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Guest Post: Holly Day

Hello, everyone! Thank you, lovely Ally, for allowing me to visit again 😘 I’m mostly here to boast today. Each and every one of us should blow our own trumpet more often. You’re doing amazing things, and you deserve some praise, even if it’s you doing the praising.

I recently signed a contract for my 24th story in 24 months. I haven’t written them all in 24 months, but my first story published as Holly Day was released in January 2021, and since then, I’ve had one release every month. The contract I recently signed means 2022 is done! 🥳

It’s become a challenge to have a story out every month, and some, like this month’s story, are short. I would never be able to do it if all stories were longer stories.

On September 17th Dear Diary will be released, and it’s 35 pages. And some of those 35 pages are airy 😁

If you’ve read any of my stories before, you might know that I write in third person and most often double POV. Not this time. This month we’re celebrating Dear Diary Day, so I’ve written a diary.

The reason I write in third person and (most often) double POV is that I feel trapped in first person. I feel that I’m only telling half a story when I’m only using one person’s POV and that I can’t tell the truth (silly, since I write fiction and none of it is true) if I’m not giving both sides. One person’s truth is another person’s lie.

So when I decided to do a diary, I had doubts. Major doubts. Not only would I be trapped in first person, but I would also be trapped in first person retelling the first-person’s lies LOL.

While writing it, I had some moments of frustration. I felt restricted, confined, and reduced. But do you know what? I’m quite in love with this story.

It’s not like my others, not at all. But I think I needed a break from that, and writing this, having to figure out a way to tell a story without my usual means, was an inspiring challenge.

I’m back to writing third person double POV now. I’m not converted! But I’m glad I wrote this one 😊

Below you can read an excerpt, and I should probably warn you… There are more than a few bad words. The guy writing the story is suffering from depression and his therapist, Janet, has asked him to write a diary every day where he lists at least three positive things. And the dickhead is his boss.

Dear Diary

Dear Diary,

My therapist wants me to write a diary to help me manage my depression. I have no idea how it’ll work, but I didn’t have the energy to argue with her.

All I want is for life to go back to the way it was before I walked in on Christopher and Jason. Or maybe not because I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive Christopher for cheating on me in our bed, but I want to function as I did before that moment. Before I lost everything.

Do you remember Lars Olsen from school? I do my best to stay away, but it’s like he’s magnetic and pulls me in every time I see him. I shouldn’t be dating. I don’t want to force my crazy on anyone, but he’s asked me to dinner. He deserves a sane partner, so it would be unfair to go, wouldn’t it?

Buy Dear Diary:

JMS Book :: Amazon :: books2read.com/DearDiaryDay

Excerpt

Tuesday, September 13th

Dear Diary,
I think Lars works at the gym across from work. Either he was working or he was feeling some woman up while showing her how the torture device closest to the window works.
He was wearing black today, which is the smarter choice. You never know when some idiot will pour their coffee all over you, at least black disguises some of it. Sigh.
I think he saw me. He waved, but I pretended I couldn’t see due to the sun reflecting on the window.
It was raining.
Of course, it was raining. There I was, looking like a drowned cat, and he was smiling. Had I been sane, I would have waved back, but I’m not sane, and Lars deserves someone more… More is a good word. He deserves someone who is more.
I was late to see the cunt, seven minutes, but she acted as if I wasn’t. I wish I was a smoker, then I would have stood in the rain and smoked instead of walking in. I hate her office. It smells of citrus.
She insists I call her Janet.
She wanted to know how I found writing a diary, and I told her I was the next Anne Frank. Then I apologized because my God! How can I say things like that? So stupid! Anne Frank was hiding from the fucking Nazis. All I did was being spotted while hiding in the bathroom at work. Okay, they found me crying in the bathroom.
I can’t remember why I was crying, but it was nothing in comparison to the Nazis. No one will find this diary, print it, and be horrified about the way I’m treated. I bet Janet would’ve stopped reading by now.
They still whisper when I walk into the staff room, the bitches at work, not the Nazis. I’m sure it’s me they’re whispering about. Erin has always been a gossip, but Janet said I shouldn’t assume. Easy for her to say.
I asked the dickhead how long I had to keep seeing Janet. He wants me to go until I am well again. Well? Is anybody well? Was I well before I knocked my coffee cup over and soaked the notes I was processing and had a breakdown in the restroom? No.
This fucking world…

1. My breakfast coffee was okay.
2. My walking-to-Janet’s-office Caramel Latte was nice.
3. Lars waving through the window.

About Holly Day

According to Holly Day, no day should go by uncelebrated and all of them deserve a story. If she’ll have the time to write them remains to be seen. She lives in rural Sweden with a husband, four children, more pets than most, and wouldn’t last a day without coffee.

Holly gets up at the crack of dawn most days of the week to write gay romance stories. She believes in equality in fiction and in real life. Diversity matters. Representation matters. Visibility matters. We can change the world one story at the time.

Connect with Holly on social media:

Website :: Facebook :: Twitter :: Pinterest :: BookBub :: Goodreads :: Newsletter

#RAtR: What were your characters like as teenagers?

This month’s topic for Read Around the Rainbow is another brainchild of Addison Albright! As some of you already know, #RAtR is a blogging project I am doing with a few friends who also write LGBTQIA romance. You can find everyone by clicking here or on the image to the right, and I will link to everyone’s post on this month’s topic at the bottom of this page.

This month, we have chosen to pick a character and write about what they were like as teenagers. I’ve chosen to write about Kevin from As the Crows Fly.

Kevin is a veterinarian–I keep having to remember to write the word out in full as in the UK we usually shorten it to vet and I think in the US that’s more commonly used for a military veteran!–and he’s also an artist. He lives on the edge of the sea in Wales and he has befriended a murder of crows, one of which lives in the house with him.

That’s pretty eccentric, right?

When I was writing the story I didn’t work up a back-story for him, he more or less sprang fully formed from my pen/keyboard/fingers. I very rarely do a lot more than an an initial sketch for my characters anyway; any back-story usually develops as I go along. For longer length stories I usually have quite a good feel for where they’ve come from by the time I’ve finished writing. It’s not so usual for me to have that relationship with the characters in my shorter stories and it’s only now I’ve sat down and thought about it hard that I’ve worked out what Kevin might have been like in his last few years at school.

I think Kevin probably wasn’t out at school. But he wasn’t closeted either if that makes sense. He was one of the nerdy kids who concentrated on his results and getting into uni so he could follow the career path he was set on. He was very conscious that if he tanked his grades it would be much more complicated for him to get where he wanted to go.

He was also working really hard at the weekends and in the school holidays, helping at the local veterinarian so he built up relevant experience. And when he wasn’t working he spent time drawing. It was a kind of chill-out thing for him and it began when he started sketching the animals at work.

He had friends; but he didn’t have much time to hang out with them because he had so much else going on. He’s always been a bit of a loner. Not a lonely person, but just as happy with his own company and those of his animals as with people he likes.

Apologies that this is a really short post from me this month…I only got back from holiday on Monday and so far, today being Thursday, I have had two zoom meetings, one in person meeting and…erm…about eight sizeable phone-calls from various professionals about one or other of the children. I’m finding it very hard to get in back in to a post-holiday routine, let alone a blogging routine, but I’m hoping next week will be a bit less mad!

As always, to catch up with the character sketches of my Read Around the Rainbow colleagues check out their blogs here: K. L. Noone, Addison Albright, Nell Iris, Ofelia Grand, Holly Day, Fiona Glass, Ellie Thomas, Lillian Francis, Amy Spector.

Read Around the Rainbow. Writers and bloggers of LGBTQIA+ Romance.

World Naked Gardening Day: The Death of Digby Catch by Amy Spector

Hello! And thank you, Ally for letting me stop by to tell everyone a little about myself, and to share a little about my new release for our World Naked Gardening Day project!

When I was asked if I wanted to take part in the collaboration, my first thought—after naked what?!!—was how I could write a story that—at its core—was about gardening, and somehow make it my own.

I don’t garden. I’ve tried, but other than succeeding in growing a very sad tomato plant that produced rather odd tasting tomatoes—how it is possible to make a tomato taste bad?—I’m a gardening failure. I even managed to kill every single thing I planted with the seeds that Ofelia Gränd—aka Holly Day—sent to me, along with detailed instructions on what to do! (Shhh…Don’t tell her!)

But I love flower and vegetable gardens and greenhouses, and I’ve taken my children to the nursery since they were in diapers—my boys are now ten, thirteen and seventeen—to enjoy the colorful plants and in hopes that one day they would succeed where I had failed.

In the end, I’m quite pleased with my story. Though, I suspect it’s not quite what anyone had in mind when I was invited to join the group.

The Death of Digby Catch is a book about strained family relationships, those people who you chose to be our family, instant attraction, and murder. And, as with most of what I write, quite a bit of humor. Fun!

You can read the blurb and an excerpt from the story below.

The Death of Digby Catch

It had been more than eighteen years since August Catch’s uncle Digby had disappeared to the Cape to mourn the death of his sister. So, when August arrives at Arachne’s Loom to collect his late uncle’s things, he wasn’t expecting to find stories of a man larger than life. Or the very real possibility that Digby’s death may not have been from natural causes.

Theo Webb has had few people in his life that he loved, and fewer still he could trust. But the estate groundskeeper, Digby Catch, had been one of them. Returning home for his funeral, he’s thrown together with Digby’s nephew, and the attraction is instant. But so is Theo’s certainty that things surrounding Digby’s death don’t add up and that at least one person isn’t telling the truth.

Discovering a killer is difficult when someone is desperate to keep more than just their identity a secret. And when all the clues point in one direction, even Theo isn’t sure what to think. The two of them must work together if they’re going to solve a murder, and not let the thing growing between them be a distraction.

But then, maybe a distraction is exactly what they need.

JMS Books • Universal Link

Read an Excerpt

“You look nice this morning.”
She made a noncommittal noise, too absorbed in the paper she was reading, just as his father had always been on those rare occasions when he joined them for breakfast. But she did look nice, in a pale blue blouse and a colored tint to her lips she’d been wearing for as long as he could remember.
Theo was hit then with a sad longing for something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, so he busied himself with breakfast, not looking up from his plate until he heard the door to the room open.
“Mrs. Webb?” Silvia, his mother’s assistant, was always so serious Theo thought it a miracle she’d stayed at his mother’s side for as long as she had. “Mr. Catch is here.”
He looked up then, and sat straighter in his chair.
August Catch was even more spectacular looking now after a few hours’ sleep and some dry clothes than Theo had imagined possible.
“Mr. Catch. Welcome to Arachne’s Loom.” His mother was out of her chair, animated in a way that only the presence of an attractive man was able to accomplish. “So glad you came.”
“Please, call me August.” He stole a look at Theo, and Theo smiled and tried hard not to apologize. For what exactly, he didn’t know, not yet. But there would inevitably be something, and it would be mortifying. The day was still young.
As she walked their guest down the length of the buffet, encouraging him to fill his plate, and practically wrapping herself around his arm like a snake, Theo’s appetite disappeared altogether.
“So, August.” They’d taken their chairs, and his mother had folded her newspaper and placed it on the corner of the table next to Theo. “Is this your first time to the Cape?”
“Yes.” August took his cloth napkin as he spoke, unfolded it, and placed it on his lap. “Digby invited me up to stay with him a few times, but it never worked out.”
“I think he might have been eyeing you as his replacement.” His mother was smiling, leaning toward him, making slow, deliberate circles on the tablecloth with one French-tipped nail. “Tell me, do you enjoy World Naked Gardening Day as much as your uncle did?”
“Good Lord, Kitty.” Theo was saved from having to cover his mother’s mouth with his hand by the appearance of her lawyer. Never had he been more happy for the arrival of Dante in his life. “Let the poor man eat his breakfast.”
“August?” Instead of looking embarrassed, his mother just smiled. “This is my dearest friend in all the world, Dante Lolan. Dante, this is August Catch.”
“Nice to meet you.” Dante poured a cup of coffee and took a seat at the far side of the table, looking less than pleased.
“Glad to see you’re feeling better.” Theo’s mother was still smiling serenely, as if she liked annoying the man.
“You’ve been sick, Dante?” Theo grabbed onto the change of subject.
“It was nothing. A little stomach bug. So, Mr. Catch.” Dante put an abrupt end to that conversation too. He didn’t like to share his personal life. It made Theo wonder what he and his mother found to talk about. “What is your plan, and how can Mrs. Webb be of service?”
“Well.” August picked up his fork, fiddling with it a few moments, before putting it back down. “I believe my uncle had a bedroom on the estate? I thought I could go through his things this afternoon, box up what I’ll be keeping, and make arrangements to ship it back…home.” He hesitated on the word home. “Or depending, swap out my rental for something larger and drive it back myself.”
“A house.” Theo wanted more than a single nightmare of a breakfast to get to know Digby’s nephew. “There’s a groundskeeper cottage at the back of the property. Near the greenhouse. Three bedrooms, one and a half baths, a kitchen, living room, and a study. It’ll probably take a little longer than an afternoon.”
“I’ve already had boxes and bubble wrap dropped off. And I’ll send you over a few of the girls to help.” For once, Theo hated his mother’s love for efficiency. “I’m sure you have a life to get back to.”
“Mom, August might want a little privacy.”
“Oh.” His mother turned and blinked at him, as if she’d just realized that they were talking about August’s dead uncle’s belongings. “Of course. I wasn’t thinking.”
“No. That’s alright, but yeah. I might prefer a chance to go through at least some of his things myself. But if you don’t mind, as soon as I think I’m ready, I would be grateful for the help.”
“Not to break this up, but there are a few things we need to discuss, you and I.”
Dante held Theo’s mother’s gaze for a long moment before she seemed to give in. She stood, pardoning them both, leaving Theo alone with August at the table.
“After breakfast, I can walk you over to the groundskeeper’s cottage.” August gave him a smile and did little more than slowly pick at his plate. “Digby used to use one of those…little utility vehicles to run around the property, but it’s not far, and a beautiful walk. “
“I’d appreciate it.” August gave him another one of those polite smiles, and Theo felt like he was failing at whatever it was he was trying to do. Maybe it was just that since Theo felt like he somehow knew August, he hoped August would look at him with the same recognition, and not paint him with the same brush as his mother. Or if nothing else, their shared connection with Digby would make them fast friends.
“So, you’re ground manager at a horse farm?”
“Up until recently.” August seemed relieved at the subject change. “The Blue Horse. It was more of a horse center really, with an equestrian history museum and campgrounds. And they host different events throughout the year.”
“Sounds nice. Do you ride?”
“No. I had someone that was teaching me.” August shrugged, and then seemed to abandon the pretense of eating altogether. “But that fell through.”
After a few moments of silence, Theo made a show of checking to see if anyone might be listening, looking to his right and then to his left, before leaning in. “How about we swap plates and then I’ll walk you over before my mother gets back. She’ll never even know you weren’t particularly hungry.”
This time August gave him a genuine smile, and Theo would have sworn he felt butterflies.
“You’d be my hero.”

You can check out another excerpt on my website at HERE.

About Amy Spector

Amy Spector grew up in the United States surviving on a steady diet of old horror movies, television reruns and mystery novels.

After years of blogging about comic books, vintage Gothic romance book cover illustrations, and a shameful amount about herself, she decided to try her hand at writing stories. She found it more than a little like talking about herself in third person, and that suited her just fine.

She blames Universal for her love of horror, Edward Gorey for her love of British drama and writing for awakening the romantic that was probably there all along.

Amy lives in the Midwest with her husband and children, and her cats Poe, Goji and Nekō.

Connect with Amy on social media:

Website • Facebook • Twitter • BookBub • Goodreads • Newsletter

The World Naked Gardening Day novellas

The Naked Gardening Day stories are a collaboration between Holly Day, Nell Iris, A. L. Lester, K. L. Noone and Amy Spector. They comprise five MM romance novellas featuring being naked in a garden somehow, somewhere, to mark World Naked Gardening Day on 7th May 2022.

All the World Naked Gardening Day stories

World Naked Gardening Day: Perfect Rows by Holly Day

Chickens!!! Erm… I mean hello, and thank you, Ally, for allowing me to drop by today. I’m here to talk about my new story, Perfect Rows, which was released yesterday. It’s part of our World Naked Gardening collaboration – World Naked Gardening Day was also yesterday. If you missed it but still want to give it a go, watch out for the nettles 😉

My excitement about chickens is that I have baby chicks, and this spring I’ve had one broody hen who’s been sitting on eggs. I know very little about broody hens other than that they’ll try to kill you if you get too close. We have two rows of nesting boxes, and she of course decided to have her babies on the second floor. Sigh. So we’ve had a couple of fun nightly adventures where we’ve gone out in the pitch dark to move her and her eggs. She’s been gracious about it – not! But after two tries we managed to get her settled in her own space where the nesting boxes are on ground level so no chicks will fall to their death.

In case you didn’t know, I’m slightly obsessed with chickens. This is a rather new thing for me. I’ve only kept hens for about three years, so I’m essentially a newbie. I often pester Ally, who’s an expert on the matter, with questions.

Sometimes when you write a story, you add little things for your own amusement. In Perfect Rows, Grayson wants to have chickens. He’s all about food security and sees the benefits of having chickens. He can feed his food scraps to his hens and get eggs for him and manure for the garden in return.

He has big plans.

Camden has big plans too. He wants a beautiful garden with lots of flowers. He pictures plants growing in perfect lines where nothing is out of place. He wants sweet fragrances and buzzing bees. And he most definitely doesn’t want any chickens. No crowing roosters are gonna interrupt his mornings.

The problem?

Camden and Grayson share the garden. They’re living in two cottage-style houses facing each other that once belonged to Grayson’s grandmother and her sister. Between the houses is an old kitchen garden with large raised beds, a greenhouse, and a barbeque area.

Grayson’s grandmother and her sister didn’t have any problems sharing the space. Grayson and Camden… there are some problems. The chicken issue is just one of them.

I had so much fun writing this one, and in case you didn’t realise, I’m on team Grayson. It’s not that I dislike Camden; it’s just that he’s wrong. Everyone should have chickens LOL

Perfect Rows

Everything would’ve been perfect if Grayson Dawe hadn’t been forced to share his garden with Camden Hensley. Grayson has everything he needs in life – a job, friends, a house he loves, and a garden. He wants to grow enough vegetables to cover his needs over the summer, and he has a plan for how to achieve it.

Camden Hensley loves his garden. He loves beautiful flowers in perfect rows, sweet scents and buzzing bees, but his neighbor, Grayson, messes everything up. He mixes vegetables with flowers in the growing beds and is incapable of placing plants in straight lines. And when Cam pulls out the plants growing in the wrong place, Grayson snarls at him.

Grayson doesn’t want to fight with Camden, but he’s completely unreasonable. Cam only wants Grayson to stop creating chaos and to grow flowers instead of vegetables. Neither of them is willing to back down, and days in the garden usually end in shouting matches, at least until Grayson realizes he can shut Cam up by kissing him. But will they ever be able to agree about what plants should grow where?

JMS Books :: Amazon :: books2read.com/PerfectRows

Read an Excerpt

Camden Hensley watched Grayson stalk off and blew out a breath. That was one fine ass; too bad it was attached to an ass. The garden could be lovely, it was lovely, but it could be truly beautiful if Grayson could only find it in himself to be a little more organized. Everything was higgledy-piggledy with Grayson. Everything. The way he dressed, the mess in his car—he mixed black T-shirts with white when he washed, for fuck’s sake. Though, Cam guessed he should be glad he washed at all.
A painter.
Who wanted to paint walls all day? And this obsession with chickens... He shook his head. It had started as soon as Grayson had moved in. He hadn’t been there more than a day or two before he’d approached Cam about wanting to build a chicken coop.
They would not have chickens running around, roosters crowing at dawn—no, thank you.
Cam loved his home, loved the garden, and the peace that came with living outside the city. But everything had been so much better when Frances had been alive. She’d been an adorable little lady and instead of criticizing everything Camden did in the garden, she’d been pleased.
He couldn’t believe Grayson was her grandson. They were nothing alike—not in appearance, not in manner, and Frances had never snarled at him. She baked cookies and used them as bribes to get him to sit with her in the garden and chat for a bit. She was easygoing, satisfied with life, and it was a welcome break from the ugliness of the world.
The garden had been his oasis until Grayson had moved in. Loud, demanding Grayson. He towered over Camden as if he believed his size would intimidate him. It did, but he’d never admit it.
Cam remembered Grayson from school, though he doubted Grayson remembered him. He’d been the rail-thin kid in the corner with unwashed clothes whose mother forgot to pack lunch on field day. She forgot to serve dinner too, but it wasn’t as obvious as the lack of lunch on field day.
Grayson had been wild. Not mean, but loud, though Camden had been terrified of him. He’d spent more time roaming the corridors than he had attending lessons, and then one day he’d been gone. Cam didn’t know what had happened, but someone had said he was working at his uncle’s painting firm, and since he was a painter now, Camden assumed the rumor had been true. He’d been fifteen then, so Grayson had been sixteen.
Camden looked at the house Grayson had stormed off to. Twenty-one years of painting walls, no wonder he was growling all the time. Cam would’ve died of boredom. Perhaps he should give in on the chickens simply to give Grayson something new in his life—no. No chickens. No noise. No mess. If Grayson wanted more excitement in his life, he could go back to school and get himself a better job.
He glanced at the house again. Had Grayson put on clothes?

JMS Books :: Amazon :: books2read.com/PerfectRows

About Holly Day

Connect with Holly on social media:

Website :: Facebook :: Twitter :: Pinterest :: BookBub :: Goodreads :: Newsletter

The World Naked Gardening Day novellas

#RAtR: Weird Internet Searches

This month’s topic for Read Around the Rainbow is the brainchild of Addison Albright—and I’m really looking forward to her post revealing whatever prompted this suggestion! As some of you already know, #RAtR is a blogging project I am doing with a few friends who also write LGBTQIA romance. You can find everyone by clicking here or on the image to the right, and I will link to everyone’s post on this month’s topic at the bottom of this page.

So. My weirdest internet search? For this question, I usually talk about researching butter lamps for The Flowers of Time and making my own butter from scratch and then rendering it to ghee and making a lamp in a jam-jar with a bit of string. I got a bit obsessed. I’ve downgraded that particular search to ‘only mildly obsessive’ over the last few years though, as things have moved on!

photo of brown metal cage with lighted candle — Photo by Craig Adderley on Pexels.com

I’m pretty sure that everyone who writes about murder or death has a disturbing search history story; and for The Quid Pro Quo I joined the team. I researched what a body would look like after being submerged for twenty four hours. I don’t recommend googling this for fun—I can still see some of the images in the articles I read and it was deeply unpleasant and upsetting.

When I’m researching things I know nothing about I find it very easy to get sucked into a rabbit-hole where I spend an unnecessary amount of time on subjects that are only going to be mentioned in passing in the story. I need to get the background straight in my head in order to be able to drop a couple of colourful details in there. If it’s something I know a bit about already, even if that’s only incidental knowledge, it’s much easier to know what it is I don’t know, if that makes sense?

For example, Out of Focus is set in the world of contemporary theatre. I know quite a bit about how the technical side of that works and I knew what I didn’t know…I went off and found out about scissor lifts and health and safety regulations and it took me a couple of hours. In contrast I spent two days searching and reading up on how eighteenth century women dealt with menstruation for The Flowers of Time—not because it featured in the story particularly, but just because I felt as if it was something that would impact my characters even if I never mentioned it.

I think that’s partly why I’ve set seven books in the post-WW1 period now. I’ve done my research and I feel confident with the background colour of the era. Yes, okay, I have to toddle off and read up on what treatment you’d use for migraine, or whether medicals were required by then to join the army. But I’ve got all the building bricks in place, I know where to find the resources and I’m comfortable.

It’s a very nice feeling, being able to hunker down in a setting you’re reasonably knowledgeable in and just get on with the narrative. I think that’s why I’m enjoying writing my short contemporary stories so much—the only searching I did for Surfacing Again for example, was to use Google Earth to walk the old pilgrim route to Lindisfarne.

When I have the time and inclination I try to gather my research sources together for particular books and time-periods. You can find them under the menu Interesting History Stuff at the top of the page. It’s a bit of a work in progress and it’s not comprehensive, but it also serves to remind me what I looked at 😊.

So what am I going to leave next in my browser history? Honestly, I don’t know. This year I have crashed and burned a bit as far as longer projects are concerned, but I had planned to write the final book in the Bradfield trilogy, so if that happens I’ll be going back to the 1920s. And perhaps a companion book to The Flowers of Time, which is going to take a bit of a jump-start as I’ve forgotten quite a lot about the 1780s. I feel as if I want to get those done, interspersed with contemporary Celtic myths and the Theatre Fach world, before I begin a completely fresh project. However, it might be that I just stick with the contemporaries for now rather than forcing myself to concentrate on anything longer.

Watch this space and you’ll be the first to know!

http://www.amyspectorauthor.com/blog2To find out what’s in the internet search histories of my Read Around the Rainbow colleagues, visit their blogs here! K. L. Noone, Addison Albright, Nell Iris, Ofelia Grand, Holly Day, Fiona Glass, Ellie Thomas, Lillian Francis, Amy Spector.