BOOK BLITZ - HAWK - THE BOYS OF SUMMER BY HEIDI MCLAUGHLIN

Title: Hawk

Series: The Boys Of Summer

Author: Heidi McLaughlin

Genre: Adult, Romance, Sports

Release Date: 10th December 2019

BLURB supplied by Xpresso Book Tours

It’s another season of Renegade baseball and, as they say, the boys are back in town. All except for all-star pitcher, Hawk Sinclair, who has returned to his hometown and back to the ranch he grew up on to rehab after shoulder surgery.

Real estate agent, Bellamy Patrick, feels like she’s failing at being a single mom. Her son is having a hard time fitting in and she’s hoping that playing baseball will be the answer. When he doesn’t make the team, she’s willing to do anything to help him… except that! And that’s exactly what the little league coach expects.

When Hawk’s asked to coach a team of misfit kids, he balks…until he sees how the program is run and how boys are left out. That’s when he knows he has no choice but to do the right thing and turn these boys into the players he knows they can be.

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EXCERPT

I finally give up on the overgrown weeds and head into my house to clean up and make dinner. The options are limited and the longer I stand in my kitchen with the refrigerator door open, the more I realize that I need to spend some serious time walking the aisles of the grocery store to restock everything. 

“Dinner out it is,” I say to myself. I think tonight calls for pizza. Downtown has a great place called The Depot. It’s family friendly and Chase loves their pizza because it’s not heavy on the sauce. I prefer their white pizza with pesto, chicken and broccoli, which I know Chase won’t touch. The Depot always has an arcade, all you can eat soft serve, and a great salad bar. It’s the perfect way to end the night. 

When I hear Chase in the garage, I open the door and greet him. He’s still smiling and it’s the best sight ever. “Good day?”

“Great day,” he replies as he comes into the kitchen. He sets his glove down on the table and sighs happily. “I made friends today.” 

“You certainly did, bud. Why don’t you go wash up and we’ll go out for pizza?” He nods in agreement and takes off down the hall. I will never understand why life has to be so hard. The boys he was with earlier are in his class, in our neighborhood. They see each other every day in school and on the playground. But, it’s people like Brett Larsen who put this divide between the kids and the adults, who makes it seem like if you don’t follow his path, you don’t belong. 

I want to belong. 

I want my son to belong.

I’m ready to go when Chase comes out of the bedroom with clean clothes on. The dirt smudges on his face were cute, but I’m happy he washed them off. All the way into town, he prattles on about Hawk and how cool he is and how he can’t wait to see him again tomorrow. Technically, I could see him to tomorrow too, or at least talk to him if I find out the asking price on the land. Surprisingly, the thought of speaking to him elates me, and I know it’s because I want to thank him for spending time with my son. 

Once we’re parked, Chase is leading the way into the restaurant. He tells the hostess that we need a table for two and follows behind her to our seats. The confidence he’s showing is new, and I like it a lot. 

“Hey, Mr. Sinclair!” Chase yells out as we’re making our way to our table. My steps falter as Hawk’s eyes meet mine. He smiles and my lady bits jump for freaking joy. I try to smile back, but by the look on his face, I guess I must be more grimacing than smiling because he looks embarrassed. 

“Hi, Chase. It’s good to see you again.”

“This is my mom,” my son says, pointing toward me. 

“Chase, I met Mr. Sinclair this morning. He was riding a horse.” He was riding a horse . . . What the hell is wrong with me? Did I suddenly turn into Baby from Dirty Dancing with her whole, “I carried a watermelon” line? 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Heidi McLaughlin is a New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of The Beaumont Series, The Boys of Summer, and The Archers.

Originally, from the Pacific Northwest, she now lives in picturesque Vermont, with her husband, two daughters, and their three dogs.

In 2012, Heidi turned her passion for reading into a full-fledged literary career, writing over twenty novels, including the acclaimed Forever My Girl.

When writing isn't occupying her time, you can find her sitting courtside at either of her daughters' basketball games.

Heidi's first novel, Forever My Girl, has been adapted into a motion picture with LD Entertainment and Roadside Attractions, starring Alex Roe and Jessica Rothe, and opened in theaters on January 19, 2018, and is now available on DVD & Digital.

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REVIEW - NOT JUST FOR CHRISTMAS BY KIM KNIGHT

From enemies to lovers two lonely hearts become one with a heart warming twist...

Not Just For Christmas is book #2 of the Romance in The City series of stand-alone, novella length, romantic, steamy stories set in fast paced cities all around the world.

Readers are taken on a romantic journey set in London, during the festive season following two characters originally opposed to each other fall in love. There's enough warmth and sensuality to keep readers warm at any time of year.

Title: Not Just For Christmas
Series: Romance In The City

Author: Kim Knight

Genre: Multi Cultural Interest, Romance

Publisher: Books Go Social

Release Date: 27th February 2017

BLURB from Goodreads

As Christmas draws near thirty five year old social worker Ava Green, finds herself desperate to not be alone at her favourite time of year. Following the break up of her engagement earlier in the year, Ava has spent ten months on a mission to get over her ex.

With the support of her two closest girlfriends Tasha and Marie, Ava makes a bold move that surprises her girlfriends in order to find a companion for the festive season. Ava’s path crosses with tall dark and handsome Detective Jerome Samuels, an older man and a divorcee in search of love, the sad thing is Ava can't stand him.

Once their paths cross after a few bumps along the way there’s no turning back, these two characters are caught up in a whirlwind of sensual and heart warming romance, once they settle their differences.

A love affair that Detective Jerome Samuels hopes is not just for Christmas, he’s on a mission to claim his lady Ava.

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REVIEW

I felt it was about time to read something with a Christmas theme and saw this bright festive cover, read the blurb and knew I wanted to read it. I have seen three different covers for this novella book but have to admit I love this one with the red bauble the most!

The main female character is Ava Green who is a social worker. Ava has recently split up with her fiancé when she found him cheating on her! As Christmas is fast approaching, Ava becomes sad and down hearted about the thought of spending Christmas alone. On an evening out with her two female best friends they come up with a plan to find Ava someone to spend Christmas with. Marie & Tasha help her create an advert and draw up a contract for a “no-strings” Christmas fling.

Whilst Ava is waiting for replies to her advert, she finds herself looking for potential Christmas fling material around her at work. There isn’t really anyone she would want to spend the time with. She notices the rather handsome Detective who she sometimes works with her on her child protection, social work cases. The detective has all the characteristics that Ava likes, he is tall, dark and he can be quite sharp and surly, so no he isn’t suitable boyfriend or boyfriend just for Christmas material at all.

Ava does get answers to her adverts but they don’t work out and she is just about to resign herself to having Christmas alone when she gets another potential Christmas “friend”. This time she takes it slower, not suggesting meeting up, she wants to know more about this guy she may decide to spend Christmas with. At the same time as all this something strange seems to have come over Detective Samuels at work, he has suddenly become Mr Happy Sunshine, not his usual moody, cynical self at all. He actually has a bit of a chat with her now. Ava doesn’t understand the sudden change in his attitude. Ava soon puts the Detective to the back of her mind as her new email “just for Christmas” boyfriend sends her beautiful flowers to her work place, then chocolates. Ava is impressed he really seems to know how to spoil a woman.

So, who does Ava end up with at Christmas? Alone? With a just for Christmas boyfriend? or a maybe more permanent boyfriend?

I really liked the character of Ava, she secretly still wants all the romance of a relationship, but feels like there isn’t enough time to build that type of relationship before Christmas, so she has decided she will compromise and make a simple contract for a “no strings boyfriend for Christmas” she is willing to do all the work of making the Christmas Dinner so long as she doesn’t have to eat it alone.

I also loved the characters of Detective Samuels, who initially comes across as being a serious, all work man, not interested in romance, and happy to be in his own company and alone. Then as we learn more about him, his situation is explained, and you see past the tough exterior façade that he presents when at work.

I really enjoyed this Christmas themed novella. It was a different kind of romance. When Ava gives up on getting a normal boyfriend in time for the festive season, she comes up with the quirky idea of have a “no strings, boyfriend for Christmas”. Her two best friends not only support her idea, they help her draw up a legally binding contract containing what she does and doesn’t want along with how far she wishes the romance to go.

This was a sweet, romantic with a festive feel too. I guess the moral within this novella could be never give up on what you really want. Or perhaps be prepared to approach things from a different angle if one way of finding love isn’t working.

To sum up, I really did enjoy reading this feel good, festive romance. Would be interested in checking out more by this author.

BLOG TOUR - THE KILL CLUB BY WENDY HEARD

Title: The Kill Club

Author: Wendy Heard

Genre: Thriller, Mystery

Publisher: Harlequin, Mira

Release Date: 17th December 2019

BLURB from Goodreads

A haunting thriller about a woman who attempts to save her brother's life by making a dangerous pact with a network of vigilantes who've been hunting down the predators of Los Angeles.

Jazz can’t let her younger brother die.

Their foster mother Carol has always been fanatical, but with Jazz grown up and out of the house, Carol takes a dangerous turn that threatens thirteen-year-old Joaquin’s life. Over and over, child services fails to intervene, and Joaquin is running out of time.

Then Jazz gets a blocked call from someone offering a solution. There are others like her, people the law has failed. They’ve formed an underground network of “helpers,” each agreeing to murder the abuser of another. They're taking back their power and leaving a trail of bodies throughout Los Angeles—dubbed the Blackbird Killings. If Jazz joins them, they’ll take care of Carol for good.

All she has to do is kill a stranger.

Jazz soon learns there's more to fear than getting caught carrying out her assignment. The leader of the club has a zero tolerance policy for mistakes.

And the punishment for disobeying orders is death.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Wendy Heard, author of Hunting Annabelle, was born in San Francisco and has lived most of her life in Los Angeles. When not writing, she can be found hiking the Griffith Park trails, taking the Metro and then questioning this decision, and haunting local bookstores.

AUTHOR LINKS

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Twitter: @wendydheard

Instagram: @wendydheard

Facebook: @wendydheard

EXCERPT

THE CEILING ABOVE the crowd sparkles with strings of golden lights. They twinkle just bright enough to illuminate the faces. I adjust a microscopic issue with my toms and run my fingers through my bangs, straightening them over my eyes. The guys are tuning up, creating a clatter of discordant notes in the monitors. When they’re done, they approach my kit for our usual last-minute debate about the set list. Dao humps his bass in his ready-to-play dance, black hair swishing around his shoulders. “Dude, stop,” Matt groans and readjusts the cable that connects his Telecaster to his pedal board.

               “Your mom loves my dancing,” Dao says.

“You dance like Napoleon Dynamite,” Matt retorts.

“Your mom dances like Napoleon Dynamite.”

Andre raises his hands. “Y’all both dance like Napoleon Dynamite, and so do both your moms, so let’s just—”

I wave a stick at them. “Guys. Focus. The sound guy is watching. We’re three minutes behind.” I have no patience for this shit tonight. This all feels extra and stupid. I should be doing something to help Joaquin. His dwindling supply of insulin sits at the front of my brain like a ticking clock.

The guys get into their spots, the distance between them set by muscle memory. Andre leans forward into the mic and drawls, “Arright DTLA, lez get a little dirty in here.” His New Orleans accent trickles off his tongue like honey.

The room inhales, anticipates, a sphere of silence.

“Two three four,” I yell. I clack my sticks together and we let loose, four on the floor and loud as hell. I’m hitting hard tonight. It feels great. I need to hit things. My heart beats in tempo. My arms fly through the air, the impact of the drums sharp in my joints, in my muscles, the kick drum a pulse keeping the audience alive. This is what I love about drumming, this forcing of myself into the crowd, making their hearts pound in time to my beat.

Dao fucks up the bridge of “Down With Me” and Andre gives him some vicious side-eye. The crowd is pressed tight up against the stage. A pair of hipsters in cowboy hats grabs a corresponding pair of girls and starts dancing with them. I cast Dao an eye-rolling look referring to the cowboy hats and he wiggles his eyebrows at me. I stomp my kick drum harder, pretending it’s Carol’s face.

The crowd surges back. Arms fly. A guy in the front staggers, falls. A pair of hands grips the stage, and a girl tries to pull herself up onto it.

Matt and Dao stop playing. The music screeches to a halt.

“What’s going on?” I yell.

“Something in the pit,” Dao calls back.

Andre drops his mic and hops down into the crowd. Dao and Matt cast their instruments aside and close the distance to the edge of the stage. I get up and join them. Together, we look down into the pit.

A clearing has formed around a brown-haired guy lying on the floor. Andre and the bouncer squat by him as he squirms and thrashes, his arms and legs a tangle of movement. Andre’s got his phone pressed to his ear and is talking into it urgently. The bouncer is trying to hold the flailing man still, but the man’s body is rigid, shuddering out of the bouncer’s grip. He flops onto his back, and I get a good look at his face.

Oh, shit, I know this guy. He’s a regular at our shows. He whines and pants, muffled words gargling from his throat. Some of the bystanders have their phones out and are recording this. Assholes.

The man shrieks like a bird of prey. The crowd sucks its whispers back into itself, and the air hangs heavy and hushed under the ceiling twinkle lights.

Andre is still talking into his phone. The bouncer lifts helpless hands over the seizing man, obviously not sure what to do.

I should see if Andre wants help. I hop down off the stage and push through the crowd. “Excuse me. Can you let me through? Can you stop recording this and let me through?”

I’m suddenly face-to-face with a man who is trying to get out of the crowd as hard as I’m trying to get into it. His face is red and sweaty, his eyes wild. “Move,” he orders me.

Dick. “You fucking move.”

“Bitch, move.” He slams me with his shoulder, knocking me into a pair of girls who cry out in protest. I spin, full of rage, and reverse direction to follow him.

“Hey, fucker,” I scream. He casts a glance over his shoulder. “Yeah, you! Get the fuck back here!”

He escalates his mission to get out of the crowd, elbowing people out of his way twice as fast. I’m smaller and faster, and I slip through the opening he leaves in his wake. Just before he makes it to the side exit, I grab his flannel shirt and give him a hard yank backward. “Get the fuck back here!” I’m loose, all the rage and pain from earlier channeling into my hatred for this entitled, pompous asshole.

I know I should rein it in, but he spins to face me and says, “What is your problem, bitch?” And that’s it. I haul back and punch him full in the jaw.

He stumbles, trips over someone’s foot and lands on his ass on the cement floor. His phone goes clattering out of his hand, skidding to a stop by someone’s foot. “The hell!”

“Oh, shit,” cries a nearby guy in a delighted voice.

“Fucking bitch,” the guy says, and this is the last time he’s calling me a bitch. I go down on top of him, a knee in his chest. I swing wild, hit him in the jaw, the forehead, the neck. He throws an elbow; it catches me in the boob and I flop back off him with a grunt of pain. He sits up, a hand on his face, and opens his mouth to say something, but I launch myself off the ground again, half-conscious of a chorus of whoops and howls around us. I throw a solid punch. His nose cracks. Satisfaction. I almost smile. Blood streams down his face.

“That’s what you get,” I pant. He crab-shuffles back, pushes off the ground and sprints for the exit. I let him go.

My chest is heaving, and I have the guy’s blood on my hand, which is already starting to ache and swell. I wipe my knuckles on my jeans.

His phone lights up and starts buzzing on the floor. I pick it up and turn it over in my hand. It’s an old flip phone, the kind I haven’t seen in years. The bright green display says Blocked.

Back in the pit, the man having a seizure shrieks again, and then his screams gurgle to a stop. I put the phone in my pocket and push through the onlookers. I watch as his back convulses like he’s going to throw up, and then he goes limp. A thin river of blood snakes out of his open mouth and trails along the cement floor.

The room echoes with silence where the screams had been. A trio of girls stands motionless, eyes huge, hands pressed to mouths.

The flip phone in my pocket buzzes. I pull it out, snap it open and press it to my ear. “Hello?”

A pause.

“Hello?” I repeat.

A click. The line goes dead.

A set of paramedics slams the stage door open, stretcher between them. “Coming through!” They kneel down and start prodding at the man curled up on the concrete. His head flops back. His eyes are stretched wide and unseeing, focused on some point far beyond the twinkling ceiling lights.

Next to him on the concrete lies something… What is it? It’s rectangular and has red and—

It’s a playing card.

Excerpted from The Kill Club by Wendy Heard, Copyright © 2019 by Wendy Heard. Published by MIRA Books. 

BOOK BLITZ - THE LAST ATLANTIAN BY MIKKI NOBLE

Title: The Last Atlantian

Author: Mikki Noble

Genre: Mythology, Urban Fantasy, Young Adult

Release Date: 13th December 2019

BLURB supplied by Xpresso Book Tours
Spencer did not plan to work on her birthday. She didn’t plan a lot of things, but they happened anyway. Like, when she touched a guy and he turned into a gold statue, or when some stranger appeared to tell her she was in danger. She didn’t plan to see her life forever changed by one simple act, and it still happened anyway.

What Spencer doesn’t know is why. Why is all this happening to her? Why does she have the power to turn people into gold all of a sudden. Who is she really?

And why is this cute guy calling her the last Atlantian?

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EXCERPT

Spencer opened her eyes and looked around the busy coffee shop. Almost every table was full, and Cia had a very frantic look on her face. There was a line-up to the front door and almost all the tables were full of chatty people.

“Cia?” Spencer shouted, running over to her friend. “You’re here. And you’re okay.”

“You’re late,” Cia answered as she handed a customer their change.

“Um…” What? Cia knew very well that Spencer wasn’t late and why was she acting like that? Normal? After everything that had happened, why wasn’t she just as freaked out as Spencer was?

Cia walked over to the fridge and pulled out the soy milk. “Don’t just stand there. Get to work. I need your help.”

“But—”

“But nothing. I’ve been slammed for over an hour. I know it’s your birthday but you need to help me.”  

Spencer sighed and decided not to argue with her friend. It would be utterly pointless anyway. Maybe she could use a little normal after her morning, although she had a hard time letting it all go. Who was to say those evil, gold robed people wouldn’t come back again, or that creepy guy?

No, the shop was full of people. And… Spencer realized that the gold statue was gone.

Yes, a normal day of work might actually get her mind of the crazy of the day. 

This location was home to a local writer, who came in for her morning coffee and would write for a couple hours. She was seated at her usual table in the corner, not looking up once at the crowd. She was here every day, so it didn’t get more normal than that. Spencer figured she would just take the rest of the day one moment at a time and pray that nothing else weird happened. “Where do you want me, boss?”

“Take the next order. I’ve got this one,” Cia answered in a clipped tone. 

Even though she didn’t want to, Spencer went around the counter to help with coffee orders. Just because it was her birthday and a bunch of weird things had been happening, didn’t mean that she would leave her best friend alone with a crowd and a line-up. More normal for Spencer to concentrate on.  

Cia glared at her as Spencer grabbed a mug—noticing right away that the burnt spot, the one where that guy had thrown a fire ball, only narrowly missing her head, was gone. “Hurry up. What’s wrong with you today?”

It was Spencer’s turn to glare. “I’m going.”

Maybe she could convince herself that it was all some strange, elaborate dream and make it through the day that way. That’s what Spencer decided to do. Apparently, that was how Cia had decided to cope. So why not?

Over the next few hours, Spencer had finally been able to convince herself that it was a dream. It had to be. Although it wasn’t like her to have crazy dreams like that, she liked that idea better and just tried to forget it. It only took a couple cappuccino’s, a lot of repetitive thought, and a busy coffee shop to convince her.

Jeremy never came in, though; that was strange. He came into the coffee house every single day, rain or shine, but she didn’t worry too much about it. She didn’t want to freak out. Maybe he was just away or got stuck at work. Whatever. She didn’t care to see him anyway. 

“Wow. That was one heck of a day,” Cia said several hours later, while turning off the open sign.

Spencer looked up at her from the dishwasher and said, “Yeah. Maybe they shouldn’t have left us alone on Friday the 13^th. Apparently, people need their coffee today of all days.”

Cia laughed. “Yeah, that must be it.”

“At least it went by fast, right?” After all, she’d only been there a few hours when it was time to close the shop. At least, it felt that way.

Spencer pulled the garbage bag that smelled of coffee grounds and stale milk from the trash can and tied it closed, then tossed it in front of the back door before putting her jacket on and heading outside. It was cooler now that the sun was lowering, but not too bad. As she tossed the garbage bag into the bin, Spencer got a terrible chill along her spine and the hairs on her neck stood up. She was overcome with a need to run for the coffee shop. The moment she was inside, Spencer locked the door behind her and rushed to check on Cia.

Cia was standing at the till, counting money. Spencer let out a huge breath and pressed a palm to her heart, as if that would ease the beat. “I’m almost done here,” Cia said. “Why don’t you head home and try to salvage the rest of your birthday? Maybe you can do something fun.” 

That was all Spencer had wanted all day, was to go home, but for some reason, she didn’t feel like leaving Cia alone. “Aren’t you coming over anyway?”

“Yeah, I was planning on it, but it might be a while and I have to pick up my little brother from his friend’s and drop him off at home. I don’t want you stuck here for another hour.”

“I wouldn’t feel right. Maybe there’s something I can help with.”

“Go,” Cia demanded. “You’ve worked hard enough. Everything will be great. I’ll see you around six, I think.”

Spencer almost protested but her phone rang. Since it was so quiet in the coffee shop, she could hear it all the way from the locker. It had been in there all day, which was unlike her. She normally carried her phone around, but it had been so busy, she’d forgotten to grab it earlier. She walked through the kitchen area and continued down the back hallway where a set of lockers were bolted to the wall. The phone continued to ring the entire time. Spencer grabbed the lock, spun the combo and opened the door just as the ringing stopped.

She pulled it from her purse, noticed it was her mother, and decided to call her back on the way home. She untied her apron and tossed it inside, grabbed her purse and her sweater before slamming the door.

Her phone started to ring again.

Mom.

This time she answered it on the second ring. If she didn’t, her mom would just keep calling. “Hello?”

“How’s my birthday girl? How was your shift?”

“It was fine, Mom. What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing.”

Spencer rolled her eyes. Her mother never called for ‘nothing.’ “Right. Now, what’s the real reason?”

“I really hate to ask you this, but can you pick up some milk on the way home? I’m sorry. I need it for dinner. Otherwise, I wouldn’t ask. Oh, and some parmesan, and some oregano, while you’re there.”

Spencer groaned. Luckily, her mom didn’t ask for much, so she just said yes and hung up the phone. She made her way back to the front where Cia was still standing at the till counting. She was a quick counter, but she was so noisy with the coins. Spencer didn’t know how she did it, but she slammed those coins down like a sledgehammer on a gong.

When Cia finished with the dollar coins, Spencer stepped in. “My mom called. I have to pick up some groceries on the way home.”

“I see. Go get the milk and I’ll meet you at your place a little bit after.”

“You sure?”

Cia nodded. Already ignoring Spencer, she moved on to the quarters. Spencer left, not saying anything else, except, “Make sure to lock this door behind me.”

It would be dark in about an hour and it would take her almost half that to get milk and walk home. She wished her parents weren’t so busy and they could at least pick her up.

So far, if she was being honest, it was a sucky birthday.

Oh, well. Spencer made a vow then. Next year will be great. Next year, she’d be surrounded by her friends, she wouldn’t have to work, and hopefully she’d have her car by then. How much could a car cost? A year’s coffee money, plus tips should get her something at least.

She hoped.

She’d been working at the coffee shop for almost three months and she’d saved every penny so far, except for what it cost to rent the uniform. Spencer was just happy her best friend’s parents owned the coffee shop and hired her, no questions asked. If Spencer had to go out and get a job, go for interviews and make a resume, she wasn’t sure she’d have gotten hired.

The streets were quiet for a Friday. It could have been peoples’ superstitions keeping them inside. Spencer had never cared about those things. Not that she didn’t believe. She just didn’t concentrate on them very much.

Did she have exceptionally bad luck on Friday the 13^th? She didn’t think so.

Although, with the way today was going, maybe she did.

Her birthday didn’t land on Friday very often anyway. She shouldn’t read too much into it. Today was just not her day.

It took her ten minutes to reach the store. Spencer reached for the cool metal handle of the cooler and yanked the door open. She grabbed the jug and the other items on the list and made it all the way to the counter before realizing she had no money on her. She’d forgotten to grab her tip money off the counter. She checked every pocket in her jacket and found nothing. Then she reached into her jeans pocket and found a set of keys that weren’t hers.

She gasped and swore as an icy cool feeling sunk in and reached straight to her core.

Creepy guy’s keys. The ones he’d dropped on the floor. 

It had definitely not been a dream.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

As far back as she can remember, Mikki was creating characters and stories in her head. It wasn’t until fate brushed the tip of its wings over her eyes that she began to see that writing was what she was born to do. She loves animals, reading, everything supernatural related, and enjoys spending her free time on social media whenever she can.

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