Cindy C. Bennett's Blog, page 24
May 13, 2014
Diary of Two Mad Black Mormons
Spotlight on:
You’ve read the title, and now you’re scratching your head, wondering if this book is for real, right?
It is. Yes, the authors are bona fide Mormons. And hilarious, too! They call themselves Sistas in Zion.
Did we mention they’ve got enough faith to move mountains? Well, they haven’t moved any mountains just yet, but that’s not stopping them from keeping right on praying and believing and knowing that the gospel of Jesus Christ is worth it.
Their unique perspective on their own diary entries will have you laughing one minute and exclaiming “Amen!” the next. They talk about personal experiences and lessons they’ve learned about relationships, sisterhood, standing up for what you believe, embracing diversity, and dealing with adversity—what being a Christian is all about.
The Sistas’ humorous and poignant outlook on life will strengthen your faith and remind you of the joy to be found in living a Christ-centered life. You’ll soon realize that the authors aren’t mad-mad—they’re crazy-mad, funny, and inspiring!
Amazon ~ Deseret Book
ABOUT THE AUTHORS: Zandra Vranes and Tamu Smith are popular multimedia personalities and the authors of the online blog -SISTASinZION.com. Zandra (Sista Laurel) and Tamu (Sista Beehive) also host a weekly online radio program, Sistas in Zion Radio. Their media identities, which focus on humorous aspects of faith and Mormon culture, seek to uplift, inspire, bridge religious divides, and create healthy dialogue.
Zandra and Tamu are members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter—day Saints. They enjoy the fact that their Christian values and their work coincide.
Their lives are blessed by amazing family and friends. Zandra is thankful for her boo, the love of her life. Tamu enjoys spending time with her husband of twenty years and their six wonderful kids.
Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Pinterest
a Rafflecopter giveaway
You’ve read the title, and now you’re scratching your head, wondering if this book is for real, right?
It is. Yes, the authors are bona fide Mormons. And hilarious, too! They call themselves Sistas in Zion.
Did we mention they’ve got enough faith to move mountains? Well, they haven’t moved any mountains just yet, but that’s not stopping them from keeping right on praying and believing and knowing that the gospel of Jesus Christ is worth it.
Their unique perspective on their own diary entries will have you laughing one minute and exclaiming “Amen!” the next. They talk about personal experiences and lessons they’ve learned about relationships, sisterhood, standing up for what you believe, embracing diversity, and dealing with adversity—what being a Christian is all about.
The Sistas’ humorous and poignant outlook on life will strengthen your faith and remind you of the joy to be found in living a Christ-centered life. You’ll soon realize that the authors aren’t mad-mad—they’re crazy-mad, funny, and inspiring!
Amazon ~ Deseret Book
ABOUT THE AUTHORS: Zandra Vranes and Tamu Smith are popular multimedia personalities and the authors of the online blog -SISTASinZION.com. Zandra (Sista Laurel) and Tamu (Sista Beehive) also host a weekly online radio program, Sistas in Zion Radio. Their media identities, which focus on humorous aspects of faith and Mormon culture, seek to uplift, inspire, bridge religious divides, and create healthy dialogue.
Zandra and Tamu are members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter—day Saints. They enjoy the fact that their Christian values and their work coincide.
Their lives are blessed by amazing family and friends. Zandra is thankful for her boo, the love of her life. Tamu enjoys spending time with her husband of twenty years and their six wonderful kids.
Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Pinterest
a Rafflecopter giveaway
May 10, 2014
Remodeling: Part II
Earlier this week I posted my remodeling of my daughters room, which you can see here. Now it's time to show you the next room we remodeled, which is the family room.
When we moved in, this room was covered on 2 of the 4 walls with floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall mirrors. I kid you not. It felt like I was living in a carpeted dance studio without a barre on one side. So the first order of business was to tear down the mirrors.
When we moved in, this room was covered on 2 of the 4 walls with floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall mirrors. I kid you not. It felt like I was living in a carpeted dance studio without a barre on one side. So the first order of business was to tear down the mirrors.
May 8, 2014
Vote for Your Favorite Cover
IndieRevAwards is holding a contest for indie book covers. The cover for The End of Feeling is one of the contestants, so if you wouldn't mind hopping over to the blog and voting either for my cover, or for whichever is your favorite, I'd appreciate it! You can only vote once - if you vote more than once it'll void all of your votes, so no cheating! Vote HERE.
May 7, 2014
And We Have Liftoff!
Last night was my Facebook launch party for The End of Feeling . If you came, thanks for attending. If you missed it, you missed a great time. We had a blast, and I gave away 31 books!
A huge shout out to the authors who generously donated their own books. You can click on their names below to check out their wondiferous blogs, and click on their book titles that the donated to get your own copy.
I myself gave away: The End of Feeling, Heart on a Chain, Geek Girl, and Enchanted Fairytales
These are the rest of the authors and their titles:
Sherry Gammon - Unbearable (due out June 9th - I'll be reviewing it during Sherry's blog tour)
Jamie Canosa - Dissidence and Falling to Pieces (read my reviews here and here)
Jennie James - Cinderella
Jaclyn Weist - The Princess and the Prom Queen
Shannen Crane Camp - Pwned, Finding June, and Chasing June (you can read my reviews here, here, and here)
Laura Howard - The Forgotten Ones and Stone of Destiny
Rachel McClellan - Fractured Light, Fractured Soul, and Fractured Truth (you can read my reviews here, here, and here)
Stacy Lynn Carroll - winners choice of The Princess Sisters or Frogs & Toads (you can read my reviews here and here)
Stephanie Fowers - With a Kiss, At Midnight, and As the Sun Sets
Mikki Kells - The Ace of Hearts
Jolene Perry - The Summer I Found You (review to come soon)
Juli Caldwell - Psyched and Arms Wide Open (you can read my reviews here and here)
Wendy Knight - Feudlings in Sight and Feudlings in Smoke
Stephanie Connelley Worlton - All the Finer Things (review to come soon)
Donna K. Weaver - A Change of Plans
Cindy M. Hogan - Confessions of a 16-Year-Old Virgin Lips
Peggy Warren - Life After (not pictured since it was a late donation)
May 6, 2014
Facebook Launch Party Excerpt 2
Currently my Facebook Launch Party for The End of Feeling is going on at . . . well, at Facebook. You can come join the party here. I'm giving away tons of prizes donated by some fantastic authors. This post is, in fact, for one of the games.
Below is an excerpt from The End of Feeling . All you have to do is read it and then answer the question asked in the post about it to be entered to win.
BenjaminDinner is a lonely affair as usual. I don’t care. I prefer it that way. The microwave beeps, my burritos nuked. I open the fridge door and pull out the crusty bottle of salsa and container of sour cream. Green fuzz coats the top layer of the sour cream. I consider scraping it off and eating what’s beneath, but then decide I can’t afford food poisoning right now. Not with the game in two days.I dump what little salsa is left across the burritos and toss the empty bottle into the trash, where it crashes loudly against the other bottles that fill the can—empty beer bottles. Guess I better take that out.My cell buzzes as I sit down and take my first bite. Lava-hot beans and cheese burn my tongue and the roof of my mouth. “Argh,” is the sound that comes out of my mouth as I open wide, trying to blow around the bite of burrito, as if that will somehow relieve the burning. I quickly swallow the hot bite and follow it with a large swig of water, hoping it will prevent the burning from continuing down my esophagus. My phone buzzes again and I pull it out of my pocket. As I suspected, it’s a text from Daniel.Dude, meet me at Mega-Cinema at 9.I text back, On a school night? What would your mother say, Danny boy?C’mon, man, what if hot new girl shows?That stops me from texting my auto refusal. What if hot new girl does show? She intrigues me. I’ve spent a lot of years honing the charm, as well as the biceps and abs, which means it’s a rare girl who can resist me. And yet, Charlie . . . uh, Charlie . . . what did she say her last name is? Anyway, Charlie seems to have no problem resisting. I sense a challenge.I glance toward the trash can, remembering the sound of the bottles within. I know exactly what that means. My life is nothing if not predictable, and I know the bottles in the can mean I’m not going anywhere tonight.Sorry, bro, gotta get a report done or my butt’s in a sling, I text. Give her a kiss for me. Wait, strike that. Talk me up to her.My phone is silent for a few minutes. I know he’s debating trying to convince me to come, but I also know that he’s well aware it won’t work. Finally it buzzes.Your loss, man. If she’s there I’ll be talking ME up.I laugh, knowing that’s not true. Daniel and I have a very clear understanding about girls—I get first pick, and he gets either the leftovers or my picks once I’m finished with them. I glance at the time on my phone and realize I don’t have much time left. I quickly finish the now tolerable-temperature burritos, then rinse my plate in the sink and put it in the dishwasher. After hiding all of the big knives in the freezer, I gather the bag full of glass bottles and take it to the large can outside. Back inside I look around to see what items make the worst weapons and place them in the backs of various cabinets. I can’t move too many items where it’s obvious or that’ll set him off. Avoiding setting him off is priority one.Then I settle in to wait.It doesn’t take long. I grab a notebook and sit at the kitchen table when I hear his car, pretending to do homework. I can’t have any real homework out on the off-chance he decides to target that. He’s done it before. He’ll do it again. He stumbles through the front door and I clamp my jaw. Why has he never been DUI’d? The man drives drunk more than he does sober, and yet he’s never been pulled over. Makes me wonder if the cops are simply waiting for him to kill someone before they do. It wouldn’t kill him—I’m not that lucky.He barrels his way into the kitchen, and in spite of myself, I cringe. Shame fills me that I do, but in my defense, I’ve spent a lot of years on the receiving end of his fists. My dad is a big man, roughly the size of a grizzly, or so it seems. I’m pretty tall at six-four, but he towers over me. As much as I work out to build my muscles, I can’t hold a candle to his brawn or his meaty fists that are already clenched before he even sees me.“Damn loser,” he says in greeting. No worries for him winning Father of the Year. I don’t respond. I don’t even bother looking up, but I watch his feet furtively. I need to be prepared when he nears, which he does rather quickly for an enormous, drunk man.His fist lands on the side of my head, but the blow isn’t so bad. Because I’m prepared, I duck as he swings, causing his blow to glance off the side of my head. I stand, moving back from him as he swings again, this time catching my shoulder. I grimace in pain, in the back of my mind thinking about the possibility that a bruise might affect my playing in the game.“Stop, Dad,” I say, the words coming in spite of my trying to keep them back. “Stop what, loser?” he slurs, swinging again, connecting with the center of my back as I turn away. “Fight back, coward.”I don’t want to. And yet, without a doubt I know what will happen if I don’t obey the command. He’s told me before in no uncertain terms. He even began a convincing demonstration on more than one occasion until I caved. I’ve also learned, though, not to fight back until he requests it.I turn his way. Because he’s drunk, I at least have a small chance to, if not win, at least escape mostly unscathed. And so I fight back, no emotion coming into play as I do. I don’t feel any more or less for hitting him or receiving his blows than I do when I stand in the boxing ring. Ten minutes later, he swings at my head and misses, the force knocking him to the floor. He’s passed out cold as soon as he lands. I wipe the blood that drips from my lip with the back of my fist as I stare down at him. I want to hate him, I genuinely do. But that requires feeling I don’t have. I feel nothing for him.Shamed at the life I live, the life not a single soul outside of my father knows about, I drop a blanket over his prone form and then drag myself to the shower. The hot water will loosen my tight muscles, and hopefully I won’t show too many signs tomorrow. Since I’ve made a rep for myself for hitting up the local boxing club quite frequently, no one questions the random bruises or cuts I might show up with.Before stepping into the shower I stare at myself in the mirror. I touch my lip gingerly, turning my head to the side to examine the red mark where he managed to get a blow in. I press against the mark. Not too sore, so likely no bruise or black eye, or at least not too bad.
I avoid looking myself directly in the eye. I can’t do it. Haven’t been able to for years. My life is sick, twisted, at the mercy of insanity and absence of reason. Picking up the bar of soap, I drag it back and forth across the mirror until I’m obliterated.
Below is an excerpt from The End of Feeling . All you have to do is read it and then answer the question asked in the post about it to be entered to win.
BenjaminDinner is a lonely affair as usual. I don’t care. I prefer it that way. The microwave beeps, my burritos nuked. I open the fridge door and pull out the crusty bottle of salsa and container of sour cream. Green fuzz coats the top layer of the sour cream. I consider scraping it off and eating what’s beneath, but then decide I can’t afford food poisoning right now. Not with the game in two days.I dump what little salsa is left across the burritos and toss the empty bottle into the trash, where it crashes loudly against the other bottles that fill the can—empty beer bottles. Guess I better take that out.My cell buzzes as I sit down and take my first bite. Lava-hot beans and cheese burn my tongue and the roof of my mouth. “Argh,” is the sound that comes out of my mouth as I open wide, trying to blow around the bite of burrito, as if that will somehow relieve the burning. I quickly swallow the hot bite and follow it with a large swig of water, hoping it will prevent the burning from continuing down my esophagus. My phone buzzes again and I pull it out of my pocket. As I suspected, it’s a text from Daniel.Dude, meet me at Mega-Cinema at 9.I text back, On a school night? What would your mother say, Danny boy?C’mon, man, what if hot new girl shows?That stops me from texting my auto refusal. What if hot new girl does show? She intrigues me. I’ve spent a lot of years honing the charm, as well as the biceps and abs, which means it’s a rare girl who can resist me. And yet, Charlie . . . uh, Charlie . . . what did she say her last name is? Anyway, Charlie seems to have no problem resisting. I sense a challenge.I glance toward the trash can, remembering the sound of the bottles within. I know exactly what that means. My life is nothing if not predictable, and I know the bottles in the can mean I’m not going anywhere tonight.Sorry, bro, gotta get a report done or my butt’s in a sling, I text. Give her a kiss for me. Wait, strike that. Talk me up to her.My phone is silent for a few minutes. I know he’s debating trying to convince me to come, but I also know that he’s well aware it won’t work. Finally it buzzes.Your loss, man. If she’s there I’ll be talking ME up.I laugh, knowing that’s not true. Daniel and I have a very clear understanding about girls—I get first pick, and he gets either the leftovers or my picks once I’m finished with them. I glance at the time on my phone and realize I don’t have much time left. I quickly finish the now tolerable-temperature burritos, then rinse my plate in the sink and put it in the dishwasher. After hiding all of the big knives in the freezer, I gather the bag full of glass bottles and take it to the large can outside. Back inside I look around to see what items make the worst weapons and place them in the backs of various cabinets. I can’t move too many items where it’s obvious or that’ll set him off. Avoiding setting him off is priority one.Then I settle in to wait.It doesn’t take long. I grab a notebook and sit at the kitchen table when I hear his car, pretending to do homework. I can’t have any real homework out on the off-chance he decides to target that. He’s done it before. He’ll do it again. He stumbles through the front door and I clamp my jaw. Why has he never been DUI’d? The man drives drunk more than he does sober, and yet he’s never been pulled over. Makes me wonder if the cops are simply waiting for him to kill someone before they do. It wouldn’t kill him—I’m not that lucky.He barrels his way into the kitchen, and in spite of myself, I cringe. Shame fills me that I do, but in my defense, I’ve spent a lot of years on the receiving end of his fists. My dad is a big man, roughly the size of a grizzly, or so it seems. I’m pretty tall at six-four, but he towers over me. As much as I work out to build my muscles, I can’t hold a candle to his brawn or his meaty fists that are already clenched before he even sees me.“Damn loser,” he says in greeting. No worries for him winning Father of the Year. I don’t respond. I don’t even bother looking up, but I watch his feet furtively. I need to be prepared when he nears, which he does rather quickly for an enormous, drunk man.His fist lands on the side of my head, but the blow isn’t so bad. Because I’m prepared, I duck as he swings, causing his blow to glance off the side of my head. I stand, moving back from him as he swings again, this time catching my shoulder. I grimace in pain, in the back of my mind thinking about the possibility that a bruise might affect my playing in the game.“Stop, Dad,” I say, the words coming in spite of my trying to keep them back. “Stop what, loser?” he slurs, swinging again, connecting with the center of my back as I turn away. “Fight back, coward.”I don’t want to. And yet, without a doubt I know what will happen if I don’t obey the command. He’s told me before in no uncertain terms. He even began a convincing demonstration on more than one occasion until I caved. I’ve also learned, though, not to fight back until he requests it.I turn his way. Because he’s drunk, I at least have a small chance to, if not win, at least escape mostly unscathed. And so I fight back, no emotion coming into play as I do. I don’t feel any more or less for hitting him or receiving his blows than I do when I stand in the boxing ring. Ten minutes later, he swings at my head and misses, the force knocking him to the floor. He’s passed out cold as soon as he lands. I wipe the blood that drips from my lip with the back of my fist as I stare down at him. I want to hate him, I genuinely do. But that requires feeling I don’t have. I feel nothing for him.Shamed at the life I live, the life not a single soul outside of my father knows about, I drop a blanket over his prone form and then drag myself to the shower. The hot water will loosen my tight muscles, and hopefully I won’t show too many signs tomorrow. Since I’ve made a rep for myself for hitting up the local boxing club quite frequently, no one questions the random bruises or cuts I might show up with.Before stepping into the shower I stare at myself in the mirror. I touch my lip gingerly, turning my head to the side to examine the red mark where he managed to get a blow in. I press against the mark. Not too sore, so likely no bruise or black eye, or at least not too bad.
I avoid looking myself directly in the eye. I can’t do it. Haven’t been able to for years. My life is sick, twisted, at the mercy of insanity and absence of reason. Picking up the bar of soap, I drag it back and forth across the mirror until I’m obliterated.
Facebook Launch Party, Excerpt 1
Currently my Facebook Launch Party for The End of Feeling is going on at . . . well, at Facebook. You can come join the party here. I'm giving away tons of prizes donated by some fantastic authors. This post is, in fact, for one of the games.
Below is an excerpt from The End of Feeling . All you have to do is read it and then answer the question asked in the post about it to be entered to win.
Charlie“I’m home,” I call, stepping through the front door. I drop my backpack by the door, then remember my aunt’s obsession with order and pick it up again. I can hear the TV playing in the family room at the back of the house. I look around the strange entryway, allowing myself one moments longing for my grandma and her home where we lived until her death a month ago.I walk into the family room and see my mom, sitting on the couch, watching Barney. I dig my nails into my palms. Man, I hate that stupid, annoying, dense, purple dinosaur. “Hi, Mom,” I say.Mom jumps at the sound of my voice. She’d been too intent on Barney to hear my earlier greeting. She turns my way, a wide smile splitting her face. I smile back. Her eyes crinkle with joy as she jumps up from the couch, stray, wiry gray hairs escaping her messy ponytail. I grit my teeth at my aunt’s lack of care of her.“Charlie!” my mom yells brightly, running to me and throwing her arms around my neck, kissing my cheek noisily. I hug her tightly, cringing at the slightly sour smell.“Mom, did you take a bath today?”“Mimi says I don’t have to bath today.”“Mom, we talked about this, remember? You need to bathe every day.”She shakes her head, mouth drooping. She refuses to shower, has ever since the incident. So we compromise with a bath, followed by a lotion rubdown. If she could manage to go a night without wetting her adult diapers, she could skip a bath. In all the time I can remember, she’s been able to skip only a handful.“Should we go take a bath now?” I ask.“Barney’s on,” she whines.“Yes, and if you take a bath, you can play with your Barney toy. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”As fast as her mouth drooped, it now is replaced by a big smile. She claps happily and skips to the bathroom. I follow and run the water while she undresses, singing the annoying theme from the TV show. I pull the rubber band from her hair and dump water over her head. She blows bubbles as I do so. I get her washed as she happily plays with the big purple dinosaur and I then have to convince her to get out of the tub. Convincing her to get out is as difficult as getting her in.Once she’s dried and dressed, she sits back in front of the TV to watch cartoons, Barney long since forgotten, while I start dinner. I’m angry that my aunt is still not home. I wonder how long my mom sat here alone, unsupervised, until I arrived.She comes in when I’m just about done with the spaghetti, acting like nothing is wrong.“Hi, Charlotte,” Naomi says. I bristle at the name. It’s not that I dislike the name; my grandma chose it for me because it was her own mother’s name. It’s because my aunt refuses to call me Charlie like everyone else does simply because it’s the nickname my mom gave me.“Where were you?” I ask.She stops in the act of setting her purse down to stare at me. “That’s none of your business.”“It is when you leave my mom home alone,” I retort. “She can’t be left on her own.”“I was gone maybe ten minutes before you got home from school. What can happen in ten minutes?”A lot, I think. I refrain from telling her though, knowing our living here is precarious and based on staying in her good graces.“I have a life, Charlotte. Allowing you two to move in didn’t include the requirement that I give up all my freedom.”“I understand that,” I say, biting my tongue from telling her how selfish she is. “I’m coming home directly after school. I haven’t signed up for any extracurricular activities or anything. I’ll even get up early to bathe her if that’s too much to ask of you. All I do ask is that you watch her while I’m gone.”Naomi sighs. “We need to talk.”“It’s time to eat,” I say. I have a feeling I know what she’s going to say. I move past her to call my mom when she places a hand on my arm.“Not all homes are bad places,” she begins, and fury consumes me.“I will not place my mother in a home,” I spit.“You shouldn’t have to give up normal teen things to take ca—”“I don’t care!” I’m shaking with anger. “I don’t care about any of that. I’ll drop out of school if I have to. I’m not putting her in a home!”Naomi sighs again and I’m tempted to punch her. What does she know of taking care of my mom? She abandoned ship as soon as she graduated high school to get away from the embarrassment of having my mom for a sister. Plus, she knowswhat happened when my grandma did buckle under pressure—from Naomi, no less—and put her in a home. How could she possibly subject her to that again?“I know it’s not ideal—”I spin away from her, refusing to listen to another word. I walk into the living room where my mom sits, curled up on the couch, a blanket pulled up to her ear in one hand, sucking on the thumb of her other. My shoulders sink in dismay as I walk over to her. Her eyes are glued to the TV, but I know she’s not watching it.“Mom,” I say softly, sitting down and placing a hand on her arm. Her wide, innocent eyes turn to me.“Does Mimi hate you?” she whispers, voice trembling. Mimi is her nickname for Naomi.“No, Mom, she doesn’t. Were we talking too loud?”She shakes her head. “You were yelling.” Gotta love Mom’s honesty.“I’m sorry, Mom. We were just having a disagreement. I love Mimi, and she loves me.” Blatant lie. “Everything’s fine now. I’m sorry we scared you. You want to come have some spaghetti now?”She nods and takes my proffered hand, rising from the couch. When we enter the kitchen, Naomi is outside, pacing, smoking a cigarette. I bite the inside of my cheek. I hate that she smokes, but at least she no longer smokes in the house with my mom and me. I suppose I can give her a few points for that.I sit my mom at the table and fix a plate for her before taking the time to check my blood sugar. I prick my finger at the counter with my back turned because it tends to freak my mom out. She thinks I’m hurting myself. A few minutes later, Naomi comes in. My mom brightens.“Hi, Mimi,” she says happily.“Hi, Cora.” Naomi gives her a tight smile then fixes herself a plate. “I’m going to eat in my room,” she says. At the doorway she pauses, and without looking back says, “Thanks for dinner.”
If my mom weren’t sitting here, I’d probably scream. Instead, I smile and play a word game with her while we eat.
Below is an excerpt from The End of Feeling . All you have to do is read it and then answer the question asked in the post about it to be entered to win.
Charlie“I’m home,” I call, stepping through the front door. I drop my backpack by the door, then remember my aunt’s obsession with order and pick it up again. I can hear the TV playing in the family room at the back of the house. I look around the strange entryway, allowing myself one moments longing for my grandma and her home where we lived until her death a month ago.I walk into the family room and see my mom, sitting on the couch, watching Barney. I dig my nails into my palms. Man, I hate that stupid, annoying, dense, purple dinosaur. “Hi, Mom,” I say.Mom jumps at the sound of my voice. She’d been too intent on Barney to hear my earlier greeting. She turns my way, a wide smile splitting her face. I smile back. Her eyes crinkle with joy as she jumps up from the couch, stray, wiry gray hairs escaping her messy ponytail. I grit my teeth at my aunt’s lack of care of her.“Charlie!” my mom yells brightly, running to me and throwing her arms around my neck, kissing my cheek noisily. I hug her tightly, cringing at the slightly sour smell.“Mom, did you take a bath today?”“Mimi says I don’t have to bath today.”“Mom, we talked about this, remember? You need to bathe every day.”She shakes her head, mouth drooping. She refuses to shower, has ever since the incident. So we compromise with a bath, followed by a lotion rubdown. If she could manage to go a night without wetting her adult diapers, she could skip a bath. In all the time I can remember, she’s been able to skip only a handful.“Should we go take a bath now?” I ask.“Barney’s on,” she whines.“Yes, and if you take a bath, you can play with your Barney toy. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”As fast as her mouth drooped, it now is replaced by a big smile. She claps happily and skips to the bathroom. I follow and run the water while she undresses, singing the annoying theme from the TV show. I pull the rubber band from her hair and dump water over her head. She blows bubbles as I do so. I get her washed as she happily plays with the big purple dinosaur and I then have to convince her to get out of the tub. Convincing her to get out is as difficult as getting her in.Once she’s dried and dressed, she sits back in front of the TV to watch cartoons, Barney long since forgotten, while I start dinner. I’m angry that my aunt is still not home. I wonder how long my mom sat here alone, unsupervised, until I arrived.She comes in when I’m just about done with the spaghetti, acting like nothing is wrong.“Hi, Charlotte,” Naomi says. I bristle at the name. It’s not that I dislike the name; my grandma chose it for me because it was her own mother’s name. It’s because my aunt refuses to call me Charlie like everyone else does simply because it’s the nickname my mom gave me.“Where were you?” I ask.She stops in the act of setting her purse down to stare at me. “That’s none of your business.”“It is when you leave my mom home alone,” I retort. “She can’t be left on her own.”“I was gone maybe ten minutes before you got home from school. What can happen in ten minutes?”A lot, I think. I refrain from telling her though, knowing our living here is precarious and based on staying in her good graces.“I have a life, Charlotte. Allowing you two to move in didn’t include the requirement that I give up all my freedom.”“I understand that,” I say, biting my tongue from telling her how selfish she is. “I’m coming home directly after school. I haven’t signed up for any extracurricular activities or anything. I’ll even get up early to bathe her if that’s too much to ask of you. All I do ask is that you watch her while I’m gone.”Naomi sighs. “We need to talk.”“It’s time to eat,” I say. I have a feeling I know what she’s going to say. I move past her to call my mom when she places a hand on my arm.“Not all homes are bad places,” she begins, and fury consumes me.“I will not place my mother in a home,” I spit.“You shouldn’t have to give up normal teen things to take ca—”“I don’t care!” I’m shaking with anger. “I don’t care about any of that. I’ll drop out of school if I have to. I’m not putting her in a home!”Naomi sighs again and I’m tempted to punch her. What does she know of taking care of my mom? She abandoned ship as soon as she graduated high school to get away from the embarrassment of having my mom for a sister. Plus, she knowswhat happened when my grandma did buckle under pressure—from Naomi, no less—and put her in a home. How could she possibly subject her to that again?“I know it’s not ideal—”I spin away from her, refusing to listen to another word. I walk into the living room where my mom sits, curled up on the couch, a blanket pulled up to her ear in one hand, sucking on the thumb of her other. My shoulders sink in dismay as I walk over to her. Her eyes are glued to the TV, but I know she’s not watching it.“Mom,” I say softly, sitting down and placing a hand on her arm. Her wide, innocent eyes turn to me.“Does Mimi hate you?” she whispers, voice trembling. Mimi is her nickname for Naomi.“No, Mom, she doesn’t. Were we talking too loud?”She shakes her head. “You were yelling.” Gotta love Mom’s honesty.“I’m sorry, Mom. We were just having a disagreement. I love Mimi, and she loves me.” Blatant lie. “Everything’s fine now. I’m sorry we scared you. You want to come have some spaghetti now?”She nods and takes my proffered hand, rising from the couch. When we enter the kitchen, Naomi is outside, pacing, smoking a cigarette. I bite the inside of my cheek. I hate that she smokes, but at least she no longer smokes in the house with my mom and me. I suppose I can give her a few points for that.I sit my mom at the table and fix a plate for her before taking the time to check my blood sugar. I prick my finger at the counter with my back turned because it tends to freak my mom out. She thinks I’m hurting myself. A few minutes later, Naomi comes in. My mom brightens.“Hi, Mimi,” she says happily.“Hi, Cora.” Naomi gives her a tight smile then fixes herself a plate. “I’m going to eat in my room,” she says. At the doorway she pauses, and without looking back says, “Thanks for dinner.”
If my mom weren’t sitting here, I’d probably scream. Instead, I smile and play a word game with her while we eat.
May 5, 2014
Remodeling: Part I
When life changed last year (read: husband left and moved 300 miles away) it required me selling my dream home I was blessed enough to get to live in for 10 years and get something new. My "something new" turns out to be something that was built in 1975, so it's not really new. It needs a bunch of work, so with help from my daughters and one of my sons, I've been slowly remodeling the thing. My son thought we should film our efforts at remodeling and sell it to HGTV or DIY and call it "Remodeling by People Who Don't Know What the *bleep* They're Doing".
The first room we remodeled was my daughters bedroom. It wasn't a huge remodel, just needed some paint, wallpaper, and drapes.
Gathered supplies and picked a yellow-gold paint.
The room wasn't bad, just a little bland.
Gold on one wall and inside the closets.
Blue and gold wallpaper outside the closets.
Blue and gold wallpaper of three on the walls.
Add curtains Lexcie made with fabric we purchased in LA's fabric district and...
Voila!
Cuteness!May 1, 2014
Book Reviewer Yellow Pages
How great is this?
Are you trying to promote your books? Are you a writer, publisher, or agent? Promote your book with this bestselling author's reference, the Book Reviewer Yellow Pages. Make your book promotion easier, and get the publicity you need from book reviewers. Learn how and where to submit your book for review. There are hundreds of new book reviewers listed in this book. Each listing details the individual book reviewer's:
Contact information,Pet peeves,Preferred genres, andSubmission guidelinesReviewers are rated for quality and influence. This new edition includes several blog tour sites and their submission guidelines. Learn how to get the exposure that your book deserves! Authors and book reviewers can sign up for alerts at: http://www.stepbystepselfpublishing.net *Note: This book is enrolled in the Kindle MATCHBOOK program. If you purchase the paperback from Amazon, the Kindle edition is free. The paperback has a genre index, which makes searching for accepted genres easy. The Kindle version has clickable website links (which is impossible to do in a paperback), so you can click directly to the reviewer's site and contact page. The publisher of this book recommends purchasing the paperback and then downloading the Kindle edition for free using Amazon's Matchbook program, and using both versions to maximize your promotion efforts. PROMO TIP: This is a reference book with active hyperlinks in the e-book. It is easier to view and use the Kindle edition of this book on a computer using Amazon's free Kindle app. That way, you can use the full screen to check genre preferences and submit your query right from your desktop.
PurchaseBarnes & Noble * Kobo * Amazon
Interview with Christine Pinheiro, Editor, Defiant Press The Book Reviewer Yellow Pages is a bestselling author’s promotional reference, designed specifically for authors who need book reviewers for their books.
Where did you get the idea for the Book Reviewer Yellow Pages? At first, I did it purely out of self-interest! I wrote a nonfiction book in 2007, and I had a very difficult time finding book reviewers. It seemed like an impossible task. All of the regular outlets were closed to me—where do you go when you can’t get a review in the New York Times? Where do the “little guys” go when they need to promote their books? So I started the Book Reviewer Yellow Pages out of my own frustration. At first, the Book Reviewer Yellow Pages was just a big list on a simple website. I added to the list when I had spare time. Book reviewers started seeking me out, and asking to be put on the list, and it just grew from there. In 2009, I published the first “Book Reviewer Yellow Pages,” and the rest is history. The list just grew organically. Now we have hundreds of book reviewers on our list, and thousands of authors subscribe to the newsletter.
How about the book reviewers themselves, what do they get out of it? Many book reviewers just do it for fun, and they get the benefit of free books and ARCs (advance review copies). Quite a few of them also earn money, either from sidebar advertising, blog tours, or other author’s services. There are so many self-published authors out there right now, trying to promote their books without the help of a traditional publisher, so there’s a lot of little business ventures cropping up to serve them.
Many reviewers list their “pet peeves,” is this something that the authors really want to know? Yes! It’s the most popular part of the questionnaire—all the reviewers have their own horror stories. Sadly, many authors have terrible etiquette when they request book reviews. Many don’t take the time to even spell-check their queries, or find out if the reviewer is a man or a woman, so they can address them correctly! I used to review books myself, and it’s amazing how many times I’ve gotten a review request with nothing but a link to the book. No signature, no salutation, nothing! Why would I review your book, when you aren’t even willing to take a few minutes to send me a proper review request? We also added an “author etiquette” section to the front of the book, and that seems to help a bit.
Do Book Reviews really help sales? They’ve helped my own book sales tremendously, and I know hundreds of authors who would say the same. Look, everyone knows that book promotion is boring work. Contacting dozens of book reviewers is time consuming, and you have to deal with rejection, but the payoff from a positive book review is enormous. That’s been the case in my own writing career. Reviews really help sales, and it’s nice to have a public testimonial that customers can refer to when they purchase. On the flip side, many of the reviewers accept ARCs and also work as beta-readers, so if you can get a few good reviewers to read through your manuscript before publication, they might be able to give you valuable feedback. I found a big plot hole in one of my novels that way—a reviewer found the problem, and I was able to fix it before the book went to publication.
Do reviewers ever drop off the list? Can authors get updates? Yes, on our website. Reviewers get added and removed on a regular basis—and the list goes through a complete overhaul once a year. I do a formal update every April. That’s when we put out a new edition of the book, as well as update the reviewer list on the website. The abbreviated list on the website is free, and authors and publishers can sign up for updates to the list here: http://www.stepbystepselfpublishing.net. The newsletter is also free.
Do you have any advice for authors? Be polite to book reviewers, always. Not everyone is going to like your book, that’s just the nature of game. But publishing is a business, and it pays to be professional. It’s just like any other creative business. Reviewers are our critics, and they give us valuable feedback that we need to improve. One of the best reviews I ever received on the Book Reviewer Yellow Pages was mildly negative. The writer gave me tons of feedback on how to make the book better. I followed his advice, and the book has been more profitable since. Book Reviewers really want to help authors—I’ve never met a single book reviewer that was interested in just tearing an author down. We are all in this business together!
For more information visit: The Book Reviewer Yellow PagesWebsite * Facebook
Blast Giveaway $100 Amazon Gift Card or Paypal Cash Ends 5/31/14 Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code or Paypal Cash. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. Giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader, Not A Writer and sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW. a Rafflecopter giveaway
Are you trying to promote your books? Are you a writer, publisher, or agent? Promote your book with this bestselling author's reference, the Book Reviewer Yellow Pages. Make your book promotion easier, and get the publicity you need from book reviewers. Learn how and where to submit your book for review. There are hundreds of new book reviewers listed in this book. Each listing details the individual book reviewer's: Contact information,Pet peeves,Preferred genres, andSubmission guidelinesReviewers are rated for quality and influence. This new edition includes several blog tour sites and their submission guidelines. Learn how to get the exposure that your book deserves! Authors and book reviewers can sign up for alerts at: http://www.stepbystepselfpublishing.net *Note: This book is enrolled in the Kindle MATCHBOOK program. If you purchase the paperback from Amazon, the Kindle edition is free. The paperback has a genre index, which makes searching for accepted genres easy. The Kindle version has clickable website links (which is impossible to do in a paperback), so you can click directly to the reviewer's site and contact page. The publisher of this book recommends purchasing the paperback and then downloading the Kindle edition for free using Amazon's Matchbook program, and using both versions to maximize your promotion efforts. PROMO TIP: This is a reference book with active hyperlinks in the e-book. It is easier to view and use the Kindle edition of this book on a computer using Amazon's free Kindle app. That way, you can use the full screen to check genre preferences and submit your query right from your desktop.
PurchaseBarnes & Noble * Kobo * Amazon
Interview with Christine Pinheiro, Editor, Defiant Press The Book Reviewer Yellow Pages is a bestselling author’s promotional reference, designed specifically for authors who need book reviewers for their books.Where did you get the idea for the Book Reviewer Yellow Pages? At first, I did it purely out of self-interest! I wrote a nonfiction book in 2007, and I had a very difficult time finding book reviewers. It seemed like an impossible task. All of the regular outlets were closed to me—where do you go when you can’t get a review in the New York Times? Where do the “little guys” go when they need to promote their books? So I started the Book Reviewer Yellow Pages out of my own frustration. At first, the Book Reviewer Yellow Pages was just a big list on a simple website. I added to the list when I had spare time. Book reviewers started seeking me out, and asking to be put on the list, and it just grew from there. In 2009, I published the first “Book Reviewer Yellow Pages,” and the rest is history. The list just grew organically. Now we have hundreds of book reviewers on our list, and thousands of authors subscribe to the newsletter.
How about the book reviewers themselves, what do they get out of it? Many book reviewers just do it for fun, and they get the benefit of free books and ARCs (advance review copies). Quite a few of them also earn money, either from sidebar advertising, blog tours, or other author’s services. There are so many self-published authors out there right now, trying to promote their books without the help of a traditional publisher, so there’s a lot of little business ventures cropping up to serve them.
Many reviewers list their “pet peeves,” is this something that the authors really want to know? Yes! It’s the most popular part of the questionnaire—all the reviewers have their own horror stories. Sadly, many authors have terrible etiquette when they request book reviews. Many don’t take the time to even spell-check their queries, or find out if the reviewer is a man or a woman, so they can address them correctly! I used to review books myself, and it’s amazing how many times I’ve gotten a review request with nothing but a link to the book. No signature, no salutation, nothing! Why would I review your book, when you aren’t even willing to take a few minutes to send me a proper review request? We also added an “author etiquette” section to the front of the book, and that seems to help a bit.
Do Book Reviews really help sales? They’ve helped my own book sales tremendously, and I know hundreds of authors who would say the same. Look, everyone knows that book promotion is boring work. Contacting dozens of book reviewers is time consuming, and you have to deal with rejection, but the payoff from a positive book review is enormous. That’s been the case in my own writing career. Reviews really help sales, and it’s nice to have a public testimonial that customers can refer to when they purchase. On the flip side, many of the reviewers accept ARCs and also work as beta-readers, so if you can get a few good reviewers to read through your manuscript before publication, they might be able to give you valuable feedback. I found a big plot hole in one of my novels that way—a reviewer found the problem, and I was able to fix it before the book went to publication.
Do reviewers ever drop off the list? Can authors get updates? Yes, on our website. Reviewers get added and removed on a regular basis—and the list goes through a complete overhaul once a year. I do a formal update every April. That’s when we put out a new edition of the book, as well as update the reviewer list on the website. The abbreviated list on the website is free, and authors and publishers can sign up for updates to the list here: http://www.stepbystepselfpublishing.net. The newsletter is also free.
Do you have any advice for authors? Be polite to book reviewers, always. Not everyone is going to like your book, that’s just the nature of game. But publishing is a business, and it pays to be professional. It’s just like any other creative business. Reviewers are our critics, and they give us valuable feedback that we need to improve. One of the best reviews I ever received on the Book Reviewer Yellow Pages was mildly negative. The writer gave me tons of feedback on how to make the book better. I followed his advice, and the book has been more profitable since. Book Reviewers really want to help authors—I’ve never met a single book reviewer that was interested in just tearing an author down. We are all in this business together!
For more information visit: The Book Reviewer Yellow PagesWebsite * Facebook
Blast Giveaway $100 Amazon Gift Card or Paypal Cash Ends 5/31/14 Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code or Paypal Cash. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. Giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader, Not A Writer and sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW. a Rafflecopter giveaway
April 28, 2014
Scents and Senses
Scents and Senses: Supernatural Friends. What the fairy tales didn’t tell you Playing the role of a knight in shining armor is more complicated than it seems in the storybooks, as sixteen-year-old Joy discovers when she repeatedly comes to the rescue of a fifteen-year-old human. But when she meddles in the girl’s social life, Starra sends her packing. Starra is determined to completely dissociate herself from the subterranean creature that has manipulated her life and cast her into the limelight. However, her resolve is soon tested when she becomes involved in a critical situation where supernatural assistance can enable her to carry out a daring plot. Eventually, Starra’s involvement with her new other-wordly friends extracts a heavy price when she is beset by challenges that range from the down- to-earth struggles of a typical teenage student, to the realm of the fantastic. Nothing prepares her, however, for the ultimate challenge. Amazon * SmashwordsExcerptJoy Ever since I’ve been old enough to kick off on a condor with my own two chicken feet, I’ve been drilled to mind my own business. Mind your own business, the first of the American Ten Commandments. It’s not one I subscribe to, even though in our community, not minding my own business means more than social suicide; it’s a crime when we ascend above ground. For thousands of years we deeems have kept away from the creatures running over our heads with their five-toed feet. So if anyone in my community gets wind of the risky job I’m on these days, I’m practically a goner. But that doesn’t stop me from shadowing a certain teenage fivetoe. There’s also a totally different occupational hazard involved in this position I’ve created for myself, one I’m suffering from right now: this job occasionally makes school seem relatively stimulating. Yawn. I’ve played too many Angry Condor games to count since Starra got involved in some fantasy book a couple of hours ago and lost contact with the real world. Even if I knew how to become visible to the fivetoe eye and suddenly revealed myself, I bet she wouldn’t notice me, the cute teen perched on her windowsill. Time simply refuses to advance, and I have to resort to counting the spider eggs cocooned in their nest on a nearby tree branch. A sudden sigh interrupts my lame occupation. There’s a starry look in the big eyes, and I notice the novel is slipping out of Starra’s dreamy grip. This is my window of opportunity! I finger the starchy edge of the book jacket and coax the book forward. Thud. The book falls to the floor, and the movement seems to bring Starra back to her senses. At last she grabs a hoodie and sets out, probably for one of her night excursions on the Vista Del Mar Path. Are we running or biking tonight? Running it is. I jog behind her, finding the excursion by the shoreline an improvement to watching her read. At least we are moving. She runs for half an hour, at a speed faster than the sea turtle pace usual for fivetoes. Then she slows to a stop at a jagged rock, half-submerged in the ocean. I groan quietly and contemplate leaving. From experience, I know she’ll climb to the top of her rock and dream away. I start backing off, but when I’m some fifty feet away, I look back. Starra makes a pretty picture there, her silhouette perched high on the rock. Her long legs are tucked under her, and her head hangs back as she keeps her gaze on the stars above. If only she would let loose the heavy dark mane of hair she always twists up at the back of her neck, she would truly look like a mermaid risen from the sea. Something pulls me back to her. I can’t explain it, but I have a feeling trouble is lurking nearby, waiting to snatch her in its net. My chicken feet make an about face and follow Starra home as she takes the shorter route through town.
Tour Schedule
Author Loren Secretts Loren Secretts was raised in a book-filled home, in a sleepy east coast suburb of the US. These factors are undoubtedly responsible for her early design of a number of exciting imaginary worlds that she could escape to from time to time during her childhood. In her teen years, between schoolwork and lending an ear to her friends, Loren had less opportunity to go AWOL. Instead, her experience as a confidant to others inspired her to major in psychology in college and earn her M.A. in the field on the west coast. As an adult, Loren has found fulfillment in her work with children and families for more than a decade. Her passion for writing was revived when she discovered that she enjoyed delving into the human psyche to write psychological reports. But clients' reports are safe with Loren, who guards secrets fastidiously. Indeed, one of her aspirations is to work as a psychotherapist for the CIA, but since she now lives with her family in Canada, that dream will have to await its turn…
Website * Twitter * Facebook * Pinterest
Blast Giveaway $50 Amazon Gift Card or Paypal Cash Ends 5/27/14 Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code or Paypal Cash. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. Giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader, Not A Writer and sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW. a Rafflecopter giveaway
April 27, 2014
Falling to Pieces
Suffering the bitter tongues of her alcoholic mother and cruel boyfriend, Jade struggles just to look at herself in the mirror. She hates her life, her insecurities, her ineptitudes, but most of all . . . Jade hates herself. She wants nothing more than to disappear, and everyone seems happy to let her. Until Kiernan Parks moves back into town. Jade’s been crushing on him ever since kindergarten, when his family moved away. But now he’s back, and looking better than ever.
Hiding is a way of life for Jade, but Kiernan insists on uncovering the real girl he’s sees trapped inside her. On drawing her out of her shell, and showing her that she is someone worthy of love.
Together, they fight back the darkness she’s living in. But when they finally step into the light, will the secret Kiernan’s been trying to keep buried destroy Jade, once and for all?
For some people, happy endings are a fairytale.
My thoughts: Jamie Canosa does it again! A brilliant tale of a broken girl and the boy who helps her put the pieces together again. Heartbreaking and full of hope all at once, you won’t be able to remove Jade and Kiernan from your heart once you’ve let them in.
Jade Carlson has spent her life internalizing the ugly taunts of her alcoholic mother until it’s become the truth she believes about herself. She even has a boyfriend who confirms everything her mother has convinced her of—that she’s ugly, stupid, and worthless. Enter Kiernan Parks, who comes to the rescue of the bullied girl—whether she wants him to or not. Just about the time Kiernan begins to convince her that she’s the opposite of what she’s been raised to believe, a tragic truth comes to light that just might undo everything Kiernan has done for her.
Fantastically drawn characters and a rich storyline make this one you won’t want to miss. I seriously loved this book, and highly recommend it.
ONLY 99 CENTS for a LIMITED TIME!!!Amazon Goodreads
Author Info:
Jamie Canosa is a full time author of YA/NA literature, which she absolutely loves. When she’s not writing or spending time with her family, she can usually be found with her nose in a book. She currently resides in Upstate NY with her husband, and their three crazy kids . . . plus the cat, the bird, and the rabbit.Author Links:
Blog
