Re – Release. La La Love. Katie Lewington. 

Thanks to those that published a few of these poems first (Anti Heroin Chic, Oddball magazine, Foxglove journal, A New Ulster, Jotters United zine, Collections of Poetry, and Prose: Love ) 

Note: The picture poetry started out as an idea, the #spreadthelove as a reaction to the recent attacks on Manchester, and London. A reminder to spread love, not hate. I shared these poems on my social media pages, which you may remember.

50% of the proceeds of this book will be going to charity. 

Pictures are from



Breaking Roman
Alexis James
(The Moran Family #3)
Publication date: June 27th 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

They call me Romeo.

I love romancing women, and I’m good at it.

Too bad it is all a ruse.

Roman, the youngest of the three Moran brothers, is the only one who has ever believed in true love. Too bad his one special person barely acknowledges his existence.

Sabrina Morris spends her days running the HR Department of The Moran Group, and her nights corralling her teenage daughter. She doesn’t have time for love. She’s heard the stories, but Roman is not at all what she expects him to be. His gentle nature catches her completely off-guard. She doesn’t expect to be attracted to him, and she certainly doesn’t expect him to be equally drawn to her. But can she see past his Romeo façade and allow the warm, loving man into her life?

Goodreads / Amazon


They call me Romeo. It’s not my given name, but that hardly matters.

I earned the moniker when I was a young little shit, maybe twelve. My friends and I were at the beach, like we were most every day during the summer, taking full advantage of the fact that we live near the water in Miami. We were cussing, simply because we thought it sounded cool (it didn’t), strutting around with fake bravado trying to impress all the girls we’ve known since kindergarten. My friend Raul dared me to talk to Missy Evers, the new girl who recently moved here from Idaho. An hour after that first chat with cutie-pie Missy, who by the way still rocks a bikini like nobody’s business, she was holding my hand. Two hours later my tongue was working hard to get into her mouth and I got my first feel of a female breast, even if it belonged to a relatively flat-chested twelve-year-old girl. That little make-out session happened strategically within eyesight of my group of boisterous friends, because at that age only two things matter: getting some action and making sure your friends know about it. And that’s all it took for the nickname to stick. Now, at the ripe old age of twenty-nine, it’s something I despise.

I was a halfway decent guy even back then, so most of my time with Missy was G-rated. When she finally took off with her giggling friends in tow, she was starry eyed, hanging on my every word. My dumb buddies, who knew nothing about who or what the Shakespearian Romeo was really like, pranced around like a bunch of idiots, harping, “Romeo got him some!” Groping a girl with a bunch of onlookers was considered “getting some.” How messed-up is it that?

In all the years that I’ve carried the stupid nickname around, I’ve served it well. Even my sweet mama calls me that, though in her eyes I’ll always be her baby boy. Honestly, I’m a hopeless romantic. I believe in love and all the great things that come with it. I believe in monogamous relationships, unlike my older brothers, who up until a few years ago made bed-hopping an Olympic event. That’s not to say I don’t do my own share of bed-hopping, but mine is more about the … research, part of my daily quest to find my ideal mate. I date frequently, constantly searching for the one woman who stands above all others. The one woman who I have an immediate connection with and see myself standing next to when we’re old and gray. When I date we have some laughs together; I charm and wine and dine. We flop around on the mattress a few times and by week two I’m usually bringing the lucky lady home for Sunday dinner with my entire family.

No one has ever lasted past Sunday dinner.

It’s not that my family isn’t welcoming, because they are. But Mama figured out years ago that in my hunt for Mrs. Right, first I’d have to spend my time with all the Miss Wrongs out there. She’s gracious and kind to whichever woman I bring home, giving me a knowing look at the end of the meal that silently says, “Oh hell no.” Well … without the swearing, but you get what I’m saying. My devout Catholic mother would never, ever swear.

In the past few years I’ve brought upwards of twenty different women home to meet my family. Some don’t last through the entire meal. Some make the grave mistake of seeing dollar signs. While my family’s empire is considerable, I down play it as much as possible. I do well, I make good money, have a cool car and a decent place to live. But I’m not the millionaire my oldest brother Cruz is or the numbers guy that my other brother Marco is. I’m the black sheep brother, different in every way from the other two arrogant dicks I happen to be related to. I enjoy getting my hands dirty, wearing ratty jeans, and romancing women. Cruz and Marco are both suit-wearing hotshots who ooze over-confidence and up until Cruz got hitched to Mia and Marco shackled himself to Amita, they were both serious players. Well, to be fair to my oldest brother, I’m only assuming he was a player before meeting Mia. It’s not like he ever shared any tawdry bedroom happenings with me. That’s cool and all and to each his own, but it’s not my style. I see no point bullshitting my way between a woman’s legs, especially when I can say a few nice things and treat them decently and still get the same result.

I suppose I’ve earned the damned nickname, but that sure as hell doesn’t mean I like it. I have a hard enough time keeping up with my two older brothers without that damn label being tossed around. Maybe I’m being over-sensitive; my actions don’t exactly discourage the name. I just don’t think anyone takes me seriously anymore and who knows, maybe I’ve done that to myself. Maybe I really am Romeo.

What my brothers don’t know is that this Romeo found his Juliet years ago, more than three to be exact. He met her simply by chance, one of those meant-to-be moments that has sadly turned out to be anything but. His Juliet is blind to his advances, businesslike and driven in everything she does. His Juliet is beautiful, ethereal, and totally and completely untouchable. So he continues to wine and dine, romance and sweet talk, all as a ruse to hide what’s really in his heart. It’s nothing more than a lame attempt to somehow figure out what makes Juliet tick and in doing so keeping all the unwanted family questions at bay.

Whether or not I am a true Romeo remains to be seen. What I do know is that I’ll be whomever I have to be to get to know the illusive Juliet.

Author Bio:

Alexis James lives on the beautiful Central California coast. When she’s not spending time with her hubby of almost 30 years or her amazing kids, you can find her tapping away on the computer. She loves reading, spending time with family, reading, camping, reading….and writing too! She enjoys a good date night, an inexpensive glass of wine, and any story that can make her smile and/or cry.

Alexis’s first novel, “Losing Faith”, was released in September 2014. Her second novel, “Loving Emma”, is a standalone, though it does feature some characters from “Losing Faith”.

She invites you to visit her author pages on Facebook and Goodreads, and her website: You can also follow her on Twitter (@alexisjames27) or you can email her at:

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter



Month in Review. June. 

​While my health has not exactly been stellar this month, the quality of writing I’ve been waking up to, and to have the fortune to read, and discover, has been a saving grace. 

Take a look at this talented lot.

Powerhouse publisher Ghost City Press continued its successful ’17 summer micro chapbook series.

BunburyPeeking Cat poetry, and Scrittura magazine released new issues.

So too did Escapism Literary Magazine Summer 2017, which has writing, and a wonderful collection of photography.

Paper and Ink zine celebrated four years. 

Dean Rhetoric had poetry, and photography, published on the Anti Heroin Chic website.

“If you have never drunkenly

talked to yourself

in the reflection of a dented toaster

and shaken it upside down

for the smallest of crumbs”


Also check out Poetic Interviews managed by @GodzillaKent which Dean was also a part of. 

Shout out to poets Marc D Brown, and Jess Mize. I recently discovered Jess Mize’s writing, and her prose is amazing! Her chapbook can be purchased at Finishing Line Press

@EVILMTN and Carmen E. Brady had their books published by 2fast2house

I read this PLANTSING: How I Wrote A Novella In 3 Days by Sara R. Turnquist at

an excellent guest post.

I have hosted Book Tours for Bewitching Book Tours, Authoright, Enchanted Book Promotions, Goddess Fish Promotions, and YA Bound Book Tours. 

I reviewed two young adult books that are must reads. The D. B. List and My Summer Job.

My opinions of these can be found at Huntley and Books 

Reviewed this month

All of my reviews can be found here

And my prompts too here

if this lot has inspired you to take up the pen!

This very blog hit a views milestone, as did its Facebook page. We hit a hundred likes 😁

New Sunday feature, The Sunday Spotlight, kicked off with poet Nick Trandahl.

My book La La Love was reviewed, and so was Put me Down, I’m Terrible. They ranged from a one star, to five, so at least nobody is trying to please me. 

My chapbook HERE COMES THE SUN: TRAVEL POETRY BY KATIE LEWINGTON was released, and has so far gotten four five star reviews. Of course, I’m dead pleased about this!

I’m working on The Blank Page, that will contain my own poetry, writer resources, prompts, and book recommendations. 

I am now the social media manager for the Unlost, and Unbroken, journals. Unlost Journal publishes a new found poem every Sunday. Maybe check them out sometime.

Look out for new features next month with Dean Rhetoric, Linda M. Crate, and Jess Mize. 

And opinions on titles from Pski’s Porch, and Jeanne Shannon’s poetry collection Summoning.

Is there anything you would like to see more of on this blog, or is there anything I really need to cut out? Have you found a new poetic gem, or book, you would like to share? 

Let me know in the comments.

Thanks for reading this, and for sticking around. 

Next Month


The Thirteenth Gate

Dominion Mysteries

Book Two

Kat Ross

Genre: Fantasy/mystery

Publisher: Acorn

Date of Publication: June 26, 2017

ISBN: 978-0-9972362-8-6

ASIN: B071RQ142S

Number of pages: 380

Word Count: 88k

Cover Artist: Damonza

Book Description:

Winter 1888. At an asylum in the English countryside, a man suspected of being Jack the Ripper kills an orderly and flees into the rain-soaked night. His distraught keepers summon the Lady Vivienne Cumberland—who’s interviewed their patient and isn’t sure he’s a man at all. An enigmatic woman who guards her own secrets closely, Lady Vivienne knows a creature from the underworld when she sees one. And he’s the most dangerous she’s ever encountered.

As Jack rampages through London, Lady Vivienne begins to suspect what he’s searching for. And if he finds it, the doors to purgatory will be thrown wide open…

Across the Atlantic, an archaeologist is brutally murdered after a Christmas Eve gala at the American Museum of Natural History. Certain peculiar aspects of the crime attract the interest of the Society for Psychical Research and its newest investigator, Harrison Fearing Pell. Is Dr. Sabelline’s death related to his recent dig in Alexandria? Or is the motive something darker?

As Harry uncovers troubling connections to a serial murder case she’d believed was definitively solved, two mysteries converge amid the grit and glamor of Gilded Age New York. Harry and Lady Vivienne must join forces to stop an ancient evil. The key is something called the Thirteenth Gate. But where is it? And more importantly, who will find it first?



The Greymoor
Lunatic Asylum made a grim impression even in daylight. It crouched at the end
of a long, treeless drive, barred windows gleaming beneath a peaked slate roof.
After her first interview with Dr. William Clarence, Lady Vivienne Cumberland
had taken a hard look at those bars. She’d strongly suggested to the asylum
superintendent that he move Dr. Clarence to a room with no window at all.

That had been
just over a month ago. Now, in the darkest hour of the night, with rain
coursing down the brick façade and thunder rattling the turrets, Greymoor
looked like something torn from the pages of a penny dreadful, hulking and
shadowed despite the lamps burning in every window. At the wrought-iron front
gate, a black brougham drew to a halt. Following a brief exchange with the
occupants, two officers from the Essex constabulary waved it through,
immediately ducking back into the shelter of a police wagon.

“I told them to
watch him,” Lady Cumberland muttered, yanking her gloves on. “To keep him
isolated from the staff and other patients. Clearly, they didn’t listen. The

Alec Lawrence
gripped the cane resting across his knees. He had been present at the
interview, had looked into Dr. Clarence’s eyes, a blue so pale they reminded
him of a Siberian dog. The memory unsettled him still, and he wasn’t a man who
was easily shaken.

“We don’t know
what happened yet,” he pointed out. “Superintendent Barrett can hardly be
faulted considering we withheld certain information. I rather doubt he would
have believed us anyway.”

scowled. “You may be right, but it was only a matter of time. I’ve known that
since the day Clarence was brought here. The S.P.R. made a very bad mistake
entrusting him to Greymoor.”

“We still don’t
know for sure—”

“Yes, we do. The
killings stopped, didn’t they?”

“That could be
for any number of reasons,” he said stubbornly.

“Including that
the creature who committed them is behind bars. Or was, at least.”

Alec Lawrence
buttoned his woolen greatcoat. This was not a new debate. “Perhaps. But there’s
not a scrap of hard evidence against him. Nothing but a single reference in a
report by some American girl and Clarence’s own odd demeanor. Had there been
more, he would have been locked up tight in Newgate Prison.”

Vivienne turned
her obsidian gaze on him. With her high cheekbones and full lips, she might
have been thirty, or a decade in either direction. Only Alec and a handful of
others knew better.

“That American
girl is Arthur Conan Doyle’s goddaughter and she seemed quite clever to me. It
wouldn’t have mattered anyway,” she added quietly. “Walls don’t hold Dr.
Clarence’s sort for long.”

“Look,” he said,
softening. “For what it’s worth, I think we did the right thing taking him off
the streets. I just….” He trailed off, unsure how he meant to finish the

“You don’t trust
my judgment anymore. Since Harper Dods.”

“That’s not even
remotely true. I simply think we need to keep open minds on the matter. The
signs aren’t there, Vivienne. I’m the first to admit Dr. Clarence is an odd
duck, perhaps worse. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t human.”

Vivienne arched
a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “And yet here we are, summoned by Sidgwick in the
middle of the night. I wonder if he’s regretting his decision?”

The note from
Henry Sidgwick, president of the Society for Psychical Research, had arrived in
the form of a small, bedraggled messenger boy pounding on Lady Vivienne’s front
door in St. James an hour before. It was both vague and ominous, citing an
“unfortunate incident” involving Dr. Clarence and urging all due haste to the

“I suppose we’ll
find out in a minute,” Alec said, turning his collar up. He swiped a hand
through chestnut hair and jammed a top hat on his head. “Off to the races.”

A gust of rain
shook the carriage as it slowed at the front entrance. A six-story tower capped
by a Roman clock and white spire anchored two wings extending on either side.
Unlike most asylums, which had separate annexes for men and women, Greymoor’s
residents were all male. The north wing housed those poor souls suffering from
garden-variety disorders like dementia and melancholia. The other was reserved
for the so-called “incurables,” a euphemism for the criminally insane. Violent,
unpredictable men deemed unfit for prison.

Despite his
doubts, Alec Lawrence would have happily had the lot of them over for tea
rather than spend five minutes in the company of Dr. William Clarence. In his
heart, he wondered if Vivienne’s instincts were correct. But he wanted her to
be wrong because the alternative was far worse.

 About the Author:

Kat Ross worked as a journalist at the United Nations for ten years before happily falling back into what she likes best: making stuff up. She’s the author of the dystopian thriller Some Fine Day, the Fourth Element fantasy series (The Midnight Sea, Blood of the Prophet, Queen of Chaos), and the new Dominion Mysteries. She loves myths, monsters and doomsday scenarios.

Bewitching Book Tours. Mouth Watering. L. P. Maxa. 

Mouth Watering

St Leasing

Book One

LP Maxa

Genre: Romance
Boroughs Publishing


His truck pulled in behind her SUV in the driveway and he was out of his vehicle opening her car door before she’d even turned off her engine. Eager, wasn’t he? He held his arm out, and she smiled as she hooked her hand around his large bicep. “How chivalrous Coach Hardy.”
“I try.”
When they reached the front porch she turned toward him with what she hoped was her sultriest grin, kind of innocent with a hint of fire. “Thanks for everything today, Dominic. The directions. The drinks. The companionship. I’m so glad that you were the first person I met here.” He hadn’t seemed to like the word friend when she’d used it back at the bar, and she’d bet the word companionship was setting his teeth on edge right about now.
“Seems like I was at the right place at the right time. It was a pleasure meeting you Corey Cooper.” He leaned in with his whole body, but went for her cheek instead of her lips. 
“Mmmm, you smell amazing.” She all but purred. She was playing the game, but in truth he really did smell fantastic. “What kind of cologne are you wearing?” 
He moved away a fraction of an inch and kissed her other cheek softly. “I’m not wearing any cologne. But I’m glad you think I smell good considering I didn’t have time to shower after practice.”
She laughed, “Really? You smell mouthwatering, like all my favorite scents rolled into one. I noticed it earlier today. I smelled you before you even said a word to me.” And she had, it was like he had filled the air before she’d known he was behind her. 
His body was close to hers, but still not touching. Corey knew what his game was, leaving it up to her, letting her make the first move. Did he think he was clever? A visionary? And hardly the first guy to use that tactic. But okay Dominic Hardy, you win this one. When he went to pull away again, she grabbed his shirt in her hands and fused their mouths together. She felt herself immediately melt into him. The kiss was the most perfect first kiss she’d ever had.
His lips were soft but demanding and when he fisted his hands in her hair, tugging lightly, she gave in. She opened for him and let his tongue invade her mouth. God this was amazing. A perfect kiss mixed with his yummy scent, she could hardly stand it. Yeah, life at St. Leasing was well on its way to wonderful.

About the Author:
L.P. Maxa lives in Austin, Texas with her husband, daughter, 3 rescue dogs, 1 cat – the fish died – and one bunny who doesn’t seem to like them. She loves reading romance novels as much as she love writing them. She says, inspiration can come from anywhere: a song lyric, a quote, a weekend with friends. The tiniest things can spark amazing stories. She loves to hear from readers.

Um, well. I wasn’t quite expecting what I have just read. 

I found the title of this book enticing, although that, and the history of Dom’s parents, fell by the wayside with the introductions. 

Corey is starting as a counsellor at St. Leasing, and soon falls for Dom, the sports coach. I did think his attitude towards women repellent. Although, along with Corey, he did win me over. Confusing too his going on about Corey being ‘the one’ Very intense, and creepy, but it turns out Dom, and the school, have a secret. Which does explain why Corey and Dom have an easy going, and playful, relationship, from the off. I loved the camaraderie as well between the two, and Dom’s colleagues, and best friends.

Mouthwatering is far from being your typical romance. It is appealing, and I couldn’t put it down. 

COVER REVEAL. No Excuses. Nikky Kaye.

New AP Cover Reveal.jpg

Maddie’s rules for attending a work retreat:

1    Pack the right clothes. Especially extra underwear.
2    Don’t try to school your insanely hot boss on acceptable trust exercises.
3    Be prepared for the extracurricular ropes course.
4    Make sure there is a safety net when you fall, because you will fall hard

Gage doesn’t appreciate how hard it is to be his right hand woman—especially when I’m spending so much time with my own right hand, fantasizing about him. My demanding, control freak boss is testing all my limits, and I don’t know how long I can stay professional.

No Excuses is a hot, full-length contemporary romance, featuring blindfolds, rope play, food fights, and sexy architectural features like wainscoting. As in all Nikky Kaye books, cheating is not allowed, but some funny stuff and a HEA are non-negotiable.

Coming July 7th

Nikky Kaye is almost my real name. I’m a former Film professor who likes more than her movies to be black and white. Sadly, the world doesn’t work that way. I have worked with movie stars, Ivy League brainiacs, and the United Nations—all of which means that I’m familiar with ass-kissing, power struggles, greed and faking it. In my spare time I parent 5 year-old twin boys, serve on the board of an independent cinema, and run a medical consulting company.

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon



The summer started like a hellion on crack.
No one was expecting it … no one was prepared. The mild spring weather had lulled the denizens of the Big Apple into thinking it would always be that way. But before they knew it, the fantasy was swallowed by a rapacious heat that burrowed its way into the concrete and wouldn’t let go. And now? Now there was heat. Overbearing, suffocating heat that came up from the bowels of hell and melted the hardest of hearts, reducing them to sweat and then steam. 
For two weeks, the people suffered under the sun’s merciless rule, and the weather forecasters oral fandango only promised more of the same. A burst of a turbulent red sky at sunset turned that threat into a reality as New Yorkers braced for another brutal repeat of today. 
The day dwindled into twilight as the light was snuffed out by a phantom’s hand. A strong ocean breeze pushed the mugginess aside long enough to breathe. The beleaguered New Yorkers were grateful to have survived and sought solace in the blackness of the oasis offered. Apartment dwellers oozed into the streets in droves- all to enjoy the cooler evening temperature crowned by a silver moon tinged by the color of blood. 
Da da dum dum da da doo doo hey …
In the horde of people, the strange little man humming a tune went unnoticed. The crowd at 34th Street was enjoying itself too much to care about one more drifter … one more oddball that New York seemed to attract. 


Ruth Bainbridge was born in the idyllic, sleepy town of Ithaca, NY, and has been a lover of mysteries for her entire life. Ever since a child, she’s consumed detective stories at regular intervals, becoming enamored with all the superstars of crime. She loved matching wits with Hercule Poirot, Miss Marple, Thomas Pitt, Lord Peter Wimsey, Richard Jury and Edward X Delaney. In fact, she was so inspired by their brilliance that she began trying to emulate her writing idol’s achievements by composing her own short stories. However, life interfered with her plans of becoming the next hopeful to try a life of crime–on paper at least. But the empty nest syndrome happened and gave her the impetus to return to her first love–murder. 
Her works include: THE CURT SAVAGE MYSTERIES (a four-part series that should be read in order); DEADSPEAK, a detective Twin Peaks; and ONLY ONE WILL FALL, the first in THE NICK CROSS MYSTERIES. CREEPZ is her eighth published work. The most intense read of the season, it’s a complex adrenaline rush that’s filled with suspense. 

Facebook / Newsletter /Twitter @Ruth_Mysteries




Enter to win a $10 Amazon/BN GC – a Rafflecopter giveaway


His Semi – Charmed Life. GIVEAWAY. Lisa Hughey. 

His Semi-Charmed Life
Lisa Hughey
Publication date: June 23rd 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Going from princess to pauper wasn’t exactly the fairy tale ending Penelope Hastings believed in as a kid. She grabs at the opportunity to work at Camp Firefly Falls—home of her most treasured childhood memories and the haven where her spoiled heart expanded, and her perspective changed, after an encounter with an older boy. Now she’s hoping that the camp can work its magic one more time and help her craft a new life.

Rags to riches entrepreneur, Diego Ramos, never wanted to see Camp Firefly Falls again—the site of the most hated year in his teenage life as camp counselor, and his most regrettable moment ever. That one clash with an entitled little girl had a profound impact on him, changing the trajectory of his future. So, when his assistant books a corporate retreat at Camp Firefly Falls, he’s more than a little unsettled at the irony.

Now, twenty years later, Penelope and Diego are reunited. A second chance at happiness won’t come easy when their reversal in fortunes and unexpected sexual attraction complicates everything. Will they be able to work through their regrets and memories, and learn that love is the greatest fortune of all?

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo / iBooks


Diego lifted Penny’s hand to his mouth and licked the chocolate. “Don’t want any to go to waste.” His rough fingers circled her wrist, holding her in place. His tongue lapped at her skin and tingles spread from her fingertips throughout her body.

“What—” her throat suddenly tight. What was he doing? “—was that for?”

He pulled away and grinned. “Don’t want you to get dirty.”

A smear of chocolate clung to his upper lip. Without thinking she leaned in and sucked the sweet from his mouth.

The moment was fraught with an odd tension. The crackle of the fire, the scent of wood smoke filled her senses, and yet she could still smell the essence of him.

Amusement sparkled in his chocolate eyes, even more rich and sinful than the candy he’d just licked from her flesh.

“Nothing wrong with a little dirty,” Penny said.

Author Bio:

USA Today Bestselling Author Lisa Hughey has been writing romance since the fourth grade, which was also about the time she began her love affair with spies. Harriet and Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys later gave way to James Bond and Lara Croft and Jason Bourne.

Exploring the complex nature of a profession that requires subterfuge and lies fascinates her. She loves combining her two passions into fiction. As evidenced by her Black Cipher Files series.

Archangel Rafe was her first foray into the paranormal but after spending time in the Angelic Realm, it won’t be her last. At their heart, the Seven novels are about the dynamics of family relationships. But the really hot Archangels don’t hurt.

And recently she’s been immersed in the Stone Family novellas, four stories about a blended family of brothers and sister who have a lot more in common than they realize. But of course she couldn’t just write about family and romance. There are complex plots, bad guys, and suspense too.

Lisa loves to hear from readers and has various places you can connect with her, although, shh, Twitter is her favorite.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter



Prompt Thursday. Tourist. 

Today’s prompt is TOURIST

You Could Consider

Have you ever left your country?

Where is your favourite place in your country?

Have you been a savvy tourist, or a lost tourist? 

Are you going on holiday this year?

Do you prefer the beach, or somewhere with extreme sports?

Have you been backpacking?

What travelling experiences have you had?

Do you live in a country that gets an influx of tourists?