Thank you to the Love Indie Romance group for having me on. Lots of hugs and love to you all!! When writing a short bio for myself I was thing what would you want to know? First thing I thought of was my moniker: The Genre Minx. I created this name for myself because it is a tongue in cheek explanation that I “get around with genres.” I did not want to be a book reviewing blog that was defined by any one genre because I love to read multiple genres. Plus, I thought that it was an interesting name that would grab people’s attention hence The Genre Minx Book Reviews was born.
Why did I start reviewing books? I am a stay at home mother and a bibliophile, can’t help it, I love books. I decided to start reviewing books to carve out that little space in my life that is just for me. I am a firm believer that women, especially stay at home moms, should always have something that they have for themselves because otherwise they can get lost and try to define themselves only through their marriage or through their children. Then what happens if the marriage ends? What happens when the children go on to lead their adult lives? The woman is left with nothing to define her and becomes lost. It could also be that way for a man but I am chick….so you get a feminine view point 😉.
So, I review books for me and for those interested in what the books I read are about. To help keep me tethered to something that makes me feel like I accomplish goals and I am doing something just for me 😁. I also get to connect with amazing authors, readers, and grow in ways that I never expected. When I write reviews, I try to consider what another reader would be looking to know about the book. I try and point to its strengths and, if any, weaknesses but while not being negative or destructive. I just love it! I am not trying to be the most popular blogger out there (but I won’t say no that either, lol) because honestly, I don’t have more time than I already give. For now, to me, being successful is finding the time to read a book and write a decent review. That is how I am defining success in my crazy, beautiful, blessed adventure that I call my life. Thanks for reading!
Here’s an excerpt from one of Amy’s favourite indie books, Semi-Sane by Isabel Jordan.
Violet couldn’t remember ever feeling anything like this.
She couldn’t touch enough of him at once. Her hands slid greedily up his arms, over his shoulders, up through his hair, and back down again.
Nikolai seemed to be having the same problem when it came to touching her. His hands moved over her like it was his job to make her come with nothing more than his mouth on hers and his hands on her body.
And he apparently loved his job.
She let out a shocked gasp, quickly followed by a long, embarrassing groan of pleasure, when he grabbed her hips and pulled her into his body so tightly she felt the hard evidence of just how much he loved his job pressed into her stomach.
The wave of need that hit her was so unexpected she fell into him, knocking them off-balance. Nikolai braced his legs to catch them both, all the while never losing his grip on her. He did it so easily, as if she weighed nothing at all.
He pounded his fist against the door with frustration. “Lexie, let me in,” he growled for the hundredth time. There was nothing from the other side of the door. No words or screams that had come out of her like a volcano in the ring. The words that had worked him worse than any opponent had in any ring around the country. They impacted more effectively than any left hook by any angry fighter. They also gave him hope. Anger and hurt drenched her tiny frame, but something else did too. He didn’t miss the way her small hand had cupped his jaw so tenderly and the last words she’d said to him before she’d run. “The world at my feet meant nothing without you by my side.” Those words were the knockout. They had frozen him in place long enough for Lexie to lock herself in the changing rooms of the gym. And because he’d banished everyone from the premises, he couldn’t even find a fucking key. He rested his head against the steel door. “Baby, please,” he called through the metal. He would have shot the fucking thing open if he thought there was any danger of her running outside. This gym was in a fucking dodgy neighborhood. It had shocked the shit out of him when they’d pulled up. It pissed him the fuck off, too. The fact that Lexie frequented neighborhoods like this when a murderous stalker was after her?
I was born in Uzbekistan. When I was three years old me and my family moved to Germany (we lived in Bonn, it’s a small town near Cologne) and lived there for eleven years. I went to a Russian school which was one of the two Russian schools in the whole country (the second one is in Berlin).
In the year 2011 we moved to Kazakhstan where I live now. I finished school here. Now I am a student at a Russian university and a technical translator for my father’s IT firm.
Right now I’m working on my second book and a few other projects I’m thinking about doing. In the past few months I’ve also become an avid reader, I do reviews on indie books on my blog, I also started a youtube channel recently.
I’m also a gamer, I play Dota 2, among other games, and I’m a hobby photographer.
Most of the night I stay silent and just watch them talk. It’s as if they’re long lost friends. Overall the night turned out not as bad as I thought, I even enjoyed most of it. And when it’s really late and everyone is sleepy and tired, dad actually asks Dean to stay until tomorrow, offering the guest room.
“Are you sure? You don’t have to…” Write starts, but my father cuts him off. Wow, this really is a different man. Who are you and what have you done to my daddy?
“But I insist.” And with this sentence Write is obliged to stay. “Milly will show you everything, thank you for this wonderful evening, too sad that I’m too old to stay up for much longer. Good night.”
When he’s gone, we stand awkwardly in silence for a few moments. I clear my throat.
“Would you like to go to sleep now? Or can I get you anything else? Something to drink?”
“A glass of water would be nice.” He gives me the warmest look ever.
“Then please, follow me to the kitchen.” I say as I collect the dishes.
I feel myself tense with every passing second. While he is drinking his water, I start washing the dishes.
“Can I help?” He asks when I am on my second plate.
“You can dry them if you want.” He nods. I point at a towel hanging nearby. “You can use that towel over there.”
And so we stay silent for a few more moments, cleaning up in the kitchen. I don’t relax, on the contrary, I feel like I’m going to turn to stone completely at some point. It’s one thing being with him at work, but having him here? Seeing him like this? It’s just too much and I remember our weekend. It hurts.
“Millicent.” He says, voice soft and quiet. “I know I shouldn’t be saying this, I promised myself I wouldn’t, but we need to talk about what happened in New York.”