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Showing posts from October, 2015

Blog Tour Stop - The Twleve Dates of Christmas by Lisa Dickenson

Today I am SUPER EXCITED to share with you my Christmas Q&A with Lisa Dickenson, author extraordinaire.

So here we go!

What drink says Christmas for you?

Lisa:  Baileeeyyyyyyys – it’s the best best best and I would like some now, please. Trish:  I'm a Baileys girl! But traditionally, it's always been eggnog (non - alcoholic). Q: What's your most treasures Christmas gift you ever received? Lisa:  That’s a hard one… Does the engagement ring I got a week before Christmas in 2010 count? Yes, yes it does! Trish:  The flowered blanket my Mum crocheted and gave me the last Xmas before she passed. It's gorgeous and I love it! Q: What's your fave festive song? Lisa:  So many!  I love Last Christmas by Wham for it’s wonderful cheese-factor. Trish: O Holy Night sung by Reba McEntire. Just beautiful and gives me goosebumps. Q: What’s your fave movie to watch on Christmas Eve? Lisa: It's A Wonderful Life - just a perfect film to curl up with the night before Christmas... Trish: A…

Blog Tour Stop - Pretending to Dance by Diane Chamberlain

Today on the blog, I've got a great piece written by the one and only Diane Chamberlain to correspond with the release of her new novel Pretending to Dance. Pretend Therapy: Fake it till You Make It by Diane Chamberlain
 Throughout much of my early life, I was phobic about all things medical. I refused to visit friends and family members in the hospital. I avoided movies where blood or gore might be on the screen. And as I attended graduate school for my masters degree in social work, I avoided classes where there might be a preponderance of medical social work students. I didn’t want to hear about their cases. I’d grown up with phobias aplenty and gotten rid of most of them, but as I approached the age of thirty, the fear of hospitals and all things medical persisted. 

 Then everything changed. 

 I was thirty years old and working in a youth counseling agency when my best friend was murdered in her home. In my devastation, I had one recurring, almost obsessive image. I pictur…