Archive for November 16, 2013

Amish Heart by Miranda Rush

Posted: November 16, 2013 in Uncategorized

MIRANDA RUSH

Writer of Gritty, Sexy Books

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This review is long overdue (sorry, Miranda). I first read Miranda’s stories on WordPress. On her page she mentioned that she was doing a final edit of her trilogy, “Amish Heart”. From what I had already seen, I couldn’t wait to read the books. I wasn’t disappointed. Following are the Amazon descriptions, followed by my reviews:

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Amish Heart

Feverishly erotic tale of Rebekah, a young Amish girl in a small northern Missouri town, who is being forced to marry Ezekiel, a man she despises. She despairs until she meets Nick, an American man, and quickly becomes swept up in sweet hypnotic seduction.
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5.0 out of 5 stars Exciting, Sexy Nov. 12 2013
This book drew me in from the first sentence. If life hadn’t gotten in the way, I wouldn’t have put it down until the end of the trilogy. A word of advice, buy all three at once. You don’t want to get caught, not knowing what happens next. This story has everything, romance, drama, excitement, seduction and the most sizzling, tingling sex scenes I’ve ever read.

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Amish Passion

Just when Rebekah thought the dark secret she had guarded for so long was safe, Nick re-enters her life and her world explodes around her with twisted emotions, raw eroticism, and mortal danger.

5.0 out of 5 stars The excitement never ends. Nov. 12 2013
Rebekah has a life altering commitment to make. The excitement and suspense continue as she is torn between love and what she considers to be her pledge to her sister and God. The plot continues with twists and turns, suspense, violence, and scenes of steamy, unbridled sex. I can’t say enough about how much I enjoyed this book.
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Amish Redemption
As this dark explicit romantic tale comes to an end, Rebekah is faced with tragedy and terrible decisions. She searches for release from her bonds using seductively twisted erotic means.
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5.0 out of 5 stars Left me exhausted (in a good way). I can’t wait for Miranda’s next book.,November 16, 2013
This is the best read I’ve experienced for a long time. This book has everything, a great plot, superb character development, tension, suspense, sorrow, redemption and sizzling, tingling, erotic scenes that will leave you exhausted. I will be on the waiting list for the next book by Miranda Rush.
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Needless to say, I enjoyed these books. You will too.
Happy reading,
Dennis

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9 November 2013

When I walked past the park today a police car had pulled up and two officers were talking to the guys sitting on the curb. Jacques waved at me. I waved back. Andre said to me, “I told them I’m just waiting for my worker. This is where she told me to wait for her.

“Dennis, could you do me a big favor. They made me pour out all my liquor. I need a bottle.”

“I’m on my way to an appointment, so I can’t go on a liquor run.”

“I don’t have any money.”

“I don’t carry any cash, but I’ll see what I can do.” I stopped in at the Transit Office to pick up my bus pass, then went looking for a liquor store. There was one in the Rideau Mall, but they didn’t sell Canadian Sherry. I walked a few blocks down Rideau Street to another liquor store and was able to find a bottle of Imperial Sherry. I brought it back, but Emile had already left with his worker.

I said to Little Jake, “Andre asked me to pick this up for him, could you see he gets it? I know he’d want to share so, could you also see that Shakes gets a drink?”

Some people would think that what I did was unethical, but an alcoholic needs some alcohol in their system or they can’t function. They also feel very sick.

 

10 October 2012

This morning was even colder than yesterday. I gave a picture of Silver, from the funeral home, to Metro. He would have seen him every morning for nearly eleven years. Joy was wrapped in her blanket, rubbing her legs. “I wore the wrong shoes today. These Pumas, given to me by Wolf, are worth about a hundred and fifty bucks. People look at me and they figure, Why are you panhandling if you can afford shoes like that? I try to hide them, but I have to straighten my legs out to rub them every once in a while. They’re really bad today.”

“How are you and Chester getting along these days?”

“He got really drunk last night. I gave him some money and asked him to buy a bottle for me. He used my money to buy himself more beer. He went through an eighteen pack yesterday. Usually, after six he’ll be asleep.

“He was saying to me, ‘Joy, I love you. I wont mind if you stay after Christmas. Then he touched my leg. He hasn’t done that for a while.”

“I said to him, ‘Chester, you don’t like to be touched. I feel the same way, so keep your hands to yourself.’

“Later, he was banging around in the kitchen stark naked. He said, ‘What’s for supper?’ I told him, ‘I’m having this box of Kraft Dinner. I don’t know what you’re having. When are you going to buy some groceries?’ I’ve really spent a lot this month supplying him with cigarettes — and he chain smokes, one right after another. I’ve bought all the food. He hasn’t bought any.

“Well, I don’t think I’m going to be making any more money this morning. I had a good day yesterday.”

“I’ll see you later, Mo. Stella will be bringing pumpkin tarts.”

“I’ll give mine to Chester. I can’t stand pumpkin. I don’t mind the seeds, but that’s all.”

Later, at 10:00, I went to the park. Stella and her husband Tim were there. Stella loves to walk Weasel’s dog, Blackie. She’s known him since he was a pup — at that time he was owned by Andre (a different Andre), who has since passed away. Stella had brought pumpkin tarts, with whipped cream, for everybody. She also brought me a package of photos and a photocopy of a newspaper article entitled, ‘Street Sister.’

Joy said, “Jenna, my worker, is meeting me here to take me to my Elizabeth Fry appointment.” She poured some wine in her water bottle, added water and placed it in her bag. “Jake,” she said, “can you roll me a joint?”

Jenna arrived and said hello to the people she knew. Andre asked, “We’re meeting tomorrow, right? You’re coming here?”

“That’s right Andre.”

Joy asked, “How many busses do we have to take, and how far do we have to walk?”

“We can just walk down to Metcalfe and take an 85. That will take us right there.”

Joy asked, “Can you just wait until I finish this joint? Then I’ll be ready to go.”

“Sure, we have time.”

Joy hoisted her heavy backpack onto her shoulders and they walked down the sidewalk towards the bus stop.

I said hello to everybody I knew. Shakes introduced me to Weldon.

He said, “So, you’re Dennis the Menace! I’m Downtown Charlie Brown. I’ve been on the street for the past few days. Before that I was in a recovery program. I’m native Algonquin. I was born, on the Madawaska River, near Algonquin Park. I have a deep history. My grandfather was a guide for the Group of Seven, from 1920 to 1933, when they painted in the park. Phil Fontaine is my uncle. He served three terms as National Chief of the Assembly of First Nations. I’m also related to James  Wallenda, President of the Odawa Native Friendship Center. My father is a millionaire, but he wont even answer the phone to me. He wont give me fifty bucks; won’t even give the price for a bottle. My sister is the same, she has a great big house; I sleep on the street. She says, ‘You got yourself this way, you get yourself out.'”

I said, “I’m really interested in learning about native culture. Is the Odawa Center a good place to go?”

“The best place is the Aboriginal Drop-In Center, at 510 Rideau. Every Wednesday the native women host a meal, storytelling, chanting and drumming. You’ll get to see Shakes dance, sing and play guitar.”

“Shakes,” I said. “I didn’t know you sang and played guitar.”

Weldon said, “Shakes and I used to sing in the park, He taught me some boxcar Willie and other blues songs.”

Boxcar’s my home, railroad my friend
It’s been that way since I don’t know when
I’m here today, tomorrow I’m gone
Where I hang my hat is where I call home

Stars at night my roof over head
The ground below where I make my bed
Horizons you see, well that is my walls
When the sun comes up my hobo blood calls.

“I love Boxcar Willie, and all the old blues singers.” I said.

Weldon said, “When I think of native culture I get so angry. In school the nuns forced us to speak English. They called what we spoke, ‘the devil’s language’. If we were ever caught speaking Algonquin or any other native language we would be beaten with the edge of a ruler or a leather strap. Can you imagine if something like that happened today, especially to the children of white people. The nuns would be arrested.

“All this land we’re on was given to the Algonquin by treaty, even the land where the Parliament buildings stand. The government decided that it was a good military site, so they just took it. The Rideau canal was built mostly with native labor. They were paid starvation wages, most of them had families to feed, so they’d feed their families first. Many were worked to death. There isn’t even a plaque to commemorate the natives who died.

“Most native people would rather sleep outside, than in one of the shelters. Last night the guy in the bunk on my right kept saying, ‘six, six, six, six, six…’ all night long. He never stopped. The guy on my left was a crackhead. Every twenty minutes he’d get up and walk around. I didn’t trust him, so I was trying to sleep with one eye open. Whenever he got up, or went back to bed, I woke up.”