A Young Adult book from Kent Wayne. Well worth a read whatever your age.
You can read my 5*review of this book here.
A Young Adult book from Kent Wayne. Well worth a read whatever your age.
You can read my 5*review of this book here.

OVERVIEW
I am a fan of this young writer, and this book is as good as the others I’ve read. It is Book 2 in a horror series, and is as scary as Book 1.
BLURB
In New Haven, everything is changing. And there’s no going back now.
It’s been weeks since Allison went missing, and everyone has given up except for Kaia. New Haven mourns their dead as she keeps looking. And now, she’s starting to find answers.
As the unsolved cases pile up, a new discovery in the forest offers hope. But it also threatens to unbury all of New Haven’s darkest secrets.
For the Woods family, it will take everything they have. For Kaia, it’s the last chance.
There are some shadows you can’t keep underground.
STORY
In book 1, Kaia’s best friend, Alison, has disappeared into an abandoned house on the outskirts of the town. This house has been long-feared, and mysterious lights are often seen there.
After searching for Alison, the townsfolk and the sheriff presume her to be dead.
In this book, we learn that Kaia does not believe her friend is dead, and determines to find Alison.
With a mystery boy, who appears not to know things any normal boy would know (even about baseball) and the letters from an unknown source, we are plunged into a world of monstrous happenings.
Is Alison alive? Did her new husband kill her, as he claims? What is lurking in the old house, and will it venture forth to wreak havoc on the town?
I don’t want to give away too much, so I’ll stop there.
CHARACTERS
There are many characters in this book, all of whom relate their bits of the story. This isn’t confusing, as David Kummer devotes a clearly named chapter to each.
Kaia is filled with anxiety for her friend. She has put off going to university for a year after the traumatic events of the previous few weeks. She is clearly suffering from PTSD.
We see Malaki, Alison’s husband, gradually descend into madness after he and Alison visited the house, and their experiences there.
Naomi Woods is Kaia’s mother. She is a strong woman who will give everything to protect her children. This is a strength and a weakness.
Rhys is a mysterious boy. He was found in book 1 walking along the road at night and was taken in by the Woods family. They can find out nothing about him. He also has little, if any, knowledge of 21st century USA. We see him learning about the modern world.
There are many other characters, all complex with their own agendas, but to analyse them all would make this review far too long. You need to read the books yourselves to find out.
WRITING
David Kummer does an excellent job of building tension. The oppressive heat of the summer seems to weigh on the characters, creating the feeling of waiting for something to happen, be it simply rain, or something deadly from the house. This feeling permeates the whole book.
There are a few grammatical errors, but not enough to spoil my pleasure in reading. But I do wish authors would learn how to use ‘lay’ and ‘lie’!
I gave this book 4* and thoroughly recommend it and Book 1.
My ranking of books. In order to get a particular number of stars, it is not necessary to meet all the criteria. This is a guide only.
5* Exceptional. Wonderful story. Setting well drawn, and characters believable–not perfect, but with flaws. Will keep you up all night. No typos or grammatical errors.
4* A thoroughly enjoyable read. Great and original story. Believable setting and characters. Very few grammatical errors or typos.
3* I enjoyed it. Good story. Characters need some development. Some typos or grammatical errors.
2* Not for me. Story not very strong. Unbelievable and flat characters. Setting not clearly defined. Many typos or grammatical errors.
1* I hated it. Story almost non-existent. Setting poor. Possibly couldn’t finish it.
Do you enjoy the horror genre? It’s not something I usually go for, but I an really enjoying this series, Can ‘t wait until book 3 comes out.
Another novella in my Wolves of Vimar prequels. This one is number 4, and is called Horselords. It tells of how Kimi and Davrael met.
It went for editing, but the next thing I knew, I heard that it was being formatted. I can only assume that the edit went well and there was nothing untoward found. That’s amazing, but I must thank the people on Scribophile who helped by critiquing it.
I accepted the formatting, and today received the suggested blurb and cover.
I rejected both!
The blurb mentioned nothing about the romance between Davrael and Kimi and the difficulties they had. This is mainly what the book is about so it should be in the blurb.
The cover showed a girl looking much younger than Kimi, who is 16 at the beginning. Her clothing is wrong, not what she would have worn, and the horse isn’t the piebald Kimi rides. So I can’t actually show you anything.
Apologies for that, but as soon as I get something suitable, you will be the first to see it.
I have a review to post, but I wanted to tell you where we are with the publishing.

Today is Armistice Day. World War 1 ended at 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month.
I wrote a poem to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the end of WW1. I’ve published it before on Dragons Rule OK, and make no apologies for re-publishing it now.
For those of you who haven’t seen it before, I hope you enjoy it and that it makes you think of the futility of war. And to those of you who remember it, similarly.
War is evil and should never happen. It’s always a result of greed and/or hatred; two emotions that should be relegated to the deepest depths of Hell. And as all wars end in talks, why not begin there?
We Will Remember Them.
I’ll never truly understand
How World War I began.
The death of Archduke Ferdinand
Started the deaths of many more,
The young, the old, the rich, the poor.
All died with guns in hand.
My Grandad went with Uncle Jim
And Our Poor Willie, too.
They sent them off, singing a hymn.
Grandad went to Gallipoli,
Uncle Jim left his love, Polly.
Gas in trenches did kill him.
I cannot see, in my mind’s eye
Grandad with gun in hand.
A peaceful man, sent out to die.
He fought for us, for you and me
So we can live and so that we
Safely in our beds may lie.
Granddad came home, and Willie too,
But millions more did not.
Their duty they all had to do.
They died in fear, in noise, in blood.
Everything was caked in mud.
Yet in those fields the poppies grew.
The War to end all wars, they said,
So terrible were the deaths.
The youth of Europe all lay dead.
Yet 21 short years to come
Another war. Once more a gun
In young men’s hands brought death.
One hundred years have passed since then.
What have we learned? Not much!
Too many men are killing men.
Wars still abound around the world.
Bombs and missiles still are hurled
At those who disagree with them.
Uncle Jim was my Grandfather’s brother. I never knew him as I wasn’t born when he died.
‘Our poor Willie’ was what my grandmother said when referring to her brother. No one ever knew why he was ‘Our poor Willie’, except that she didn’t get on with his wife and thought she made his life difficult.
I hope you enjoyed my poem. I wish I thought it might make a difference to the terrible wars going on at the moment, but I’m just a teeny drop in a vast ocean. Sadly, my voice is only heard by a very few people.
Please let me know what you think in the comments box.
You can read more of my poetry by clicking on the cover in the side bar. This one comes from Miscellaneous Thoughts.
I received the edited copy of Horselords on Sunday. I’ve now sent the final copy back to my publisher. The next step is the formatting and cover.
This is the fourth of the prequels to my Wolves of Vimar series. This novella follows the story of Davrael and Kimi, telling how they met and the problems their love put them through.
So far, I’ve told of how Carthinal’s parents met (Jovinda and Noli), how Carthinal came to become a mage (The Making of a Mage), and the early life of Asphodel (Dreams of an Elf Maid).
Hopefully it won’t be too long now before I can share the cover with you.

Image by ApplesPC from Pixabay
As it’s Halloween today, I thought I’d write a little poem to celebrate it. We don’t do as much for Halloween in the U.K. as the people of the US do, but it’s beginning to creep in here. This year I’ve noticed a few people have decorated their houses.
Halloween
Witches gather their broomsticks
Putting on pointy hats.
Devils creep out from hell
As spiders build their webs.
Ghosts walk the streets
And skeletons leave their graves
Jack O’Lanterns grin
With fiery eyes that glow
A cold wind blows the leaves
As we shiver in our homes.
The darkness seems to creep
Beneath the gap below the door.
Ghostly sounds are heard.
And the doorbell rings
We huddle together in fear.
What horrors await outside?
We creep towards the door
And open it with care.
The ghosts and skeletons jump
Towards us with a screech.
The witches cackle loudly,
Jack O’Lantern held up high.
Then come the words we know

Image by Nisse Andersson from Pixabay
This is a new poem, but if you enjoyed it and would like to read more. simply click on the image in the side bar.
Currently, Next Chapter, my publisher, has discounts for people who buy 2 or more books in a series from Google Play Store
No coupon code is needed for these discounts: all customers who find Next Chapter books in the Google Play Store are able to use these discounts (as long as they buy 2 or more books in any one series at the same time).
Here’s a link to my One Poem a Day series if you are interested.

October is Black History Month and so I invited Yecheilyah Ysrayl to come on my blog.
I have been following Yecheilyah for a few years. She is a wonderful poet and a champion of Black writers, and Black people in general. She recently wrote a book about Black History and I thought it would be appropriate to have her tell us a bit about herself.
Welcome to my blog, Yecheilyah.
Apart from writing, what is the thing you enjoy doing the most?
Apart from writing, I enjoy traveling! Whether from state to state or country to country, there is something therapeutic about leaving the place of your origin to discover how people live in other parts of the world. Traveling even helps me to write.
Do you prefer the city or the country?
I prefer to live and settle in the countryside. I lived on over 40 acres of my husband’s elderly cousin’s land in Louisiana for five years and loved it. Even now, I live in a country-ish part of Georgia. Not entirely country, but country enough. The peace of birds singing and waking you up in the morning and the quiet of country living is also therapeutic. Nothing compares to the space to grow your garden and have animals roam your land. It reminds me of why my ancestors valued land ownership so much.
I do not prefer to live in the city, but I am a Chicago girl, born and raised, so I won’t act like I don’t still enjoy the hustle and bustle of the city. I still love the energy and how the city comes alive. In Atlanta, there is always something to do.
I agree. I much prefer the countryside.
If you weren’t a writer, what job would you do?
Before I dedicated my life entirely to writing and publishing (no 9-5), I was a certified Medical Assistant specializing in Phlebotomy so I would probably be doing that. I was also a teacher and enjoyed it more than the medical field, so I would definitely be somebody’s teacher somewhere. Even now I visit schools as an author-teacher on occasion.
That’s interesting. Teaching can be a most rewarding profession, whether at school or adult education. It’s great to see people growing as they learn.
I read your poetry book. I Am Soul and was greatly impressed by it. Why do you write poetry?
I write poetry because I think it’s the most honest language there is. (Yes, I said language.) There is something about it that makes people see beyond what they can see. And there is something about writing it that has always been a balm to my soul. I like to say that if you want to know someone’s heart, read their poems.
It’s very strange, but I’ve noticed that whenever I post a poem here it gets lots of views, but books of poetry don’t seem to sell. I suppose that poetry can influence people, just as other books we read, especially as children. The early books we read, I think, have a great influence on our reading later in life,
What is the first book you remember either reading or having read to you?
The first book I remember having read to me was the Bible by my mother. I don’t celebrate holidays today, but as a child, my mother would sit in front of us in a chair (we were in bed) during the Christmas holiday with this giant Bible that must have been passed down from generations because it was huge. My mother was always a small woman, so the book looked heavier than she was. Anyway, she would sit that thing in her lap and read it to us.
Wonderful memories, I’m sure.
If you could meet any 3 people, alive or dead, who would they be? Why?
If I could meet anyone, it would be my grandmother Margurite, Maya Angelou, James Baldwin, and Malcolm X. I know that’s four, but I didn’t want to leave anyone out. I would like to meet my maternal grandmother because she died before I was born, and I carry her name as my middle name. I would like to ask her questions about my history to better understand my mother and myself. When asked questions like this, we often overlook our own family members, whom we might not have had a chance to meet, and the wisdom they could impart to us. As for the other three, I mostly want to meet them because I admire their oratory skills. I love hearing how they spoke and articulated their thoughts, beliefs, and philosophies on life. While I don’t agree with everything they stood for, they each had a powerful passion and never allowed anyone to change their mind. Their rebuttals to questions in interviews were just masterful. You weren’t going to trip them up. I would love to talk to them about how they did it and soak up their wisdom.
You are correct about asking questions about your history. We should all ask those questions and not wait until it’s too late. I would also like to meet the others. All great people.
Why do you write?
As noble as it might sound to start this with how I write for others, the most honest answer is that I first write because it is healing to my individual self. It is a way to organize thoughts and feelings I might not have the words to say out loud. I write as a healing agent for myself first. After that, I write to restore the forgotten heritage to the forgotten people, first to Black people and then to all nations. My passion is to reclaim those lost stories that hold the key to our freedoms and shine the light of truth on them.
That is a wonderful goal, Y
Indeed it is, Yecheilyal. I hope you succeed in your ambitions on this front.
A question I can’t answer, myself. Where do you get your ideas from?
I think people see writers as these magical people who snatch ideas from the sky. And not that we are not magical, but most of our ideas, or at least mine, come from just living life. From seeing the extraordinary in the ordinary, the magic in the mundane. An idea can strike me as I am washing dishes or folding clothes. It can strike as I am traveling from place to place. It can also strike, and often does when I am reading and studying the work of others. I learn a lot from other writers, authors, and activists.
Are you a dog or a cat person?
I am definitely a dog person! Now, I grew up with cats, but after experiencing having a dog as a pet, I prefer dogs. Also, I don’t think my Missy (German Shepherd/Collie Mix) would appreciate me answering this question any other way.
I’m sure she would be annoyed if you did.
What do you think is the biggest problem facing the world today?
The biggest problem facing the world today is a lack of love. The love of the world has grown cold.
It has indeed. So much hatred around.
Thank you for coming and answering my questions, Yecheilyah. I would now like to mention your book on Black History. It is a wonderful book and it can be bought from Amazon. (Click on the link or the book cover below.)
Here’s a bit about it.
Black History Facts You Didn’t Learn in School is a historical guide on Black Americans’ accomplishments, contributions, and struggles. It includes the experiences of Black individuals who have often been marginalized, overlooked, or omitted from mainstream historical accounts.
From the resilience of women like Anna Douglass, first wife of Frederick Douglass, to the many Black communities that prospered, recognizing and celebrating Black history helps to ensure that these stories are acknowledged and that the achievements and resilience of Black people are valued and appreciated.
And a review.
Jeremy Lamkin
5.0 out of 5 stars
Awakening to the skeletons in America’s closet
Reviewed in the United States on 6 March 2024
This book is full of the kind of history that should be taught in school, but instead is relatively unknown. The author did an outstanding job putting this material together, which took ten years and tons of research. It’s a must-read for anyone who’s into history.
The author focuses on people and groups who have been pivotal in black history. She gives a voice to the marginalized and makes us aware of the contributions of the family of historical figures like Frederick Douglas and Martin Luther King Jr. Each chapter gets the dirt on whitewashed or forgotten pieces of history.
Read this book to learn about the aftermath of the Civil War and how slavery was reconstructed in the form of criminal justice. The book is compelling and hard to put down, as you discover a series of horrific truths about history.
This book contributed significantly to my view of American history, as it has put a lot of things in perspective. I see how slavery was reworked into other forms of slavery and evolved in complexity into the Bernaysian economic system based on Freud’s fear of human nature.
Reading this, a lot of lightbulbs went off for me. It dawned on me that nothing that ever happened is ever really over, like slavery and public relations. I can’t recommend this book enough!
Me again: I thoroughly recommend this book. So many important Black people have been ignored. This book highlights some of them and tells us how important they were.
I would love to hear your thoughts on this. Please add your thoughts in the comments box.
Rebecca Cunningham has challenged us to write a poem about a favourite place with alliteration.
It is to be free verse and no more than 50 words. So here’s my offering.

Woodland ways
Wend past flowers.
Winding paths walked
Without worry.
Wind whispers to willows
Waving branches.
White wood anemones
Water at the heart of the wood
With wavelets kissing the shore.
Woodpecker, willow warbler
Wing through trees.
Wonderful.
And here’s a link to Rebecca’s website so you can view the other poems.

King Harold engaged in two battles in Northumbria. He was defeated in the first, but triumphed in the second, which occurred five days later, resulting in the deaths of the opposing leaders, his brother Tostig and Harald Hardrada, the King of Norway.
Harold learned that Duke William of Normandy had embarked on an invasion of England to lay claim to the throne.
William’s landing occurred on September 28th near Pevensey, at a location now called Norman’s Bay. His initial plan was to invade in August, but due to unfavourable weather conditions, he postponed it until September.
On landing, William established his camp within the ancient Roman fortification at Pevensey, from where he marched towards Hastings, ten miles away. Once in Hastings, he built a wooden castle from pre-fabricated parts brought with him. (Was this the first flat-pack?) 🙂
Meanwhile, Harold became aware of William’s invasion fleet during his southward march. Although he had left part of his forces in the north, he gathered additional troops en route to London, where he paused to muster more soldiers. From London, he made his way towards the south coast.
Most believe that the encounter between Harold and William occurred not at Hastings, for which the battle is named, but at Senlac Hill, which is now the town of Battle. Nevertheless, I have come across recent claims suggesting an alternative location for the battlefield.
Archeological investigations at Battle Abbey, which is said to be built on the site of the battlefield, apparently show no indications of a battle taking place there. Medievalists.net cites a paper, “Heathfield Down: An Alternative Location for the Battlefield of Hastings, 1066,” by Rebecca Welshman and Simon Coleman. This paper suggests that the battle might have taken place at a place called Heathfield Down. (I also came across something that stated that this place is also known locally as Slaughter Common.)
Also, on Medievalists.net I read this:
“Welshman and Coleman also find importance in a passage from the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (D text), which explains that “com him togenes æt þære haran apuldran, and Wyllelm him com ongean on unwær, ær þis folc gefylced wære.” (“[Harold] came against him [William] at the grey apple tree. And William came upon him by surprise before his people were marshalled”). They believe that the English forces would have gathered at this apple tree because it was a significant landmark. There was such a ‘hoar apple tree’ in Heathfield that served as a boundary marker.”
If you go on to read the article, you will find an interesting map to show how the coastline has changed since 1066, and a section on how the weather would have impacted the battle if it took place on Senlac Hill.
In my current WIP, Wrath of an Anglo Saxon, I haven’t bothered too much about the situation of the battle, but more about the battle itself and the aftermath. This battle had a huge impact on life in England and is considered the beginning of the feudal system, whereby there is a strict hierarchy with the king at the top. and the peasants, or villeins as they are sometimes called, at the bottom. (This is where we get our word ‘villain’ from, although now it had become perjorative in its use.)
Here is an extract from the work g. Please bear in mind that this is certainly not the finished version, but only the first draft.
Durstan has been knocked unconscious during the battle. When he regains consciousness, he makes his way to where the defeated Anglo Saxon troops have gathered. After being treated for a head wound, he sleeps.
Durston opened his eyes, only to close them again quickly.
Who made the sun so bright?
Gradually, he tried a tiny sliver. Not too bad. He parted his eyelids a bit more until they were fully open.
He reached to his head and let his fingers probe his injury.
It hurt, but like a bruise. It didn’t feel as if anything inside was damaged. He struggled to his feet. A bit of dizziness, but the trees were standing still now. He glanced at the sky. Still quite early.
He ambled towards where he met Earl Edwin yesterday. There was a lot of activity. A few more men had arrived, and as he watched, two more straggled in. Some of the men were seriously injured, and Earl Edwin ordered them to be carried to the healers.
Durston approached the earl. “My Lord, I am much recovered. I would like to gather those of my followers who survive and join with any counter attack.”
Earl Edwin turned to him. “Ah! Theign Durston.” He turned to a tall dark-haired man standing next to him. “Theign Durston was injured in the battle. I sent him to the healers. A blow on the head, it seems.”
“Well met, Theign Durston. I am Earl Morcar.”
Two men rushed up to the two earls carrying a man between them. They set him on the ground and bowed to the earls.
One of them panted, hands on knees. “My Lords, we found the king’s body and brought it here.”
Earl Edwin glanced at the corpse on the ground before him. “This man is not dressed like the king. He is dressed as one of the ordinary fighters.”
“When we found him, sir, he was dressed as a king should be, with the crowned helmet.”
Earl Edwin glared at the two men. “Then where is it now? Have you stolen it? Is it hidden for you to collect later and sell to the Bastard?”
The second man looked stricken. “No, my Lord. We wouldn’t betray our country.” He turned to his companion. “Tell him, Cenric.”
“We was searching for any survivors, my Lord, when we saw the king. We knew him by his helmet, see. I’ve never seen the king, so that was how we knew it were him.” He coughed. “He were obviously dead, but we knew we should bring him back here.”
His friend nodded. “But there were a lot of the enemy looking for their survivors, so we thought,’What if they catch us wi’ the king?’ We spotted a body close by. Been shot with an arrow right through his eye, he had.” He shook his head. “Poor bastard. Must have been a painful way to go.”
Cenric continued. “We took his armour and clothes and swapped them with the king’s, so no one would know that the body we had was King Harold.”
Earl Edwin knelt next to the body. “He’s pretty cut up.” He peered into the face and looked up to Earl Morcar “It’s Harold, alright. I knew him quite well.” He turned to the two men. “Well done. You will be rewarded. Go and find some rest while we decide what to do with him.”
Durston staggered. His head still hurt and standing listening to the two men and the earls had made him dizzy.
Earl Edwin turned to him. “You need to go home, Durston. We’re planning a retaliation to take our country back, but I don’t think you are fit to join us.”
Durston’s heart sank. His stomach felt filled with lead. He wanted to fight; to help kill William the Bastard and to see young Edgar Aethling on the throne. His feet dragged as he made his way back to where the injured were being tended.
Plonking onto a log, he sank his head into his hands.
Someone spoke. “Are you unwell, my Lord?”
He glanced through his fingers. It was Hrodgar, one of his loyal followers. He lowered his hands. “I’ve just been told I can’t help in resisting this takeover.”
“With all due respect, Lord Durston, I think the earls are correct. You were unconscious for a long time, I heard, and are still suffering the effects.”
Durston shook his head and immediately regretted it. Pain shot through his brain. He sighed. “I suppose you are right. I would be a hindrance, not a help.”
Hrodgar went away and returned shortly with a flagon of ale. Durston drank gratefully and stood. The dizziness had gone. “How many of our men survived? Do you know?”
“Only about four or five, I think.”
Durston groaned. All those others dead. They had families, too.
“Lord Durston.” A voice sounded through his thoughts.
A young man approached. Durston has seen him with the earls.
“Earl Edwin wants to see you, my Lord.”
Durston followed the young man to where he had been talking to the earl.
“I have a job for you, Durston,” the earl said. “We must take the king’s body away from here. There’s no saying what those Norman’s would do with it if they found it.” He pulled at his beard. “Since you have been injured in the fighting, I would like you and a few of the less seriously injured, to take the king’s body to Waltham Abbey. It was a place close to his heart. The king can be buried there with the correct ceremonies.”
Durston felt his heart sink once more. He was being sent away. Away from the defence of his homeland.
It will be a while before this book is published, but I’ll keep you informed as to its progress.
If you enjoyed this brief extract and would like to read more of my work, you can click on the book cover in the side bar to take you to the online retailer of your choice.
I wonder how correct the new ideas about the battle site are? What do you think?
I don’t usually post two reviews in consecutive weeks, but this time I’m going to do so.

OVERVIEW
A well written mystery.
STORY
Charlie is surprised and shocked when her sister, Angie, rings her to ask for help. The two have been estranged for years after Angie married the love of Charlie’s life.
Angie says Tom is dead, and that she has lost all memory of the last few months. She can’t cope.
Against her better judgement, Charlie goes to help her sister, only to find chaos. There is no body and no money. What has happened to Tom?
Tom and his partner, Stuart, had been renovating a hotel, the Folly’s End of the title, so there should be money. But when a body is found in the cellar, everything turns upside down.
BLURB
Two estranged sisters, a dead husband, a mysterious hotel and a ghost?
Charlie’s sister Angela is not her favourite person after deliberately stealing the love of her life.
Years later, Angel’s husband dies mysteriously, leaving her with two children and no money. She begs her big sister to help her.
Can Charlie find it in her heart to forgive her sister, or will old feelings destroy any chance of a reunion?
Can they work together to solve their problems, or would that be asking for the impossible?
CHARACTERS
Jaye Marie has created a cast of wonderfully complex characters from the sensible Charlie to the unpredictable Angie.
We see Charlie’s growing confusion as the mystery of Tom’s disappearance escalates, and at her growing feelings for Stuart, Tom’s partner.
We watch Angie as her moods swing from anger, to sarcasm to happiness seemingly at random.
Angie has two young daughters who are confused and frightened by a situation they can’t understand.And Stuart, as well as Angie, is hiding secrets.
WRITING
I cannot fault the writing. Jaye Marie writes clearly and well. I found no typos, spelling or grammatical errors.The scenes are set well and I could easily visualise the hotel, although I would have liked a little more description of Bognor Regis and Angie’s home.
If there was a downside to this story it was that I guessed what was really going on fairly early. Also, we didn’t learn what exactly happened to Tom, Stuart, and Angie before the mystery, nor why.
I gave it 4*
In order to get a particular number of stars, it is not necessary to meet all the criteria. This is a guide only.
5* Exceptional. Wonderful story. Setting well drawn, and characters believable–not perfect, but with flaws. Will keep you up all night. No typos or grammatical errors.
4* A thoroughly enjoyable read. Great and original story. Believable setting and characters. Very few grammatical errors or typos.
3* I enjoyed it. Good story. Characters need some development. Some typos or grammatical errors.
2* Not for me. Story not very strong. Unbelievable and flat characters. Setting not clearly defined. Many typos or grammatical errors.
1* I hated it. Story almost non-existent. Setting poor. Possibly couldn’t finish it.
I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR FROM YOU. HAVE YU READ ANY OTHER OF JAYE MARIE’S BOOKS?
If you want to purchase any of my books, simply click on the cover in the sidebar and it will take you to where you can purchase from your favourite online store.