Jessilyn Stewart Peaslee and Cedar Fort Publishing & Media are pleased to announce the “Finding Beauty in the Beast” blog tour, which will run from January 16-30th, 2018.
About the book:
Corbin’s simple rose was supposed to drive the princess away. He never wanted her to choose his gift—or him. After all, no one would choose to marry a beast. With her fiery temper, though, Princess Rose isn’t so perfect herself. Corbin and Rose might be stuck living with each other, but no one can force them to fall in love.
About the author:
Jessilyn Stewart Peaslee was born the fourth of seven children into a family of avid readers, music lovers, movie quoters, and sports fans. Jessilyn graduated from Brigham Young University with a BA in English. She loves going on dates with her husband and playing with her five adorable, rambunctious boys. Jessilyn grew up in the beautiful high desert of Southern California and now resides in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains. As you read this, she is probably folding laundry . . . or should be. Current Residence: Saratoga Springs, UT
“Finding Beauty in the Beast” Blog Tour Schedule
Jan 16 | |
Jan 17 | My Love for Reading Keeps Growing |
Jan 17 | Blooming with Books |
Jan 17 | Reading for Sanity |
Jan 18 | Katie’s Clean Book Collection |
Jan 19 | Kindle and Me |
Jan 20 | Making Life a Bliss Complete |
Jan21 | |
Jan 22 | Mel’s Shelves |
Jan 22 | Literary Time Out |
Jan 23 | Geo Librarian |
Jan 24 | |
Jan 25 | Life is What it’s Called |
Jan 26 | |
Jan 27 | |
Jan 28 | |
Jan 29 | My Book a Day |
Jan 29 | Bookworm Lisa |
Jan 29 | One Day at a Time |
Jan 30 | Aimee Brown |
Jan 30 | Bookworm 2 Bookworm |
Excerpt:
“A beast. That was what they called her.
When she was in a good temper, Princess Rose’s face was deceptively sweet, even beautiful. Her large emerald eyes could appear tender, her rosebud lips touched with softness. There was a time, some would say, that her voice was warm and full of life and, though no one believed it, that she used to laugh.
But today, there was no hint of softness, no trace of tenderness. Her eyes blazed like green fire and she pursed her lips until they became indistinguishable from her pale skin. The freckles she painstakingly tried to hide glared angrily across her nose and cheeks—cheeks deep crimson from humiliation. No tears would escape her eyes, no quivering would touch her lips. She sat—cold and aloof—her gaze fixed straight ahead, glaring at the opposite wall of the swaying carriage.”