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Make the Right Choice - Pick Up LILA'S CHOICE!

8/12/2014

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For one week, my friend Laura Brown's eBook, LILA'S CHOICE, will be on sale for 99¢!  Romance fans won't want to miss this one! 


If a red-hot sale price wasn't enough, Laura's also hosting a giveaway, too.  Make sure you scroll to the bottom of this post to enter.  No purchase necessary... although, c'mon, purchases do make us writer folks pretty darn excited.. 
Picture
Never let your friends get involved in your personal life.

Lila and Nate learn this the hard way. They are the star-crossed lovers of Glendale High. For three years the students have waited for the two to get together. They begged Nate to put his past relationship behind him, and cringed when Lila started dating Bryce. Just your typical teenage romance, except they’re the teachers.

Lila, a guidance counselor with a sweet demeanor, has an answer for every problem, every problem but her own. A visit from childhood friend Bryce thrusts her calm world into turmoil, as emotions buried deep inside are dragged to the surface. He soon realizes what only a friend can notice and a lover regret, that Lila, unbeknownst to herself, is in love with Nate.

Nate has seen better days. He is a history teacher stuck living in the past. Depression has kept his love for Lila unspoken, his ego frail after being cheated on.

Now Lila and Nate’s coworkers must unleash a scheme and uncover Lila’s true feelings. In a school this nosey what better way to get fast results than to involve the student population? The students are all too eager to get involved.

If everything goes as planned Lila will have to choose between two men. If her friends fail they might destroy these three and ruin their friendship. No wonder the scheme is called Project Torture.


Sounds good, right?  Keep reading on for more word love--an excerpt from Lila's Choice!
Lila Erickson watched with sluggish eyes while her margarita glass was refilled. Again. By her math this was her fifth cup. Maybe her sixth with the way the tan carpet rolled in shallow waves at her feet. She put a hand on the wooden coffee table. It kept floating, bringing her arm along for the ride. She placed her other hand on her head. The rolling stopped. Drats, it was her, not the apartment.

Her good friend and roommate, Ette, hummed as she filled two glasses. She ignored Lila’s hand plastered to her head and pushed the drink closer. “So…” she took a sip of her own margarita. “Bryce is coming for a visit?”

Lila groaned and pushed the cup away. This wasn’t a Saturday night drinking binge. This wasn’t helping Ette get over her latest fling. This was “get the counselor drunk so she’d spill her guts.” Lila wasn’t biting. Yet.

Desperate for a distraction, she became lost in the scene outside their apartment window. The yellow light of the parking lot illuminated a lone tree. The autumn leaves swayed in the light breeze—waves of green, yellow, and red, the latter reminiscent of Bryce’s hair. Her heart skipped a beat. She darted her eyes to the floor, choking on newfound desire. Like all things uncomfortable, she wanted to keep the meaning hidden deep inside. Thanks to Ette, the alcohol had already called her bluff. A shiver raced down her spine as she eyed her friend. Ette grinned over her glass.

Lila grabbed a pillow and thrust her head in. Bryce was her childhood friend, nothing more. They had been friends since kindergarten and stayed in touch after he moved away when they were ten.

“The cute redhead in the flesh, this should be good,” Ette drooled, already planning on her next conquest.

Lila dug her nails into the pillow.

Ette sensed Lila’s capitulation. “Why is this bad? I thought he was one of your best friends?”

“Oh, he is. But he was always just that—a friend. Now the door that leads to ‘other’ has opened and I can’t find the key.” Clutching onto the pillow, Lila’s nails dug into the fabric, threatening to poke holes.

“Sounds like someone has a crush on their childhood friend.”

“Yes.” Lila clasped a hand over her mouth, disbelieving her voice. “And that’s wrong.”

“Oh for God sakes. What’s so wrong about it? So you’ll flirt a little as you talk about days long past. Maybe he’ll flirt too?” Ette leaned forward in anticipation of the chase.

“I thought we were supposed to be helping you?”

Ette rolled over and ran a hand through her long blond hair. “It’s the same-old, same-old. Dating a week and the temperature ran cold. I’m out the door. I’ll drink,” she eyed her empty glass, “which it looks like I’m already up to. From here I’ll sulk in my room for a few days and then get all dolled up and go flirt shamelessly with some unsuspecting stranger.” She licked her lips in anticipation of yet another anonymous sexual encounter.

“Sounds like you’re going to be fine.”

Ette placed an arm around Lila. “Look, you love Bryce, he’s one in a million, and a friend of twenty years is hard to come by. You also know each other quite well. If the feelings are mutual, you can discover where this new path will take you. If not, you’ll still enjoy his weekly e-mails.”

Lila’s eyes drifted away from Ette. She couldn’t put twenty years on the line. She couldn’t risk ruining a friendship, no matter how good looking the pudgy boy had become.

Ette swirled the liquid around, watching her friend. “Do me a favor. Don’t turn into Nate on me.”

Lila stopped cold. She turned sharply to her friend. “What does that mean?”

“Seek out the opportunity in Bryce, don’t hide behind some shadow like Nate.”

“Nate isn’t hiding behind a shadow.” Lila blinked as Nate’s blue eyes came to mind. She shook her head. Great, now she was hallucinating eye colors. “He’s been hurt by a loved one.”

Ette stood up. “Here we go, defending Nate when I was proving a point.”

Lila sat dumbfounded, unable to wrap her head around what had happened.

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The Icing on the Cake

6/10/2014

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Today I visited my boys' school.  Two classes and a writing club, to which both of my boys belong.  The woman who runs the writing club began the visit by giving me a plant.  A pineapple lilac or something.  It's purple.  And it looks like a pineapple.  It's a clever name, really.

"I asked your boys if you were a plant person," she said. "They said no."  My boys don't lie.  I used to have plants... until the cats chewed every last one of them to bits.  There's not a sprig of color in my landscaping, either, because DOGS.  And now we have horses in our backyard.  So, yeah, maybe someday I'll try to cultivate life again.  Today is not that day.  Well, except for the really pretty flower thing named after fruit.

The writer's group was great, of course.  There was so much enthusiasm in that small group.  Each of them had written questions on index cards and took turns reading them out loud.  I made my boys blush by sharing the bits of "Daniel" based on them, which may be my favorite part of being invited to the school (but don't tell the boys).  The teacher spun my answers so that they related to concepts she's been teaching the kids.  She left out the part about drinking too much caffeine and popping Cinnamon Fire Jolly Ranchers like they're going out of style.   

The writing group teacher bought copies for each of the kids who weren't able to buy a copy for themselves, so that was really sweet.  I'm not sure if I'm supposed to say that out loud, but she did it.  I liked it.  I'm telling you about it.  

Then we had cake.  Really, really good cake.  Chocolate with that whipped cream frosting.

I may just sign books for her class, like, every day.

Next I spoke with my 10-year-old's class.  They read the whole book, but they asked me to read a section out loud for them anyway.  We agreed that the part about Whiskers in the tree was the perfect section.  I got to talk like a robot and, for a few seconds, a cat spinning on a ceiling fan.  My life is weird.

One of the kids asked how I came up with the character "Annie", Daniel's best friend.  For several years, my son had only one very good friend, a girl who is still in his class.  When I told the kids that I had based Annie on a girl they knew, I had to quickly make sure they knew she probably didn't eat worms.  

I've said my life is weird, haven't I?  Just checking.

My next stop was my eight-year-old's Second Grade class.  They had only made it through eight pages of the book because their teacher hadn't been able to do more than that due to multiple family emergencies the month before.  As expected, the kids weren't very excited about me being there.  One girl, who spoke in a cute little whisper kept mentioning something about her mom writing a book about ninja ballerinas?  At least, I think that's what she said.  It was hard to hear over the class next door's Kidz Bop version of "Fireworks".

The teacher gave me her microphone thing and let me read a couple chapters of the book.  Once I did that, the kids were much more excited about me and "Daniel the Draw-er".  I got to use my acting skills to read as Daniel, Annie, Whiskers, Pi-zzabot, Tommy, Lila, Ms. Konkle, and Mr. & Mrs. A.  It made me miss drama class.

One of the boys from the writing group was there for the reading, too, and he was actually finishing my sentences as I was reading.  Like, from memory.  

Wait.  Do I have a fanboy?  Because I really want some fanpeople.  That's awesome.

All in all, 19 books found their new homes, and that makes me happy.  I'm pretty sure it would have been more with more notice (or with more reading), but it was a good--and long--visit anyway.

And I got cake.  Thumbs up, friends.  Thumbs up.
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Third Time's a Charm

12/4/2013

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On July 22, 2011 I met Claire Darling for the very first time.  At the time, Claire was an 18-year-old high school student by morning, horse trainer by every spare hour after that.  She quickly became a friend of mine because she's sarcastic and self-deprecating, a good soul.  Two-and-a-half years and three books later, she and I are pretty tight.  I've fought for her to fall in love and I cried with her (over and over) when her heart was shattered into pieces.  She's struggled and she's endured.  She's no Super Woman, but that's why she's real.  Well, real is a relative term, but you know what I mean.

Over the past couple of years, I've come to adore good guys Liam and Graham.  I've loved to hate all those shady characters--Rayna, Rowan, and Maureen.  Maybe you've found the strings of your emotions tugged by one or more of them, too.  If that's true for you, then I thank you for investing yourself in my humble words.

There's so much I want to say, but so much I can't because I don't want to give anything away.  That, and I'm so overwhelmed by the day that I don't know where to begin and where to end.  

Maybe Liam says it best in the last paragraph I wrote today that brought the third and final novel to a close:  

"With any luck, tomorrow his big heart will eclipse anything he lacks. At least, this is what I pray as I stare out at the stars strung in the deep blue. I want him to find his own place to belong, because I’ve found that place for myself, a home, and I’m homesick."

Like Liam, I've found a home in Hope Creek and I'm already homesick. 

Thanks, guys, for everything you've given me.  You'll never know what you've done for me.
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Joy

11/6/2013

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Do you know joy?  I do.

I hear it in the giggle of the girl bouncing along with her pony's trot.

Do you know joy?  I do.

I see it in the grin of the man whose legs cannot move him, but his horse can.

Do you know joy?  I do.

I feel it in the happy step of an animal connecting with their human.

Do you know joy?  You should.
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Rear View Mirror

10/27/2013

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I expect him to pass her by. 

He doesn't, and I should have seen it comin'.  My older brother, Joe, never missed an opportunity to tease me.  Then again, he didn't pass up a chance to flirt with a pretty girl, either.

"Cut it out, Joe!"  I growl through gritted teeth.  Heat creeps up from my neck to my cheeks, and the sprinkling of freckles there fade into red.  There's only so far I can shimmy down in the Model A's bench seat to hide myself from her sight.  I'd like very much to slug my brother for his fooling. 

"Hey, Toots!"  He calls out the open window to the dark-haired girl walking behind our car.  "Want a ride?"

She doesn't even give him the satisfaction of looking our direction, which, in a way, makes his grin broaden.  Instead, she trains her deep brown eyes on the gravel immediately before her own two feet.  We all know that even if she wanted to ride with a troublemaker like my brother or mortified me, she'd have to pass it by her daddy.  Besides, she's nearly reached her destination and doesn't need our kind of help, if you could call it that. 

I steal a peek in the mirror and watch her curls bob in time with her determined march.  If I wasn't so mad at Joe, I'd thank him for giving me more time with her.  Not that we ever really spent time together.  My brothers and I watched her walk past our house on her way to her job at the golf course all the time.  They watched, maybe, but I salivated.   Someday I'd work up the nerve to ask her on a proper date, but today wasn't going to be that day, thanks to my obnoxious brother.
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Last Day On Earth

4/8/2013

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If it were my last day on earth I would dream under the stars.
I would lay down in the grass and let the sun warm my skin.
I would cherish each breath of air as it weaves through my hair.
I would sing along with the familiar melodies of the birds.

If it were my last day on earth I would lose my way in the trees.
I would splash and play in the dancing waters.
I would shift and slide amongst the soft grains of sand.
I would drench myself with the afternoon rain. 

If it were my last day on earth I would wrap your arms around me.
I would bathe in the trickle of our falling tears.
I would wish you remember me fondly long after I go.
I would want you to know you made each day worth living.

When you think of me, with tears or laughter, know that I am thinking of you and sending love in the gentle ways I know how.

(For Mariah)
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