Kids Take Trips Around the World with Carole P Roman

 “It’s awe-inspiring when a book offers young readers a sense of purpose and encourages them that they too can determine their own destinies with hard work and perseverance.”– The Children’s Book Review

Carole P. Roman is the award-winning author of over fifty children’s books. Whether it’s pirates, princesses, or discovering the world around us, her books have enchanted educators, parents, and her diverse audience of children. She hosts two blog radio programs and is one of the founders of a new magazine, Indie Author’s Monthly. She’s been interviewed twice by Forbes Magazine.

Carole has co-authored a self-help book, Navigating Indieworld: A Beginners Guide to Self-Publishing and Marketing. Oh Susannah is her first Early Reader Chapter book series. She lives on Long Island near her children and grandchildren.

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More reviews:

“The whimsical, pastel art work adds to the light, girlish mom-daughter bonding feels. This would make a great bedtime story read-aloud.”  Rainy Days Mom Days

“Excellent addition to your history study, to help your student really get a grasp for what it would be like if they actually lived there during this time period.  Great spring boards for additional study as well.” – A Year of Jubilee Reviews

“Starting kids off with a healthy perspective of other cultures and people is what helps create peace. This book provides that perspective.” – Bruce Arrington for Readers’ Favorite (5-Star Review)

“It’s a very breezy book, with just a fact or two per page, which will be easy for many kids to absorb. The engaging tone keeps the educational aspects from feeling dry or boring. The book series has a simple but effective premise: it teaches kids the basics of another culture in a way that connects it to their own personal lives…Roman has written another winner…” – Kirkus Review

“Roman draws the reader in from the first page with illustrations that are cheerful and clever.”– Kirkus Review

“She foregoes the often-used technique of rhyming text in favor of a more natural, conversational tone that effectively captures the spirit of a child’s imagination and daily play.”– Foreword Review

Carole P Roman

Find & follow Carole here:


Post #17 of the holiday blogroll for participants in Indie Authors Monthly.

“Bulwark” Brings Spine-Tingling Horror

“Brit Lunden’s paranormal fantasy novella, Bulwark, is genuinely eerie and spooky, filled with the kinds of scary effects that true lovers of the dark crave and rarely find. There are no gushes of blood or other cheap special effects, just a consistently good pulse-pounding story about an ancient evil and the one man who stands up against it. Readers who grew up with the likes of Barker, King and Lovecraft will have a field day reading this classy, dark fantasy novella. And, yes, it’s that good. Lunden’s plot is first-rate and her writing is smooth, assured and polished to a high sheen. Bulwark is most highly recommended.” – Jack Magnus for Readers’ Favorite (5-Star Review)

Brit Lunden’ novella, Bulwark, takes you down the dark path of spine-tingling horror. The eerie suspense will keep you turning the pages!

Keep scrolling for a description, excerpt, and more.

Bulwark by Brit Lunden

ISBN-10: 1-947188-27-5
ISBN-13: 978-1-947188-27-3


Clay Finnes is the sheriff of a small town in Georgia called Bulwark. Recently separated from his wife, all he can think about is what went wrong, and will Jenna ever come back to him. He’s troubled by a bothersome reporter trying to build a story from what he thinks is a normal day in his life. Clay has to admit that the fantastical stories, told by an accident victim as well as unusual sightings of wolves, things are getting a bit strange. A visit to the ominous Gingerbread House makes him realize that his life as he knows it will never be the same.

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Excerpt:

Chapter 1 – Primordial Soup

“It’s like a primordial soup,” Clay Finnes muttered his hands on his hips.

“A primordial what?” Owen Bishop raised his hangdog face to look at the town sheriff.

“Primordial, ancient, prehistoric…” Clay looked at the deputy’s blank face and finished with, “old…really, really old.”

“Oh,” Owen shook his craggy head. His bulbous eyes looked like two hard boiled eggs; his hair was matted as if was glued to the top of his round head. Owen never passed any of the tests allowing him to advance on the force. He was a deputy when Clay first got a job in Bulwark right out of the army. As the promotions started coming, Clay eventually became his boss. He wondered if it bothered the older man taking direction from someone who trained under him.

“You mean like dinosaurs?” Owen scratched his head.

“Dino… no… forget it, Owen. What else did the couple say?” He listened to Owen drone on about the car that was now sitting in the middle of the greenish pond.

“Appears they were coming from the other side.” Owen pointed vaguely in the other direction.

“How could they? There’s nothing there. That road has been closed off for years.”

Something was missing. He wasn’t sure what, but a feeling of unease enveloped Clay until his body fairly vibrated with it.

Clay looked up, his deep brown eyes scanning the thicket of trees surrounding the strange body of water that seemed to appear overnight. He crinkled his nose; it smelled pretty bad too. It was a greenish color, like a dirty army fatigue. It seemed shallow. He resisted the urge to stick the toe of his boot in the water. It was still, the surface like polished glass. The Ford Fusion was trapped in the what appeared to be the deepest part of the puddle as if they had tried to speed through it. The brackish water about two feet deep.

“If they had skirted the edges they would have made it through. He shoulda used the choke, probably got an entire engine full of water.” Once Owen started talking he could go on about something forever.

“Where the hell were they coming from?” Clay muttered to himself. He moved away as if to see through the gloom. “It’s a road that leads to nowhere.”

He took off his hat, wiping his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. It was hotter than usual. No breeze ruffled the leafy trees or relieved the stifling humidity that made his shirt stick to his back.

There was nothing, no sound, not the humming of bees, or mosquitoes. Not a bird in sight or the croaking music of frogs in the late afternoon. When he got home, he’d mention it to Jenna…his wandering thoughts came to an abrupt halt. There would be no conversation. Jenna wasn’t there anymore. His family’s old farm house only had one occupant now. His wife had up and left him. He felt his chest tighten, his throat closing up. His entire life changed and would never be the same. Losing Claire was just the beginning of the end. After that had happened, it was as though they were stuck in some nightmare and couldn’t get out.

“Well,” Owen continued, oblivious to his boss’s distracted air. “The car hit the…um…water, at a high rate of speed, I think. It must’ve started to sink.”

“It’s not deep enough to sink,” Clay observed his deputy scratch his bald head, then turned to look at the enormous puddle. It covered the road from one end to the other. He chewed the inside of his cheek. He had to admit, it appeared larger than when he got here, but it couldn’t be that deep, could it?” Clay forced his attention back to Owen. It helped him stop thinking of his own life. “Where are they?”

“Over at JB’s house. The wives pretty freaked out.”

“JB?” Clay liked the old football pro, had shared quite a few stories with the old vet.

“Over what. The puddle?” The interruption was from Dayna Dalton, a reporter from the Bulwark Advance. She was walking toward them, a camera hung around her exposed neck, a spiral notebook clasped in the other. “Think somebody dropped a load of waste here.”

Clay looked at her, his cheek twitched. Her buttons strained to the point that she looked like her clothes had been painted on her body. She shook her mane of red hair like an angry mare. He turned his gaze away, knowing it annoyed her. No matter how much she pranced around in her tight jeans, he wasn’t interested. She didn’t do anything for him in high school, and she didn’t do anything for him now. Somehow, it never stopped her from trying to get him to notice her. Clay was tired of it. He sighed gustily.

She came around the back of the car, moving into his personal space. For a minute, Clay thought about backing up, but damn it all, he was the sheriff. He stood his ground, daydreaming of Dayna’s reaction when he threw her into the stinky, green lake that had developed overnight.

Dayna repeated her comment about someone dropping waste. Clay shrugged indifferently, then turned to Owen, ignoring her.

He could feel her bristling but refused to move. He dug his feet in the dark soil, his arms folded over his chest. “JB see anything? Maybe notice something out of place?”

Owen shook his head. “Nope. Nada. I asked. Been quiet. He said this started small. Says he has a few pictures on his laptop he can send us.” Owen paused and then said, “Wait, he mentioned they had a wolf problem lately.”

Clay looked at Owen sharply. “Wolves, there haven’t been…hey!”

He saw Dayna take off, her feet moving quickly toward a thicket of trees.

“Dayna!” Clay called, who was dashing up a small incline toward JB Straton’s small cabin over the ridge.

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About the author

Brit Lunden is also known as prolific children’s author, Carole P. Roman. She has published over fifty books.

Whether it’s pirates, princesses, or discovering the world around us, her books have enchanted educators, parents, and her diverse audience of children. She hosts two blog radio programs and is one of the founders of a new magazine, Indie Author’s Monthly. She’s been interviewed twice by Forbes Magazine. Carole has co-authored a self-help book, Navigating Indieworld: A Beginners Guide to Self-Publishing and Marketing.

Bulwark is her first book of adult fiction.

Brit Lunden.jpg

Find & follow Brit (Carole) here:


Post #6 of the holiday blogroll for participants in Indie Authors Monthly.