Bloggers/Book Lovers from India discussion

Hello Fellow Bookworms,

I have started a Reviewers Programme on my book site - The Tales Pensieve

The intention is to help Indian authors get their books more visibility through more reviews and also to get my fellow bloggers more books to read and review.

Kindly join our bloggers network so that you stay updated about every new book that comes up for review on the site. Currently there are 6, please do check. The link: http://thetalespensieve.com/reviewers...

Thank you. See you amongst Tales in the Pensive.

Reshmy Pillai

Hey thanks! I just started my new book review blog That Artsy Girl's Book Blog and this is a great opportunity for me to get more books to review!

My Book Review blog is Books Are My Best Friends.

It's just a few days old, please check it out and leave your comments. :)

I am offering free ebooks to Indian readers and bloggers. These have just been made available at Amazon India:
http://www.amazon.in/Make-Market-Sell...
http://www.amazon.in/The-Little-Unive...
http://www.amazon.in/Jims-Life-ebook/...
http://www.amazon.in/Make-Your-Free-W...
http://www.amazon.in/Get-Google-Front...

"Check out the Indian collection of books.Hope you like this link because this link is totally for Asian.

http://www.southasiabooks.com/afghani...
http://www.southasiabooks.com/astrolo...
http://www.southasiabooks.com/africa-...
http://www.southasiabooks.com/agricul...
http://www.southasiabooks.com/alterna...
http://www.southasiabooks.com/anthrop...
http://www.southasiabooks.com/archaeo...
http://www.southasiabooks.com/archite...
http://www.southasiabooks.com/art-his...

I recently started www.bookadorers.com I review books and refrain as much as possible from telling story as most reviews do. Its a review, so I think story should not be completely told in a book review.
Please pay a visit to my site, I have just started it, so reviews are very less.
Here are sample reviews
http://bookadorers.com/gods-kings-and...

http://bookadorers.com/tiger-by-the-t...

http://bookadorers.com/the-einstein-p...

http://bookadorers.com/the-ghost-hunt...

Thanks

Reshmy wrote: "Hello Fellow Bookworms,

I have started a Reviewers Programme on my book site - The Tales Pensieve

The intention is to help Indian authors get their books more visibility through more reviews and ..."

Hey dear I have joined to your site. Hoping to get books and enjoy them.

Hello Dear, haven't received any reply from you, I have submitted for book review on ur website.

Hi,
I wish to give away few copies of my novel, a Second Spring...brings new hope (fiction - contemporary romance) for review.

Please contact me at sandhya0019@yahoo.com with your address to mail the book.

Following is the synopsis of the book

Synopsis
A woman who cannot compromise… A man who will not dare to care... A love blossomed was deeper than the passion…
Avantika, as a successful investment banker, struggles against her growing attraction to her charming colleague that she fears above all just might be her true love and soul mate. She’s been hurt in the past, so she must tread cautiously where Rohan is concerned.

Rohan, an attractive, smart, aspiring investment banker is a part of Avantika’s team. He struggles to gain the foothold in his career, while at the same time, he battles against his strong desire toward Avantika. Her strong will to resist the idea of unconventional love, his constant struggle to exert rigid control over will and passion… only to succumb to it during business trips that changed the course of their lives forever.

Mysteriously and ruthlessly, destiny takes both of them on a separate ways.

Rohan blames himself for the disastrous exit when he had to choose duty over love and endures the torturous guilt of breaking Avantika’s heart.

Betrayed by the man she trusted, Avantika distanced herself from everything that was associated with their love. However, haunted by the deep passion that still rages in his soul, Rohan re-discovers the deep-rooted love for her that he tucked away for years.

The question is, will Avantika accept him back?

Sandhya wrote: "Hi,
I wish to give away few copies of my novel, a Second Spring...brings new hope (fiction - contemporary romance) for review.

Please contact me at sandhya0019@yahoo.com with your address to mail ..."

Hello, I would love to review the book

do check this blog
http://books.merrybrains.com

Hi All,

I have recently started a book review blog:
http://booksmoreorless.blogspot.in/

Please do check and comment :)

Hi All, I recently put up my review policy. you can check the same here Review Policy

Do let me know if your books are to be reviewed

Thanks a lot
Devi

Yes. I want my book SHADES OF LOVE AND OTHER STORIES FROM INDIA to be reviewed.
Author: Paul Mohan Roy
Available in flipckart.in and
amazon.in

rpaulmohanroy@yahoo.co.in

Hi All,
I just published reviews for Royal Institute of Magic and Love's Last Call
Check out my blog at Thoughts
You can find my Review Policy and Review Request form here
Do get in touch with me for reviews


Cheers
Devi

Hi all please review my book 'ROMANCE OF LIFE-LOVE AND LET LIVE'.. HERE ARE THE WEBSITES TO AVAIL IT

http://www.flipkart.com/romance-life-...

http://www.infibeam.com/Books/romance...

thank you

Sincerely yours
Biswanath Banerjee
address- BISWANATH BANERJEE 1,DARJEE PARA BYE LANE KOLKATTA-700006,WEST BENGAL,INDIA
BLOG URL-eokhardahreview.wordpress.com

We’ve started a new blog on writing encouraging but honest, detailed, vivid review of books that is either authored by writers of Indian origin or that have some connections with India.
Our blog URL-eokhardahreview.wordspress.com
In addition review will be posted in blogs of
http://www.globalethicsnetwork.org/pr...
And face book and other social media sites.
Anybody interested can send us hard copies to
BISWANATH BANERJEE, 1,DARJEE PARA BYE LANE,KOLKATTA-700006,WEST BENGAL,INDIA, phone no-+91 9804789681
Or
DISTICT EMPLOYMENT EXCHANGE, KAKDWIP-743347,SOUTH 24 PARGANAS,WEST BNEGAL,INDIA, phone no- +91 3210 255205

Or soft copies in eokhardha@gmail.com
Or deekakdwip@gmail.com
Genres we’ll consider includes family,romance,crime,horror,thriller,supernatural,mystery,speculative and lots more.

Happy authoring
Biswanath Banerjee

Shalini Srinivasan’s new novel Vanamala and the Cephalopod -review
Little thieving sun

These are the concluding words of Shalini Srinivasan’s new novel Vanamala and the Cephalopod –the words that very well describes her writing. Late Satyajit Roy once remarked about a book that it’s un-put-down-able, which means if you start with it, you have to finish it. The same thing can best describe this absorbing fantasy.

Vanamala is a little girl, who being disgusted with the little sister put up a notice in a local shop to sell her sister! She never imagined that she’ll have response to her advertisement. But unexpected did happened! She found a taker!

Who might it be? Whom did she suspected, or some others? Will she ever be able to find her sister? Where she had to go? Was it the land or the sea? If it was the sea, then how she had managed to survive under? If it was the land, then how she was provided with clues? Did she found anybody else other than her little sister? What was the ultimate fate?

You’ll love this fascinating tale of fantasy-absolutely love it. The writer has written for Amar Chitra Katha and she has natural flair for storytelling. With the skill of master craftsmen, she had narrated an absorbing story. The characterization of Lettuce Grower and Girish are unique. Human emotions are imparted in a classic way to the non human characters.

With words she had painted a picture. Example of such a narrative is

“When the Lettuce Grower got near, the octopus swung open the doors silently and the tentacles started to wriggle around vaguely, feeling for them. Varnamala brushed past the tentacles as fast as she could.

Behind her, Girish was mumbling’ -wait. Wait, what if the door closes before I’m through?”

The mention of through which opens the door of another (in reality, two other worlds) reminds us of one of the legendary works of fantasy (no marks for guessing). The book also has a message embedded-we, the humans, who think we are mightiest are not actually so after all. The young reader will love to adore the nature around-if he finds this book. Although recommended for young readers ,it will be suitable for young adults ,too.

Illustrations by Sebin Simon are terrific and the production quality of Duckbills Books is truly international for this paperback.

Page count-186, price-INR 225

Shalini Srinivasan’s new novel Vanamala and the Cephalopod -review
Little thieving sun

These are the concluding words of Shalini Srinivasan’s new novel Vanamala and the Cephalopod –the words that very well describes her writing. Late Satyajit Roy once remarked about a book that it’s un-put-down-able, which means if you start with it, you have to finish it. The same thing can best describe this absorbing fantasy.

Vanamala is a little girl, who being disgusted with the little sister put up a notice in a local shop to sell her sister! She never imagined that she’ll have response to her advertisement. But unexpected did happened! She found a taker!

Who might it be? Whom did she suspected, or some others? Will she ever be able to find her sister? Where she had to go? Was it the land or the sea? If it was the sea, then how she had managed to survive under? If it was the land, then how she was provided with clues? Did she found anybody else other than her little sister? What was the ultimate fate?

You’ll love this fascinating tale of fantasy-absolutely love it. The writer has written for Amar Chitra Katha and she has natural flair for storytelling. With the skill of master craftsmen, she had narrated an absorbing story. The characterization of Lettuce Grower and Girish are unique. Human emotions are imparted in a classic way to the non human characters.

With words she had painted a picture. Example of such a narrative is

“When the Lettuce Grower got near, the octopus swung open the doors silently and the tentacles started to wriggle around vaguely, feeling for them. Varnamala brushed past the tentacles as fast as she could.

Behind her, Girish was mumbling’ -wait. Wait, what if the door closes before I’m through?”

The mention of through which opens the door of another (in reality, two other worlds) reminds us of one of the legendary works of fantasy (no marks for guessing). The book also has a message embedded-we, the humans, who think we are mightiest are not actually so after all. The young reader will love to adore the nature around-if he finds this book. Although recommended for young readers ,it will be suitable for young adults ,too.

Illustrations by Sebin Simon are terrific and the production quality of Duckbills Books is truly international for this paperback.

Page count-186, price-INR 225

Paul Mohan Roy Author of Shades of Love and other Stories from India. Check for review and purchase: amazon.in
flipkart.co.in
-------------------------------------------------------------
My Big Wedding Night

By
R.Paul Mohan Roy

Till last summer I was swinging around my mother, cuddling onto her arms for a quick hug or sleeping on grandma’s lap.
My nineteenth birthday onwards things had changed. “You are no more a child. Now you’re a grown up girl ready for marriage,” was my mother’s opening refrain every morning. My grandma’s accompanying note would be a cautious one. “A marriage is a tender sapling,” she would say. “It needs careful transplantation and nurturing to make it stand for a thousand years. Let’s wait for a good proposal.”
To my father and mother marriage became a subject for discussion during breakfast and dinner.
One day, my father said his friend and the local MLA was happy to take me as his daughter-in-law.
“The MLA is a big gun in his party, though his party is not in the ruling coalition,” mother replied, throwing a glance at me to check my reaction.
“He’s confident his party will return to power in the next election. I’ve seen his son once when he came to the club driving his Skoda to meet a friend. I think the boy is a high school dropout. Our Manju is college going girl,” said my father.
“If he is a school dropout… we should reconsider the proposal.” My grandma was quick to assert her opinion. I liked it.
“As a son of an MLA he has opportunities to grow in politics. That the MLA is also a leader of our community is another plus point. What else we expect in Manju’s future husband?” It was my mother’s point of view.
“One day the boy may become an MLA and a minister. Think of our Manju becoming the wife of a minister,” mother added another dimension to her stand.
“The MLA is like an uncrowned monarch in our area.” Mother said. “Our constituency is something like the pocket borough of his family. They will represent us in the Assembly for generations.” To this, my father said, “The boy still appears in the third-page news columns.”
Ignoring my presence they were discussing something that concerned me. Father said his last words, “We don’t know our Manju’s idea of marrying into a politician’s family.”


“Manju dear, today evening the MLA and his wife are visiting us. They want to see you. Please come early. I’ve left instructions to the driver to bring you home by four.” This was my mother’s way of saying the curtain is raised for the first act in the marriage play: Bride-seeing. It’s an old tradition most Indian families are still following.
“What if I come late,” I swallowed my question.

My evening home bound ride was the best time in my daily schedule. The driver uncle was knowledgeable in many subjects. He was my window to the world outside. At times I would even request him to go slow. I enjoyed watching my class mates riding bicycles or scooters. And I envied their simple freedom, their way of enjoying leisure hours at home or outside, while I was always nailed to a routine set by my parents.
I wished the car to stop at every signal. I wanted to see young men on their Hondas or Yamahas standing level with the car window, honking or raising the accelerator to draw my attention and catch a glimpse of my forlorn look. Today I was wondering how the MLA’s son would look like, handsome and acceptable or rough and tardy. If the MLA is a monarch, his son must be a prince. This was my logical expectation.


On reaching home, I found the house spruced up, furniture polished and realigned and windows covered with new curtains.
“Oh! Dear you’ve come in time. Take care to look presentable. You know the MLA’s wife. She’ll observe every inch of you—I mean she will closely look at you, the dress and jewels you wear and the way you appear before the guests.”
Evening the bride-seeing function started. Everyone tried to turn it formal. I was made to look like a doll and sit before a bunch of watchful eyes. I knew they would ask the same customary questions they are supposed to ask, the answers to which they already know. They would come with certain four-point scale in a preferential order to measure my suitability as a bride: wealth, age, skin complexion and lastly education. Yet the elders would disperse saying marriages are made in heaven.
My friends are the source of information on all rituals relating to marriage and Santhi-muhoortham—the wedding night, and my role in each. This they would tell me in a chorus of mild giggles.

The MLA and his wife entered the hall accepting my parents’ warm welcome, saying a mouthful of Namaskars. I was not to walk into their presence immediately. My mother had drawn certain protocol that the bride-to-be must follow.
Mother came to my room, profusely panting and dragging her heavy sari. And she was seen murmuring something to herself, a quick prayer perhaps. She looked an inch shorter as she was not able to carry her own body and the jewels.
How many sessions of this kind my mother would have undergone before being chosen by my dad’s people? I was wondering.
Mother signaled me to follow her. Holding my hands two of her friends led me to the hall.
I was asked to say Namaskar to the MLA and his wife. The MLA, a fatty huge bear of a man smiled and patted on my shoulders. He said, “Oh! She is now a grownup lady. Last time when I saw her she was a small girl, running errand to her grandma. See, how years fly by.”
I knew it was a routine compliment, a simple one all elders love to shower on the young.
“She was then in high school. Now she’s in the final year of her college studies,” was my mother’s timely reply on the inevitable process of growing.
They all talked something not connected to marriage or the wedding day. Perhaps they would have checked and cross checked the other points—the matching of horoscopes and the extant of dowry, expected and agreed-upon—in their previous and more casual rounds of discussions. Now this was only an informal bride-seeing ceremony to satisfy the custom and come with an announcement that the marriage was ‘arranged’ by the elders.
The MLA first apologised for having come late by an hour. He said he was in a meeting with the party president.
“The discussion was on new ways to organise our party in my area. The talk was on the welfare of our young followers and I was keen to look into every aspect. I offered some suggestions on several issues —my humble contribution to our party. Hence this delay,” he said.
I saw dad in a silent mood, but smiling. He was passively listening to the MLA’s self-proclaimed role in politics, conveyed in an unbelievably humble way. I knew dad was the last man to believe it.
The MLA continued, “On the wedding day, I would have to steal time to be with you. I expect a very large gathering of relatives and well-wishers. The whole cabinet would come to bless the couple, followed by their supporters and a pose of security men. Anyway it is an important occasion to all our party people.”
I looked at the worried face of my father. Perhaps he was thinking how my wedding would become the MLA’s party function designed to boost his image.
“Let’s make the wedding simple. After all we’re bringing two young people into wedlock,” said the MLA sipping the Bhadam Gheer that mother had served.
“Oh! What a sweet drink you’ve prepared. Give me one more glass. I like it,” he said, still licking the few last drops in the glass he was holding.
My mother obliged immediately and said, “It’s our Manju who prepared it. She is good at these things,” a blatant lie said on my behalf.
“Our son is lucky to marry a girl with such culinary expertise,” the MLA’s wife said. The MLA was now wiping off the extra Gheer that got smeared on his upper lip. He approved his wife’s statement with a nod.
“How is your friend, I mean your college mate, now sitting with the ruling coalition in the Assembly”? The M.L.A threw a contemptuous inquiry about dad’s best friend for years.
“We don’t meet often. But when occasion demands we’d ring up and talk,” dad confided the truth.
The MLA had his own way of showing he was superior to dad’s friend. He suggested, “Tell him he has no opportunity to rise up in his party. I’ve a soft corner for him. He’s our man. Doesn’t he belong to our community? I want to help him. If he’s ready to switch to our side I’ll speak to my party president and arrange for his entry without much fanfare. He is one of those unfortunate men who have joined the wrong party.”
The elders exchanged pleasantries, spoke about the scorching sun, failure of monsoon and water scarcity, and updated news about their leader’s activities as if they all had an invisible connection to my proposed marriage. They rose up. At the end, the MLA’s wife hugged me, offered a pretty long string of fresh jasmine, tucked it into my hairdo, kissed me on my forehead and tickled my cheeks—signs confirming the deal in favour of everyone present.

Next day, I learned from the driver uncle that my marriage was arranged, the date fixed, an auspicious Wednesday, and a marriage hall booked, all without consulting me. Why they didn’t tell me first, I was asking myself all day.
“I’ve not seen the groom yet,” I told my father. Father conveyed this to the MLA when he visited us next time. The MLA replied with a smile, “Is it? Days are changing, I know. No wonder Manju wants to see her man. I’ll arrange a dinner tomorrow evening in the Hotel Palm Grove. Let the two take dinner and spend an hour in the hotel lounge. I’ll keep a table reserved for them.”
He turned to me and spoke about his son, “I suggested he go to Harvard or Yale for a law degree. But he said he has a passion to serve our people by being a politician.”
Do Harvard and Yale enroll school dropouts, was my doubt. I could not share it with anyone.
“You’ll be impressed about his knowledge of politics. He knows all the crucial issues in our party—the party agenda, the crowd-pulling strategies, enrolling new members and vote-gathering techniques. He has even prepared speeches for me and our president. Besides he is a tireless worker for the welfare of our community.” The MLA coaxed his words to sound true.
Next evening the driver uncle drove me to the hotel where the MLA and his son received me with an obliging smile and reverence. During the dinner, the MLA excused himself and left early. He told us he had to catch up with another important meeting elsewhere.
The son of the MLA was not young or handsome. He was not the prince I had in mind. His handlebar moustache looked bigger than his face. The sideburns were incongruously thick and long. He ate a liberal quantity of several dishes and licked off the morsels on his fingers and left the plates clean. He washed down all that he ate with two bottles of Coca-Cola at one stretch.
Sitting opposite a man for the first time and taking dinner with him in a hotel, was it a blind date? I endured it half-heartedly.
He asked me what subject I was studying in the college. I said, “Economics.” I didn’t know it was the only word I ever spoke to him in my life.
“Oh! Economics, fine, you’re studying it while I’m working for economic equality among our people. What a strange coincidence”, the man blurted out with a loud laugh. There was no charm in his voice, no trace of having ever attended a school or college.

The wedding turned out to be a big event. It was even dreamier than I could imagine. A team of florists, decorators, caterers and beauticians were pressed into service. Jasmine and roses, the hall smelt of these things while I was drenching in sweat. It was obvious the MLA was creating opportunities to flaunt his influence. My wedding had become one. Under the heavy smell of flowers and sandal I felt suffocating.

Continued

They wore a made-up-for-the-occasion smile for the media flash, their gifts carried and delivered by their personal assistants. I was tired of producing an artificial smile for each guest and choked under their hugs and handshakes.
The MLA and my father embraced to say the function was a great success.


Before I was ushered into the nuptial bed my grandma spoke to me in whispers for a brief minute. She told me what to expect on a wedding night and tutored me on what my friends had giggled out already.
The man, my husband was in the room, rose up, locked it from inside and sat on the middle of the bed. When he motioned me to sit I chose the other end of the cot and sat at its edge.
The upper part of his white shirt was left unbuttoned, revealing a broad hairy chest and a big gold chain. He tried to strike a casual conversation about his days in school, his circle of friends for whom he was a leader and his insatiable passion to serve the people. He spoke nonstop and I listened dutifully, casting a series of pretensions to say I believed his words.
He was not keen to know my interests I was eagerly waiting to share with him.
As he went into a long monologue I felt drowsy. Everything seemed new and undreamt of: A man, my husband, sitting by me and telling me the stories of his youth and political ambitions, all lulling me to sleep.
Suddenly I heard voices outside. Someone was calling my husband by name. Was it my mother-in-law’s voice? It was followed by a gentle knock on the door. Cursing the situation, my husband got up, opened the door and held it half-open.
I saw his mother standing behind the door. He went out leaving me alone. My mother-in-law looked at me, smiling broadly and apologetically, and waited for me to respond her smile. I didn’t.
“Excuse me,” she said, “The party president is on the phone line. He wants to talk to my son. It seems something urgent. He was at the wedding hall for a few minutes and left early. Now, I think he wants to bless you both. Your husband will come and join you in another few minutes.”

When I woke up it was seven in the morning. I heard voices downstairs, people talking in high pitch. I saw my husband sleeping by my side. Lying on his stomach, his legs splayed out, spider-like, he was snoring in mild rhythms. The sight was repulsive. I didn’t recollect when he returned or slipped into the bed. Nor I could remember anything unusual happened to me as predicted by my grandma.
I sat upright. I didn’t know what I was expected to do when my newly married husband was still in deep sleep.
There was a knock on the door, gentle at first, followed by a series of thuds. Someone yelled out my name, the voice was not familiar. There was nothing pleasant in the tone. Neither it was friendly, “Manjula, open the door.” I got up; it was with some effort and fear. I was in heavy bridal outfit, still undone.
I thought someone had come with coffee. I opened the door. In a blurred vision I saw a handful of men. It was strange to see a large pose of policemen in all ranks and cadre, including a stout woman police officer.
What’s happening in an MLA’s house, post-wedding morning, that too in a bed room where the newly married couple had slept the previous night, I was wondering.
Brushing me aside the lady officer entered and shouted, “Here he is. Take him.” The words were authoritative and ungraceful, as they fell out loudly.
“We were waiting for the dawn. We didn’t want to disturb you in the middle of your wedding night,” I heard the same female voice, less harsh but still unsympathetic. She was curious to see my lipstick and eyeliner still fresh and the sari unruffled. On the nuptial bed, the previous night, my husband did not reach for my body. I was sure.
“Look, how innocently he is sleeping,” cried another officer. It touched the height of scorn and sarcasm.
My husband got up as if nothing serious were happening around him. He did not resist or speak anything in defence. The officers held his arms and lifted him up. He followed them in majestic strides as though he were escorted to a political function where he was to chair a meeting. No one took notice of me.
In the melee the driver uncle managed to step in.
“Manju”, he called me out. His breathing was a strange mix of fear and astonishment. “Last night a man was done to death near their party headquarters. Your husband is the prime suspect. Now they are taking him for interrogation.”
Fear gripped me. All my dreams were twisted into one terrible nightmare.
“Why?” I cried out, feeling a sudden hatred for my husband of a night. I couldn’t believe he had become a murderer on the very day of our marriage. The driver uncle hissed into my ears, “The murdered man was an up-and–coming leader in their party’s youth wing. And your husband hates men from other communities sharing reins of his party.”
My marriage was celebrated in pomp and splendor, and my wedding night passed unconsummated, leaving me a murderer’s wife and someone a widow.

Years later I learnt how the MLA and his son turned my marriage a perfect alibi to commit a murder and escape. It is part of the contentious history of their party, for they were playing a lumpen politics to the cheers of a sleepy mass.

I invite you all to visit the India Non-Fiction Festival in New Delhi, India on 15th and 16th of November at India Habitat Centre.

This is Asia's leading festival in the genre. The inaugural festival was held in June 2013 in Mumbai and the New Delhi Edition in November 2013. The 2014 Series kicked in Mumbai in January. All editions saw engaged participants from different backgrounds interacting with authors, practitioners, politicians, journalists making it one of the world's largest Non Fiction Festivals.

Join us https://www.facebook.com/indianonfict...

I AM INTERESTED IN REVIEWING.

We’ve started a new blog on writing encouraging but honest, detailed, vivid review of books that is either authored by writers of Indian origin or that have some connections with India.
Our blog URL-eokhardahreview.wordspress.com
In addition review will be posted in blogs of
http://www.globalethicsnetwork.org/pr...
And face book and other social media sites.
Anybody interested can send us hard copies to
BISWANATH BANERJEE, 1,DARJEE PARA BYE LANE,KOLKATTA-700006,WEST BENGAL,INDIA, phone no-+91 9804789681
Or
DISTICT EMPLOYMENT EXCHANGE, KAKDWIP-743347,SOUTH 24 PARGANAS,WEST BNEGAL,INDIA, phone no- +91 3210 255205

Or soft copies in eokhardha@gmail.com
Or deekakdwip@gmail.com
Genres we’ll consider includes family,romance,crime,horror,thriller,supernatural,mystery,speculative and lots more.

Happy authoring
Biswanath Banerjee

good idea

Great idea!

Great idea!

I review books on my blog - www.ajulitulsyan.wordpress.com...I can be reached on ajuli01@gmail.com

Childrens novels are always fun to read. Just read another one
check out my review at The Clockwork Mechanical by Peter R. Stone

An awesome Jewish murder mystery reviewed and absolutely liked Wedding Wipeout by Jacob M. Appel . No matter what the other reviewers say, I am all for the book and honestly hope another one to come out soon. Check out the book at

Tried yet another romantic novel Hidden Lakes by Melanie P. Smith and liked it. Love stories, it seems, do interest me after all. You must check it out at

Reviewed Peril, The Legend of Sedrak by Jackie G. Mills a nice thriller suspense kind of book with a lot of adventure to it. Check out the book at

Also check out Vasu and the Matsya Temple by Rajeev Tanwar

Looking for an honest, detailed review of your work?

Check our review blog at-http://eokhardahreview.wordpress.com/
http://jayasreesown.wordpress.com/
Talented upcoming writers-we like to promote your work through review!
Contact us at
eokhardah@gmail.com
jayashreeroy007@gmailcom
deekakdwip@gmail.com

Another YA Fiction comes my way but it was not such an entertaining read for me. Check out my review at The Dragon Dreamer

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A short story with a bit of confusion about what the story was exactly is
Check out my review at Shadows in the Brook

A brilliant murder mystery with a hint of romance in it
Mystery romance lovers must try it. Check out my review at Amazon Burning

Another romance novel but can be passed
Check out my review at Twisted Engagement

is a children's novel with an amazing moral at the end. The book is worth reading for kids of any age group. Check out my review at The Little Parrot and the Angel's Tears

is the second in the trilogy of Grazi kelly novels. It is a YA adventure thriller and a wonderful read for any age group. Check out my reviews at Hunter Moon: A Grazi Kelly Novel #2

is the first of a two part novel of the return of Jesus Christ. A wonderful thriller novel, it is a cannot-put-me-down type of book. Try my review of The Return

is a chess based murder mystery. Do not go by the title of the book. Although the title in itself is not very catchy, the story is irresistible. A completely engrossing tale, it is a must read for all murder mystery / thriller enthusiasts. Check out my review at Even Dead Men Play Chess

is the second in the Ray Gordon mysteries. Another brilliant work by Michael Weitz, this is a notch up from the first book. Totally awesome. check out my review at The Grandmaster's King

A story of finding self, is an enlightening read. A spiritual kind of fiction book, it is engrossing and meditative in the theme. A definite must try one, check my review at City Of Nine Gates (City Trilogy #1)

The Mystery of the Blue Dolphins by Sandra Baublitz

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


Read the complete review at The Mystery of the Blue Dolphins (A Clarissa and Paw Mini Mystery, Vol. 1)


A very short murder mystery but with such an awesome punch which sometimes even a full fledged novel cannot deliver. Clarissa and Paw are absolute lovable detectives. The Saint Bernard Paw is a darling digger and Clarissa is a very intuitive owner. Together, they manage to solve a murder mystery which was considered to be a suicide at first.



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The Sinister Urge by Frances Newton

My rating: 2 of 5 stars


Read the complete review at The Sinister Urge

Yes, it is a love story alright. But the love story is between a brother and a sister. No, it is not an affectionate love story. It is an incest love story. Those who like to read it will like the story.

The character building is nice. The story is nice. But the incest kills the mood. Unfortunately, a 2 star, but only because I am not comfortable with incest. Otherwise it is a good one.



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Dancing With A Cowboy by Sandi K. Whipple

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


Read the complete review at Dancing With A Cowboy

When I took "Dancing with the cowboy", I had serious misgivings about it. But the moment I finished the first chapter, I knew I was hooked. Finished the 250 page book in 3 hours flat, that is how much I loved it. Right from the previous book, I loved her stories. This one is just another one to be adored and totally loved.

The character building is really nice. The language, which put me off in the second book, has developed substantially in this one. The description and depiction is classy. The story is sweet, albeit a tad bit predictable. There is some suspense at the end but even that is nice.



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Legacy: The Murefre Saga by B.R. Jensen

My rating: 2 of 5 stars


Check the complete review at
Legacy: The Murefre Saga (book 1)

Legacy is a sci-fi, into the future kind of book. Unfortunately it is too much into the future for my liking. The story is set in a world where human beings are sorted into three categories: Murefre, human beings and Tonug Gal

For those who like sci fi stories set far into the future, this will be an interesting read. The setting and description are detailed and proper. There are first person narration from literally all the characters. There is heart break, treachery, fights, loyalty, everything.



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