Cynthia Hand's Blog, page 9

YA Scavenger Hunt!

This year I am pleased as punch to be involved in the YA Scavenger Hunt. This is where a whole bunch of YA authors have ganged up to show off our bonus content, help our fans become acquainted with other fabulous YA authors, give away awesome prizes, and have a whole lot of fun in the process. Each of us will post some exclusive, never-before-seen content from another author (plus a mysterious word in red you'll need to win a big contest at the end) and a link to the next stop in the scavenger hunt.


I am hosting the lovely Amber Argyle, author of Witch Song.

Here's what the book is about:

The world is changing.

Once, Witch Song controlled everything from the winds to the shifting of the seasons, but not anymore. All the Witches are gone, taken captive by a traitor.
All but Brusenna.

Now the traitor is coming for Brusenna, and ever her guardian can't protect her. Somehow, Brusenna has to succeed where every other Witch has failed. Find the traitor. Fight her. Defeat her.

If Brusenna fails, there won't be anything left to save.

Cool, right? I can't wait to read this! That's one of the great things about the YA Scavenger hunt; we get exposed to books and authors we might not have otherwise come across. I love the cover, too, something about the girl's eyes are so eerie and striking. And it's been a good long time since I read a story about witches. . .
Here's some info about the author:

Amber Argyle grew up with three brothers on a cattle ranch in the Rocky Mountains. She spent hours riding horses, roaming the mountains, and playing in her family's creepy barn. This environment fueled her imagination for writing her debut novel.

She has worked as a short order cook, janitor, and staff member in a mental institution. All of which has given her great insight into the human condition and has made for some unique characters.

She received her bachelor's degree in English and Physical Education from Utah State University.

She currently resides in Utah with her husband and three small children.

To which I say: !!!!!  Hey, neighbor! She grew up in the Rockies riding horses and roaming the mountains, hmm sounds like my kind of writer. Must be a kindred spirit, is all I'm saying. Now even more excited to read the book.

And now we're on to el bonus contento. Below you'll find the never-before-seen first chapter of Witch Song 2. Make sure to read it all the way through to the end, because there's some stuff at the bottom on how to enter to win (pay attention to the word in red)the huge and super exciting prize package. (I myself contributed some very awesome Team Christian/Team Tucker paraphernalia, among other things.) And, of course, the link for the next stop on the scavenger hunt. Hint: It isn't me. Hee hee. But when you do find me on this hunt, you will find a very cool tidbit of bonus content from Hallowed.
  
Witch Song 2, Chapter 1

The shadows seemed to bleed darkness. Senna glanced toward the sky, searching for the moon that would not come. Not tonight. Even the strongest starlight was strangled out by the dense canopy. The temporary blindness was frightening, but it was also the reason she'd come. Darkness offered cover and protection—and insured that no one would notice her slipping away.
With each step she took, the roar of the waterfall grew loader. Finally, she reached the stair case carved into the side of the cliff. Mindful of the slippery steps, she climbed upward until her legs burned and she sweated despite the chill.

Finally, she reached the top and crossed the bleak expanse until she could hear the rhythmic crash of the waves against the cliffs. Glancing far down below her, she could see the frothing sea. She faced West, toward Tarten. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the Four Sisters—earth, water, plants, and sunlight. She could feel their pain—like a shriveled sore in her stomach.

Her tears started again, wetting the salty tracks she knew were already on her cheeks.

She couldn't seem to shake the dreams that woke her every night. Dreams of a withered land and a dying people.

With all the strength she had, she sang.

Let not the curse of Witches
Destroy a land once bathed in riches
Plants, withdraw life to thy roots
Seeds sleep in the earth, send forth no shoots
Until the witches shall disperse
This hated and unjust curse.

She sang until her throat was scratchy and she could no longer hit the high notes. Then she stood staring at the land she knew was there, struggling to hold onto any life at all. Because of the witches' curse, no rain had fallen in over two months—death to any jungle. But this one held on deep in the ground, waiting for the promise of her song to be fulfilled.

Through the stillness, one stone scratch on another. Senna whirled and looked back the way she'd come, her heart pounding in her throat. If the Discipline Heads discovered that she was subverting their curse, the punishment would be severe.

Senna saw nothing through the gloom. Hugging her arms around herself, she trotted back to the staircase and started the long descent. At the base, she plunged onto the path that wove between the tree houses like a river carrying its load of human cargo from one house to house along its banks. The trees towered above Senna, the tallest over eight stories high, the smallest just over two.

And each of those tree houses had once been inhabited by a Witch. Now they were all empy. Here, everything still bore the signs of the Witches' final battle with Espen. A door leading into the tree creaked on its rusted hinges; a yawning hole where the latch should have been. Broken windows gaped like mouths with hungry, serrated teeth.

Glass crunched under someone's feet.

Senna froze, tipping her head toward the sound.

The wind picked up, snaking through the dense foliage before tugging at Senna's cloak. Ducking her head, she held her hood close. She could smell the freshness of plants and taste the damp loam. There was no indication that anyone had marked her sneaking away. No indication that she'd been followed. Still, she waited, as still as a mouse venturing into the cat's lair. She'd been uneasy since she'd left her tree house. Some instinct inside her seemed to chant a warning: through the gloom, someone was watching.

"Who's there?" Her whisper sounded like a shout in the darkness.

No answer. Her heart pounding, Senna hurried back to the warmth and safety of the inhabited part of the island. She wished Joshen were with her. The Discipline Heads had done their best to keep her apart from her Guardian. She hadn't seen him in two months. Not since the Guardians had gone on a recruitment assignment.

Trying to calm her stuttering heart, she reminded herself she was safe on Haven. The witches' headquarters was an impenetrable fortress—surrounded on all sides by cliffs that were in turn surrounded by the frigid ocean. The only way in or out of was for a witch to sing you in.

Still, the island had been breached before. When the Dark Witch had captured or killed all the remaining witches. All but Senna.

The thick vegetation to Senna's left shifted against the breeze.

Someone was there.

Backing away, Senna's hand went to her seed belt. Her practiced fingers automatically found the pouch of Thine seeds She heard a whooshing sound. Before she could understand what it was, something solid smacked into her temple.

Lights exploded behind her eyes. She staggered sideways. The thick foliage on left of the path shuddered. A black shape hurled out of the darkness toward her.

Senna didn't have time for the Thine. Her mouth opened and a song poured out,

Plants, stop the man who'd halt my flight.
Bind him, though he fights.

All around the man, the dark forms of plants shot out, tripping his feet. He reached out, snatching her leg. She stumbled and fell, still singing. She felt the plants respond, twisting around him and pinning his arms down. She kicked free of him and scooted backward. She nearly sagged in relief. One more song, and he'd be wrapped up completely.

Something snapped behind her. Senna lurched to her feet. Someone barreled into her, wrapping their arms around her. Senna slammed into the dirt. She felt grit digging into her cheek.

Plants , stop—

The person behind reared back and jerked a gag into her mouth.

Knowing how helpless she was without her song, Senna drove her elbow back, catching the wiry attacker in the gut. The gag came free, but Senna couldn't get the breath to sing. She twisted in his arms. All Senna saw was a face wrapped in black, dark eyes glinting. She punched as Joshen had shown her, putting all her strength into it. An explosion of pain erupted in Senna's hand.

Her attacker tottered. Senna shoved him with all her strength. The attacker tried to hold on, but he wasn't much bigger than Senna. Kicking her way free, she started running. She panted out a song.

Plants of the forest, hide my trail,
for an enemy, I must quell.

She was too winded for the song to be very effective, but it was the best she could manage. She chanced a glance behind her. In the darkness, she could make out the forms of her attackers chasing after her. And they were fast.

Even with her song weaving the plants behind her, Senna wasn't going to outrun them. That meant she had to hide. She darted into the dense foliage. Plants whipped her face, making her eyes sting. She passed the tree and erupted onto another path. She followed it for half a dozen steps before darting back into the plants and flattened herself, her face pressed into the damp soil.

Footsteps pounded past her. They paused uncertainly, but they were good at this game. Without a word, they split up—Senna heard them searching for her.

Sweat soaking through the back of her green dress, Senna tried to slow her breathing. She searched for some kind of weapon, anything. A piece of shattered glass glinted in the starlight.

Keeping her movements smooth and even, Senna wrapped the edge of her cloak around her hand and picked it up. She chanced lifting her head. She listened for any sign of them, sweat rolling down her temples, before she scooted backward. When she bumped into the tree house behind her, she eased to her feet and edged around to the other side.

Her heart pounding in her throat, she waited. Nothing. She moved away from the tree, toward home, her senses straining for any sign that she'd been spotted.

Some instinct made her turn to look behind her. But it was too late. She already felt the gag biting into her mouth. Felt the knot go tight.

But her attacker had underestimated the rest of Senna. She whirled and struck with the glass shard. Above the wrapping over his face, her attacker's eyes went wide with shock. A gush of warm blood soaked Senna's hand.

She stumbled back in horror.

The attacker fell to his knees, his large hand on his stomach. Senna retreated, fear clawing her insides.

He watched her, his eyes unreadable. "You're not safe, Brusenna. You won't be safe as long as you're here. Soon, all the witches will be dead." His accent was harsh.

Who was this man? Why had he attacked her? Senna studied his shadowed face, trying to place him. She stretched a hand out to pull away the cloth covering his nose and mouth. Somewhere behind the man, the plants rustled as if someone were running through them.

The other attacker.

Snatching her hand back, Senna turned and fled, not daring to look back. Three times she fell, once so hard she feared she'd broken her wrist. She yanked on the gag, her lips cracking, and finally managed to pull it off.

Ahead, the warm lights of Haven came to view. She caught glimpses of lanterns gleaming inside the trees like distant stars. Had she really gone so far? When she finally reached her tree house, her breathing came in ragged gasps. She ran up the steps made of the tree roots and hauled open the door.

Her mother shot to her feet, her knitting falling to the floor. "Brusenna?

Senna snatched her mother's hand. "We're not safe!"

Where there more attackers? Was anyone safe? Senna didn't stop until she reached the Ring of Power—a circular clearing ringed by tall trees. She darted to the center.

"What happened? Why are you covered in blood? What happened to your face?

Senna ignored her. She had to warn the others. She tipped her head back and sang.

Wind, carry my song across Haven
An enemy with purpose craven,
Has breached our border.
Wrecking havoc and disorder.

The wind whipped around her song, carrying its message all over the island. Senna heard it reverberating off the impassable cliffs. Within moments, Witches were pouring into the Ring of Power, some wearing little more than their shifts.

Prenny, her grey hair sticking up like a rooster tail, marched straight up to Senna. "What's the meaning of this, Sprout?"

Senna held up her hand to shield her eyes from the bright lantern Prenny held. "Two men attacked me."

Prenny's face went pale.

Her mother snatched both of Senna's hands and turned them over.

Senna suddenly felt overwhelmingly tired. "It's not my blood."

"Some of it is," her mother said.

Senna stared at the puncture holes in her palm, her blood mixing with that of her attacker to run in garish streaks down her dress. The glass must have pierced through her cloak. As she looked at the cuts, they started to hurt.

Drenelle, swathed in layers of silk and lace came up in time to hear the last. She saw the blood on Senna's hands. She gasped and whirled around. "Coyel! Coyel!"

Her mother lifted her skirt. "I'll get my kit."

Senna grabbed her arm. "No! They're still out there!"

"Who's out there?" Coyel, Head of Sunlight, asked as she came in.

Her mother pulled away from Senna's grasp. "I'll be fine. We need to treat your hands." Short of physically restraining her, Senna knew she could stop her. She watched helplessly as her mother left.

Prenny took Senna's hands in her own, clicking her tongue at what she saw. Senna winced.

More Witches gathered around Senna. All of them stared at her, fear in their eyes. Senna felt their gazes and wanted to hide. "Two men attacked me."

"That's impossible," Prenny growled. "No one can get on the island."

Senna met the old woman's gaze. "Like they didn't get on the island before?"

Prenny stepped back as if she'd been slapped. "The traitor is dead. All the other Witches are accounted for."

Chavis marched toward them. The witch was Head of Water, and therefore their leader in battle.

"How many? Where?"

Senna pointed a shaking hand back the way she'd come. "Two of them. On the west side of the island."

Chavis whirled around. "Witchlings and Apprentices in the circle. Arianis is in charge. Keepers in groups of four, one of those four a Water. Search the island. Senna with me."

Senna glanced up in time to see Arianis shoot her a glare as she shooed the younger girls into a circle. The Apprentices locked forearms. The ground around them surged. Shimmering like an aurora, a cylindrical barrier rose into the night sky. Nothing and no one could cross until the Witches released each other.

As long as the circle held, the young witches were safe.

Chavis hefted her musket, loading a ball and tapping the powder into the frizzen.
"Sometimes a musket works better than witch song." Chavis answered Senna's unasked question. She handed the musket to Prenny and loaded the two pistols she always carried strapped to her sides.

Drenelle grabbed her lantern from the ground.

"Leave it," Chavis said. "It will only make us targets and blind us to the night." She started forward without another word.

Senna watched her, her whole body loath to go back into the darkness.

Chavis turned, her pistols gleaming in her hands. Senna's arms seemed to burn with the memory of being shot. The taste of gunpowder on her tongue the night Bruke had died to save her. She couldn't seem to move.

"Senna, you need to show us where to go."

Going back into danger went against every instinct Senna had. She forced herself not to think of it as she stepped from the lantern lit clearing into the darkness beyond.

When they started into the uninhabited part of Haven, Chavis glanced at her askance. "What were you doing here?"

Senna's mouth was dry. She had to swallow several times before the words would come. "I couldn't sleep." Her blood aching with fear, he stopped suddenly. Something at her feet was out of place. She picked up a sling shot, her hand automatically straying to her bruised temple.

"Here."

Chavis pulled out her pistol. "Prenny and Coyel."

Prenny handed her musket to Drenelle, who held it away from her body like might sully her white chemise. Then the older witch pulled out four glass vials. "Ready?"

Coyel crooned to the wind.

Wind, from above blow down on me,
Then spread the nips to any who lying in wait be.

The wind gushed down on the top of Senna's head, billowing outward when it hit the ground.

As Coyel continued the song, Prenny tossed the contents of each vial into the air. The wind caught the powder, billowing it outward.

Even with the wind blowing the nips powder away from the packed group of witches, the back of Senna's throat itched and her eyes smarted. She held her cloak over her nose and mouth and squinted through watering eyes.

Coyel stopped singing. She rested a hand on Senna's shoulder. "Anyone the powder touched would erupt into a helpless fit of coughing."

The witches strained, listening.

"Whoever it was, they're gone now." Prenny finally announced.

Senna wiped her streaming eyes.

Chavis stared into the shadows. "We're not going to find anything on a night like this. Best lock ourselves in and wait till morning. We can do a thorough search then."

Senna wiped her watering eyes on her cloak. "They could be long gone by then."

Chavis cursed. "Why didn't I think of that. Quick, to the entrance pool."

Passing other groups of searching Witches, the five witches hustled as fast as they dared, their hands outstretched for balance, toward the only way in or out of Haven. Etched in the side of one of the cliffs was a stone archway. Briars and thistle grew thick over the entrance.

"No one's been here," Coyel said, her voice heavy with relief.

"Unless a witch sang them inside." Chavis shoved her guns in there holsters. "One of us should have brought a lamp."

Drenelle silk chemise rustled. "I did." Senna heard the scrap of a knife down a striker, sending out a shower of sparks. One caught on the oil wick. Drenelle twisted the lever on a small, ornate lamp.

Senna nearly sighed in relief as light flooded the area. For the first time since leaving the clearing, she could make out the other's faces instead of just dark shapes.

Coyel sang the briars and thistle free of the entrance.

Chavis took the lantern and eased down the steps, the light throwing harsh shadows on the carved walls. Senna stood on the mosaic stone floor, staring at the still surface of the pool.

Coyel let out a sigh of relief. "All the boats are still here."
Chavis drummed her fingers on her gun. "Don't be too relieved, Keeper. That just means they're still here."

I don't know about you, but I want to keep reading! To buy Witch Song on Amazon, click here!

And here are the rules to our ginormous giveaway. We've put together a puzzle with one keyword found on each website. Complete it and you will be eligible for a fantastic GRAND PRIZE which will include signed editions of books, signed bookmarks, jewelry, and many more exclusive gifts with at least one gift from EVERY AUTHOR! Woot!

Scavenger Hunt Puzzle
Directions: Copy and paste the words below onto a document or print it out and unscramble the words as you proceed through the Scavenger Hunt. Search for keywords, one on each website that will be highlighted in RED. When you are finished, fill out the google form, here. 

1. NVSEIURE
2. MLTSIPIE 
3. PEMETKIREE
4. IIHEDOMC
5. FMERLOAHTWER
6. DLENGO
7. IRDEEDEWLB
8. RSUERNEDR
9. AOCATTINA
10. AHNCEDNTE
11. GURENDOHY
12. GAUINDAR
13. RETECSS
14. EMCREAB
15. LORNDDWURE
16. AIRSFCCEI
17. RIASSMHCT
18. RWTHACES
19. RTAAENTNRSP
20. DETLGAN
21. YFNASAT
22. NTOAPHWYP
23. SLLESUOS
24. ECNNEOIP
25. LOENIOASTD
26. EORFWLWE
27. AREEHTFS
28. AAAOLRPMNR
29. HSIGDNA
30. DOBANADNE
31. LIECSHORCN
32. SPSESNEU
33. OTMYHLGYO
34. ELWLHAENO
35. TTOAINRTAC
36. UAUTFLBIE

37. BTRSUTEFEIL

Rules: To be eligible for the grand prize, you must submit this filled in puzzle before noon on Dec 4th Pacific Time. All the keywords must be in the correct place and you must include your full name and address. Entries sent in without name and address will not be considered!
And now on to the next stop in the scavenger hunt--click HERE.

The Clock Tolls 6--Winners of the Hallowed for Halloween Contest

Okay, first let me start out by saying this was HARD. I had no idea when I came up with this little contest idea that I'd get such a big response, which is so cool. There were more than 100 entries, and I have to narrow the winners down to 4 (2 for the cover, 2 for the description). I wish I had like 100 ARCs to give out, seriously.

But, there can only be 4.

Plus 6 runner-ups, who will not receive Hallowed ARCs (boo), but who WILL receive any other kind of Unearthly-related stuff I can scrounge up, like bookplates and bookmarks and maybe Clara's favorite Halloween candy.

So, without further ado, the winners:

For the cover contest:

[image error] an entry by Jessica M. I thought this was gorgeous, first of all. And I liked how she incorporated the quote from Unearthly but gave it a whole new and devious meaning. Awesome. Congrats. An ARC of Hallowed is yours.

The other ARC will go to Roberta Mansfield, for this image:

This made me laugh out loud. Tucker's dismembered head was such a nice touch, and changing the name to Hollowed and having a hollowed-out space in Clara's chest. Classic. Plus fire and black wings and blood. Wow.

And now the runners up, who won't get an ARC but some other cool stuff:

Priscilla Peters, who sent me this lovely image:
Priscilla sent me 5 different entries, and they were all beautiful, but in the end I went with this black and white one. It was just . . . creepy. Bravo.

Christina Rose:
This was the first entry I received that really made me sit back and go, WOW. So Halloweeny. I loved it. I swear Clara's been looking a bit thin lately.

And last, but not least, Katie Kelly:
This was so beautiful and eerie and cool. I loved it.

Maybe this is torture, but I also want to mention Alexandra Torres, Ashley Ferguson, Faithe Maher, Kaylee Maddox, and Olliver Hood (Olliver's had this quote: "Simply brilliant"--The Devil, which also made me laugh out loud.) You guys made my top 10.

And on to the book descriptions.

Winner #1, funkelstein17, with this:

She´s waited such a long time for this day. It was October 31. Halloween. Night of demons and vampires. Her night. This was the night to finally fulfil her purpose. Clara Gardner, supernaturally beautiful and pale faced vampire, who had the ability to switch between dimensions - has trained for this day for years, mentally and physically. It was the darkest night of this year too, no moon, no stars, just blackness. Together with her mate Christian Prescott, scarred and red-faced king of demons, she´d do it tonight. Standing on top of a mountain near Jackson lake she´d raise her hand and with her high pitched scream a gap in space and time would appear like tongues of flames out of nowhere. Through the tunnel-like flame hole she would be able to see right into Cynthia Hands home, watching Cynthia writing at her desk while she was being completely oblivious to what was coming for her. Christian Prescott writhed in agony as he read Clara´s thoughts: Tonight Clara would torture Cynthia painfully to death if Tucker could not be her boyfriend anymore in the next book. He was determined to avert this, he was supposed to be her soulmate for eternity…

I was highly entertained by the idea of Clara torturing me to death if I separated her from Tucker.

Winner #2:
Mimi Valentine

Clara Gardner wasn't dead.

But every zombie hunter wished she was. Dubbed the legendary Severed Hand because of her missing right arm, Clara was one of the most notorious undead beings to haunt the Earth. She ate hearts and stole hands, as if to compensate for the she'd lost; according to rumors, she didn't even chew before she swallowed. There wasn't a single hunter who had managed to stop her wrath.

Until Tucker. Gorgeous, golden, and absolutely determined, Tucker Avery was one of the best zombie hunters out there... except he was dead too. As a zombie-hunting zombie, he was trusted by neither the dead nor the alive. Not that it mattered much to him. After watching his family die at the hands of a zombie and then being infected by the same guy, Tucker's only goal was to rid the world of all undead beings -- and then himself.

So it was natural that he'd take it upon himself to destroy the one-handed girl who haunted the boonies. Only problem? There were some things about the mysterious Severed Hand that not even the gory stories told.

Like the fact that, once upon a time when they were both alive, Tucker and Clara had known each other.

And she remembered him.
I picked this because, well, it was just an excellently written description. I want to read that book. And nothing says Halloween like Clara and Tucker as star-crossed zombies.

Runners up for this were Shannon (my agent liked this one!), Sara, and Gabi. Bookplates, bookmarks, and fun stuff for you!

If you didn't win, never fear. There will be more giveaways and contests in the future, and some not as difficult, I promise.

Whew. This was SO fun. Thanks for all the support for Hallowed.

Unearthly comes to PAPERBACK tomorrow! Tell your friends!

And now I'm off to trick-or-treat with my kiddos.

XO

C

Hallowed for Halloween Cover Entries

Below you'll find a video I made of the entries (so far) for my Hallowed for Halloween contest. You guys. This has been CRAZY. There have been more than 60 submissions to the cover part of the contest alone, and they are wicked awesome. I have no idea how I'm ever going to choose two. Thank you so much for making my Halloween so fun and showing such support and excitement for Hallowed. You make me proud!

Enjoy!

Why I Love the CW

Hi, y'all. I didn't intend to blog for a few days, (writing, writing, writing Book 3) but then some news broke yesterday and my tweeps are going wild and I thought I would clear some things up.

Yes, it IS true. Unearthly is being developed into a television series for the CW! This is so unbelievably exciting and surreal for me. I love the idea. I have been an avid CW watcher for a long time, my fave show for years and years being The Gilmore Girls. There's nothing like the rapid-fire dialogue from that show. <3 In fact, Unearthly was influenced quite a lot by Rory and Lorelei--I wanted the relationship between Clara and Maggie to be fun and friend-like and snappy like this (and there is a reference to the GG in the book, can you find it?). So I am soooooo pleased that my little book is being developed into a show for this network.



That said, it is being DEVELOPED into a show on the CW. This does not mean that it is definitely going to BE a show on the CW. Unearthly has a lot of hoops to get through before that happens. Right now we're still in the script phase-- Kevin Murphy is writing a what-I-am-sure-will-be-awesome script for the pilot. Then the network has to greenlight the pilot to be made, it has to be cast and shot, and then the network has to decide if it makes it to primetime. Like I said, lots of work ahead of us. So keep your fingers crossed, and thank you for all the squees and excitement and good wishes.

Love you guys! (collective hug)

P.S. The entries for my Hallowed/Halloween giveaway are AWESOME. Keep them coming. I will announce the winner at 6pm Pacific Time.

now: write, write, write, write, write. Book 3, book 3, book 3.

Get Hallowed for Halloween!

Okay, so here's my contest for HALLOWED on Halloween. I am seriously so excited about this. I am going to be giving away four (count them, FOUR) ARCs of Hallowed!

There are 2 ways to win:

#1 Download this, the US cover for Hallowed. Aw. Isn't it nice?


Then, using Photoshop or Paint or whatever artsy program you like, dress up my cover for Halloween. Let's pretend, instead, that this is a horror book. Instead of "aw," we want, "ew!" The funnier, grosser, and/or most Halloweenlike, the better. (But nothing, you know, truly obscene or something that would traumatize a person under 12).

I'm not great with Photoshop, but I had all kinds of fun coming up with this example:

Bwa ha ha. I love it.

Anyway, mess with my cover. Then email it to me at writercynthiahand@gmail.com. Make sure the image is a decent size, since I've had trouble posting super large pictures or pictures in a strange format here before.

For those of you who are not artistically inclined, here is method #2 for winning your very own Hallowed ARC.

Let's read the description of Hallowed, shall we?:
          For months part-angel Clara Gardner trained to face the raging forest fire from her visions and rescue the alluring and mysterious Christian Prescott from the blaze. But nothing could prepare her for the fateful decisions she would be forced to make that day, or the startling revelation that her purpose—the task she was put on earth to accomplish—is not as straightforward ...moFor months part-angel Clara Gardner trained to face the raging forest fire from her visions and rescue the alluring and mysterious Christian Prescott from the blaze. But nothing could prepare her for the fateful decisions she would be forced to make that day, or the startling revelation that her purpose—the task she was put on earth to accomplish—is not as straightforward as she thought. Now, torn between her increasingly complicated feelings for Christian and her love for her boyfriend, Tucker, Clara struggles to make sense of what she was supposed to do the day of the fire. And, as she is drawn further into the world of part angels and the growing conflict between White Wings and Black Wings, Clara learns of the terrifying new reality that she must face: Someone close to her will die in a matter of months. With her future uncertain, the only thing Clara knows for sure is that the fire was just the beginning.
Awesome, isn't it? Makes you just want to jump right in and read. But now (you guessed it) you get to rewrite the Hallowed description. What if Hallowed were a horror novel? You can either write it like a really messed up, scary sequel to Unearthly, such as:

For months part-demon Clara Gardner trained to start the raging forest fire from her visions and murder the alluring and mysterious Christian Prescott during the blaze. . .

or you can toss the original story and start from scratch, using just the cover and the title, like:

 Six years ago, Clara Gardner drowned in the icy waters of Jackson Lake right after the Halloween dance.  For 364 days of the year, she rests peacefully in her coffin as a corpse. But every year on Halloween night she comes to life and claws her way out of the grave, determined to find Christian, the boy who jilted her, and literally eat his heart out . . .

Leave your description in the comments below (not on Goodreads or on Facebook, please, but here). Have fun with it! I can't wait to see what you come up with. I will award ARCs to the 2 best covers and the 2 best descriptions, along with a few other little tricks and treats of my own. On Halloween night, sometime in between taking my kids trick-or-treating and lapsing into a candy coma, I will announce the winners.  *Yes, I will ship internationally, thanks for asking, although I only have ARCs in English. Good luck, and Happy Halloween!

Library Time, Nixed Covers, and Sequel Syndrome

I am into the hard-core writing to get a draft down for Book 3, so I don't have much time to blog these days, but I wanted to tell you that today, I put M in daycare for a half day, and I drove to Malibu and spent 4 hours in the Pepperdine library, writing my brains out. And it was wonderful. So quiet and uninterrupted. I got loads done. I plan to do it again on Thursday.

Things are heating up for Hallowed, the release date creeping closer and closer. I want to have some sort of ARC giveaway tied with Halloween (Hallowed on Halloween, get it?) but haven't hit on a great idea for how to do this yet. For as creative of a person as I believe myself to be, I am dreadful with contest ideas. Any suggestions on a contest that would be fairly simple where I could give away, say 3 or 4 copies of Hallowed? I am all ears and eager to give some away. . .

And there is one piece of news regarding the UK version of Hallowed. The publisher nixed the Christian cover. I am, of course, disappointed. I loved that cover. It was my favorite of all my covers to date, I think because it channeled the feeling of Hallowed so well. But the booksellers were nervous about a boy on the cover, so Egmont UK completely redesigned it with a girl. And it's very nice. But it's not Christian. Sigh. Oh well. Such is life in the publishing world.

Happier news: Kristi at The Story Siren blog, which is indisputably one of the best blogs, like, ever, read Hallowed! And liked it! Her exact words on Goodreads were "Holy shiz!!!! AWESOMESAUCE!!!" I laughed at that and breathed a huge sigh of relief. It's crazy how much more pressure I feel about whether people will like Hallowed, not because I don't think it's a good book--in many ways, I feel it's a better book than Unearthly, more sophisticated in the telling, more powerful and more emotional on all kinds of levels, but because it isn't Unearthly.

I'm that way about sequels myself. I fall in love with the first one, and then I'm all "meh" about the second one because what I really loved about the first one was being introduced into the world, meeting the characters, discovering what the story is about with them. And the second book is a middle book, typically. A book full of struggles, but not usually solutions. The book where the characters get hurt, they fall, and then they're going to have to get back up. Not saying that Hallowed is a bummer, mind you. Clara is still Clara, after all; she's still got her sense of humor, her sarcasm, her dumb jokes. She makes me laugh as much as she makes me cry. But she is absolutely smack in the middle of her emotional struggle in this book. And some people don't like middles. They like beginnings. They like endings. But not middles.

*Refrains from biting nails thinking about it. Refers you to a blog post by Kiersten White where she basically says the same thing but way more articulately here. Tells myself to STOP READING the FREAKING reviews!!!!!

Lol. I need sleep. And some more time in the library. That is all.

Wicked Lovely Day

Today I'm sick. I got approximately 1 hour of sleep last night, because my baby is also sick. Croupy, camp out with a snuggy all night on her bedroom floor to make sure she keeps breathing kind of sick. Uh to the Guh. So I am trudging around in a yucky exhausted haze, coughing, rasping like a chain smoker, hating that today was supposed to be a writing day, and it has turned out to be a delirious every-part-of-my-body-hurts day.

But hark, what news from yonder email breaks? It is my editor, and through my yucky haze I am able to glean two pieces of ASTOUNDING NEWS that makes me feel super awake in a flash.

Piece #1: They have moved the release date of Hallowed up by one week! So the new date is: January 17, 2012!   Yay! Y'all can get your Tucker-grabby hands on the book one whole week earlier!

Piece #2: MELISSA MARR has blurbed my book! Seriously, I need a pinch. For a better understanding of the utmost respect I have for this woman, see here, where a year ago I got so tongue-tied in MM's presence at the Smart Chicks tour that I totally forgot to get a picture with her. I was like, "ummmmmm, hi, I'm Cindy, please sign my. . .um, copy of Ink Exchange, I really liked it, I really like you, um. . .thank you so much, ummmmm," and that was it.

Those of you who know me well know that tongue-tied is not something that happens to me all that often. She is Just. That. Cool.

Squee!!!

(later)

(much, much later)

Wow. Note to self: don't squee with laryngitis. It hurts.

I having such a surreal moment, guys, seriously. I'm flashing back to my first days of writing Unearthly, when I said to myself, "I need to read more YA, right now!" and dashed off to the bookstore where I spotted this:

on the shelf, and I thought. Well, yeah, I gotta read that. And that night I was totally freaking over whether Aislinn would become the Summer Queen or if something terrible would happen to her. It was a magical story. I fell in love with reading all over again, reading that.

So, yeah. She rocks. I am so humbled that she would have even read Hallowed, let alone liked it enough to blurb it. I am so humbled, period.

What do you know? :) It turned out to be a wicked lovely day.

Vlog in which I show you my Unearthly corkboard

And now for something completely different. A video I made, showing off the giant corkboard I used when I wrote Unearthly.

Enjoy.

The Good, the Bad, and the Pretty

I know I've been MIA for a while. It's fall. This is always a crazy time for me, what with school starting and book deadlines and all that jazz. But I know y'all forgive me since I have been working so very hard on Book 3.

But today I have big news!

The good: the doorbell rang today. A guy put a box on my doorstep and ran. Normally that's cause for alarm and the box just may be full of dog terds or something, but this time it was a big box from HarperCollins. I smiled big when I saw it because awesome things come in boxes from HC!!!!

The bad: the doorbell woke up my daughter right in the middle of her nap and right when I was really getting smoking on my Book 3 work for the day.

The pretty: Inside the box was:

ARCS for HALLOWED!!!!!!!!!!

Now, before I get inundated with ARC requests, let me say: um, I can't take any ARC requests this time. Sorry. Truly, I am. I fully understand your need for a Tucker fix right now (he's on page 1, people)--oh yeah, and Clara too, right?

Never fear, I will be having some contests to give away the books in this box. But if you want an ARC you'll  have to contact the publicity department at HarperTeen and/or go by the usual book blogger channels. Last year I tried to handle the requests myself and it was a mess and ended up with me wanting to crawl into a corner and suck my thumb, there were so. many. requests.  And that was before most people even knew there was a Tucker.

So--YAY! Even though I've been on this published-author train for a while now, there's nothing quite like opening a box full of books with my name on it. Huge rush. Huge. I need somebody to pinch me. I can't believe this is my life.

Now I have to go calm my crying baby.

UK Cover for Hallowed

I am allowed to share my UK cover for Hallowed! I love it so much! It has CHRISTIAN on the cover!

SQUEE!!

Okay, I should stop squealing over it and just SHOW YOU, right?

All right, if you insist.

Here:


Seriously, I am in total love with this cover. Swoon, swoon, swoon.

First off, I love that it's Christian. I wish that more YA books had boys on the cover; it'd be a change-up from all the pretty girls in their pretty dresses. I do love my covers with my pretty dresses, but still. . . Christian! Which is awesome because Hallowed is so much about us getting to know Christian better.  (Not to worry though, Team Tucker, because Tucker gets his fair share of page time.)

I love that the clouds behind him are parted like wings.

I love his expression and his stance, hands on the pockets, very much the way that Clara sees him in her vision of the fire (except she always sees him from the back).

In short, it's beautiful. It rocks my world.