she repeated the terrible words that were written there. “Go home?”

His heart ached for her.

“Who wants me to go home?” she asked, voice breaking, clearly injured by the implications.

He pulled her into his firm embrace.

She began to cry.

“Shh, shh.” He soothed her, rubbing her shoulders. “It’s all right. It doesn’t mean anything.”

He knew it wasn’t all right. She was in a foreign land, a place she was still having great difficulty adjusting to—a place where she was surrounded by people she didn’t know and who were so different from her. She was still adapting to these new people, a new culture, a new way of doing things, a new government…a new way of life. This must have been her worst fear confirmed. Not only did she not know these people, not only were they foreign in many ways, they did not want her here.

He kissed the top of her head. “Don’t give it any thought, Ismene. Remember last night. Remember how the people cheered for you. They loved you!”

Her crying stilled for a moment.

“This is the work of one person who is dissatisfied with me and is doing this to get back at me. This is not about you. I promise,” he lied. He was quite certain this was at least the truth in part. But he feared that it may be the work of the Alexandrian mob and it may well be aimed at her.

Ismene allowed him to comfort her a little longer, but before he was ready to let go, she started to pull away. With reluctance, he released his hold on her. He then tugged on her arm more firmly until she was facing the direction she had just come, her back to the wall and the horrible message.

“Alonah, please take the Lady Ismene to her bedchambers. I’ll have some refreshments brought for her.” He made sure that there was no room for argument in his voice.

Alonah took Ismene’s arm and led her back inside, away from the small crowd and the offensive markings.

Alistair watched them go. Once they were inside and a safe distance away, he spun back toward the small crowd of servants.

“Get. It. Off.” His voice sharp and his words heated; the words penetrated the air, thick with apprehension, before he stormed off.


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This entry was posted on January 21, 2016. 2 Comments

New Release from Clean Reads






See the trailer:









ClaireLee’s life changes when she must take charge of her siblings after her mother becomes depressed from a difficult childbirth. Frightened by the way Mama sleeps too much and her crying spells during waking hours, she just knows she’ll catch her illness like a cold or flu that hangs on through winter. ClaireLee finds comfort in the lies she tells herself and others in order to hide the truth about her erratic mother. Deciding she needs to re-invent herself, she sets out to impress a group of popular girls.

With her deception, ClaireLee weaves her way into the Lavender Girls Club, the most sophisticated girls in school. Though, her best friend Belinda will not be caught with the likes of such shallow puddles, ClaireLee ignores Belinda’s warnings the Lavenders cannot be trusted. ClaireLee drifts further from honesty, her friend, and a broken mother’s love, until one very public night at the yearly school awards ceremony. The spotlight is on her, and she finds her courage and faces the truth and then ClaireLee saves her mother’s life.




As ClaireLee washed and dried her shaky hands at the kitchen
sink, the wind howled and the cabin creaked. Dark corners played
mean tricks on her imagination. She pressed on her stomach. The
knots there were growing into boulders. Glancing at the
woodstove, she needed to check it.

Upon inspection, ClaireLee found the fire needed feeding.
Only bark chips and debris lay scattered in an empty wood box.
Venturing outside in search for the log pile was not the answer. Not
in the dark. Not by herself. Not without Mama. A shiver slid from
her neck and spread through her back. The river and wind teamed
together in a frenzy, sounding like a beast ready to gulp them—
cabin and all.


JacketPhotoJean 07 2015 (1)


Author Jean Ann Williams, the eldest in a large family, enjoys digging into her fascinating childhood to create stories for children. Having written over one hundred articles for children and adults, this is her first book. Jean Ann and her husband live on one acre where they raise a garden, goats, and chickens. Her favorite hobbies are hiking through the woods and practicing archery with her bow.


Jean’s blog:

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This entry was posted on January 14, 2016. 3 Comments


Like most people, I feel energized at the beginning of a new year. I’m eager to start fresh or perhaps sharpen my determination to complete unfinished projects left behind clogging my mental and physical space.

Always a planner, I would never jump into a new endeavor without my checklist and pen, so taking the time to focus and list my goals for 2016 is a necessary step for me to embrace the next three hundred sixty-five days. When this year ends, I’d like to have tangible proof (perhaps a new release) of the time and energy I put into my writing. I want to be able to say I took a leap of faith and experienced things I didn’t try in years past because of my timidity. I want to share my accomplishments proudly. But wait, I’m getting ahead of myself.

I’ve been to conferences (national and local), pitched my manuscripts, supported fellow authors in their endeavors, volunteered, and most importantly captured my characters and storylines on paper. I will continue to do these things in 2016, but I also want to challenge myself to have new experiences, to check some items off my author bucket list. With that said, I want to share with you three goals I have chosen for this year:
1 – find opportunities that will enable me to become more visible as an author on a local level
2 – participate in NaNoWriMo (national novel writing month – takes place every November)
3 – risk rejection and enter my newest release (Taking A Chance On Love) in several book contests

How about you? Do you share my need for control with paper and pen or do you leap into a new year with reckless abandon taking life as it comes? Comment below and you’ll be in a drawing for my newest release, Taking A Chance On Love.

Taking A Chance On Love_1400X2100



This entry was posted on January 8, 2016. 2 Comments