Virtual Book Tour: The Last Straw

Please welcome author Nia Simone and her debut release, The Last Straw. Nia will be giving away a $25 Amazon GC to one lucky commenter drawn at random during her tour. The more often you comment, the better your chances of winning. To find the rest of her tour stops, go here

NOTE:  THIS IS NIA'S DEBUT WORK.  ALSO, THE BOOK IS AVAILABLE FOR FREE ON AMAZON THE WEEK OF THE TOUR ONLY.

THE LAST STRAW

By

Nia Simone

BLURB:  

Ally Tobin left New York after one too many bad dates, determined to rebuild a stable life and career as a private investigator in Silicon Valley. But when the man she knew as one name walks into her office with another, will her curiosity once again lead her to risk her heart?

The last thing Special Agent Jared Green needs is "security risk" stamped on the resume of his latest undercover identity. Especially by the woman his job forced him to leave in New York without any explanation. She may threaten his cover, but it's his heart on the line. 

He's good at playing a part. She's good at catching a fake. Can they trust enough to give love another chance?

EXCERPT:  

He sauntered through the door, a white, button- down shirt tucked into belted khakis. When his dark gaze found her, he stopped. Stared. Her throat dried and a rustling motion stirred in her abdomen.

“Hi. I’m Darren Ray.”

Keep your cool, she commanded herself, standing and reaching across the desk. His hand was rough.

She yanked her hand back and waved at the chair. “Please, have a seat.” He waited for her to sit before settling in the visitor’s chair. “So, Darren, according to this, you’re being considered for a programmer position in the IT department. Tell me about your background.”

A professional mask settled over his features. “As you can see on my résumé, I have several years of consulting experience.”

“Tell me something about your experience as a mechanic.” Working on his prized old Mustang had been a favorite hobby.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “What do you mean? That’s not in my résumé.”

“You don’t have the hands of a programmer. More of a mechanic.” Oh, his hands.

“Okay, you got me.” He was going to confess. This should be good. “When I’m not programming computers I’m working on my car.”

“And what were you doing in New York City?”

He reached across her desk for a piece of paper, plucked a pen from its stand and scrawled something.  When she took the note their fingers brushed. Meet me for dinner at Pico’s at 7. I’ll explain everything. Can’t talk here.

AUTHOR INFORMATION:

Nia Simone grew up on the side of a ski slope in Squaw Valley, USA. Later, while learning the craft of story writing, she worked in nonprofit and then high-tech.

The best part of working in the computer field was meeting her husband. He took up skiing and she helped him document his computer inventions! They live in "Silicon Valley" in California where their favorite thing to do is cook together for friends. Nia’s specialties are dessert and veggies while her husband’s are entrees and sourdough bread.

Their only pet at the moment is the sourdough starter, which lives in the fridge and requires bi-weekly feeding.

​

Nia blogs every day about travel, food, writing, books, skiing and photography at niasimoneauthor.com (where she won the Versatile Blogger Award and Inspiring Blogger Award).​

Buy link: The Last Straw (http://amzn.to/164srhC)

Website: niasimone.intuitwebsites.com

Facebook: facebook.com/niasimoneauthor

Twitter: @niasimone4

 .

Name Before the Masses Tour: Mythical Ireland

Please welcome author Christy Nicholas, who is here today to both answer my infamous Rick Reed questions and to talk about her newest release,  Ireland: Mythical, Magical, Mystical.  Christy will be awarding a $20 Amazon GC to one random commenter on the tour. The more you comment, the better your chances of winning. If you want to know where her other tour dates are, go here.

The Questions

1)    You’re marooned on a small island with one person and one item of your choice—who is that person and what item do you have?

Doctor Who and the TARDIS – endless possibilities!  Given my druthers, I’d choose either the 4^th Doctor (Tom Baker), or the 11^th Doctor (David Tennant).

  2)    Which musical would you say best exemplifies your life – and which character in that musical are you?

Oddly enough, I’d have to say Tevya from Fiddler on the Roof.  He has worked hard all his life, and wishes

he was rich – but realizes he has happiness in his community and family. 

3)      Take these three words and give me a 100 word or less scenario using them:  insurance, owed, talk

She knew she owed him a stern talk, but she avoided it like the plague.  She couldn’t get past the fact that she had discovered the insurance policy he had bought – was there something sinister behind it?  Or was he just being cautious?  She just couldn’t read him.

4)      What is your idea of how to spend romantic time with your significant other?

Usually a night out for sushi, and cuddling on the couch with a good movie.  Of course, a good movie is likely something fantasy or science fiction, as we are both incurable geeks!

5)      When you start a new story, do you begin with a character, or a plot?

Since I write non-fiction travel, I start with the myth and history of a place.  My research always reveals interesting things I didn’t know, and it fuels my inspiration for the rest of the book.

6)      If they were to make the story of your life into a movie, who should play you?

I would love Betty White – a sweet, innocent exterior with a wicked, dirty-mind center!

   7)    Who’s your favorite horror villain and why?

I think Hannibal Lechter is my favorite – he is a genius who orchestrates everything in his life like a

symphony.  He’s in control even when he’s being controlled in a prison.  Perhaps it appeals to the control freak in me!

8)      Do you have an historical crush and if so, who is it?

Definitely – Brian Boruma, the last true High King of Ireland, 1000 years ago.  What a man!  He evicted the Vikings from Ireland, brought the whole island under one rule, and died in battle – at age 84, according to most accounts!  How could this man be anything less than vital, compelling, and full of charisma?  I am looking forward to the movie they are producing on him, for 2014 – 1000 years after the Battle of Clontarf, which took his life.

9)      Is there a story that you’d like to tell but you think the world isn’t ready to receive it?

I am starting to write the story of my parents’ love and eventual marriage, 30 years after I was born – we shall see if people want it or not!

www.greendragonartist.com

www.facebook.com/greendragonartist

www.facebook.com/greendragontravel

Twitter:  greendragon9

http://www.tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Nicholas_Christy/ireland-guide.htm

IRELAND: MYTHICAL, MAGICAL, MYSTICAL

By

Christy Nicholas

BLURB:  

Do you find yourself drawn to the magic of the Emerald Isle? Would you like to see places beyond the typical tourist traps? Come, join me on a journey through the mists of legend, into the hidden places of mystery. Immerse yourself in the legends and myths, the history that has made this island precious in the hearts and minds of millions. Along with the tales and history, there is practical information on planning your trip, budgeting your costs, and finding the best places to while away the magical hours of your holiday.

EXCERPT:  

The Magical Facet The Fair Folk

Everyone has heard of fairies, of creatures with supernatural powers to curse, to bless, to find gold, or to cause mischief. Literature and art is full of them from Shakespeare to contemporary artists Amy Brown or Jasmine Beckett-Griffith. Western culture, especially in the US, is bred on Disney’s Tinker Bell, children’s books of flower fairies from Victorian artists, and grim tales of the darker side of these Fae folk.

In Ireland, fairies, known as the Sídhe (pronounced shee) or the Good Folk, originate from the Tuatha Dé Danann, the people who immigrated to the island before the Sons of Míl. Supposedly full of powers, the Tuatha Dé Danann could not bear to be near iron, and therefore their superior skills were for naught. Rather than leave the land they loved, they agreed to reside below the earth. For this reason, caves are said to be entrances into their underworld homes. Traces of this legend can be seen in the classic film, Darby O’Gill and the Little People, where Darby is led under a mountain to the Fairy King’s palace. 

Ireland has countless portals, be they hills, hawthorn trees, caves, wells, or other sacred places.

A more Christianized origin of these creatures claim they are angels which fell to Earth before humans resided there. They live beneath the waves or gardens, and while some are evil, others can be helpful as long as they are treated with respect.

While many modern legends show the fairies to be sweet, kind, magical creatures, this is really a Victorian creation. The traditional views in Ireland and Scotland show the Sídhe to be mischievous to the point of cruelty a force to be reckoned with. They are not sought out by the wise. In fact, most of the herb and spell lore of an almost forgotten era is meant to instruct how to keep you from coming to the Folks’ attention.

AUTHOR INFORMATION:

My name is Christy Nicholas, also known as Green Dragon. I do many things, including digital art, beaded jewelry, writing, and photography. In real life I'm a CPA, but having grown up with art around me (my mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother are/were all artists), it sort of infected me, as it were.  I love to draw and to create things. It's more of an obsession than a hobby. I like looking up into the sky and seeing a beautiful sunset, or a fragrant blossom, a dramatic seaside. I then wish to take a picture or create a piece of jewelry to share this serenity, this joy, this beauty with others.  Sometimes this sharing requires explanation – and thus I write.  Combine this love of beauty with a bit of financial sense and you get an art business. I do local art and craft shows, as well as sending my art to various science fiction conventions throughout the country and abroad.

Find Christy here:
www.GreenDragonArtist.com

www.facebook.com/greendragon9

www.facebook.com/greendragonartist

www.facebook.com/greendragontravel

www.facebook.com/music-from-ireland-for-your-pleasure

www.facebook.com/musicfromscotland

www.twitter.com/greendragon9

Find Christy’s book here, and at other eBook stores:

http://www.tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Nicholas_Christy/ireland-guide.htm

Sexy Snippets #13: No Way Out

Good morning and Happy Sunday!

 Yesterday, I teased y'all with a little bit of my current WIP, my first BDSM story, No Way Out. Today, I'm going to show you a little more.

 Shylor is a young man who lives with Randy, who's forty and very domineering. Not just dom/sub, but worse. Meeting Wyatt could either be the best thing that ever happened to Shy - or the worst. In this peek, Randy isn't home, and Wyatt's crossed the street with a sweet offering in the form of two ice cream cones.

 He forced himself to calm down, digging his nails into the palms to distract himself, so hard that small red crescents formed. He had to do this. He had to discourage Wyatt from ever coming over here, even if it turned out to be the hardest thing he’d ever done. And he’d done a lot of hard things in his short life.

 But it was a matter of self-preservation. Even more, he didn’t want Wyatt to be hurt, and there was no doubt in Shy’s mind that Randy would hurt him.

 He slowly opened the door, catching Wyatt in mid-knock, startling the other man.

 “You can’t be here,” he whispered in as fierce a voice as he could muster. “He can’t see you.”



For more Sexy Snippets, go here!

Edit: For those who want to know more of the story, I've added No Way Out to my lables on the right side of my blog, and if you go there, it'll show you all of them, unfortunately not in chronological order, but they are numbered. Here's the link http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.com/search/label/No%20Way%20Out

Enjoy!

My Sexy Saturday #10: No Way Out

Happy Saturday and welcome to another My Sexy Saturday! Today's snippet comes from my flash story, No Way Out.


Have you ever witnessed a situation where you thought you would intervene, if  you only dared? But maybe you kept silent, because you weren't sure it would be the right thing to do. Or any of your business. That's the position Wyatt Findley finds himself in. The young art student is house sitting in a fairly affluent neighborhood on a private street in St. Louis when he spies the young man across the street. He's washing an expensive automobile under the watchful aegis of an older man. After several hours pass, and Wyatt notices he is still at the task, something makes him decide to speak up... and so it begins.

If you like this snippet, the chapters are here on the blog. Enjoy!

Suddenly there was a hand touching Shy’s shoulder, and then that same hand appeared in front of his face, as if it was being offered to him, and he couldn’t help but see it as a lifeline. He started to reach for it, but thought better of his action at the last moment and knocked an imaginary bit of dirt from the car’s pristine panel.

“And you are?” Wyatt prompted.

Shy felt his face being tilted upward and his heart pounded madly in his chest. Oh there would be hell to pay for this, no question. “Sh-Shylor,” he managed to stammer out. He could feel Randy’s annoyance behind him, but he couldn’t make himself look away.

“Is there something we can help you with?” Randy broke into the moment and Wyatt released Shy’s chin. He was quivering, which made the butt plug quiver too, and fresh waves broke through him. He fought against them, stifling a moan. Not the time or place. And if he dared to come, without permission...

“I was going to ask you the same thing. I noticed Shylor’s been working on the car for a long time, thought he might like a hand.”

“Shylor has everything under control. He’s simply very thorough, that’s all. Mr... Finley, did you say?”

“No, Findley. With a d. Shylor, what do you say? I don’t mind using a little elbow grease. Between us, I’m sure we can knock this out in no time?”

And now go see what the other authors are doing on this sexy Saturday - you can find them here.

Wednesday Briefs: No Way Out #21

Here it is, another Hump Day, and time for more flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers! Hope you're having a good day, I know I am!

As you'll recall from last week's episode of No Way Out, Shy and Randy are at the BDSM club, Sweet Majesty, and Shy has had a narrow escape when Randy's attention turns to an acquaintance. The action continues in this week's installment. Just to remind you, I'll be pulling No Way Out soon and finishing it so I can sub it. The last public chapter will be October 16th, which is when I'll be at GRL, in Atlanta. I'll remind everyone and those who want to follow it privately can let me know. Don't forget to see what the rest of the Briefers are up to. Their links follow my tale. Enjoy!

No Way Out #21

“Hello yourself, Randy. Didn’t expect to find you here tonight.”

“I could say the same for you, Ken.” Randy’s voice was clearly laced with pride. Shy knew without being told that this was the man he’d beaten to win his new account, the reason for today’s celebration. Shy kept his eyes cast down. It wouldn’t do to seem to be listening, even though he was standing right there. “Glad to see you can bounce back from disappointment so well.”

“Disappointment?” The confusion in Ken’s voice was apparent. Shy instinctively knew that Randy was about to tell the other man the sad bad news, and was taking great delight in doing so.

“At losing such a prestigious account. But cheer up, there’ll be others. Maybe I’ll be nice and let you have the next one.”

Shy darted a quick glance up, then back to his feet. He’d seen enough. Ken’s face was purpling. Shy watched the feet of both men as Ken took a step toward Randy, who never moved.

“Let me?” The querulous voice was rising in pitch and volume, drawing the attention of others. Shy almost shifted his weight, uncomfortably, but thought better of it. “Just who do you think you are, Grant? God’s gift to marketing?”

“Well, if the shoe fits,” Randy modestly replied.

Shy braced himself for a punch that never came, knowing that if this Ken managed to knock Randy from his feet, Shy would go down too, connected as they were. A silky voice, instead, inserted itself, and a quick peek ascertained that it belonged to Mel. He held one gloved hand to his lips, as if shushing two rowdy children.

“Gentlemen, there will be no fighting. No exception. Mr. Demaris’ rules will be followed at all times, is that understood?”

“Of course, of course.” Randy’s voice never faltered, never lost its air of equanimity. His words were echoed a moment later by a more disgruntled Ken.

“Perfectly understood.”

A snap of the fingers, and another server appeared on command, bearing liquid refreshment. Shy heard the glasses clink as they were taken in hand.

“Ken, I do apologize for my thoughtless words. Tonight is not a night for quarreling, but for celebration. Is there some way in which we can bury the hatchet between us?”

Did no one else hear the insincerity that laced Randy’s words? Probably not. No one knew him as well as Shy did. Although Shy wasn’t sure how well he knew Randy Grant himself.

“They say that to the victor belongs the spoils, don’t they? Maybe in this case, the victor should share the spoils?”

Shy pondered this question, waiting for Randy’s next scathing remark. It didn’t come.

“What did you have in mind, my dear Ken?”

Startled, Shy glanced up again. Mel and the server had gone, leaving them to face one another down, having given them their only warnings. Shy had seen other men removed for such offenses; violence was not tolerated at Sweet Majesty. At least not that kind. Only the sort inflicted by designated instruments of... delight.

“You have quite the asset there, Randy, old boy...”

Shy felt Randy’s flinch through the leash. He hated to have anyone refer to his age; he was very sensitive about it, despite the fact that there were men here that were easily forty years his senior.

Suddenly he understood Ken’s allusion, and his cheeks flamed as he quickly stared at his feet, desperately controlled his breathing, his long-time training standing him in good stead.

What was Ken asking for? And would Randy allow it, whatever it was? Not that Shy had any choice in the matter. He’d do what he was told to do, no more, no less.

“I do.” Shy couldn’t decipher Randy’s tone, couldn’t tell his mood from those two words alone.

“Maybe you could... share your good fortune with those of us who are... less fortunate?”

Surely he wasn’t suggesting... Shy knew without looking that Randy would never go for that. He had a cardinal rule, and it was never to be broken. No one, but no one, other than himself, was to touch Shylor’s ass. Shy had long ago rid himself of the idea that the compulsion was romantic; it was actually very selfish and very self-serving on Randy’s part.

Randy would not go where someone else had been. And Randy was scared to death of AIDS.

But if Randy blatantly rejected Ken’s suggestion, would the already volatile Ken fly off the handle and get them all bounced out of the club? Perhaps for good?

And would that be such a bad thing?

“Pick a room,” Randy said silkily. The next thing Shy knew, Randy jerked the leash, so he knew that meant he should walk behind him, eyes on the ground; he prayed that they were not going into one of the private rooms. He feared that if they did, then all would be lost, all bets would be off, and things would get decidedly ugly. Uglier than usual.

Randy flicked the leash again and Shy stopped, taking in his surroundings. To his great relief, it was one of the public rooms, already populated by about six to eight men, and four subs. They glanced up as Randy cleared his throat for attention.

“Gentlemen,” he began. “Good evening.”

Greetings were returned, acknowledgements made. A few seemed interested, some curious, but no one ignored the man who oozed charm and schmooze with every breath. Shy noticed Ken, at Randy’s side, seemed equally as captivated as the others.

“I would like,” Randy continued, “to share my good fortune with you this evening. Today I made a very profitable business deal with a very special client.”

Shy glanced at Ken, who never spoke.

“Therefore, I am giving you all a gift.” Curious glances, more interest now.

Randy indicated Shy with a wave of one well-manicured hand. “Each and every one of you in this room shall receive a blow job from those pretty lips.”

Oh fuck...

to be continued

Now be sure to visit the other Briefers and see what they're up to!

Lily Sawyer 

MA Church  

Rob Colton

 Victoria Adams

Shelly Schulz

 Andrew Gordon

Elyzabeth VaLey   

A.R. Von

Tali Spencer

Cia Nordwell

 

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie

My Sexy Saturday #9: Trapped in Time

I've been missing for a little bit, but here I am, and I'd like to present a snippet of my latest release, Trapped in Time. It's a quirky romantic comedy that involves time travel and dinosaurs and a lot of fun. I hope you enjoy it! And don't forget to visit the rest of the gang here!

My Sexy Saturday #9: Trapped in Time

The trouble with Myron is that he has this idea he’s in love with Vittorio and that he’s going to marry him. Over my dead body! Or, rather, over his.

Plus, he also thinks he’s a wizard. Touched in the head is what I think he is.

“What do you want, Moron?” I interject myself between my love and my enemy. I’d love to run Myron down with my bike, but I don’t. At least not now.

He doesn’t answer but pulls out his wand and mutters something, while I tap my foot and wait.

Nothing. No response. Is he playing deaf and dumb today or what?

Until suddenly, there is something. The entire theatre shakes, and this big colorful ball of light envelops the three of us... and then poof!

Once I get over feeling dizzy and I open my eyes again, I find myself staring up into the eyes of a Tyrannosaurus Rex!

Now available at eXtasy Books!

Wednesday Briefs: No Way Out #20

Hard to believe it's Hump Day already! See what a long weekend will do for you lol

This week's prompts are: Use ugliness in some way or "bad to the bone" or "you never bring me flowers" or feature a best man in some way or have a character say "fiddle-dee-dee!" or use a blue moon in your tale or use a flogger, paddle or whip or "You want me to what?" or "She's got a triple D chest and the IQ of wallpaper paste."

In last week's No Way Out, we saw Shy and Randy go to the bdsm club, Sweet Majesty, and that's where we continue today, with a glimpse of the club. Don't forget to check out the other Briefers, whose links follow my tale, and be aware, we have another FLASH VIRGIN!  Enjoy!

No Way Out #20

Shy was not the only male sporting a collar and leash. Nor was he the only one naked. However, that didn’t exactly ameliorate the situation for him. Not that he’d ever say anything. He wouldn’t dream of it.

He’d seen enough of Sweet Majesty to have some understanding of its clientele. There were regulars, some of whom were in committed relationships, while others came to meet up with like-minded individuals and scratch an itch.

Shy was there as Randy’s personal property, and he knew it. At one time, he’d been proud of what he was. He knew better now, and was simply resigned to the way things were.

Some of the rooms had no doors; they’d been removed for voyeuristic purposes. Anything and everything was possible. The club’s motto could have easily been anything goes.

Tables were interspersed throughout the house, including the hallways. There were at least two stages, for those inclined to perform. Although that didn’t stop impromptu shows from being held in other areas. Shy had noticed peepholes in some of the rooms, perhaps for those who were shyer about watching. Most simply stared at anything they wished to see.

Other Doms walked their subs on chain or leather leashes, and some of these latter also wore cockrings, like Shy.  Shy was not allowed to speak to any of them; he only spoke to Randy with permission. Randy, of course, was free to converse as he wished, and he did, for many of these men were his business acquaintances. It was not unusual for Randy to finagle contracts here, using Shy’s mouth to seal the deal. Shy couldn’t remember the number of blow jobs he’d given at Randy’s direction and he didn’t really want to know.

As they passed, Shy noticed an active threesome upon a stage. A sub was sandwiched between two Doms, being fucked from either end. At a nearby table, another Dom enjoyed his meal while his sub ate his food from a plate set on the floor. This was common practice here. Randy never permitted Shy to sit at his level.

In another room, one slave faced the wall, spread-eagled, his hands held in manacles screwed into the wall while his master worked him over with a whip; the other was bent over a table, his ass high in the air, the flesh striped in criss-cross welts from the flogger in his master’s hand.

Shy never knew what to expect when they came here. Sometimes Randy would simply watch the activity of the others. Other times, he wanted to show off his prowess as a cocksman, and would fuck Shy hard. Shy’s youth was a coup for Randy, one he wore proudly. Shy didn’t exist as a person; no one knew his name. Here he was simply Randy’s possession.

Perhaps tonight would be a look but don’t touch night. Randy had made no effort to remove his clothes. Shy couldn’t help but notice that he was still hard. Sometimes he wished Randy would simply fuck someone else, but that never happened. It no longer mattered to Shy if people watched them fuck; he was used to it. It had long ago ceased to be anything but a perfunctory act, at least on his part.

There were at least three house slaves who circulated about the club, under the direction of Mel, with drink-laden trays. If a patron didn’t like what was being offered, he simply had to ask for something else. One passed by them now, dressed only in a thong and a red collar that read Sweet Majesty.  “Good evening, Master Grant, good to see you,” the young man greeted Randy.

Shy had stopped when Randy did, at a sharp tug on the leash, and partially turned toward him. He observed Randy take a glass of what might have been champagne, his gaze flicking over the well-hung server. “I can tell you think so,” he riposted, eliciting a practiced smile from the other before he passed along his way. Shy quickly glanced at the floor, his expression revealing nothing.

Randy pulled on the leash and Shy knew he was to move again, without being told. Up a set of stairs now, to the second floor. Some of these doors were closed, but not soundproof, and snippets of sensuality could be heard as they passed by. Moans and cries of pleasure. “Harder!” “Yes, Sir!” and “Fuck me, please!”

Men passed them going the other way. Some exchanged greetings with Randy. Each time Randy tugged on the leash and Shy halted and waited his next command, like a horse on a bridle. “This your sub?” one man asked, and Randy quickly replied, “Yes.”

“Nice job.” Envy laced the voice. “May I?”

“Be my guest,” Randy assented smoothly.

Strange hands cupped Shy’s balls and stroked his cock. Not for the first time, probably not the last. But no one was foolish enough to venture to touch Shy’s ass. The one time someone had come close, Randy had roughly knocked his hand away and yelled, “Mine!” in no uncertain times.

That had also been the last time.

Shy stood without moving or reacting; he was used to this. Nothing fazed him, he felt nothing. This too would pass.

What if he touched you... what if those were Wyatt’s hands touching your balls? Your cock? What then?

Where had that come from? Shy startled, accidentally shifting his weight.

Dear God, please don’t let Randy...

“What?”Randy’s voice held an edge. The fondler had already moved away. Shy stood in frozen horror, wondering what response to make. He wasn’t even sure what the question was.

“Shylor!” Randy barked.

Shy knew what that meant. He raised unwilling eyes to Randy’s face. “What the fuck—” Randy began.

Shy swallowed hard and took a deep breath. But before he could release a single word, another voice intruded, calling Randy’s name, and Randy turned away in obvious annoyance. But only at first.

“Well hello, Ken.”

Shy breathed again.

to be continued

Now, go visit the other Briefers!

A.R. Von

 Victoria Adams

Tali Spencer   

 Nephylim  

Rob Colton    ***FLASH VIRGIN****

Elyzabeth VaLey   

MA Church  

Cia Nordwell

 Andrew Gordon

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie