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Meet My Character 

10/11/2014

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I was tagged by my friend, author Laura Brown in the Writerly Meme.  I'm sure that most of you reading this have no idea what this is about, so here it is:  I've been given a list of questions to answer about the main character from my latest novel.  Even though it's not my latest novel, I'm going to go ahead and switch gears from my Middle Grade books to my upcoming Young Adult release, IN THE MIDDLE.   I'm currently on the third round of edits for this book, and hope to have it out by Christmas.  


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Tina Fey.... love.

1. What is the name of your character? Is he/she fictional or a historic person?
Lucy (never Lucille!), and she's definitely fictional.

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Thanks to TheStyleUnderground.Wattpad.com
2. When and where is the story set?
This is definitely contemporary.  Mainly, the story takes place in a small, one stoplight kind of town called Mitte.  To the eye, Mitte looks quaint and homey, but something sinister lingers in the shadows.

3. What should we know about him/her?
Lucy lost her parents in an accident, and also struggles with a handful of leftover aches and pains herself. She doesn't have much to call her own, and she doesn't belong anywhere else.  Lucy's only in Mitte because her one remaining relative lives there.

4. What is the main conflict? What messes up his/her life?
The main conflict, I'd say, is that Lucy really struggles with the circumstances surrounding her family's accident... and she doesn't know why she's in this awful little town and why people keep disappearing. 


I wouldn't say that he messes up her life, necessarily, but her friendship with a guy named Oliver changes a lot of things for Lucy.  

5. What is the personal goal of the character?
I've already said as much, but her goal is to figure out how to get out of Mitte.

6. Is there a working title for this novel, and can we read more about it?
Currently, the title is IN THE MIDDLE. I haven't written much about it on my website, but there are a few blog posts smattered here and there. That's all I have to share right now, but stay tuned!

7. When can we expect the book to be published? 
Fingers crossed, by December of this year.  The story needs a little bit more work, but really the biggest obstacle, now, is designing a book cover. The book is the easy part, but the cover... YIKES!

I don't have anyone to tag for you right now, but I will update this post if I do!
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First Glimpse of Frozen Hearts

9/25/2014

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I'm super-excited to share with you today!  I've invited one of my buddies, Topaz, from my Sky Writers critique group, to reveal the cover of her upcoming Young Adult novel.  It's called FROZEN HEARTS, and it's going to be an ahhhh-mazing must-read.  


For the record, I think Topaz is one of the most talented writers (and all-around person) I know. And--get this!--she's a teenager. I'm pretty sure she's tired of people pointing that out, but it gives me hope for when my teenager puts off his homework in favor of everything else under the sun. Some kids write and have goals. It could happen to him, too.  Heehee.


Okay, on to FROZEN HEARTS. Feast on its loveliness, won't you?

Frozen Hearts

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Do you want to build a snowman?
“Rose, don’t try to tell me what’s real or not real. I live and breathe impossibilities.”

Rosalyn Lawrence is not the type of girl who strays from the norm. She’s not the type of girl who goes on whirlwind adventures or travels across the world and beyond or fights fire-breathing dragons to the death. After all, fairytales exist only in books, and Rosalyn is happy to keep it that way.

But when her beloved little brother Benjamin disappears, Rosalyn’s entire world comes crashing down. Then a boy with a wand climbs through her window and she learns that the grieving queen of a shockingly desolate enchanted land has abducted Benjamin. If she chooses to be sucked into the magic of this land, its power – and the power of an enemy she isn’t quite sure even exists – could destroy her.

 A world of frozen fantasy is waiting for Rosalyn – and if she will succeed in bringing Benjamin home, she must learn how to trust herself, use her wits, and perhaps discover an inner magic she never knew she had.

Excerpt

Rosalyn woke in the middle of the night.

Her head was clouded, cobwebs of sleep still lingering, a fog drifting over her senses. The surface she was lying on was soft. As she sat up she saw a figure, not quite near enough to touch, motionless on the floor. She couldn’t seem to recall his name.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness she realised that his shirt was off and his back was to her, bare in the soft moonlight. She looked out the window. The stars seemed to glisten, impossibly dense confetti scattered over the blanket of night. The moon hung suspended as if from a child’s mobile.

She stood, moving closer to the figure on the floor. The rise and fall of his chest was almost imperceptible. His face was still just out of her line of sight, his name still just out of the grasp of her slumber-clouded memory.

In the moonlight she caught a glimpse of something on his back. Her fingers glided down to it and she traced it, feather light, afraid for reasons she could not fathom of waking him. The scar joined another and another, until all at once she realised that she was connecting a veritable constellation of pain across the canvas of his back.

She gazed down at them. They were old, she could tell, but they still looked painful. The skin was gnarled, as if some heavenly hand had reached down, ripped it off of his back, and then bunched it up and pasted it haphazardly back on – and she knew she should be horrified at the sight, knew she should be pitying him or turning away in revulsion, yet she could not bring herself to. All she felt was the inherent need to know: how had he gotten them? Did they still hurt?

Was Chase all right?

And there was his name, pulled from the graveyard of her memory: Chase. A boy with a crooked smile and a secret she’d never been meant to discover.

Somewhere in the back of her mind a deep voice with a cold accent surfaced, murmuring something about his father. What had he told her? She struggled to remember, and finally it hit her. “Let’s just say he wasn’t the best role model,” the voice had said.

The gashes were long healed, yet so deep, so thick and ragged that she almost didn’t want to think about who might have put them there – his father? she wondered, and then wished the thought had never crossed her mind.

She couldn’t bear to look at them for a moment longer. Turning away from his pockmarked body, she glanced up at the stars once more before climbing back into the small cot and letting sleep overtake her – an uneasy sleep, riddled with nightmares of long, thin sticks of ice, dark men and evil laughter, unbearable pain lacing through her back. This time the stars did not look like confetti, but teardrops.

In the morning, she would have no memory of her nighttime awakening.

And the boy lying across from her would never tell her that his eyes had been open the whole time. 

About Topaz Winters

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Topaz Winters is a songbird, word hoarder, and cheesecake connoisseur. Sometimes she composes music. Other times she writes books. If she knows you, she’s probably written about you. Topaz’s debut novel, Frozen Hearts, drops this year, and her first album in 2015. She enjoys strong coffee, ugly cats, and the taste of words. 

Topaz rambles about writing, music, and the meaning of life over at her website.
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Middle School Time Warp With Krysten Lindsay Hager

9/8/2014

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In honor of kids everywhere returning to the hallowed halls of learning, or whatever, I've invited my homegirl Krysten Lindsay Hager over to play a game of Truth or Dare. Well, mostly it's a game of Truth, as she's taking us back to her middle school days with her rad answers.

If you haven't met Krysten before, she's the totally tubular author of TRUE COLORS. TRUE COLORS is about middle-schooler Landry and her group of friends, and the totally outrageous things that happen when Landry ends up on a modeling reality t.v. show. Let's just say, it's not pretty! Middle-schoolers and middle-schoolers at heart will relate to (and cringe along with) Landry and her frenemies.  


You can find TRUE COLORS on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iBooks, Kobo, and just about anywhere digital books are sold.
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You should totally buy this book. Everyone's doing it, it's no big deal.
Now, for a little Truth or Dare...

Always on time or always late?
Oh, I can’t lie. Late. I could have used a Harry Potter invisibility cloak to slip into class unnoticed. In my book, my character Landry always just slips in the door after the bell and that was totally me.

Teacher’s pet, worst nightmare, or fly beneath the radar? Tried to fly under the radar. I can’t say I was a nightmare or anything, but really tried to stay out of the line of vision.

Buy lunch or bring lunch? Bought my lunch. I don’t know if anyone else remembers this from my school, but the cookies always tasted like they weren’t really baked. They ruined chocolate chip cookies for me for years and I never cared for cookie dough ice cream because I didn’t  get the appeal of cookie dough. I am pleased to report I never got salmonella and died from those.

Be honest--grafitti on the desk, on the notebook, or both?  (Bonus points if also on the bathroom stall door.  Bonus points if you don’t tell anyone I’m giving you bonus points for defacing school property.) I went to a strict private school and they would have removed my hands for defacing school property. I did write all over my Trapper Keeper (Mrs. Jon Knight, Mrs. Troy Aikman, Mrs. George Michael.) But in high school, I wrote all on my desk during a math test. We were supposed to do math in our heads, but that just wasn’t  going to happen.

Favorite Spirit Week dress-up day? The school colors were blue and gold and the uniform colors were navy and white—I look awful in all of those colors, so really that did nothing for my school spirit. It might have even broken it a little. Landry says she looks like a dead goldfish in her school uniform colors and I second that for myself.

High school mascot? It was a bobcat. In middle school it was a panther. I think a panther could take a bobcat in a fight.

Most embarrassing school memory? I once walked into school with a Velcro roller still stuck in my hair. Not my finest hour.

Worst class ever? Anything with math.

Did you play any sports?  If yes, what? Does shopping count? What about lip gloss applying?

Favorite after-school activity?  (Bonus points if it involves “After School Special” and you can remember the specific name.) I took dance classes. There may or may not be a video somewhere of me  in a and Minnie Mouse costume dancing to “Hey Mickey,” when I was twelve. I was tall and let’s just say I looked older than twelve and the costume looks positively obscene on me. I never thought anyone would see it, but one of the girls in the number went on to be a Rockette or something and they ran that performance of all things on the news because of her. I thought no one would recognize me with my mouse ears, but I got phone calls. I still cringe over that one.

Tell us about your first middle-school boyfriend.  (Bonus points if he pegged his pants or had a rat tail.) I think I can accept those bonus points for the pants. He was at least a foot shorter than me and he went to a different school so I felt so cosmopolitan.

Favorite band?  The Bangles were my fave in sixth grade and their Everything cover inspired the characters: Landry, Peyton, Devon, and India.

Compare your middle-school hairstyle to an animal.  Be creative.  (For example, if you sported a mohawk, you could say “skunk” or “porcupine” or something else mohawk-y because that’s all my brain is coming up with right now.  Bonus points for a photo of said hairdo.) Probably skunky because there was an unfortunate moment with Sun-In in the 7th grade. However, if you keep up with the Sun-In and the excessive blow drying it will turn dark brown hair from orange to gold to a sickly wheat color.

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Krysten then. I love the Glamour Shots pose.
Celebrity crush? Oh wow, how much time do you have? I liked George Michael for years, Jon Knight, Troy Aikman, Grant Hill, Jalen Rose…those are the ones I remember and am willing to own up to. 

Fashion must-have? In middle school we were limited to what we could wear, so bracelets were my go-to for my school uniform (particularly friendship bracelets and bangles), but in high school I was obsessed with Versace jeans. In middle school I owned that Esprit purse that every single girl in my zip code had. I think at one point is was illegal not to own it. I didn’t even like it because I thought it was boring and I wrote a short story about that stupid bag.

About Krysten 

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Krysten now, no Sun-In
Krysten Lindsay Hager is an author and book addict. She is originally from Michigan and has lived in South Dakota, Portugal, and currently resides in Southern Ohio where you can find her reading and writing when she’s not catching up on her favorite shows (like Hart of Dixie, The Goldbergs, Dallas, and Devious Maids.) She’s worked as a journalist and humor writer, and also writes middle grade, YA, and adult fiction. You can find her work in the Patchwork Path anthologies: Friendship Star, and also Grandma's Choice and in several of the Country Comfort Cookbooks as well as many humor essays and news articles. Her debut novel, TRUE COLORS, was released by Astraea Press this summer. You can see what she’s reading and reviewing at the Book Foodies blog

Connect With Krysten

Website
Facebook
Twitter
Goodreads

And don't forget to enter the Rafflecopter giveaway to win a copy of Mindy Mymudes' GEORGE KNOWS or my DANIEL THE DRAW-ER! Only a few more days to share and enter!
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Collected Works - September '14 Goals

9/2/2014

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Last month I linked up with a few of my fellow writers in the spirit of taking names and kickin' writerly butt.  Or setting goals, at least.  


It seemed like a great idea at the time, setting all of these awesome writing goals while four children terrorized each other in the other room.  And I taught pony camp, and all of the other odd things that make up my life.
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Rookie mistake, I know. Photo Credit: 20th Century Fox
How quaint and naive I was!  Not that the kids were hellions or anything, but I also didn't account for the biggest kid of them all--my main character Daniel.  My novella has continued to balloon into something out of my control.  


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I'm not even mad... that's amazing!
So let's take a look at August's goals and weep a little, shall we?
    August 2014 Goals
    • Finish first draft of DANIEL THE DRAW-ER 2. NOT COMPLETED. CURRENTLY AT 36,106 WORDS WITH AT LEAST TWO SCENES LEFT TO WRITE.
    • Edit half of DANIEL THE DRAW-ER 2. NOT COMPLETE BECAUSE, WELL, I CAN'T EDIT WHAT I'M STILL WRITING.  
    • Complete and submit flash fiction for anthology. COMPLETE!

    One out of three ain't bad, right? On the bright side, at least I've managed to add 13k more to the story in the past month. That's better than doing zip, zero, nada 

    September 2014 Goals
      • Finish first draft of DANIEL THE DRAW-ER 2. 
      • Edit half of DANIEL THE DRAW-ER 2. 
      • Begin working on cover art for DANIEL THE DRAW-ER 2.

    Not much change in my goals this month, but these are still my focus! Feel free to cheer me on in the comments section of this post, or check in on me via Twitter or Facebook. While you're at it, drop by Kathryn, Justin, and Marisa's blogs to cheer them on, too.

    If you'd like to join in, please click the "Collected Works" photo below and add yourself in there!
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Triple Threat or Double Trouble?  Interview with Jo Noelle

9/1/2014

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Today I'm happy to host author Jo Noelle... or should I say authors Jo Noelle? Jo Noelle is the pen name of a mother and daughter writing team made up of Canda Mortensen and Deanna Henderson (Hey, Deanna!  Cool last name!).  While some ladies write and publish one book at a time, today I'm floored to announce three, count 'em, THREE brand new releases by this duo.  

First, let's learn a little bit about Canda and Deanna (collectively Jo Noelle, remember). Then we'll move onto each of the three books, and give readers a chance to enter a super-fantastic giveaway for $100 Amazon Gift Card (swooooooon!). Grab your favorite drink and let's get down to some serious girl talk. 

Interview

1. What music do you like?

Deanna: I don’t know how to answer that. Do you mean today? I listen to everything, rock, classical, rap, alternative, opera. And I know the words and sing along—with the opera songs sometimes I sing gibberish until I know the words again.

Canda: Rock. I like rock. Not soft rock—it’s not really rock. I like alternative too. My favorite bands are (in order of their appearance in my life) KISS, Aerosmith, (I really liked the BeeGees but I’ll deny it in public), Nirvana, Good Charlotte, and Linkin Park.

2. What kind of books do you like?

Deanna: I like “issue” book. I like self-helpy books. I like YA romance and Chick-lit. Oh and travel books especially the ones with itineraries that tell you what to eat where and give you maps.

Canda: I like snarky characters, romance is the story not the subplot, and paranormal is a big plus. I hate contemporary literary fiction. Gahhh! Too many issues to deal with in my spare time.

3. What is your favorite snack?

Deanna: chocolate covered macadamia nut with caramel cluster things you buy at Costco.

Canda: Peanut M&Ms

4. Teaser for your book in one sentence?

Falling in love is easy in fiction--in high school, not so much.

5. What is your writing process?

We make an outline, chuck it out the window before chapter 2, we argue, negotiate, plead, pout, sometimes threaten to quit. Then we compromise and keep writing. And we laugh a lot.

6. What was your road to publication like?

We wrote the books, rewrote them a few times, got lots of feedback, rewrote them again, sent them to an editor, rewrote, another editor, rewrote.


7. Favorite dessert?

Deanna: Muddy Buddies

Canda: chocolate mousse

About the Books

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Lexi’s Pathetic Fictional Love Life

Lexi Middleton has been socially invisible to her classmates, but starting her junior year, that’s going to change. First, she’s determined to hook a boyfriend, ensuring dates with flowers and possible kisses on the doorstep. Second, she wants to be a writer for the school paper, even though it freaks her out to think of everyone judging her by her punctuation and metaphors. High school is difficult enough—keeping up her grades, dealing with increasing sibling rivalry, and trying to stay out of the way of her personal nemesis, Amberlee—but when Lexi catches the eye of her long-time crush, she also becomes the focus of mean-girl tactics. Caught between who she was and who she wants to be, Lexi must decide how to confront a bully, and choose who to let into her heart.


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Damnation


Cassie is going to heaven—if she can get amnesty from hell in the next twenty days.  Her assignment is to change the eternal destination of a girl in Albuquerque to earn admittance into heaven.

            No sweat.

But when Cassie returns to earth during her three-week, mostly-mortal assignment, her old habits get in the way, (apparently habits don’t die when you do), the partners assigned to help her are anything but helpful, and it turns out the girl she is supposed to help is the only enemy she made on her first day of school.

            Oh, I’m so going to hell.

Things aren’t all bad—it helps to have a hot angel on your side. Mmm-Marc. Even though he’s all about heavenly business, Cassie would like to make it personal.

            Assignment with benefits.



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Newbie


The housing market is crashing, and Sophie’s life is crashing with it. At twenty-four, her successful real estate career evaporates. She’s broke, can’t find a job, or pay her bills, leaving Sophie wondering how her successful lifestyle became so fragile.

At the urging of her roommate, Sophie accepts a job in her fallback career—teaching six-year-olds. She hopes it’s temporary. After all, how long can a tanking economy last anyway? The best part of the new job is Liam, another employee at Rio Grande Elementary. The worst part of the new job is, well, teaching.

Sophie has a surprise real estate closing from a contract she wrote months ago, leading her to a niche in the real estate market and to a new partner, Kevin. Sophie must choose between Liam or Kevin and between a lucrative career or recess duty.

Meet Jo Noelle

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Jo Noelle grew up in Colorado and Utah but also spent time in Idaho and California. She has two adult children and three small kids.

She teaches teachers and students about reading and writing, grows freakishly large tomatoes, enjoys cooking especially for desserts, builds furniture, sews beautiful dresses, and likes to go hiking in the nearby mountains.

Oh, and by the way, she’s two people—Canda Mortensen and Deanna Henderson, a mother/daughter writing team.

Enter Jo Noelle's Rafflecopter Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Connect with Jo Noelle and  Get Your Own Copies

Amazon Author Page
Facebook
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Website

BUY ON AMAZON  

Newbie  
Damnation 
Lexi’s Pathetic Fictional Love Life  

Visit the Other Blog Hop Participants!

1. Procrastination Station
2. Lala's Books
3. Weaving a Tale or Two
4. Adrienne Monson
5. S. J. Henderson, Author  (MOI!)
6. Lindzee Armstrong/Lydia Winters
7. Renae's Writespot
8. Author, Julie L. Casey
9. Christy Dorrity
10. Writing Robin
11. Jordan McCollum
12. Lisa Swinton, Queen of Random
13. Word Paintings Unlimited, Author Sherry Gammon
14. Cortney Pearson
15. Canda's InkBlast

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Teens, Time Travel, and Timekeepers... Oh My!

8/20/2014

6 Comments

 
Let's give a big welcome to my friend Sharon Ledwith, who is not only a fantastic writer, but also the lady to have on your side while learning about writing and promoting books.  I've learned a lot from her in the short time we've known one another, and I'm proud to be able to share a little bit about her newest release.  So, buckle up those safety belts, kiddos.  Here we go...
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Legend of the Timekeepers

There is no moving forward without first going back.

Lilith was a young girl with dreams and a family before the final destruction of Atlantis shattered those dreams and tore her family apart. Now refugees, Lilith and her father make their home in the Black Land. This strange, new country has no place in Lilith’s heart until a beloved high priestess introduces Lilith to her life purpose—to be a Timekeeper and keep time safe.

Summoned through the seventh arch of Atlantis by the Children of the Law of One, Lilith and her newfound friends are sent into Atlantis’s past, and given a task that will ultimately test their courage and try their faith in each other. Can the Timekeepers stop the dark magus Belial before he changes the seers’ prophecy? If they fail, then their future and the earth’s fate will be altered forever.

Excerpt

“Why are you here?” Lilith asked. “You’ve already got your life seal.” 

“I have more questions for Istulo.” She continued to stare at the disk. 

Lilith sighed. “My name is Lilith. What’s your name?” 

Her shoulders relaxed slightly. A hint of a smile broke out on her face. Her upturned nose wiggled. “She-Aba. I was born here in the Black Land. Both my parents arrived from Atlantis fourteen years ago yesterday. My mother gave birth to me the next day.”

Lilith perked up. “That would make today your birthday!”

She-Aba beamed. “Yes. That’s why I’m here. For my birthday last year, I had my life reading done by Istulo. But recently, there’s been a hiccup in my plans. It’s like my life seal rearranged itself, and now I’m confused. I’m here for a reaffirmation.” 

“What’s the problem?” 

She-Aba traced her life seal with the tip of her perfectly shaped fingernail. “My lifetime occupation was supposed to be to design clothing for the people of the various positions in the court and temples.” 

Lilith smirked. “That makes perfect sense.” 

“I know, right? So why, all of a sudden, would my life seal change from designing clothing to something completely different?” 

Lilith arched a fair brow. “How different?” 

“Well, instead of clothing people in lavish robes and gowns for others to appreciate, the seal suggests that I’ll be doing the opposite by covering up and hiding the truth. I don’t understand it at all. I thought my life was all planned out for me.” 

“I thought mine was too, until my country blew up and slid into the ocean,” Lilith muttered. 

“Hey, look at the bright side, at least your hair isn’t red like mine.” 

Lilith eyed She-Aba carefully. “What’s wrong with red hair? My uncle has red hair and it suits him fine.” 

She-Aba moved in closer. “If you haven’t noticed already, there aren’t many redheads around here. The natives think red is magical, and anyone with red hair is considered a freak of nature.” 

“That’s ridiculous!” Lilith said loud enough to cause an echo down the marble hallway. “Is that the reason why those artists were rude to you? Because you have red hair?” 

“Red is a very powerful color,” a raspy voice said from behind both girls. 

Lilith and She-Aba jumped. They slowly turned to find Istulo hovering over them. 

Wearing the same white gown and orichalcum headband Lilith saw her dressed in before, Istulo nodded slightly before she said, “Red represents the essence of life—if we are drained of blood, we are drained of energy. The people of the Black Land understand this, and therefore red is reserved only for their gods and goddesses.” 

Lilith giggled. “Don’t tell She-Aba that, she’ll think she’s a goddess.” 

About the Author

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Sharon Ledwith is the author of the middle-grade/YA time travel series, THE LAST TIMEKEEPERS, available through Musa Publishing, and is represented by Walden House (Books & Stuff) for her teen psychic series, MYSTERIOUS TALES FROM FAIRY FALLS. When not writing, researching, or revising, she enjoys reading, yoga, anything arcane, and an occasional dram of scotch. Sharon lives a serene, yet busy life in a tourist region of Ontario, Canada, with her hubby, one spoiled yellow Labrador and a moody calico cat.

Learn more about Sharon Ledwith on her WEBSITE and BLOG. Look up her AMAZON AUTHOR page for a list of current books. Stay connected on FACEBOOK, TWITTER, GOOGLE+, TUMBLR, and GOODREADS. Check out THE LAST TIMEKEEPERS TIME TRAVEL SERIES Facebook page.

Buy Legends of the Timekeepers

Musa Publishing
Amazon
Barnes & Noble 
Smashwords
Kobo 
Apple 
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Kibble Talk

8/18/2014

2 Comments

 
Mondays are ruff.  I mean, really ruff.  Oh... I mean, rough.  
I wish someone would just throw me a bone and it could be Friday all over again.  Oops, I did it again.  Sorry.  I've been reading Cynthia Port's book, KIBBLE TALK, and now I can't stop thinking like a dog.


KIBBLE TALK is a silly, snarky little book that kids and adults will enjoy.  Keep reading for a little bit more about the book and Cynthia Port, KIBBLE TALK's awesome author!    
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Once Tawny decides to do something, there’s no holding her back. So when her best friend Jenny dares her to eat dog kibble, down it goes. Little does she know how that dusty, tasteless lump will change her life. Suddenly she can hear what dogs have to say and talk back to them too! This might not be such a big deal, except that her own dog, an enormous Great Dane named Dinky, has a LOT to say. He lets her know right away that his fondest dream is to be a teeny tiny lap dog. Tawny promises to help him, and her life nearly goes to the dogs. A story about friendship and family, Book 1 in the Kibble Talk series will have everyone howling with laugher. Perfect for readers 7 to 12 or as a read aloud.

Excerpt

Diving under my bed covers, I told myself over and over, “This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. This is NOT happening.” 

“Oh, but it is,” Dinky said with a lazy sigh. I felt him slump into a giant pile at the side of my bed. “Can I have my scratch now?”

I couldn’t believe I could hear another dog talking—and it was my own dog! I was also surprised at the type of voice Dinky had. Gunner had sounded like he should, which is an odd thing to say in the first place since we are talking about how a dog sounds talking. But Gunner looks sort of gross and gravelly and sounded that way. By that logic, Dinky’s voice should have been very deep and maybe elegant or something, like the prime minister of a fancy European country. It wasn’t though. Dinky’s voice was high pitched like a little kid, almost a squeak. His voice was, well, dinky.

“I can’t help my voice,” he squeaked at me. “Now get up and give me my scratch! Your mom and dad are on couch potato duty. That makes it your turn to entertain.”

I screwed up my courage and peeked one eye out from under my blanket. There was Dinky, staring at me with his usual huge, walnut-brown doggy eyes. I was about to dive to the bottom of my bed and never resurface when I thought of a way to test whether all of this was really happening.

“How do I know I’m not just imagining I can hear you talking?” I asked him nervously. “You haven’t said anything I couldn’t have made up myself.”

“Fair enough. Let’s see then,” he said, and gave his triangle ears an impressive waggle. “Oh, I know!" he said after a moment. "Your dad did NOT just find Fishy Fish dead one day in his bowl. He was changing the water and accidentally used hot instead of cold.”

I threw back the covers as I gasped in surprise. “What? He did? And he didn’t tell me about it? Are you sure?”

“I may be a talking dog, but I’m no liar. I saw the little orange guy go belly up, cooked like instant oatmeal. Then I had to listen to your dad’s guilty thoughts for weeks. He still thinks about it whenever your mom serves fish sticks.”

I shook my head in wonder. This was news I definitely couldn't have made up on my own, meaning that this talking dog thing might be legit.

“So . . . so you dogs are just thinking and listening all the time? Gunner said . . .” I started to ask.

“Gunner?" Dinky said, interrupting me. "Ugh. I’m sure he was a cute puppy, but that dog has let himself go.”

“He says he’d like a bath now and then, but they won’t give him one,” I snapped.

Dinky gave me that head-tilted, ear-raised, eyebrow-scrunched dog look. “If you’re gonna start taking Gunner’s side in things, in anything, I’m not sharing any of my dog food with you,” he said, and started to get up.

“Sharing any of your . . . hold on . . . was it really the dog food that did this to me? Is that why I can hear you?”

Dinky lay back down. “They say it’s happened before, but I figured it was just dog legend. Some of us have some imaginations, I tell you! Something about a Dr. who could talk to the animals . . .”

“Dr. Doolittle?”

“You’ve heard of him too? Maybe it is true then . . .” Dinky mused, almost to himself. He started whipping his long bony tail against my hardwood floor, deep in thought. “We don’t know what causes it, but we know that when someone makes an honest effort to see what it’s like to be somebody else, they can understand them better. Sometimes it can go a bit further than that. When you ate Gunner’s food, what were you thinking about?”

“What it would be like to be a dog and have to eat that boring stuff all the time.”

“Just as I suspected,” Dinky said, closing his eyes and nodding his huge head in a knowing sort of way.

  “What do you suspect?” I asked, moving to sit at the edge of my bed.

“When you ate the kibble and let yourself have a real glimpse of what it means to be Gunner, unpleasant as that had to have been, your brain must have opened up a new door, so to speak, so you could hear us the way we can hear you.”

“And can you hear all humans? What we say? What we’re thinking?”

“We do eat your food, you know—table scraps anyway, and we’re pretty much always thinking about what it would be like to be you. So, as long as we keep getting human food, we can still hear you.”

“Ah ha! That’s why dogs beg so much!” I said, slapping my knee in self-congratulation.

Dinky snorted. “Not so fast, Dogologist! I believe you tasted the kibble? That is why we beg so much. Hearing human thoughts gets very boring, very quickly, but not as boring as eating dusty tasteless kibble for breakfast, brunch, lunch, second lunch, post-lunch snack, pre-dinner snack, dinner, second dinner, second and a half dinner, post-dinner snack and bedtime snack.”

“You left out dessert.”

“Oh no, never eat dessert. Wouldn’t want to get fat. Now, I am ready for my scratch and then I have to go sniff the cat’s behind or she’ll think I forgot her. She’s impossible when she thinks I’ve forgotten her.”

We have a cat too, named Fisher. My dad, I now knew, had murdered the thing she used to enjoy fishing for, but Fisher was still her name. She’s a pretty thing, soft and white and fluffy, but not particularly friendly. In the winter when the house is chilly, I sometimes feel her slinky little body leaned up against me at night. But by morning she’s always gone, off to find a bit of sunlight warming up a cat-sized area of carpet for her. She rarely bothers to look at us, and never asks to be petted or picked up.

“Come on, scratcher-girl, enough talking,” Dinky said.

'No, don't go," I said. "I want to keep talking to you."

“We can talk some more tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day after that.”

Now, if I’d had any clue about the amount of trouble I was in for, I might have stopped talking to Dinky that very instant. But right then, I could have talked to him all night. That is, if my head hadn’t suddenly become as heavy as a bowling ball stuck to the end of a wet noodle. Something about running away from your best friend’s sleepover because you found out you can hear dogs talk, and vice versa, and then discovering once and for all that your parents are just plain old parents, with the exception that your dad is both a fish assassin and a liar, makes a girl super tired, apparently.

I gave Dinky a good scratching, and then he clickety-clicked right out of my room. He didn’t even say goodnight.

About the Author

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I live in Indiana with my husband, two daughters, and a head full of stories. When I was a kid, I told all my joys and sorrows to the dogs, cats, birds, fish, guinea pigs, lizards, hermit crabs, etc. that shared my home, and I secretly hoped they understood. The dog in Kibble Talk, the first book in my Kibble Talk series, was inspired by my dog Kodiak, a cuddly 150 pound Alaskan Malamute who truly believed that her head was a lap dog.  Book two in the series, Dog Gone Dinky, was inspired by my parents dog.  He was sweet, but whenever I petted him my hand came away with so much grease it felt like my freckles would slip right off.  Dog grease. Oog.

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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.. 
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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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Interview With Author Monique Bucheger

8/10/2014

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Today we're talking to Monique Bucheger, a fellow Middle Grade author.  Monique has written four books in her Ginnie West series, with more to come.  Her main character, Ginnie, is a horse lover, so it's no big surprise that I'm interested to learn more!  Let's get started!

Meet Monique

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Welcome, Monique!  Let's get to know you a little bit better. How long have you been a writer? 
I started writing as a teen, but got refocused about 7 years ago.

Who are your favorite authors? 

I like a lot of authors and read many genres. In historical fiction I like Pauline Toohey (Call of the Yew Tree), David Farland (In the Company of Angels), Michelle Isenhoff, (The Candle Star). Jennifer Holms (Our Only May Amelia). In contemporary realistic fiction (which I write) I love Beverly Cleary (The Ramona series) and Judy Blume (Are You there, God? It’s me, Margaret, & such as well as her Fudge series). I love fantasy as well and loved David Farland’s Nightingale and Terry Brooks’ Magic Kingdom: For Sale, Sold. I tend to concentrate lately on middle grade novels. Mikey Brooks (The Dream Keeper series) and Ali Cross’s (The Swift and Jump Boys) are great.

What are your hobbies? 

I love to scrapbook and write.

If you could live anywhere in the universe, where would you live? 

I am considering moving to Utah—they have some amazing writing conferences there and it is a family friendly state—important because I have 12 kids.

Besides writer, what’s your dream job? 

Hmmm, something that would free up more time for writing.  

How did you come up with the idea for “Being West is Best”? 

Being West is Best is the 4th book of my Ginnie West series. It is the culmination of a few plotlines I have weaved through the first 3 books with a HUGE twist. The twist is the basis of Being West is Best.

What was the most difficult part of publishing “Being West is Best”? 

Writing some very touching, difficult scenes. I deal with tough subjects like child abuse, spouse abuse, child abandonment, and personal accountability.

In a middle grade series, you have to write these things in an age appropriate manner and for me personally—I want to send a message that abuse in any form is wrong, but I also want to send a message that redemption is possible. It gets a little tricky when you try to separate an ugly act from a person who regrets behaving badly.

Some acts are inexcusable—but if someone realizes they are wrong and wants to make amends for their bad behavior, how do you balance the desire to try to fix past wrongs without making the bad act palatable or demeaning the person who was wronged by it?

What’s your best piece of advice to share with other writers? Write what you are passionate about in a story you would want to read. Others will want to read it too.

Story characters sometimes resemble their creators.  Do any of the characters in “Being West is Best” resemble you? 

Both Ginnie and Tillie have personality traits of mine—and traits I wish I had more of. Ginnie is a fun-loving girl who likes to try new things. Tillie is a little timid, but has a huge heart. I would love to embrace new adventures as easily as Ginnie does.

In “Being West is Best”, the two main characters of the story, best friends Ginnie and Tillie, become matchmakers so their parents will fall in love with each other.  What’s the biggest scheme you and your friends ever tried to pull off? 

Hmmm. I called my best friend as a teen and asked her this and we both drew a blank as to our own scheming. Then she pointed out that between school, extra-curricular activities, trying to write the next great American novel, that we didn’t actually have time to plot out our own schemes, preferring to plot out Ginnie’s (even 30 years ago when I created her) and whatever other character’s schemes we had at the time. I was more like Tillie on the outside and Ginnie on the inside in those days.  

You mentioned that “Being West is Best” is part of a series.  Are you working on more Ginnie West books currently?

I am working on Book 5—unnamed at the moment. It will be very different than the 4 previous books as it will take place at a new school—one that promotes equestrian sports. Readers of my previous books will be surprised at this turn of events because Ginnie’s mom died when she was 3 years old after being thrown from her horse and Ginnie’s dad has always forbidden her to trick ride or otherwise compete on her horse. It will also have an interesting twist tied to a national event. 


I am also working on a second series. It is a family drama about a 19 year old boy who is orphaned who takes on raising his 4 younger siblings. I hope to have the first book out sometime this year.

I'd love it if you would tell us a little bit about your other books.
Book #1 is “The Secret Sisters Club”— and has been described as Parent Trap Meets American Girl. The girls scheme to get Ginnie’s dad to date Tillie’s mom. Which is fine—until Ginnie stumbles across her dead mom’s journals and wants to know more about her.

Book #2 is called Trouble Blows West—Ginnie gets on the wrong side of the biggest bully in 6th grade. When it turns out he needs help, Ginnie is determined to be his ally, because he won’t let her be his friend.

Book #3 is Simply West of Heaven: The girls are well on their way to sisterhood until a blast from Ginnie’s mom’s past threatens to upset all of their plans.

My 5th published book is a picture book called Popcorn. Readers will get a glimpse of the mom Ginnie barely remembers as Ginnie makes a late night snack and a ginormous mess. It is a funny, sweet story that showcases Ginnie and her twin brother, Toran, at 3 ½.

Thank you for your time, and good luck on your tour! 

Thanks so much for having me. It has been fun.

More about "Being West is Best"

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Twelve-year-old BFFs, Ginnie West and Tillie Taylor, are matchmaking geniuses. Together, they maneuvered Ginnie’s widower-dad into proposing to Tillie’s divorcee-mom. Sweet! Certain they are well on their way to sisterhood, each girl is floored when Tillie’s lousy-excuse-for-a-father puts in an appearance after a six year absence. Too bad “lousy dad repellant” doesn’t come in a can. Even though Tillie’s dad has sobered up and is determined to make amends, Tillie would rather he just disappear again. If he stays, “Operation: Secret Sisters” may need to be renamed “Operation: Not Gonna Happen.” If that’s not bad enough, the biggest bully in seventh grade comes over often and wishes he could call the West’s farmhouse “home.” When the bully’s abusive dad shows up as well, Ginnie thinks it’s time to change her family’s motto from “When you’re here, you’re family” to “There’s no more room at the West’s".


Connect With Monique

Follow the links below to connect with Monique Bucheger, Author of Ginnie West Adventures Series

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Good Book Day

6/1/2014

1 Comment

 
A local fourth-grade teacher read Daniel the Draw-er to her class recently, and invited me in to talk with her kids. I had no idea what I was doing going into this thing, but my friend Courtney helped me make bookmarks and I ordered extra copies of my book.  Just. In. Case.

Last night I went to Kohl's to pick out a new shirt to wear.  It took me an hour.  How come the size I need in the shirt I like is always gone? Like, always.  So annoying.  And then I wake up and my friend texts me to ask if I want to wear my pajamas into the elementary school for my talk because it's pajama day at the school.
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Well, okay. I'll wear the cat pants... If you insist.
So I squeeze myself into my cat pants.  The picture isn't so great, but they are basically the best pants ever.  What's not to love about space cats?  On your legs!!  The lady in the office pauses a few seconds before deciding we probably aren't as shady as we appear in my cat pants and Courtney's owl jammies.  Muahahahaha!  My plan, she works!

While the teacher brings the kids back to the classroom, we admire the projects on the classroom walls.  "Who is your favorite character in DANIEL THE DRAW-ER? And why?" and " What would you draw if you had a magic pencil?"  Courtney's especially happy with these projects because one kid gave Octobear purple tentacles (which is totally crazy, because everyone knows they're green!).  I just think it's awesome because the kids had projects.  About MY book.   

I begin by telling the kids that I had, once upon a time, been a student in their elementary school; and when I wrote the playground scene from the book, I'd pictured their playground.  None of the play structures from my era remain on their current playground.  That's a little sad, but the kids think it's cool that their playground is famous.  And, of course, I tell them about the earthquake that cracked the sidewalk behind the school.  I forget to tell them about the petrified green been that's been clinging to the cafeteria ceiling for the past forty years, though.  Next time...

The teacher asks me about my writing process. I'll have to work on my answer for next time, because I don't think mine is currently all that great. She uses my answer to emphasize the importance of revising and having friends look over your work. Then she lets the kids ask questions.  

How did you come up with Whiskers?
Was Annie based on someone?
How do you make your characters sound different?
How do you think up these characters?
When did you publish your book? 

And, most importantly, will there be another book?

Yes, there will be another book.  <cheers>.  And when I hint about what Daniel's up to next, their hands shoot up with all of their ideas.  So many ideas, and several of them fall very close to what I have in mind. That's pretty impressive.

Then the kids--nearly 2/3 of the class--buy their books and I sign them.  Heck, Courtney even signs a few because the kids know she must be awesome, too (Duh! Owl jammies!).  Each of the kids receive a cool autographed bookmark because I wanted them to have something, even if they couldn't get a book.
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You know you want one.
After that, the kids start bringing me random things to sign.  I sign crumpled scraps of paper, a notebook cover, a pencil case, and I'm pretty sure a contract of some kind, but I'm not 100% on that last one.  A few kids ask me to write notes to their siblings.  One wants me to draw Octobear; another, Whiskers. That's a newbie mistake because then ALLLLLLL of the kids want me to draw something, and there just isn't enough time. I would've done it if there had been time.

Before the kids run off to lunch, one boy drops a note in front of me.  On his note, he thanks me for coming, then there's a sketch of the pencil from my book cover.  I flip the paper over (as instructed), and he's given me his phone number so I can call him when book #2 is finished.  



"Look!  I scored some digits!" I shout to Courtney and the teacher. That's so awesome.

One of the girls tells me she's going to frame my autograph.  "You're her favorite author," the teacher says.  Another boy agrees.  I'm someone's favorite author?  Someone who doesn't know me? Really? Is that possible?

I ask the teacher if I can donate a copy of "Daniel the Draw-er" to the school library, and she says sure, and she'll introduce me to the school librarian.  On the way to the library (and then the office, because the librarian isn't in the library), we pass a neatly-dressed woman exiting the school through the main doors.  I mean, this chick's in a dress, pearls, and heels--the whole nine.  She obviously didn't get the pajama memo.  


The teacher whispers, "that's the head of the township children's library.  Want me to introduce you?"  

Uh, yeah. I wanna meet ALLLLLL the book people. 

The poor prim and proper librarian looks confused by the lady in the totally awesome cat pants (me) handing her an unknown but equally awesome book.  It makes me smile just remembering it.  Oh, cat pants.  Making friends and influencing people, as always.


So, I'm going to go ahead and call that a huge success.

In other news, today I decided to celebrate my first author event by offering the Kindle version of "Daniel the Draw-er" for free for one day only.  So far, 544 people have downloaded it.  
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Resulting in this.
While I wish that meant royalties for me (on 544 copies!  Sweet), what it really means is more exposure for this fun story... maybe a few reviews.  But, really, the sharing is all I'm hoping for.  The more people who read Daniel's story, the more chances I have to make someone smile or prove that someone else can do what I've done.  

My sixth-grade self wouldn't have believed that one day I'd walk into my old elementary school wearing cat pants with my published book tucked under my arm.  
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