Wednesday, September 28, 2016

The Perks of Loving A Scoundrel by Jennifer McQuiston ~ Excerpt & Giveaway

THE PERKS OF LOVING A SCOUNDREL
By Jennifer McQuiston
Avon Books
September 27, 2016
ISBN: 9780062335142; $$7.99
E-ISBN 9780062335159; $5.99



About the Book

New York Times bestselling author Jennifer McQuiston continues her enchanting Seduction Diaries series as a bookish spinster and an unrepentant rogue unite to unmask a traitor.

Every girl dreams of a hero….

No one loves books more than Miss Mary Channing. Perhaps that’s why she’s reached the ripe old age of six-and-twenty without ever being kissed. Her future may be as bland as milk toast, but Mary is content to simply dream about the heroes and adventures she reads about in her books. That way she won’t end up with a villain instead.

But sometimes only a scoundrel will do.

When she unexpectedly finds herself in the arms of Geoffrey Westmore, London’s most notorious scoundrel, it feels a bit like a plot from one of her favorite novels. Suddenly, Mary understands why even the smartest heroines can fall prey to a handsome face. And Westmore’s is more handsome than most. But far worse than the damage to her reputation, the moment’s indiscretion uncovers an assassination plot that reaches to the highest levels of society and threatens the course of the entire country.

When a tight-laced miss and a scoundrel of epic proportions put their minds together, nothing can stand in their way. But unless they put their hearts together as well, a happy ending is anything but assured.





Purchase Here:


About the Author

A veterinarian and infectious disease researcher by training, Jennifer McQuiston has always preferred reading romance to scientific textbooks. She resides in Atlanta, Georgia, with her husband, their two girls, and an odd assortment of pets, including the pony she promised her children if mommy ever got a book deal.

Connect with Jenny Colgan


Praise for Jennifer McQuiston and THE PERKS OF LOVING A SCOUNDREL:

“McQuiston’s third Seduction Diaries novel is to be commended for its complex and unusual plot and for featuring characters the reader comes to care for. A surprising, readable story about healing, forgiveness, and trust.”   — Kirkus 
 “The story is equal parts mystery and romance, and just when readers begin to feel cheated, the twists and turns navigate to a stunning ending.”— Publishers Weekly 
 “Pure Escapism. Ms. Mcquiston created a romance as epic as the characters who lived it. [...] With easily identifiable main characters and a thrilling story, it was a no brainer for me to gift this book with 5 stars and a Top Pick.” — Night Owl Reviews 
 ”McQuiston’s Seduction Diaries series captivates readers with clever plots and engaging characters. Incorporating plenty of sexual tension, bantering dialogue and a mystery into this installment delivers everything fans expect from McQuiston. This is truly a delightful addition to a reader’s library.”— RT Book Reviews 
 “THE PERKS OF LOVING A SCOUNDREL is full of interesting characters and their interactions, especially those between West and Mary. There is also plenty of suspense concerning the assassination. The era is also a change from the Regency that so Dominates British historical romances.”— Romance Reviews Today 
 “Regency romance fans will adore this addition to McQuiston’s Seduction Diaries series”— Booklist
 

Giveaway



This giveaway is hosted and sponsored by the publisher. StuckInBooks is not responsible for selecting a winner or sending out prizes.


Excerpt from THE PERKS OF LOVING A SCOUNDREL:

From the Diary of Miss Mary Channing
May 24, 1858

            Eleanor wrote today. I should have been glad to hear from her, given that she is my twin sister and I love her dearly, but it would be untruthful to say the contents of her letter pleased me. Her new husband, Lord Ashington, has been called away on business and she’s asked me to come to London to keep her company during the last two months of her confinement.
            Can you imagine? Me, in London?
            My family says I must get my nose out of my books and begin to live in the world around me. It is true I’ve never been further afield than a day trip from home, and that I have never slept a night outside my own bed. But why would I ever want to leave, when I have my books to keep me company? And a trip to London is not without its perils. I could very well end up like one of the characters in my beloved stories, snubbed by the popular crowd. Whispered about behind lace fans. Or worse . . . led astray by a handsome villain and then abandoned to my fate.
            Yet, how could I not go? Eleanor is my sister, and she needs me. So I shall put on a brave face. Pack a trunk. Smile, if I must. But I can’t help but wonder . . . which worries me more?
            The many things that could happen in London?
            Or the thought of seeing Eleanor, with her handsome new husband, and her shining, lovely life, and everything I am afraid of wanting?

Chapter 1

London, May 29, 1858

The smell should have been worse.
            She’d expected something foul, air made surly by the summer heat. Just last week she’d read about the Thames, that great, roiling river that carried with it the filth of the entire city and choked its inhabitants to tears. Her rampant imagination, spurred on by countless books and newspaper articles, had conjured a city of fetid smells, each more terrible than the last. But as Miss Mary Channing opened her bedroom window and breathed in her first London morning, her nose filled with nothing more offensive than the fragrance of . . .
            Flowers.
            Disconcerted, she peeked out over the sill. Dawn was just breaking over the back of Grosvenor Square. The gaslights were still burning and the windows of the other houses were dark. By eight o’clock, she imagined industrious housemaids would be down on their knees, whiting their masters’ stoops. The central garden would fill with nurses and their charges, heading west toward Hyde Park.
            But for now the city—and its smells—belonged solely to her.
            She breathed in againWas she dreaming? Imagining things, as she was often wont to do? She was well over two hundred miles from home, but it smelled very much like her family’s ornamental garden in Yorkshire. She didn’t remember seeing a garden last night, but then, she had arrived quite late, the gaslight shadows obscuring all but the front steps. She’d been too weary to think, so sickened by the ceaseless motion of the train that she’d not even been able to read a book, much less ponder the underpinnings of the air she breathed.
            She supposed she might have missed a garden. Good heavens, she probably would have missed a funeral parade, complete with an eight-horse coach and a brass band.
            After the long, tiresome journey, she’d only wanted to find a bed.
            And yet now . . . at five o’clock in the morning . . . she couldn’t sleep.
            Not on a mattress that felt so strange, and not in a bedroom that wasn’t her own.
            Pulling her head back inside, she eyed the four-poster bed, with its rumpled covers and profusion of pretty pillows. It was a perfectly nice bed. Her sister, Eleanor, had clearly put some thought into the choice of fabrics and furniture. Most women would love such a room. And most women would love such an opportunity—two whole months in London, with shops and shows and distractions of every flavor at their fingertips.
            But Mary wasn’t most women. She preferred her distractions in the form of a good book, not shopping on Regent Street. And these two looming months felt like prison, not paradise.
            The scent of roses lingered in the air, and as she breathed in, her mind settled on a new hope. If there was a flower garden she might escape to—a place where she might read her books and write in her journal—perhaps it would not be so terrible?
            Picking up the novel she had not been able to read on the train, Mary slipped out of the strange bedroom, her bare feet silent on the stairs. She had always been an early riser, waking before even the most industrious servants back home in Yorkshire. At home, the cook knew to leave her out a bit of breakfast—bread and cheese wrapped in a napkin—but no one here would know to do that for her yet.
            Ever since she’d been a young girl, morning had been her own time, quiet hours spent curled up on a garden bench with a book in her lap, nibbling on her pocket repast, the day lightening around her. The notion that she might still keep to such a routine in a place like London gave her hope for the coming two months.
            She drifted down the hallway until she found a doorway that looked promising, solid oak, with a key still in the lock. With a deep breath, she turned the key and pulled it open. She braced herself for knife-wielding brigands. Herds of ragged street urchins, hands rifling through her pockets. The sort of London dangers she’d always read about.
            Instead, the scent of flowers washed over her like a lovely, welcome tide.
            Oh, thank goodness.
            She hadn’t been imagining things after all.
            Something hopeful nudged her over the threshold of the door, then bade her to take one step, then another. In the thin light of dawn, she saw flowers in every color and fashion: bloodred rose blooms, a cascade of yellow flowers dripping down the wrought iron fence. Her fingers loosened over the cover of her book. Oh, but it would be lovely to read here. She could even hear the light patter of a fountain, beckoning her deeper.
            But then she heard something else above those pleasant, tinkling notes.
            An almost inhuman groan of pleasure.
            With a startled gasp, she spun around. Her eyes swam through the early morning light to settle on a gentleman on the street, some ten feet or so away on the other side of the wrought iron fence. But the fact of their separation did little to relieve her anxiety, because the street light illuminated him in unfortunate, horrific clarity.
            He was urinating.
            Through the fence.
            Onto one of her sister’s rosebushes.
            The book fell from Mary’s hand. In all her imaginings of what dreadful things she might encounter on the streets of London, she’d never envisioned anything like this. She ought to bolt. She ought to scream. She ought to . . . well . . . she ought to at least look away.
            But as if he was made of words on a page, her eyes insisted on staying for a proper read. His eyes were closed, his mouth open in a grimace of relief. Objectively, he was a handsome mess, lean and long-limbed, a shock of disheveled blond hair peeking out from his top hat. But handsome was always matter of opinion, and this one had “villain” stamped on his skin.
            As if he could hear her flailing thoughts, one eye cracked open, then the other. “Oh, ho, would you look at that, Grant? I’ve an audience, it seems.”
            Somewhere down the street, another voice rang out. “Piss off!” A snigger followed. “Oh, wait, you already are.”
            “Cork it, you sodding fool!” the blond villain shouted back. “Can’t you see we’re in the presence of a lady?” He grinned. “Apologies for such language, luv. Though . . . given the way you are staring, perhaps you don’t mind?” He rocked back on his heels, striking a jaunty pose even as the urine rained down. “If you come a little closer, I’d be happy to give you a better peek.”
            Mary’s heart scrambled against her ribs. She might be a naive thing, fresh from the country, and she might now be regretting her presumption that it was permissible to read a book in a London garden in her bare feet, but she wasn’t so unworldly that she didn’t know this one pertinent fact: she was not—under any circumstances—coming a little closer.
            Or getting a better peek.
            Mortified, she wrapped her arms about her middle. “I . . .that is . . . couldn’t you manage to hold it?” she somehow choked out. There. She’d managed a phrase, and it was a properly scathing one, too. As good as any of her books’ heroines might have done.
            A grin spread across his face. Much like the puddle at the base of the rosebush. “Well, luv, the thing is, I’m thinking I’d rather let you hold it.” The stream trickled to a stop, though he added a few more drips for good measure. He shook himself off and began to button his trousers. “But alas, it seems you’ve waited too long for the pleasure.” He tipped a finger to the brim of his top hat in a sort of salute. “My friend awaits. Perhaps another time?”
            Mary gasped. Or rather, she squeaked.
            She could manage little else.
            He chuckled. “It seems I’ve got a shy little mouse on my hands. Well, squeak squeak, run along then.” He set off down the street, swaying a bit. “But I’ll leave you with a word of advice, Miss Mouse,” he tossed back over one shoulder. “You’re a right tempting sight, standing there in your unutterables. But you might want to wear shoes the next time you ogle a gentleman’s prick. Never know when you’ll need to run.”

Waiting On Wednesday ~ 9/28/16


This is our version of Waiting on Wednesday but with more cuddles, books we can't wait to cuddle for various reasons.

What are we waiting on this week?  THIS!



Don't be fooled.

Don't make excuses for me.

I am not a good man.

I've seen things no one should, done things no one should talk about. Honor and conscience have no place in my life. But I've fought and I've survived. I've had to.

The first time I saw her dancing on that seedy stage in that second rate club, I felt my heart pulse for the first time. Keelyn Foster was too young, too vibrant for this place, and I knew in an instant that I would make her mine. But first I had to climb my way to the top. I had to have something more to offer her.

I'm here now, money is no object and I have no equal. Except for her. She's disappeared. But don't worry, I will find her and claim her. She will be mine.

Like I said, don't be fooled. I am not the devil in disguise… I'm the one front and center.




Why am I waiting?  I've enjoyed this author's books in the past and I'm excited for a spin off from The Point series.  I want to know more about this guy and I want to know what happened to Keelyn.  Ready to devour!




The ValiantLost to history, the story of the female gladiator has never been told. Until now.

Fallon is the daughter of a proud Celtic king and the younger sister of the legendary warrior Sorcha. When Fallon was just a child, Sorcha was killed while defending their home from the armies of Julius Caesar.

On the eve of her seventeenth birthday, Fallon is excited to follow in her sister's footsteps and earn her place in her father's war band. She never gets the chance.

Fallon is captured by ruthless brigands who sell her to an elite training school for female gladiators owned by none other than Julius Caesar himself. In a cruel twist of fate, the man who destroyed Fallon s family might be her only hope of survival.
Now, Fallon must overcome vicious rivalries, deadly fights in and out of the arena, and perhaps the most dangerous threat of all: her irresistible feelings for Cai, a young Roman soldier and her sworn enemy.

A richly imagined fantasy for fans of Sarah J. Maas and Cinda Williams Chima, "The Valiant" recounts Fallon s gripping journey from fierce Celtic princess to legendary gladiator and darling of the Roman empire."


Releases February 14th, 2016

Why am I waiting? Well, first of all, I really enjoyed Lesley Livingston's Wondrous Strange trilogy. Second of all, some lucky ducklings have read this book already and say it is incredible. Lastly--female gladiator. How badass is that? I need this book in my hands ASAP!


That's what we're waiting on this week! What do you think? What are you waiting on? Leave us a comment and link us up!

Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Happy Release Day ~ The Trouble With Mistletoe by Jill Shalvis ~ Excerpt & Giveaway

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From New York Times bestselling author Jill Shalvis comes a captivating story of love, second chances and new beginnings...


THE TROUBLE WITH MISTLETOE, the second standalone novel in Jill Shalvis's Heartbreaker Bay Series, is out today! Check out the excerpt below and grab your copy of this fantastic new novel today!


   
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If she has her way…


Willa Davis is wrangling puppies when Keane Winters stalks into her pet shop with frustration in his chocolate-brown eyes and a pink bedazzled cat carrier in his hand. He needs a kitty sitter, stat. But the last thing Willa needs is to rescue a guy who doesn’t even remember her…


…He’ll get nothing but coal in his stocking.


Saddled with his great-aunt’s Feline from Hell, Keane is desperate to leave her in someone else’s capable hands. But in spite of the fact that he’s sure he’s never seen the drop-dead gorgeous pet shop owner before, she seems to be mad at him…


Unless he tempers “naughty” with a special kind of nice…


Willa can’t deny that Keane’s changed since high school: he’s less arrogant, for one thing—but he doesn’t even remember her. How can she trust him not to break her heart again? It’s time to throw a coin in the fountain, make a Christmas wish–and let the mistletoe do its work…


Order THE TROUBLE WITH MISTLETOE in ebook or paperback


Amazon | iBooks | Kobo | B&N


Add to your Goodreads


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And don’t miss the first novel in Jill Shalvis’s Heartbreaker Bay Series, SWEET LITTLE LIES, now available! 

Grab your copy HERE!


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Willa sighed and headed to the door.
              Again Keane held the pink bedazzled cat carrier, which should have made him look ridiculous. Instead it somehow upped his testosterone levels. His sharp eyes were on her but they turned warm in a way that melted her right through her center as she moved toward him. She stopped with the glass door between them, hands on hips, hoping she looked irritated even if that wasn’t quite what she was feeling.
              His gaze lowered from her face to run over her body, which gave her another unwelcome rush of heat. Dammit. Now she was irritated andaroused—not a good combo.
              His mouth quirked at the saying on her apron that read Dear Santa, I Can Explain.
              Drawing a deep breath, she opened the door. “You’ve got Petunia again. I hope that means your great-aunt Sally isn’t still sick.”
              He looked surprised that she’d remembered his aunt’s name, or that she’d care. “I don’t know,” he said a little gruffly. “She left me a message saying that I was in charge for the rest of the week but for two days now Pita’s been happily destroying my jobsite. I’m throwing myself on your mercy here. Can you help?”
              Wow. He must be really desperate since he was actually asking and not assuming. But since Petunia was a sweetheart, she knew she’d do it.
              “I’ll even tell you where I went to high school,” he said, adding a smile that was shockingly charming.
              Wow. He hadn’t lost his touch when it came to turning it on. “Not necessary,” she said, painfully aware of their audience.
              Keane’s attention was suddenly directed upward, just above her head. She followed his line of sight and found a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the overhead display of small portable doggy pools. Mistletoe? What the hell? She glanced behind her and what do you know, suddenly Rory and Cara were a flurry of movement racing around looking very, very busy. “When did the mistletoe go up?” she asked them. “And why?”
              “FOMO,” Cara said from behind the counter.
              “Fear of missing out,” Rory translated. “She was hoping a hot guy would come in and the mistletoe would give her an excuse.”
              Willa narrowed her eyes and her two soon-to-be-dead employees scattered again.
              “Interesting,” Keane said, looking amused.
              “I’m not kissing you.”
              His mouth curved. “If you take Pita for the day, I’ll kiss you.”
              “Not necessary,” she said, gratified no one could see her heart during the two-step in her ears. “I’ll take Petunia for the day. No kiss required or wanted.”
              Liar, liar


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jill-shalvis-2012-fullshotAbout Jill Shalvis: New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Jill Shalvis lives in a small town in the Sierras full of quirky characters. Any resemblance to the quirky characters in her books is, um, mostly coincidental. Look for Jill’s sexy contemporary and award-winning books wherever romances are sold and click on the blog button above for a complete book list and daily blog detailing her city-girl-living-in-the-mountains adventures.      
 






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Release Day



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Teaser Tuesday ~ 9/27/16

This is a weekly bookish meme hosted by MizB at Should Be Reading.


To participate you:
* Grab your current read
* BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS!
(Make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)
* Share the title & author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR Lists if they like your teasers!


A Court of Mist and Fury (A Court of Thorns and Roses, #2)Feyre survived Amarantha's clutches to return to the Spring Court—but at a steep cost. Though she now has the powers of the High Fae, her heart remains human, and it can't forget the terrible deeds she performed to save Tamlin's people.

Nor has Feyre forgotten her bargain with Rhysand, High Lord of the feared Night Court. As Feyre navigates its dark web of politics, passion, and dazzling power, a greater evil looms—and she might be key to stopping it. But only if she can harness her harrowing gifts, heal her fractured soul, and decide how she wishes to shape her future—and the future of a world cleaved in two.

With more than a million copies sold of her beloved Throne of Glass series, Sarah J. Maas's masterful storytelling brings this second book in her seductive and action-packed series to new heights.


Teaser...


My brows knotted. I read the next two words, then whipped my face toward him. "You look absolutely delicious today, Feyre?! That's what you wrote?" 
He leaned back in his seat. As our eyes met, sharp claws caressed my mind and his voice whispered inside my head: It's true, isn't it?

It's about time I picked this book up and IT IS SO GOOD. Plus, I am sooo loving Rhys <3


That's our teaser for this week! What do you think? Do you have a teaser to share? Leave us a comment and link us up!

Monday, September 26, 2016

12 Steps To Mr. RIght by Cindi Madsen ~ Happy Release Day


We're celebrating the release of 12 STEPS TO MR. RIGHT by Cindi Madsen! Meet Lincoln Wells!


Title: 12 Steps to Mr. Right
Author: Cindi Madsen 
Age: Adult
Genre: Contemporary Romance/RomCom
Publisher: Entangled

Blurb:
12 steps to finding Mr. Right, composed by dating coach extraordinaire Savannah Gamble

1: Admit to being powerless over your attraction to the wrong type of guy. (Like Lincoln Wells, who broke your heart after an unforgettable one-night stand.)
2: Believe Mr. Right is out there.
3: Take inventory of past mistakes. (See step #1.)
4: Make a list of qualities you want in a man. (Avoid charming baseball players/reason you made these rules in the first place)
5: Take charge of your own life.
6: Learn to love yourself.
7: Sort the hookup guys from the relationship guys. (Avoid a painful brushoff after an amazing night together.)
8: Never, ever settle. (Even if the chemistry is off-the-charts.)
9: Don’t believe you can change a guy. (Once a commitment-phobe, always a commitment-phobe)
10: Communicate your needs.
11: Open your heart & love fully. (Still working on this one…)
12: Don’t ever, ever stray from the steps.

EXCERPT:

When I turned to Linc, every thought involving other guys faded. My focus honed in on his hand still on my back, his body only a breath away from mine. The temptation to see what’d happen if I made a move called to me as I remembered exactly what it felt like to be flush against him.

I managed to resist that move, but despite my brain telling me not to do it, I placed my hand on his biceps, my thumb tracing the curve there. “Did you get your mysterious work done, then?”

“I got what I need, yeah.” His fingers twitched against my back, the fingertips radiating five spots of heat. “You ready to go, or do you need to do more ogling—er, research?”

I smiled and said, “I think I’m good. To the bar with all the happy Braves fans?”

Just as I was about to drop my hand, my fingertips hit a rougher patch of skin. My gaze dropped to the puckered pink scar, and I traced the long line underneath his elbow, from the bottom of his biceps to the beginning of his forearm. “From the surgery?”

His throat worked a swallow. “Yeah.”

“Is it hard being in the locker room? I’m sure it brings back a lot of memories.”

Linc glanced around. “Missing it comes and goes in waves. When we first walked in, it punched me in the gut, but now…” His gaze met mine again, and my heart tugged, because I could tell how hard he was fighting his emotions. It reminded me of a night in college when he’d shown up at my door, told me he’d received some bad news, and asked me to distract him.

Obviously he wasn’t totally in the not-missing- baseball phase yet, and after seeing the passion he still had for the game, what he’d been through the past year hit me. How did you recover from losing the thing you were most passionate about?

“I remember when you first told me about your big baseball plans—the same night we climbed on top of the natural science building because you got it into your head that you needed to be closer to the stars, and I was sure we were going to get suspended.” While I’d been pursing my English degree, and I liked what I studied, I’d thought that I’d never been as passionate about anything as he was about baseball.

“I remember that night. I also remember that I barely got a C on that project—you kinda sucked as a constellation-spotting wingman.”

I poked his chest. “Hey! You’re the one who brought all the beer! Once the stars blurred and swam together, telling one from the other became impossible. I was sure I was going to fall to my death on the way down.”

“I would’ve caught you.” Linc’s hand curled around my hip, like he was prepared to catch me now, and in that instant, I wanted to fall.


About the Author:

USA Today Bestselling author Cindi Madsen sits at her computer every chance she gets, plotting, revising, and falling in love with her characters. Sometimes it makes her a crazy person. Without it, she'd be even crazier. She has way too many shoes but can always find a reason to buy a new pretty pair, especially if they're sparkly, colorful, or super tall. She loves music, dancing, and wishes summer lasted all year long. She lives in Colorado (where summer is most definitely NOT all year long) with her husband and three children.

Visit her at www.cindimadsen.com, where you can sign up for her newsletter and learn about upcoming releases.

Cindi is the author of YA books All the Broken Pieces, Cipher, Rift, Resolution, and Demons of the Sun, and adult romances Falling for Her FiancĂ©, Act Like You Love Me, Resisting the Hero, Cinderella Screwed Me Over and Ready to Wed.

A Stuck In Books Giveaway




Val received TWO Arcs of this one!

So one is going up for Giveaway!



All warfare is deception. Even in high school.

It’s been nineteen days since Isis Blake forgot about him. The boy she can't quite remember. She's stuck in the hospital with a turban-size bandage on her head, more Jell-o than a human being should ever face, and a tiny bit of localized amnesia. Her only goal? To get out of this place before she becomes a complete nutjob herself.

But as Isis’s memories start to return, she realizes there’s something important there at the edges of her mind. Something that may mean the difference between life and death. Something about Sophia, Jack’s girlfriend.

Jack Hunter—the “Ice Prince”—remembers everything. Remembers Isis's purple hair and her smart-ass mouth. Remembers that for a little while, Isis made him feel human. She made him feel. She burned a hole in the ice…and it's time to freeze back up. Boys like him don't deserve girls like her. Because Jack is dangerous. And that danger might be the only thing protecting her from something far more threatening.

Her past.





Available November 1, 2016 from Entangled Teen




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