Quote of the Day

Quote of the Day:
“Nothing remains idle and thrives. Life needs a moving force to prevent the devastating effects of stagnancy. That is why life employs change.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Slaying Dragons: Quotes, Poems, & a Few Short Stories for Every Day of the Year

Saturday, March 4, 2017

Sneak Peek—Little Gracie Gubler

I asked my followers on Facebook, Twitter, and my author website for name suggestions, explaining that I had an idea for a short story about a confident, young, school-age girl. I intend to include the story in a book I'm putting together for my son's graduation.  This book will be his gift from me with the promise that half of all royalties go to him to help ease the overwhelming cost of a college education.  I received some wonderful name suggestions including the following:  

Sadie, Hannah, Lucy, Deniz, Tina, Evie, Gracie, Madeline, Scarlet, Hope, Kathryn, and Kimberly.  From the suggestions, I chose Gracie and gave her the full name of Gracie Gubler.

I would like to share this short story with you now and hopefully wet your whistle, so to speak, for other short stories, poetry, and quotes to come in Slaying Dragons: Quotes, Poems, & a Few Short Stories for Every Day of the Year, to be released this June.  Watch for a preordering option soon.

Enjoy!


Little Gracie Gubler was eight.  She was a striking sight with her lava-red hair that hung as curly as a piglet’s tail and the sprinkling of cinnamon freckles on her nose and cheeks and fingers and toes.  When she stood in place, it was with both feet apart, hands on her hips, shoulders square, chin high, lips grinning as if she were the most remarkable child in a school where nearly every other student towered over her.  The truth is, Gracie’s confidence and pluck overflowed, more than most.  And it happened that these qualities—made manifest in her demeanor and countenance—were hard not to stare at. 
Now, this freckle-faced sprightly child had been born with a small frame and small ears that were somehow well-tuned to surrounding chit-chat.  And Gracie Gubler had no qualms about joining in on a transpiring conversation if the topic proved of interest to her.  In fact, she did so quite often.  On one tulip-blooming spring day she happened to overhear Jeffrey Turner and Dylan Ewing gossiping about Mr. Quilter’s bald head—a head that had been covered with blond fuzz just a week ago.  It was the last time they had seen their math teacher until he walked into school that morning without his hair.  Jeffrey and Dylan were discussing Mr. Quilter as if they were piecing together a puzzle that would reveal the whole story; never mind if there existed any amount of truth to it. 
“I heard that he was away on family business.”
“That’s what adults call it when it’s serious.”
“Yeah, like when someone dies.”
“Or when they’re going to die….like from a disease.”
“Like cancer.”
“Yeah.  You know, they shave your head bald if you get cancer.”
“No they don’t; your hair falls out on its own.  That’s what cancer does.  That’s how they know you have it.”
“Well, it amounts to the same thing.”
“Not really.”
“Yeah, really.  And either way your head ends out bald, just like Mr. Quilter.”
“Poor guy’s probably real sick.  No wonder he needed a week off.” 
“Yeah.  I bet he doesn’t even know that when your hair falls out it’s the worst kind of cancer.  He’ll probably be dead in another week.”
“Or sooner.”  The boys sighed a dismal sigh in concert.  About that time, Gracie Gubler joined in their conversation.
“Do you two know what you’re talking about?” she asked.  “Did Mr. Quilter tell you he was sick?”
Dylan and Jeffrey exchanged a guarded glance before answering.  “Well, no, not exactly, but he didn’t have to say anything.  He missed a week of school and came back with no hair…”
“And he’s acting really tired.  It’s obvious he’s seriously sick.”
“Yeah, and only cancer takes all your hair that fast.”
Gracie pursed her lips together and placed both hands on her hips before swiveling about and marching directly to the school’s math room.  There she found Mr. Quilter sitting at his desk, his bald head lowered into his hands.  He did look tired.  The classroom was empty; all the kids were outside on the playground. 
Gracie interrupted the math teacher by clearing her voice.  When he looked up, she asked him a simple question.
“Mr. Quilter, why is your head bald?”
After flashing a humored smile, he proceeded to explain how he had flown home to attend the funeral of his grandfather the prior week, and during that time he had been invited to play on his brother’s basketball team.  Mr. Quilter had eagerly agreed, being tall and athletic and quite fond of the game.  He had been less eager to agree to shaving his head in order to look like the other team players who took great pride in reflecting through appearances their team name—the Bald Eagles.  However, a little guilt-ridden convincing by his brother had done the trick.  Mr. Quilter flashed a wry smile as he rubbed his head and told Gracie, “It does make for faster showers in the morning.”
Little Gracie told her math teacher that she thought he looked fine with a bald head.  Then she marched outside to report the truth to Jeffrey and Dylan who had already convinced a dozen surrounding children that they would soon be getting a new math teacher.  Gracie stated that it was not so.
Later that day, outside the local grocery store where a troop of girl scouts was selling mint crèmes and coconut clusters and chunky chocolate cookies, Gracie was exiting the store behind her mother who stopped to purchase three boxes of mint crèmes, supporting the troop that her friend, Karin Summers, happened to direct as a parent volunteer.  Both adults watched a neighbor lady, Miss Tyra Darling, walk out of the store carrying a case of beer in either hand.  They began to talk in loud whispers, easily overheard by curious, young ears.
“That’s four cases this week.  I saw Tyra purchase two cases a couple days ago.”
“Really?  I say, that’s an awful lot of beer for a single woman who lives alone.”
“She’s got an obvious drinking problem.  Beverly, who lives right next door to Tyra, told me no one ever comes over to that lonely house.  Tyra never throws any parties or anything.  Not that Beverly wants any loud, drunken partiers carrying on next door.”
“No, no, I’m sure she doesn’t want that.  She would have to call the cops on something like that.”
“The woman is just a serious alcoholic.  No doubt she’ll die from a bad liver—young and miserably alone.”
“What a tragedy.  I don’t understand why people do stuff like that to themselves.”
During this conversation, every girl scout from Hannah Pepper to Hallie Nogues had their ears perked, listening.  Gracie Gubler, alone, spun about and marched toward the silver sedan in which Tyra Darling had deposited her two cases of beer.  The woman was just opening the driver’s seat door when a chipper “excuse me” stopped her.  Gracie went to stand directly under Tyra’s nose and looked up to ask a simple question. 
“Miss Darling, are you going to drink all of those beers yourself?”
The shocked recipient of the question put a hand to her heart, and her cheeks flushed red.  She laughed at the thought.  “Oh dear, dear, no, no!”  She then leaned forward and explained to little Gracie that her hobby and passion was gardening.  Every spring and summer she tended to a half an acre of garden behind her house which included rare flowers mixed with all sorts of herbs, fruits, and vegetables.  The beer was used as bait in homemade bowl-traps that effectively lured and killed slugs, snails, and earwigs.  She also sprayed the trees and bushes with beer because it attracted the most beautiful butterflies to her garden.  Tyra laughed again and skewed her eyebrows.  “I don’t even like the taste of beer,” she said.  “But I will admit, I do mix up a pretty good beer batter when I’m in the mood for a fish fry.” 
After accepting Miss Darling’s invitation to drop by at a later date and visit the beer-fertilized garden, Little Gracie Gubler marched back to report the truth to her mother and Karin (as well as the eavesdropping girl scouts.)  The adults stared silently at Gracie for a few stunned moments. 
“Huh, that’s good to know.”
“Yeah.  I wonder if I could get her beer batter recipe.”
The next day at school, freckle-faced Gracie was in the library checking out a fairytale storybook about Dimearians—people born with moth-type wings on their backs.  She cocked an ear when she overheard Russ Montgomery whispering (partly because he was in a library and partly because he was gossiping) about LeiAnn Jones, a new girl from Wisconsin who had joined their class two weeks prior.  She had proven to be a quiet sort and had checked out five thick books after receiving special permission from the librarian.
“She’s a snot, I tell you.  Thinks she’s smarter and better than the rest of us.  I bet she doesn’t even read those books.  Just showing off, hoping the rest of us will think Wisconsin grows brainiacs like it grows cheese.”
“I’m pretty sure they don’t grow cheese…” someone started to say.
“You know what I mean.  That LeiAnn girl is so big-headed, she won’t even say ‘how d’ya do’ to anyone.  Has she talked to you?  ‘Cause she hasn’t said one word to me.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Nope.”
“Not one word.”
“And have you said one word to her?” 
The question took the other kids by surprise, in part because it was voiced louder than appropriate for a library setting, but mostly because the speaker had not been included in the conversation.  Gracie Gubler ran her probing eyes over every kid huddled about the reading table.  Then she turned and headed to a corner of the library where LeiAnn Jones was sitting by herself with a pile of books on her lap.  She had one cracked open hiding her face.  It took LeiAnn a moment to lower the book when she heard someone address her by name.  As soon as Gracie could see the blue of LeiAnn’s eyes, she asked a simple question.
“Why don’t you join the rest of the class at the reading table?”
LeiAnn glanced in the direction of the other kids who were staring with tight eyes at Gracie’s back.  The new girl swallowed hard, and then timidly explained that she felt uncomfortable.  No one had invited her to sit with the others, and she didn’t want to assume they would welcome her.  Shrugging it off, she told the inquisitive red-head that she was fine—“I have my books.”  LeiAnn then confessed, “I’m not very good at making new friends.”
After chatting with LeiAnn Jones, finding that they had a common love for fantasy books, Gracie marched back to the reading table to report the truth to Russ Montgomery and the other children, after which a few of them decided to go introduce themselves to the new girl.
And so it was with Gracie.  Whenever she heard someone speak a word of assuming gossip, she was quick to learn and share the truth.  Thus, Bobby Black learned that he had not been callously dumped by Darin Caraway as a best friend; the birthday invitation had been mailed by his mother to the wrong address.   Elizabeth Bifano learned that Kimmy Jackson did in fact adore her daisy-yellow dress, even though Kimmy’s least favorite color in the world was yellow.  Madelyn Jenks learned that their school teacher did not own a jar where he kept the names of bad students he meant to feed to the alligators at the end of the school year.  And Mindi Bergeson learned that Scarlet Elliott’s unfortunate case of acne was not the result of kissing frogs in the pond on the Elliot’s farm.  Therefore, when anyone saw the little freckle-faced redhead marching near, they would check their conversation—because if their comments weren’t the verified truth, it was foolish business to gossip in front of Gracie Gubler.

​Copyright 2017 Richelle E. Goodrich



Friday, February 10, 2017

Loving You, Valentine

In the spirit of Valentine's Day I've put together my own written collection on LOVE.  
I hope you enjoy.





"Because," said a boy.
"Because why?" asked a young girl.
"Because I love you."
— Richelle E. Goodrich (Making Wishes: Quotes, Thoughts, & a Little Poetry for Every Day of the Year)

"You are the one star I wish upon nightly, praying your glory will fall from the heavens and land in my undeserving arms."  — Richelle E. Goodrich (Smile Anyway: Quotes, Verse, & Grumblings for Every Day of the Year)

"Though I love you to the core of my being, so thoroughly that every cell comprising me aches to be near you, I must accept that we can never be together. For our existence parallels the sun and the moon—a temptation in constant, beautiful view, yet if the sun were ever to kiss the moon it would devour the heavenly orb whole. Oh, my darling, if only I were the moon! Then I would dare taste your lips and be happy for my last and final joy! But alas, I am the sun, and I will not venture to destroy the one I love." — Richelle E. Goodrich (Making Wishes: Quotes, Thoughts, & a Little Poetry for Every Day of the Year) 

"True love takes time. It’s an earned comfort that tells you she’ll be right there beside you no matter what you do, not necessarily happy with your every action, but faithful to you just the same."  — Richelle E. Goodrich (Eena, The Return of a Queen (The Harrowbethian Saga #2))

"I'm not saying that I think one man is better than the other. I'm not saying that either is kinder or wiser or more ambitious, more thoughtful, confident, or able. But the fact is that when I'm with the one, comfort settles into my bones. I feel calm around him, as if the sun is smiling down on me and the world has suddenly become a sweet, safe place to be. I feel good about life―about myself. And it's hard not to want to be near someone who, just by their very nature, makes you feel that way."  — Richelle E. Goodrich (Smile Anyway: Quotes, Verse, & Grumblings for Every Day of the Year) 

"Be loved for who you are, for everything that constitutes you. Be loved for your core beliefs, your strengths and weaknesses, your admirable traits and troublesome baggage. Be loved for you, because anything less is not love at all."  — Richelle E. Goodrich (Making Wishes: Quotes, Thoughts, & a Little Poetry for Every Day of the Year)

"I love you sounds best spoken in quiet acts of kindness." — Richelle E. Goodrich (Slaying Dragons: Quotes, Poetry, & a Few Short Stories for Every Day of the Year)

 "I had the most beautiful dream, and then I fell asleep in your arms and my dream turned lovelier still."  — Richelle E. Goodrich (Smile Anyway: Quotes, Verse, & Grumblings for Every Day of the Year)

"He was everything I needed because his entire character had been molded by my deepest wants and desires. He was my rock when I cried, my playmate when I laughed, and my hero when I needed to imagine that one existed for me." — Richelle E. Goodrich (Dandelions: The Disappearance of Annabelle Fancher) 

"Prove that you love me through a lingering gaze and never losing that twinkle of adoration in your eyes."  — Richelle E. Goodrich (Smile Anyway: Quotes, Verse, & Grumblings for Every Day of the Year)

"My love for you reaches beyond the borders of continents, so vast in scope that I would cross oceans to be with you." 
"Yes, but does that same love penetrate so deep as to dare thee to sink to the oceans' depths to find me?"
— Richelle E. Goodrich (My Aquarius) 

"To have a caring and committed heart toward someone—a heart so firm in its devotion as to sooner stop beating than neglect the object of its desire despite the person's state of health, appearance, reputation, finances, troubles, or challenges—that, dear world, is love. It is a rare find."  — Richelle E. Goodrich (Smile Anyway: Quotes, Verse, & Grumblings for Every Day of the Year)

"The most difficult challenge an honest man will ever face is having to choose between duty and love. One creates a man of honorable character―a life worth dying for. The other creates a vulnerable soul that madly yearns for either death or immortality."  — Richelle E. Goodrich (Eena, The Return of a Queen (The Harrowbethian Saga #2)) 

"Love is an afternoon of fishing when I'd sooner be at the ballet. Love is eating burnt toast and lumpy graving with a big smile. Love is hearing the words 'You're beautiful' as I fail to squeeze into my fat jeans. Love is refusing to bring up the past, even if doing so would be a slam dunk to prove your point. Love is your hand wiping away my tears, trying to erase streaks of mascara. Love is the warm hug that extinguishes an argument. Love is a humbly-uttered apology, even if not at fault. Love is easy to recognize but so hard to define; however, I think it boils down to this... Love is caring so much about the feelings of someone else, you sacrifice whatever it takes to help him or her feel better. In other words, love is my heart being sensitive to yours." — Richelle E. Goodrich (Making Wishes: Quotes, Thoughts, & a Little Poetry for Every Day of the Year) 

"Love is years of devotion, sacrifice, commitment, loyalty, trust, faith, and friendship all wrapped up in one. True love does more than cause your heart to flutter. It upholds your heart when the infatuation no longer makes it flutter."  — Richelle E. Goodrich (Eena, The Return of a Queen (The Harrowbethian Saga #2)) 

"When you love someone, you don’t care that she ate your sandwich.  You only hope she found it delicious." — Richelle E. Goodrich (Slaying Dragons: Quotes, Poetry, & a Few Short Stories for Every Day of the Year)

"True love is a developed and intense appreciation for someone. It’s that perfect awareness that you are finally whole when she’s with you, and that hollow incompleteness you suffer when she’s gone."  — Richelle E. Goodrich (Eena, The Return of a Queen (The Harrowbethian Saga #2))

 "I believe in love―a kind, selfless, unending devotion. I believe it is rare." — Richelle E. Goodrich (Smile Anyway: Quotes, Verse, & Grumblings for Every Day of the Year)

 "To the romantic soul, the rituals of Valentine's Day echo every day of the year." — Richelle E. Goodrich (Making Wishes: Quotes, Thoughts, & a Little Poetry for Every Day of the Year) 


Wednesday, January 25, 2017

Excerpt from Slaying Dragons

I'm currently working on another book of quotes, poetry, and short stories to be released this coming June, just in time for my second son's graduation. It will be his graduation gift. The book is titled, Slaying Dragons: Quotes, Poems, & a Few Short Stories for Every Day of the Year
 I thought I'd share a recently-written excerpt:

I used to play in the hot July wind and imagine it was dragon’s breath singeing my skin.  I would clamber up the hill behind our home as if I were a knight intent on hunting down and slaying the beast.  For I would try to rouse it by making a ruckus as loud and annoying as a lonely pup.  But no dragon responded to my verbal challenges, and I was never lucky enough to stumble upon any large, fire-breathing animal.  Not until the day I turned ten. 
That day was not unlike other hot and windy July afternoons when I scrambled up the green hill that blocked faraway scenery from the windows of our house.  And like every other time, I brandished my invisible sword, imagining it glistening in the sunlight, bejeweled at the hilt with priceless sapphires and rubies.  I swore aloud to slay the dragon whose hot breath was the source of the July winds—or so it seemed in a boy’s creative mind—and hustled with great energy and determination up the rocky terrain. 
I had climbed only partway when the toe of my shoe managed to lodge itself beneath the edge of a smooth, pearly rock.  I nearly fell over and would surely have dropped my treasured sword had it actually been made from physical substance.  But it remained in my hand and, finding my shoe unable to slide out from beneath the pale stone, I pretended to jab at it with the tip of my sword as if this poking attack would surely persuade whatever had taken such a fast hold to release me.  For a short period of time I entertained myself with fantasy heroics that pitted me against creatures of enormous girth, extraordinary strength, and fierce cunning.  However, this did nothing to free me.  As one might guess, a make-believe sword has little effect on genuine problems.  I soon grew anxious enough to reach for a real, solid stick in hopes of prying my foot loose.
To my great relief, the stick worked like magic and forced up the pearly rock.  To my great astonishment, I discovered that what had snagged my foot was no rock.  It had a peculiar shape; the unburied end tapered off to a sharp point.  But the fact that it rose in the air of its own accord proved most convincing. 
I staggered backwards, succumbing to greater degrees of shock with every inch this mysterious item rose off the ground.  I gasped aloud as it was joined by four near-identical ivory hooks.  It wasn’t until the sharp tips came together that it dawned on me what I was seeing.  The pale, pointed rocks were claws!  Five claws attached to crusty fingers that formed a fist larger than my pitiful, scrawny mass! 
I could feel my face drain of color standing there, wanting to flee, yet powerless to command my muscles to move.  White as a ghost, I watched the green, muddy hillside grow taller and taller while taking on a beastly form.  I cannot recall if I breathed at all during the time this thrilling phenomenon took place, but the creature extended its neck and breathed a waft of hot air down upon me as if conveying irritation at having had its nap disturbed. 
There I stood staring up at two glowing golden eyes, facing a magnificent dragon as real and alive as the hopeful, young knight at its feet.  My heart started with fright at what sounded like a boom of thunder, and I fell to the ground like a rag doll.  Under a sudden shadow, I realized the dragon’s wings had snapped open, mimicking a clap of thunder.  The air seemed to swoop up the beast in defiance of gravity, and it took my dragon far, far away while I watched, mouth agape.  I stared at the sky until no visible proof remained of what I had witnessed.  And though I told many a soul the truth of the matter, none believed me.
I have yet to cross paths again with that golden-eyed dragon, but you will find me still climbing hills where the winds blow hot.  With watchful eyes and a solid Terillian sword in my grip, I search for unusual rocks as white and smooth as pearls.

Copyright 2017 Richelle E. Goodrich



Saturday, December 31, 2016

Time Has Made Me Grateful

I was browsing through my old blog posts when I came across a post written four years ago at this same time of the holiday season.  I had just self-published my first book with help from a third party.  Feeling grateful, I had taken the time to make a list of the many small accomplishments experienced as a new Indie author.  

Today, I look back at those initial joys and realize they have been added upon day-by-day.  While I no longer use a third party to publish my books, I have gained tremendous knowledge over these four years enabling me to publish and illustrate my books as I see fit and at my own leisure.  My talent for writing and illustrating has improved noticeably as I have worked at revising grammar and the written delivery of my stories.  Looking back, comparing "then" and "now," I see I have much for which to be grateful.

Four years ago I noted that 40+ people had "liked" my most popular quote of 24 original quotes posted on Goodreads.com.  Today 237+ people have "liked" my most popular quote (followed closely by 234 likes on my second most popular) of 1,000 original quotes now posted on Goodreads.  

Four years ago I noted that 8+ people considered my writing good enough to call themselves a fan or follower.  Today, 149+ people follow me on goodreads.com


Four years ago I noted that I had 12+ followers on Twitter.  That number has jumped to 823+ Twitter followers as of today.

Four years ago I noted signing 45+ copies of my 1 published book.  Today I have 7 published books available in paperback, and I have signed copies in the hundreds.  (I no longer keep accurate track of the amount signed.)

Four years ago I penned this quote:  
"Remember this - the journey is part of the dream.  Whatever it is you're chasing, so long as you are actively moving in the right direction, the dream is coming true." 

This truth still stands.  I can see by greater numbers and improved talent and more, loyal followers that I am actively moving in the right direction.  My dream is slowly coming true.  

I feel immensely thankful for the opportunity to author books and poetry, to illustrate and then self-publish my works.  It is a wondrous blessing extended to all writers in this age.  Needless to say, I am looking forward with wide eyes, hoping for even greater accomplishments in 2017.  Thank you sincerely to all who have helped in every small way to support this humble American author.  

Happy New Year to all!







Thursday, December 29, 2016

Book Three is Out NOW!

The adventure intensifies...

Read the continuing tale of Queen Eena in this newly-released book three in the Harrowbethian Saga!

Eena, The Curse of Wanyaka Cave
By

Richelle E. Goodrich


in  PAPERBACK   or  E-BOOK    KINDLE    iTUNES
Experience greater peril, mystery, romance, adventure and hardship in this third volume of The Harrowbethian Saga.  Read the introductory chapters here!  



S
ynopsis:  
Captain Derian and his crew have successfully returned the young Queen Eena to her home in Harrowbeth. Gemdorin, their enemy of over a decade, has been defeated. The world awaits healing as peace once again settles over the land. Unfortunately for those closest to Eena, this much-deserved rest proves short-lived.

Deep within Lacsar Forest inside the black walls of Wanyaka Cave, a childhood ghost story has become reality. A more powerful and enduring enemy lures the young queen to where two immortal sisters await in confines, having been imprisoned there for generations. These evil sisters and their brother, along with a dragon forced to do their bidding, combine efforts to manipulate Eena into helping them accrue a means of escape. Though she tries to refuse her assistance, every move she makes only seems to worsen her predicament. She fears losing Derian's trust, Ian's friendship, and possibly someone's life.


Why is it we must
suffer the loss of something so dear
before we realize
what a treasure we had?

Why must the sun be darkened
before we feel
how genuinely impossible it is
to live without its warmth?

Why within the misery of absence
does love grow by such bounds?

Why must life be this way?

It is a strange existence
where such suffering
makes us far better people.
                                 ― Richelle E. Goodrich 

Recently Released!

Eena, The Curse of Wanyaka Cave has been released!  
This is the 3rd book in the Harrowbethian Saga for those waiting to continue the adventures of young Queen Eena.  


Let me do a little victory dance here for my personal writing accomplishment!  Woo-hoo!  

Okay, so you can find this great fantasy-romance-adventure in e-book form on Amazon.com and Smashwords.com. Look for the paperback version on Createspace.com!  And after you finish living the adventure, don't forget to leave kind reviews on Amazon, Goodreads, etc.  Thanks a bunch for supporting this American author!   



KINDLE    NOOK    KOBO    iTUNES

Captain Derian and his crew have successfully returned the young Queen Eena to her home in Harrowbeth. Gemdorin, their enemy of over a decade, has been defeated. The world awaits healing as peace once again settles over the land. Unfortunately for those closest to Eena, this much-deserved rest proves short-lived.


Deep within Lacsar Forest inside the black walls of Wanyaka Cave, a childhood ghost story has become reality. A more powerful and enduring enemy lures the young queen to where two immortal sisters await in confines, having been imprisoned there for generations. These evil sisters and their brother, along with a dragon forced to do their bidding, combine efforts to manipulate Eena into helping them accrue a means of escape. Though she tries to refuse her assistance, every move she makes only seems to worsen her predicament. She fears losing Derian's trust, Ian's friendship, and possibly someone's life. 



Saturday, November 26, 2016

Up to 20% Off Books!



Need a Christmas Gift for a reader? 
Take advantage of my book savings for a few more days!   
Use the eight-character codes below to save on
paperback versions of the following books at createspace.com

Eena, The Dawn and Rescue - K9CHS9BL   SAVE 5% off the cover price!

Secrets of a Noble Key Keeper - U2NNK6AE   SAVE 20% off the cover price!
Making Wishes - Y5MQE3DT   SAVE 15% off the cover price!
Smile Anyway - TZF7H4C3   SAVE 20% off the cover price!