Ariella Moon's Blog, page 23
September 23, 2015
They like me...they like me not.NEXT DOOR TO A STAR by Kr...
They like me...they like me not.
NEXT DOOR TO A STAR by Krysten Lindsay HagerGenre: Young Adult Romance★ SYNOPSIS ★Hadley Daniels is tired of feeling invisible.After Hadley’s best friend moves away and she gets on the bad side of some girls at school, she goes to spend the summer with her grandparents in the Lake Michigan resort town of Grand Haven. Her next door neighbor is none other than teen TV star Simone Hendrickson, who is everything Hadley longs to be—pretty, popular, and famous—and she’s thrilled when Simone treats her like a friend.
Being popular is a lot harder than it looks.
It’s fun and flattering when Simone includes her in her circle, though Hadley is puzzled about why her new friend refuses to discuss her former Hollywood life. Caught up with Simone, Hadley finds herself ignoring her quiet, steadfast friend, Charlotte.
To make things even more complicated, along comes Nick Jenkins…
He’s sweet, good-looking, and Hadley can be herself around him without all the fake drama. However, the mean girls have other ideas and they fill Nick’s head with lies about Hadley, sending him running back to his ex-girlfriend and leaving Hadley heartbroken.
So when her parents decide to relocate to Grand Haven, Hadley hopes things will change when school starts…only to be disappointed once again.
Cliques.
Back-stabbing.
Love gone bad.
Is this really what it’s like to live… Next Door To A Star?
★ ★ PURCHASE ★ ★
AMAZON: http://amzn.to/1QEFOwD
PAPERBACK: http://amzn.to/1QEFPRp
iTUNES: http://apple.co/1UTWj8L
B&N: http://bit.ly/1PQf9McBOOKS A MILLION: http://bit.ly/1M07cGFKOBO: http://bit.ly/1gpLr4G
★ ★ BOOK TRAILER ★ ★YOUTUBE: http://bit.ly/1F1KUCa
★ ★ EXCERPT ★ ★The school year should end right after spring break, because all anyone can focus on is summer vacation. You can’t learn anything new, because all you can think about is all the fun stuff you’re going to do once you don’t have to get up at the butt crack of dawn. Summer always seems full of possibilities.
Nothing exciting ever happens during the school year, but maybe, during summer vacation, you could run into a hot celebrity and he’d decide to put you in his next music video. Okay, it wasn’t like I knew anybody that happened to, but my grandparents did live next door to a former TV star, Simone Hendrickson, and Simone was discovered in an ice cream parlor one summer. Of course, she lived in L.A. at the time and was already doing plays and commercials, so the guy who discovered her had already seen her perform. But hey, it was summer, she got discovered, and that was all that mattered.
Amazing stuff didn’t happen to me. You know what happened to me last summer? I stepped on a bee and had to go to the emergency room. They’re not going to make an E! True Hollywood Story out of my life. I didn’t go on exotic vacations—like today, I was being dragged along with my parents to my cousin’s graduation party. Most people waited until at least the end of May before having a grad party, but Charisma was having hers early because she was leaving on a trip to Spain. I was dreading this party because I didn’t want to listen to everybody talk about how smart and talented Charisma was—making me feel like a blob in comparison—but my mom RSVP’d even though I said I’d rather die than go. My death threats meant nothing. But still, for some strange reason, I had a feeling this summer was going to be different.
★ ★ KRYSTEN LINDSAY HAGER ★ ★
Krysten Lindsay Hager is an obsessive reader and has never met a bookstore she didn’t like. She’s worked as a journalist and humor essayist, and writes for teens, tweens, and adults. She is the author of the Landry’s True Colors Series and her work has been featured in USA Today and named as Amazon’s #1 Hot New Releases in Teen & Young Adult Values and Virtues Fiction and Amazon’s #1 Hot New Releases in Children’s Books on Values. She’s originally from Michigan and has lived in South Dakota, Portugal, and southwestern Ohio. She received her master’s degree from the University of Michigan-Flint.LIMITLESS PUBLISHING: http://www.limitlesspublishing.net/authors/krysten-lindsay-hager/WEBSITE: http://www.krystenlindsay.com/GOODREADS: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8298036.Krysten_Lindsay_HagerTWITTER: https://twitter.com/KrystenLindsayFACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/KrystenLindsayHagerAuthorGOOGLE +: https://plus.google.com/+KrystenLindsayHager/posts
Lydia & Crystal HEA Book Tours, PR & More Now joined with BOOK JUNKY TOURS PR & MORE Creating hype. Spreading the word. ★ Blogger mailing list | NEWSLETTER: http://eepurl.com/biZChn ★ Blogger MASTER list: http://bit.ly/MasterListHEA ★ https://www.facebook.com/HeaBookTours ★ http://heabooktours.blogspot.com/ ★ https://twitter.com/HeaBookToursPR HEA Book Tours PR & More is now associated with BOOK JUNKY TOURS PR & MORE
September 9, 2015
Operation: Bully Renovation
Don't be fooled by the cartoon cover. Operation: Bully Renovation is a middle grade chapter book about a bully who has a change of heart and sets out to make amends. His former victims are happy to seek revenge!
About the Author:
From the time she was old enough to talk, Katy Newton Naas has been creating characters and telling stories. As a child, they sometimes got her into trouble. She knew she wanted to write books when she won a Young Author's competition as a second-grader for her short story titled, "The Grape Pie." (Don't let its tasty title fool you - it was actually a sad little tale!)
Katy devoured books as a child and young adult, always doing chores and odd jobs in order to make enough money to buy more of them. Though she continues to age, her true literature love is and has always been children's and young adult fiction.
Katy currently teaches middle school reading and high school English in southern Illinois, as well as children's church. She graduated from Southern Illinois University-Carbondale with a bachelor's degree in English Education and a master's degree in Reading and Language Studies. She enjoys her life out in the country with her husband, her two sweet and rowdy young sons, and all her other “kids”: four dogs, three cats, and eight ducks.
She loves creating both realistic and futuristic stories about kids, tweens, and teens, and feels so fortunate to get to work with them every day as a teacher.
Connect with Katy Newton Naas:
Website: http://katynaas.wix.com/katynewtonnaasauthorFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/katynewtonnaasauthor?ref=hlTwitter: https://twitter.com/KatyNewtonNaasInstagram: https://instagram.com/katynewtonnaas/Blog: https://katynewtonnaas.wordpress.com/Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8562833.Katy_Newton_Naas
Back Cover Blurb:
Jack Sullivan is Blackwell Middle School’s scariest bully. When students and teachers see him coming down the hallway, they run the other way. He has no friends; he doesn’t need them. School is a waste of his time. But after a car accident with his father leaves him in need of surgery, Jack has to have a tissue donor. Strangely, he then begins having memories from events that never actually happened to him – memories of being bullied by bigger, meaner boys. Jack learns he is experiencing cellular memory, which makes him receive the memories of his tissue donor…who just so happened to be a weak, helpless victim of bullying. Jack decides he has to make things right. To do that, he offers each of his former victims an apology, along with the chance to choose a way to get even with him. But Jack quickly learns that earning their forgiveness won’t be easy...
Victims of the school’s scariest bully are invited to get revenge…
EXCERPT:
Prologue Jack shoved the head of the writhing boy further into the toilet, feeling a small glimmer of satisfaction as he listened to the muffled screams. He watched the water bubbles come up from the nameless boy’s mouth as he tried to make noise and fought a useless battle, trying to escape the grip of Jack’s large fingers on his neck. Jack continued to hold the boy’s head under the water, waiting patiently for the boy to stop moving. When he did, Jack quickly pulled his head back out of the water, watching the helpless boy gasp for breath and slap the water off his face while tears filled his eyes. “If you tell anyone what just happened, I’ll kill you,” Jack growled at the boy, giving him his most convincing glare before he casually walked away, leaving the boy crumpled on the floor, drowning in his own sobs.
Jack walked out of the locker room and rejoined the rest of the members of his gym class just as the dismissal bell rang, signaling the end of his school day. He shoved past several students who were heading for the gym doors, ignoring their grunts and protests as he bumped into them from behind. He knew that as soon as the other students saw who was pushing past them they would quickly shut their mouths in fear. No one wanted to make Jack Sullivan mad. No one even wanted to be on his radar. He was crazy. Unpredictable. No one messed with him; no one even looked at him. The scrawny new boy in gym class had just learned that the hard way. A nice swirly would teach him to ask Jack to pass him the ball.
Jack smiled to himself as he walked down the middle of the hallway, thinking about his own reputation. Every boy and every girl that roamed the halls of Blackwell Middle School was terrified of him. It was obvious at all times, even as he made his way out of the building. The other kids intentionally averted their gazes and deliberately moved to the other side of the hallway to avoid any accidental contact. Even the teachers pretended to be engrossed in something else whenever he came into view. He smirked slightly as Mr. Andrews stared at the file in his hand while he passed, never smiling up at him or even glancing in his direction with so much as a nod, though he’d greeted the group of students a few feet in front of him only moments ago. There was no doubt that he brought terror to the hearts of others, both kids and adults.
That was just the way Jack preferred it. He didn’t need friends; he had no interest in any of the idiots that surrounded him in his classes. He hated school, hated the teachers, hated the classes, and hated the structure of it all. He hated the clubs and the sports and even the stupid cardinal mascot that covered the walls of the building. If everyone were scared of him, no one would try to talk to him. He felt invincible as he pushed through the double doors of the front of the building.
Trudging down the sidewalk toward his home, he never looked back at the building he had come to loathe so much. He couldn’t wait for the day when he’d never have to step foot in that hole of a school again. As an eighth grader, he didn’t have too much longer to wait.
He often considered quitting. He would call it an early retirement, he decided. But then he would remember the state’s dumb law that a person has to be sixteen to quit and be left alone. If he stopped showing up now, the feds would get involved and make his life complicated. Not that he was scared of a bunch of low-life feds; he wasn’t. But he knew they wouldn’t be as easy to avoid as his teachers and the students at school. If he could just hold out for a couple more years, he could quit and no one would bother him about any laws. So for now, he showed up most days, keeping the number of days he skipped strategically low so that they would go unnoticed.
As he approached two girls standing together near the end of the block, giggling incessantly, Jack wrinkled up his nose in disgust. He glared in their general direction, laughing on the inside when their annoying high-pitched laughs ceased at once. It was more than fear that the kids felt toward him, he decided. It was respect. And to Jack, respect was the most important thing in the world.
Buy Links: Amazon
About the Author:From the time she was old enough to talk, Katy Newton Naas has been creating characters and telling stories. As a child, they sometimes got her into trouble. She knew she wanted to write books when she won a Young Author's competition as a second-grader for her short story titled, "The Grape Pie." (Don't let its tasty title fool you - it was actually a sad little tale!)
Katy devoured books as a child and young adult, always doing chores and odd jobs in order to make enough money to buy more of them. Though she continues to age, her true literature love is and has always been children's and young adult fiction.
Katy currently teaches middle school reading and high school English in southern Illinois, as well as children's church. She graduated from Southern Illinois University-Carbondale with a bachelor's degree in English Education and a master's degree in Reading and Language Studies. She enjoys her life out in the country with her husband, her two sweet and rowdy young sons, and all her other “kids”: four dogs, three cats, and eight ducks.
She loves creating both realistic and futuristic stories about kids, tweens, and teens, and feels so fortunate to get to work with them every day as a teacher.
Connect with Katy Newton Naas:
Website: http://katynaas.wix.com/katynewtonnaasauthorFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/katynewtonnaasauthor?ref=hlTwitter: https://twitter.com/KatyNewtonNaasInstagram: https://instagram.com/katynewtonnaas/Blog: https://katynewtonnaas.wordpress.com/Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8562833.Katy_Newton_Naas
Back Cover Blurb:
Jack Sullivan is Blackwell Middle School’s scariest bully. When students and teachers see him coming down the hallway, they run the other way. He has no friends; he doesn’t need them. School is a waste of his time. But after a car accident with his father leaves him in need of surgery, Jack has to have a tissue donor. Strangely, he then begins having memories from events that never actually happened to him – memories of being bullied by bigger, meaner boys. Jack learns he is experiencing cellular memory, which makes him receive the memories of his tissue donor…who just so happened to be a weak, helpless victim of bullying. Jack decides he has to make things right. To do that, he offers each of his former victims an apology, along with the chance to choose a way to get even with him. But Jack quickly learns that earning their forgiveness won’t be easy...
Victims of the school’s scariest bully are invited to get revenge…
EXCERPT:
Prologue Jack shoved the head of the writhing boy further into the toilet, feeling a small glimmer of satisfaction as he listened to the muffled screams. He watched the water bubbles come up from the nameless boy’s mouth as he tried to make noise and fought a useless battle, trying to escape the grip of Jack’s large fingers on his neck. Jack continued to hold the boy’s head under the water, waiting patiently for the boy to stop moving. When he did, Jack quickly pulled his head back out of the water, watching the helpless boy gasp for breath and slap the water off his face while tears filled his eyes. “If you tell anyone what just happened, I’ll kill you,” Jack growled at the boy, giving him his most convincing glare before he casually walked away, leaving the boy crumpled on the floor, drowning in his own sobs.
Jack walked out of the locker room and rejoined the rest of the members of his gym class just as the dismissal bell rang, signaling the end of his school day. He shoved past several students who were heading for the gym doors, ignoring their grunts and protests as he bumped into them from behind. He knew that as soon as the other students saw who was pushing past them they would quickly shut their mouths in fear. No one wanted to make Jack Sullivan mad. No one even wanted to be on his radar. He was crazy. Unpredictable. No one messed with him; no one even looked at him. The scrawny new boy in gym class had just learned that the hard way. A nice swirly would teach him to ask Jack to pass him the ball.
Jack smiled to himself as he walked down the middle of the hallway, thinking about his own reputation. Every boy and every girl that roamed the halls of Blackwell Middle School was terrified of him. It was obvious at all times, even as he made his way out of the building. The other kids intentionally averted their gazes and deliberately moved to the other side of the hallway to avoid any accidental contact. Even the teachers pretended to be engrossed in something else whenever he came into view. He smirked slightly as Mr. Andrews stared at the file in his hand while he passed, never smiling up at him or even glancing in his direction with so much as a nod, though he’d greeted the group of students a few feet in front of him only moments ago. There was no doubt that he brought terror to the hearts of others, both kids and adults.
That was just the way Jack preferred it. He didn’t need friends; he had no interest in any of the idiots that surrounded him in his classes. He hated school, hated the teachers, hated the classes, and hated the structure of it all. He hated the clubs and the sports and even the stupid cardinal mascot that covered the walls of the building. If everyone were scared of him, no one would try to talk to him. He felt invincible as he pushed through the double doors of the front of the building.
Trudging down the sidewalk toward his home, he never looked back at the building he had come to loathe so much. He couldn’t wait for the day when he’d never have to step foot in that hole of a school again. As an eighth grader, he didn’t have too much longer to wait.
He often considered quitting. He would call it an early retirement, he decided. But then he would remember the state’s dumb law that a person has to be sixteen to quit and be left alone. If he stopped showing up now, the feds would get involved and make his life complicated. Not that he was scared of a bunch of low-life feds; he wasn’t. But he knew they wouldn’t be as easy to avoid as his teachers and the students at school. If he could just hold out for a couple more years, he could quit and no one would bother him about any laws. So for now, he showed up most days, keeping the number of days he skipped strategically low so that they would go unnoticed.
As he approached two girls standing together near the end of the block, giggling incessantly, Jack wrinkled up his nose in disgust. He glared in their general direction, laughing on the inside when their annoying high-pitched laughs ceased at once. It was more than fear that the kids felt toward him, he decided. It was respect. And to Jack, respect was the most important thing in the world.
Buy Links: Amazon
August 26, 2015
Andy Lewter's Follow-up to Gifted
Fellow Clean Reads author Andy Lewter will soon release the next installment in the Valens Series!
“Through the body, strength and healing prevail.”
After her experience during spring break, Abigail Everett battles to fill the role she inherited as the leader of Valens – people that possess unparalleled strength and dangerous mind powers.
Being forced to choose between what her heart wants and what is right, contending with captivating peer pressures, and nearing the brink of war, she must prove herself worthy. Not only to those who follow her legacy, but to herself.
Will she be able to stop this war before it begins?
Pre-order link: http://www.amazon.com/Supremacy-Valens-Book-Andy-Lewter-ebook/dp/B012EQE5RG/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1439698522&sr=8-1&keywords=supremacy+a+valens+series
Also by Andy Lewter:
“Through the body, strength and healing prevail.”
After her experience during spring break, Abigail Everett battles to fill the role she inherited as the leader of Valens – people that possess unparalleled strength and dangerous mind powers.
Being forced to choose between what her heart wants and what is right, contending with captivating peer pressures, and nearing the brink of war, she must prove herself worthy. Not only to those who follow her legacy, but to herself.
Will she be able to stop this war before it begins?
Pre-order link: http://www.amazon.com/Supremacy-Valens-Book-Andy-Lewter-ebook/dp/B012EQE5RG/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1439698522&sr=8-1&keywords=supremacy+a+valens+series
Also by Andy Lewter:
August 22, 2015
Tamie Dearen's New Young Adult Fantasy Cover Reveal!
See below for special pricing on both books through August 31, 2015.Cover Reveal for Alora: The PortalThe compelling story of the young soulmates, Alora and Kaevin, continues...The adventure begins with Alora: The Wander-Jewel.
[image error]
Fifteen-year-old Alora has visions.Only while in the shower. And only of one stranger: a handsome boy with long brown hair, intense green eyes, and the oddest clothes. A boy who vanishes whenever she opens her eyes.And then one day, he doesn't…Alora's safe world is soon turned upside-down as she's thrust into another realm where her soulmate waits, magic abounds, and unfathomable evil seeks to claim her.
The epic fantasy continues in Alora: The Portal .
[image error]
Cover design by StunningBookCovers.comIf one of them dies, they both die.Bound together as soulmates, something compels Alora and Kaevin to abandon the safety of their refuge for the dangers of Kaevin’s realm.
The soulmates arrive in the midst of a raging battle as Stone Clan warriors defend their capital, an attack made more deadly by the pervasive evil of her father. Alora and Kaevin face mortal danger as they fight against man and magick to preserve Kaevin's home and heritage.
For Alora's father will have her allegiance. Or her death.
Praise for Alora"...I have to admit - I wish the book had not ended! ...The romance is sweet rather than steamy making this a clean read for young adults, but the action and adventure is thrilling enough to keep any age reader turning pages..." Today's Visions
"I found Alora to be a breath of fresh air in the YA fantasy genre! ... A YA fantasy with characters you will adore and cheer for, Alora is a book I would recommend to any of my friends!" Books Are Sanity
Alora: The Portal is available on Amazon for the special pre-order price of 99¢ through the August 31 release date! As a bonus, Alora:The Wander-Jewel will be FREE on August 30 through August 31!
Find Tamie Dearen on her website, Amazon, Facebook, and Twitter.
Excerpt from Alora: The Wander-JewelAlora fought the urge to beat on the tile wall. He’d disappeared again. Who was thisboy she kept seeing? Why did he only appear when she was in the shower? He seemed soreal, and she could have sworn he looked as confused as she felt. As if he was trying tofigure out who she was, as well. Was he a figment of her imagination? His eyes were sounusual. They were green. Not an ordinary green, but a deep, intense jade, the color ofher aunt’s emerald ring. He was really cute, although he wore his wavy brown hair a littlelong for her taste. Yet she could only see his head—never his clothes or the background.Today he’d tied his hair back in a ponytail. Surely the fact he’d changed his hair wassignificant. Wouldn’t a figment of her imagination have his hair the same every time?
She peeked around the shower curtain at the clock on the bathroom counter. It wasfive a.m. on a Saturday, and she had chores to do, feeding the horses and letting thechickens out. But it was winter, so she had plenty of time to spare before the rising suntolled the beginning of her responsibilities. Living on a ranch in the backcountry ofMontana meant cold winters, lots of work, and little time for leisure. It was the only lifeshe’d ever known, and she usually enjoyed it, despite the heavy work involved.But right now, she wanted another stab at seeing that boy. The image was always sofuzzy. If only he wouldn’t disappear when she opened her eyes. She couldn’t summon hisvisage at will. He didn’t come every time she closed her eyes in the shower; it seemed tohappen when she was relaxing and letting the water beat down on her head and shoulders.Maybe, if she were soaking in the tub, she might see his image again.
She pushed the curtain back, put in the stopper, and turned the faucet on full blast. Asan afterthought, she added bubble bath, filling the tub with fragrant suds. Soon the bathwas full, with aromatic bubbles foaming on top. She eased into the soothing water,closing her eyes at the blissful caress of the heat on her tight muscles. And she waited.Anticipating. Would he come? She tried to stay alert, but the relaxing warmth seeped intoher skin, lulling her to sleep.
Awakening with a start in the cold water, disappointment formed a knot in herstomach—he’d never appeared. She released some water down the drain and added hotwater, swirling it around until the temperature was comfortable again. She had five moreminutes before she had to abandon her bath to start her workday. She lay back down,sinking below the water with her eyes closed, swishing the fresh water over her skin toremove the bubble bath film, her face floating above the surface to breathe.
He appeared. She held her breath, clamping her eyes shut tight, trying to hold theimage as long as possible. Though the apparition was still slightly blurry, she could seeall of him, head to toe. She took advantage of her increased perception, thoroughlystudying his image. She almost clapped her hands when her mental measurementestimated his height at over six feet. At five feet ten, she was taller than most boys herage. But she scolded herself for examining him as if he were a potential boyfriend. Hewasn’t even real. His clothes were made of supple-looking brown leather. The attire wasodd—held together with ties and toggles rather than buttons or zippers. The fit was closeenough that his well-formed muscles were evident. She noted his long hair was tied back,as it had been earlier. She could only see the front of him as he stood frozen, stock-still,with his mouth agape, his jewel-green eyes wide and... moving. His eyes were moving, upand down, as if he were scanning her body as she had done. And it occurred to her if shecould see all of him, he might be able to see all of her.
She gasped, opening her eyes to dispense with the specter. But his image remained,now sharp and clear. And he seemed to be standing in her bathroom. She cowered underthe water, attempting to hide under the few remaining bubbles. His eyes dropped down toher navel, and as they widened, he whispered, “Wendelle?”
Lunging for her towel on the floor, she screamed at the top of her lungs. Hastilycovering herself and preparing to leap from the tub, she looked up, only to discover thevision was gone—if indeed it had been a vision.
Read the first two chapters of Alora: The Wander-Jewel here.
[image error]
Fifteen-year-old Alora has visions.Only while in the shower. And only of one stranger: a handsome boy with long brown hair, intense green eyes, and the oddest clothes. A boy who vanishes whenever she opens her eyes.And then one day, he doesn't…Alora's safe world is soon turned upside-down as she's thrust into another realm where her soulmate waits, magic abounds, and unfathomable evil seeks to claim her.
The epic fantasy continues in Alora: The Portal .
[image error]
Cover design by StunningBookCovers.comIf one of them dies, they both die.Bound together as soulmates, something compels Alora and Kaevin to abandon the safety of their refuge for the dangers of Kaevin’s realm.
The soulmates arrive in the midst of a raging battle as Stone Clan warriors defend their capital, an attack made more deadly by the pervasive evil of her father. Alora and Kaevin face mortal danger as they fight against man and magick to preserve Kaevin's home and heritage.
For Alora's father will have her allegiance. Or her death.
Praise for Alora"...I have to admit - I wish the book had not ended! ...The romance is sweet rather than steamy making this a clean read for young adults, but the action and adventure is thrilling enough to keep any age reader turning pages..." Today's Visions
"I found Alora to be a breath of fresh air in the YA fantasy genre! ... A YA fantasy with characters you will adore and cheer for, Alora is a book I would recommend to any of my friends!" Books Are Sanity
Alora: The Portal is available on Amazon for the special pre-order price of 99¢ through the August 31 release date! As a bonus, Alora:The Wander-Jewel will be FREE on August 30 through August 31!
Find Tamie Dearen on her website, Amazon, Facebook, and Twitter.
Excerpt from Alora: The Wander-JewelAlora fought the urge to beat on the tile wall. He’d disappeared again. Who was thisboy she kept seeing? Why did he only appear when she was in the shower? He seemed soreal, and she could have sworn he looked as confused as she felt. As if he was trying tofigure out who she was, as well. Was he a figment of her imagination? His eyes were sounusual. They were green. Not an ordinary green, but a deep, intense jade, the color ofher aunt’s emerald ring. He was really cute, although he wore his wavy brown hair a littlelong for her taste. Yet she could only see his head—never his clothes or the background.Today he’d tied his hair back in a ponytail. Surely the fact he’d changed his hair wassignificant. Wouldn’t a figment of her imagination have his hair the same every time?
She peeked around the shower curtain at the clock on the bathroom counter. It wasfive a.m. on a Saturday, and she had chores to do, feeding the horses and letting thechickens out. But it was winter, so she had plenty of time to spare before the rising suntolled the beginning of her responsibilities. Living on a ranch in the backcountry ofMontana meant cold winters, lots of work, and little time for leisure. It was the only lifeshe’d ever known, and she usually enjoyed it, despite the heavy work involved.But right now, she wanted another stab at seeing that boy. The image was always sofuzzy. If only he wouldn’t disappear when she opened her eyes. She couldn’t summon hisvisage at will. He didn’t come every time she closed her eyes in the shower; it seemed tohappen when she was relaxing and letting the water beat down on her head and shoulders.Maybe, if she were soaking in the tub, she might see his image again.
She pushed the curtain back, put in the stopper, and turned the faucet on full blast. Asan afterthought, she added bubble bath, filling the tub with fragrant suds. Soon the bathwas full, with aromatic bubbles foaming on top. She eased into the soothing water,closing her eyes at the blissful caress of the heat on her tight muscles. And she waited.Anticipating. Would he come? She tried to stay alert, but the relaxing warmth seeped intoher skin, lulling her to sleep.
Awakening with a start in the cold water, disappointment formed a knot in herstomach—he’d never appeared. She released some water down the drain and added hotwater, swirling it around until the temperature was comfortable again. She had five moreminutes before she had to abandon her bath to start her workday. She lay back down,sinking below the water with her eyes closed, swishing the fresh water over her skin toremove the bubble bath film, her face floating above the surface to breathe.
He appeared. She held her breath, clamping her eyes shut tight, trying to hold theimage as long as possible. Though the apparition was still slightly blurry, she could seeall of him, head to toe. She took advantage of her increased perception, thoroughlystudying his image. She almost clapped her hands when her mental measurementestimated his height at over six feet. At five feet ten, she was taller than most boys herage. But she scolded herself for examining him as if he were a potential boyfriend. Hewasn’t even real. His clothes were made of supple-looking brown leather. The attire wasodd—held together with ties and toggles rather than buttons or zippers. The fit was closeenough that his well-formed muscles were evident. She noted his long hair was tied back,as it had been earlier. She could only see the front of him as he stood frozen, stock-still,with his mouth agape, his jewel-green eyes wide and... moving. His eyes were moving, upand down, as if he were scanning her body as she had done. And it occurred to her if shecould see all of him, he might be able to see all of her.
She gasped, opening her eyes to dispense with the specter. But his image remained,now sharp and clear. And he seemed to be standing in her bathroom. She cowered underthe water, attempting to hide under the few remaining bubbles. His eyes dropped down toher navel, and as they widened, he whispered, “Wendelle?”
Lunging for her towel on the floor, she screamed at the top of her lungs. Hastilycovering herself and preparing to leap from the tub, she looked up, only to discover thevision was gone—if indeed it had been a vision.
Read the first two chapters of Alora: The Wander-Jewel here.
August 19, 2015
Ballet and Multicultural Sweet Romance from Kathy Bosman
Do you love ballet? Sweet romance? Me, too.
That's why one of the characters in the Teen Wytche Saga is a former ballerina.
Today's spotlight is on The Dance of the Firefly, a multicultural, second-chance-at-love contemporary romance set in the world of ballet.Welcome Kathy Bosman and her novel, The Dance of the Firefly.
The Dance of the FireflyKathy Bosman
Blurb:
Mix together a beautiful ballerina and ballet teacher, a sexy single dad, and a precocious-yet-sweet daughter, and emotions run high. Add racial and cultural differences, work contracts coming to an end, and hurts and memories from the past and sparks fly.
Rowena loves to dance but has ended up teaching ballet instead. When she helps out Cameron’s difficult daughter, a bond develops between the two dancers. Cameron makes Rowena uncomfortable because he stirs up new, unwanted feelings which make no sense when he intends to leave Zambia soon when his contract ends.
Cameron can’t resist sanguine live-wire Rowena who makes his daughter smile for the first time in years. But can he risk his heart again when memories of his late wife come back to haunt him? And Rowena has a lot more at stake in giving her all.
Excerpt
Cameron slipped out the door before Rowena spotted him watching her. His heart rate betrayed his surprise. He’d never seen anything so beautiful. Samantha used to dance beautifully, but not with so much feeling. His late wife’s ballet had been a perfect craft. Each step melded into the next neatly and graciously, without anything out of line. He felt like he could almost see the imaginary lines on the stage when she danced. The perfect spaces she kept on.
Not this woman. Her dancing was rough, raw, and deep. In those few moments of watching Rowena through the high studio window from the dark outside, his whole soul had been shaken to the core. It was as if she’d touched something deep inside of him.
Since Samantha died, the only human being who mattered was Jamey. Few people understood what it was like to lose a spouse after six years of marriage and eight years together. It was like losing a leg or an arm. Everything you did was crippled. Every moment of every day, you remembered your loss and felt less capable of achieving your goals.
So how could he be so fascinated with another woman? He climbed into his Land Rover and took a potholed road to Kalundu to pick up Jamey. The familiar jarring of the huge gashes in the tar forced him to drive slowly. In some places, the surface of the road consisted of more dirt than tar. Boredom lulled him into a dream world.
Flashes of the teacher’s dance came back to him. Why couldn’t he stop thinking of it? Why did he suddenly long to take the woman in his arms and kiss her thoroughly? Her pertinence had attracted him. The raw energy she displayed had drawn him. The young woman’s unusual appearance had fascinated him. He’d been mesmerized by her fake blonde streaks against dark, straightened locks pulled into a tight ponytail, clear green eyes, and caramel skin. The unusual coloring and bone structure, with her high cheekbones and pointy chin, were softened by the smoothest-looking skin he’d even seen and rounded cheeks.
Saturday was going to be interesting. Not like he would pursue anything. He wasn’t ready for a romantic relationship. But browsing was free. Experiencing a person from a distance should be safe. Pity he couldn’t spy on the class. He had the means to, but would his conscience let him? A small smile tugged at his mouth. He could watch her before and after the lesson. In his mind’s eye, Samantha peered at him from the stage, her body poised in an elevated step, questioning him with her gaze, her gentle smile warming his heart. Yeah, it wasn’t time yet. Would his memories ever let him think of anyone other than his late wife?
Excerpt 2
After supper, Jamey pulled Rowena down the passage.
“Wow,” she said. “What a pretty room.” She wasn’t just saying it. Cameron had put everything into his daughter’s space: Disney Princess curtains and matching duvet set, with fluffy soft toys displayed on floating shelves shaped as crowns. In the corner sat a four-poster, with a pink net cascading down the sides, a requirement in Zambia to keep malaria mosquitoes away at night. The nets were inconvenient, but Cameron had used hers to add a dreamy effect.
“Even your mosquito net has lacy edges,” she said, picking up a corner and fingering the sturdy lace.
“Where did you get it?”
“My daddy asked a lady to make it girly.”
“He’s very kind.”
“Look at my Barbie dolls. I have three ballerina ones. This one….” Her voice went quiet, almost reverent. “My mommy bought me this one a few months before she died. Her legs and arms bend, and she has a second pair of ballet shoes. Some black ones.”
“Now that’s pretty. I love black ballet shoes.”
“Really?”
“I did my first principal role with black ballet shoes. I was the bad witch in a show we danced in.”
Jamey stared at her. “Why did you want to be the witch?”
She suppressed a laugh. “I didn’t want to be a bad person, but the role was the hardest, and I considered it a privilege to be chosen.”
“Did you get a curtain call?”
“We all did. My teacher did a great job in writing the story and choreographing the ballet steps for us. The dance was so popular, we even did it in front of the president of Zambia.”
“Wow. My mommy used to dance in front of thousands of people. She was very popular.”
“What was her name?”
“She used her old name for her ballet name. Samantha Palmer.”
“Oh.” Rowena swallowed a lump in her throat. Samantha Palmer had been a well-known prima ballerina who danced for the South African Ballet Theatre, now called the South African Msanzi Ballet Company. She should know. She’d tried to get in there, with no success. Samantha had been one of her idols. The most graceful, delicate dancer she’d ever watched. Her role in Romeo and Juliet had been the highlight of her career, giving her international recognition. That had been five years ago. How long ago had she died? How had she died?
“Your mommy was a very talented dancer. You must have inherited some of her talent.”
“You think so?” Jamey asked. “It’s hard, though.”
“What?”
“Trying to dance like her.”
Her breath hitched. The girl had a difficult act to follow.
“You don’t have to dance like her. You must dance your own way. Everyone has his or her own style. You need to work on your strengths and concentrate on what you can do.”
Jamey nodded. “But Daddy misses watching Mommy. I’ve seen him play her ballets on the DVD player all through the night. If I could dance like her, maybe Daddy would be happy again.”
She suppressed a gasp. No wonder the kid had hated her ballet lessons. The pressure had been enormous on her.
“Your daddy is happy with you being a child and having fun. You don’t have to be too serious with your ballet, yet. It takes years to learn how to dance like your mother did.”
She nodded, her lips quivering.
“Your mommy would have wanted you to enjoy ballet. She wouldn’t want it to be something hard and too serious.”
“I suppose.”
“And it’s not your mommy’s ballet Daddy misses,” she said, taking Jamey into her arms and giving her a tight squeeze. “It’s her company at home. He watches her so he can remember her as a person.”
Jamey’s face was wet with tears.
“I’m sorry your mommy died.” Rowena wiped a tear away with her hand. “My mommy died a few days ago. I miss her so much.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I can imagine how you must miss her, being a kid.”
“I do.”
“But your daddy loves you whole bunches. He cares for you deeply.”
Jamey jumped off her lap and grabbed a puzzle. “This is my favorite. It’s of a hedgehog and a mole.”
“It’s cute.” Rowena was relieved to get away from the difficult subject of her deceased mother. She couldn’t bear to see how much it hurt Jamey not to have her mother with her. As much as she hated being without her mom, at least she’d had her growing up.
“We can make the jigsaw on the table in the lounge while the others watch rugby. I can hear them all cheering in there.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Don’t tell anyone, but I hate rugby.”
The girl giggled. “Me, too.”
She linked pinky fingers with Jamey. “Perfect. Then we can build the picture together and pretend to watch. Okay?”
The child nodded, the box gripped in her arms, her eyes shining. The smile came back, and Rowena let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. How could she become so attached to a kid so quickly? Something weird had happened. From worst student to tiny friend, a miracle had occurred. How could she push her new little friend away because her father made her feel uncomfortable—and too aware of her womanhood?
Author Bio:
Kathy loves reading and writing even more. She homeschools her three kids, so in between unsuccessfully explaining the difference between subject and predicate or how to divide fractions, she enters an imaginary world of troubled and passionate characters whose stories take over the page. Kathy lives in Kwazulu Natal, South Africa, where the summers are hot, the winters cool, and bugs thrive. Her first published novel, Wedding Gown Girl, came out in 2012 with Astraea Press. She belongs to the Romance Writers of South Africa Group (ROSA) which has been her greatest support and inspiration the last few years.
Buy Links:
AmazonBarnes & NobleSmashwords
Kobo:http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/eboo...
iTunes
Google Play
Online Links for Kathy:
Website and blog: http://www.kathybosman.com/
Facebook author page: http://www.facebook.com/KathleenBosman
Twitter: https://twitter.com/KathleenLBosman
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5257900.Kathy_Bosman
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/gracewalk17
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Kathy-Bosman/e/B007GCQBNK
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCxifimh0X62uZLvKkon8tDQ
Newsletter Subscription: http://eepurl.com/NokET
Tsu: https://www.tsu.co/LeenBee
Authorgraph: https://www.authorgraph.com/authors/KathleenLBosman
That's why one of the characters in the Teen Wytche Saga is a former ballerina.
Today's spotlight is on The Dance of the Firefly, a multicultural, second-chance-at-love contemporary romance set in the world of ballet.Welcome Kathy Bosman and her novel, The Dance of the Firefly.
The Dance of the FireflyKathy Bosman
Blurb:
Mix together a beautiful ballerina and ballet teacher, a sexy single dad, and a precocious-yet-sweet daughter, and emotions run high. Add racial and cultural differences, work contracts coming to an end, and hurts and memories from the past and sparks fly.
Rowena loves to dance but has ended up teaching ballet instead. When she helps out Cameron’s difficult daughter, a bond develops between the two dancers. Cameron makes Rowena uncomfortable because he stirs up new, unwanted feelings which make no sense when he intends to leave Zambia soon when his contract ends.
Cameron can’t resist sanguine live-wire Rowena who makes his daughter smile for the first time in years. But can he risk his heart again when memories of his late wife come back to haunt him? And Rowena has a lot more at stake in giving her all.
Excerpt
Cameron slipped out the door before Rowena spotted him watching her. His heart rate betrayed his surprise. He’d never seen anything so beautiful. Samantha used to dance beautifully, but not with so much feeling. His late wife’s ballet had been a perfect craft. Each step melded into the next neatly and graciously, without anything out of line. He felt like he could almost see the imaginary lines on the stage when she danced. The perfect spaces she kept on.
Not this woman. Her dancing was rough, raw, and deep. In those few moments of watching Rowena through the high studio window from the dark outside, his whole soul had been shaken to the core. It was as if she’d touched something deep inside of him.
Since Samantha died, the only human being who mattered was Jamey. Few people understood what it was like to lose a spouse after six years of marriage and eight years together. It was like losing a leg or an arm. Everything you did was crippled. Every moment of every day, you remembered your loss and felt less capable of achieving your goals.
So how could he be so fascinated with another woman? He climbed into his Land Rover and took a potholed road to Kalundu to pick up Jamey. The familiar jarring of the huge gashes in the tar forced him to drive slowly. In some places, the surface of the road consisted of more dirt than tar. Boredom lulled him into a dream world.
Flashes of the teacher’s dance came back to him. Why couldn’t he stop thinking of it? Why did he suddenly long to take the woman in his arms and kiss her thoroughly? Her pertinence had attracted him. The raw energy she displayed had drawn him. The young woman’s unusual appearance had fascinated him. He’d been mesmerized by her fake blonde streaks against dark, straightened locks pulled into a tight ponytail, clear green eyes, and caramel skin. The unusual coloring and bone structure, with her high cheekbones and pointy chin, were softened by the smoothest-looking skin he’d even seen and rounded cheeks.
Saturday was going to be interesting. Not like he would pursue anything. He wasn’t ready for a romantic relationship. But browsing was free. Experiencing a person from a distance should be safe. Pity he couldn’t spy on the class. He had the means to, but would his conscience let him? A small smile tugged at his mouth. He could watch her before and after the lesson. In his mind’s eye, Samantha peered at him from the stage, her body poised in an elevated step, questioning him with her gaze, her gentle smile warming his heart. Yeah, it wasn’t time yet. Would his memories ever let him think of anyone other than his late wife?
Excerpt 2
After supper, Jamey pulled Rowena down the passage.
“Wow,” she said. “What a pretty room.” She wasn’t just saying it. Cameron had put everything into his daughter’s space: Disney Princess curtains and matching duvet set, with fluffy soft toys displayed on floating shelves shaped as crowns. In the corner sat a four-poster, with a pink net cascading down the sides, a requirement in Zambia to keep malaria mosquitoes away at night. The nets were inconvenient, but Cameron had used hers to add a dreamy effect.
“Even your mosquito net has lacy edges,” she said, picking up a corner and fingering the sturdy lace.
“Where did you get it?”
“My daddy asked a lady to make it girly.”
“He’s very kind.”
“Look at my Barbie dolls. I have three ballerina ones. This one….” Her voice went quiet, almost reverent. “My mommy bought me this one a few months before she died. Her legs and arms bend, and she has a second pair of ballet shoes. Some black ones.”
“Now that’s pretty. I love black ballet shoes.”
“Really?”
“I did my first principal role with black ballet shoes. I was the bad witch in a show we danced in.”
Jamey stared at her. “Why did you want to be the witch?”
She suppressed a laugh. “I didn’t want to be a bad person, but the role was the hardest, and I considered it a privilege to be chosen.”
“Did you get a curtain call?”
“We all did. My teacher did a great job in writing the story and choreographing the ballet steps for us. The dance was so popular, we even did it in front of the president of Zambia.”
“Wow. My mommy used to dance in front of thousands of people. She was very popular.”
“What was her name?”
“She used her old name for her ballet name. Samantha Palmer.”
“Oh.” Rowena swallowed a lump in her throat. Samantha Palmer had been a well-known prima ballerina who danced for the South African Ballet Theatre, now called the South African Msanzi Ballet Company. She should know. She’d tried to get in there, with no success. Samantha had been one of her idols. The most graceful, delicate dancer she’d ever watched. Her role in Romeo and Juliet had been the highlight of her career, giving her international recognition. That had been five years ago. How long ago had she died? How had she died?
“Your mommy was a very talented dancer. You must have inherited some of her talent.”
“You think so?” Jamey asked. “It’s hard, though.”
“What?”
“Trying to dance like her.”
Her breath hitched. The girl had a difficult act to follow.
“You don’t have to dance like her. You must dance your own way. Everyone has his or her own style. You need to work on your strengths and concentrate on what you can do.”
Jamey nodded. “But Daddy misses watching Mommy. I’ve seen him play her ballets on the DVD player all through the night. If I could dance like her, maybe Daddy would be happy again.”
She suppressed a gasp. No wonder the kid had hated her ballet lessons. The pressure had been enormous on her.
“Your daddy is happy with you being a child and having fun. You don’t have to be too serious with your ballet, yet. It takes years to learn how to dance like your mother did.”
She nodded, her lips quivering.
“Your mommy would have wanted you to enjoy ballet. She wouldn’t want it to be something hard and too serious.”
“I suppose.”
“And it’s not your mommy’s ballet Daddy misses,” she said, taking Jamey into her arms and giving her a tight squeeze. “It’s her company at home. He watches her so he can remember her as a person.”
Jamey’s face was wet with tears.
“I’m sorry your mommy died.” Rowena wiped a tear away with her hand. “My mommy died a few days ago. I miss her so much.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I can imagine how you must miss her, being a kid.”
“I do.”
“But your daddy loves you whole bunches. He cares for you deeply.”
Jamey jumped off her lap and grabbed a puzzle. “This is my favorite. It’s of a hedgehog and a mole.”
“It’s cute.” Rowena was relieved to get away from the difficult subject of her deceased mother. She couldn’t bear to see how much it hurt Jamey not to have her mother with her. As much as she hated being without her mom, at least she’d had her growing up.
“We can make the jigsaw on the table in the lounge while the others watch rugby. I can hear them all cheering in there.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Don’t tell anyone, but I hate rugby.”
The girl giggled. “Me, too.”
She linked pinky fingers with Jamey. “Perfect. Then we can build the picture together and pretend to watch. Okay?”
The child nodded, the box gripped in her arms, her eyes shining. The smile came back, and Rowena let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. How could she become so attached to a kid so quickly? Something weird had happened. From worst student to tiny friend, a miracle had occurred. How could she push her new little friend away because her father made her feel uncomfortable—and too aware of her womanhood?
Author Bio:
Kathy loves reading and writing even more. She homeschools her three kids, so in between unsuccessfully explaining the difference between subject and predicate or how to divide fractions, she enters an imaginary world of troubled and passionate characters whose stories take over the page. Kathy lives in Kwazulu Natal, South Africa, where the summers are hot, the winters cool, and bugs thrive. Her first published novel, Wedding Gown Girl, came out in 2012 with Astraea Press. She belongs to the Romance Writers of South Africa Group (ROSA) which has been her greatest support and inspiration the last few years.
Buy Links:
AmazonBarnes & NobleSmashwords
Kobo:http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/eboo...
iTunes
Google Play
Online Links for Kathy:
Website and blog: http://www.kathybosman.com/
Facebook author page: http://www.facebook.com/KathleenBosman
Twitter: https://twitter.com/KathleenLBosman
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5257900.Kathy_Bosman
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/gracewalk17
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Kathy-Bosman/e/B007GCQBNK
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCxifimh0X62uZLvKkon8tDQ
Newsletter Subscription: http://eepurl.com/NokET
Tsu: https://www.tsu.co/LeenBee
Authorgraph: https://www.authorgraph.com/authors/KathleenLBosman
August 13, 2015
Cover Reveal: Krysten Lindsay Hager's Next Door to a Star
I am pleased to reveal this gorgeous new cover for Krysten Lindsay Hager's upcoming Young Adult Romance!
We are extremely excited to reveal the cover of NEXT DOOR TO A STAR by Krysten Lindsay Hager! This Young Adult Romance releases September 1st!
They like me...they like me not.
NEXT DOOR TO A STAR by Krysten Lindsay Hager
Genre: Young Adult Romance
★ SYNOPSIS ★
Hadley Daniels is tired of feeling invisible.
After Hadley’s best friend moves away and she gets on the bad side of some girls at school, she goes to spend the summer with her grandparents in the Lake Michigan resort town of Grand Haven. Her next door neighbor is none other than teen TV star Simone Hendrickson, who is everything Hadley longs to be—pretty, popular, and famous—and she’s thrilled when Simone treats her like a friend.
Being popular is a lot harder than it looks.
It’s fun and flattering when Simone includes her in her circle, though Hadley is puzzled about why her new friend refuses to discuss her former Hollywood life. Caught up with Simone, Hadley finds herself ignoring her quiet, steadfast friend, Charlotte.
To make things even more complicated, along comes Nick Jenkins…
He’s sweet, good-looking, and Hadley can be herself around him without all the fake drama. However, the mean girls have other ideas and they fill Nick’s head with lies about Hadley, sending him running back to his ex-girlfriend and leaving Hadley heartbroken.
So when her parents decide to relocate to Grand Haven, Hadley hopes things will change when school starts…only to be disappointed once again.
Cliques.
Back-stabbing.
Love gone bad.
Is this really what it’s like to live…
Next Door To A Star?
★ ★ KRYSTEN LINDSAY HAGER ★ ★
Krysten Lindsay Hager is an obsessive reader and has never met a bookstore she didn’t like. She’s worked as a journalist and humor essayist, and writes for teens, tweens, and adults. She is the author of the Landry’s True Colors Series and her work has been featured in USA Today and named as Amazon’s #1 Hot New Releases in Teen & Young Adult Values and Virtues Fiction and Amazon’s #1 Hot New Releases in Children’s Books on Values. She’s originally from Michigan and has lived in South Dakota, Portugal, and southwestern Ohio. She received her master’s degree from the University of Michigan-Flint.
LIMITLESS PUBLISHING: http://www.limitlesspublishing.net/authors/krysten-lindsay-hager/
WEBSITE: http://www.krystenlindsay.com/
GOODREADS: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8298036.Krysten_Lindsay_Hager
TWITTER: https://twitter.com/KrystenLindsay
FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/KrystenLindsayHagerAuthor
GOOGLE +: https://plus.google.com/+KrystenLindsayHager/posts
We are extremely excited to reveal the cover of NEXT DOOR TO A STAR by Krysten Lindsay Hager! This Young Adult Romance releases September 1st!
They like me...they like me not.
NEXT DOOR TO A STAR by Krysten Lindsay Hager
Genre: Young Adult Romance
★ SYNOPSIS ★
Hadley Daniels is tired of feeling invisible.
After Hadley’s best friend moves away and she gets on the bad side of some girls at school, she goes to spend the summer with her grandparents in the Lake Michigan resort town of Grand Haven. Her next door neighbor is none other than teen TV star Simone Hendrickson, who is everything Hadley longs to be—pretty, popular, and famous—and she’s thrilled when Simone treats her like a friend.
Being popular is a lot harder than it looks.
It’s fun and flattering when Simone includes her in her circle, though Hadley is puzzled about why her new friend refuses to discuss her former Hollywood life. Caught up with Simone, Hadley finds herself ignoring her quiet, steadfast friend, Charlotte.
To make things even more complicated, along comes Nick Jenkins…
He’s sweet, good-looking, and Hadley can be herself around him without all the fake drama. However, the mean girls have other ideas and they fill Nick’s head with lies about Hadley, sending him running back to his ex-girlfriend and leaving Hadley heartbroken.
So when her parents decide to relocate to Grand Haven, Hadley hopes things will change when school starts…only to be disappointed once again.
Cliques.
Back-stabbing.
Love gone bad.
Is this really what it’s like to live…
Next Door To A Star?
★ ★ KRYSTEN LINDSAY HAGER ★ ★
Krysten Lindsay Hager is an obsessive reader and has never met a bookstore she didn’t like. She’s worked as a journalist and humor essayist, and writes for teens, tweens, and adults. She is the author of the Landry’s True Colors Series and her work has been featured in USA Today and named as Amazon’s #1 Hot New Releases in Teen & Young Adult Values and Virtues Fiction and Amazon’s #1 Hot New Releases in Children’s Books on Values. She’s originally from Michigan and has lived in South Dakota, Portugal, and southwestern Ohio. She received her master’s degree from the University of Michigan-Flint.
LIMITLESS PUBLISHING: http://www.limitlesspublishing.net/authors/krysten-lindsay-hager/
WEBSITE: http://www.krystenlindsay.com/
GOODREADS: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8298036.Krysten_Lindsay_Hager
TWITTER: https://twitter.com/KrystenLindsay
FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/KrystenLindsayHagerAuthor
GOOGLE +: https://plus.google.com/+KrystenLindsayHager/posts
August 12, 2015
Iris Blobel Revisits JOURNEY TO HER DREAMS
Iris Blobel takes the reader from Tasmania to Ireland in Journey to Her Dreams.
“It’s not the money that makes you rich. It’s the knowledgethat the other person loves you and is always there for you, nomatter what. That makes you content and, therefore, rich.”
Journey to Her Dreams
by Iris Blobel
I'm excited to tell you all about the re-release of JOURNEY TO HER DREAMS,
which was in a way the start of my journey to my dreams.
Honestly, yes I was nervous going back re-visiting the story, nervous about the editing process for the new edition. I can't believe how much I've learnt and how much I've -hopefully- grown as a writer.
JOURNEY TO HER DREAMS has enjoyed another full edit and an awesome new cover.
I hope you'll give Hollie and Sam's story a chance.
THANK YOU
♥♦♥ ~ OUT NOW ~ ♥♦♥ AMAZON US: http://amzn.to/1UbJqZ8AMAZON UK: http://amzn.to/1LUz251AMAZON AU: http://bit.ly/1JVfTeM
♥♦♥ SYNOPSIS ♥♦♥
Would you travel around the world to uncover the reason for your dreams? Hollie Anderson does.
A young woman from Tasmania who lives on a farm just outside Launceston, she has got good looks, likes her job and loves to hang out with her friends. She should be happy, right?
But it’s a recurrent dream that throws her daily life into chaos and takes her on a journey to Ireland. While on her quest for answers she meets Sam in Dublin under unusual circumstances and both women, so different in many ways, find out they have one thing in common - and it changes their lives forever.
♥♦♥ MEET THE AUTHOR ♥♦♥IRIS BLOBEL
Iris Blobel was born and raised in Germany and only immigrated to Australia in the late 1990s. Having had the travel bug most of her life, Iris spent quite some time living in Scotland, London as well as Canada where she her husband. Her love for putting her stories onto paper has only emerged recently, but now her laptop is a constant companion.
Iris resides west of Melbourne with her husband and her two beautiful daughters.
Next to her job at a private school, she also presents a German Program at the local Community Radio.
Social Media Links:Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/IrisBlobelTwitter: https://twitter.com/_iris_bGoodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4067254.Iris_Blobel
“It’s not the money that makes you rich. It’s the knowledgethat the other person loves you and is always there for you, nomatter what. That makes you content and, therefore, rich.”
Journey to Her Dreams
by Iris Blobel
I'm excited to tell you all about the re-release of JOURNEY TO HER DREAMS,
which was in a way the start of my journey to my dreams.
Honestly, yes I was nervous going back re-visiting the story, nervous about the editing process for the new edition. I can't believe how much I've learnt and how much I've -hopefully- grown as a writer.
JOURNEY TO HER DREAMS has enjoyed another full edit and an awesome new cover.
I hope you'll give Hollie and Sam's story a chance.
THANK YOU
♥♦♥ ~ OUT NOW ~ ♥♦♥ AMAZON US: http://amzn.to/1UbJqZ8AMAZON UK: http://amzn.to/1LUz251AMAZON AU: http://bit.ly/1JVfTeM
♥♦♥ SYNOPSIS ♥♦♥
Would you travel around the world to uncover the reason for your dreams? Hollie Anderson does. A young woman from Tasmania who lives on a farm just outside Launceston, she has got good looks, likes her job and loves to hang out with her friends. She should be happy, right?
But it’s a recurrent dream that throws her daily life into chaos and takes her on a journey to Ireland. While on her quest for answers she meets Sam in Dublin under unusual circumstances and both women, so different in many ways, find out they have one thing in common - and it changes their lives forever.
♥♦♥ MEET THE AUTHOR ♥♦♥IRIS BLOBEL
Iris Blobel was born and raised in Germany and only immigrated to Australia in the late 1990s. Having had the travel bug most of her life, Iris spent quite some time living in Scotland, London as well as Canada where she her husband. Her love for putting her stories onto paper has only emerged recently, but now her laptop is a constant companion.
Iris resides west of Melbourne with her husband and her two beautiful daughters.
Next to her job at a private school, she also presents a German Program at the local Community Radio.
Social Media Links:Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/IrisBlobelTwitter: https://twitter.com/_iris_bGoodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4067254.Iris_Blobel
August 6, 2015
What if your seventeenth year was your last?
Fans of Young Adult Dystopian Fiction should check out Chris von Halle's new release, The Fourth Generation. Welcome to the spotlight, Chris!
Back Cover Blurb: In the future, no adults exist. Ever since the plague swept the world 100 years ago, no one has lived past seventeen.
Sixteen-year-old Gorin, a collector of curious artifacts left over from the pre-plague civilization, is on the verge of perishing from that deadly epidemic. And his last wish is to find a way to visit the rulers’ reputedly magnificent, off-limits mansion.
Up against the clock, he and his friend Stausha steal into the mansion and discover a secret more horrifying than they ever could’ve imagined—a secret that holds the key to the survival of the whole human race.
Excerpt: I raced up the stairwell pretty fast for someone in my awful condition. My empty backpack bounced on my shoulders, my feet landing just in front of the steps’ worn, chipped edges. Sunlight leaked through the dusty windows at the top of each landing, enough to light my way to the decaying apartment building’s eighth floor. The rest of the Valuable Objects better still be there. No way I was losing the Tournament of Prestige this year, and the VOs could be worth just enough prestige points to finally push my faction into the top spot. But if someone else found them while I was gone… At last I made it to the eighth floor. My chest heaved as I sucked in breath, my burning legs threatening to crumple. You’ve gotta be kidding me. The second door on the right lay wide open. My heart banged against my ribs, making it tough to breathe, as I crept to the door as quietly as only I could. I peeked inside the room. My gut clenched, even though I’d seen it coming. A boy about my size—taller than average with good-size muscles—stood in front of the old wooden cabinets on the left side of the room. He had blotchy, dark gray skin, so was about sixteen years old like me. His back looked a little crooked, like his spine wasn’t quite aligned right. Mine was probably in similar shape. Even from the doorway I could see through the cabinet doors’ inlaid glass. Empty, except for one measly glass bottle. Sure enough, the boy started to turn away from them. I jerked my head back into the hallway, then peered back in. He made his way to the right side of the room. No—not there. He stopped at the faded loveseat wedged against the wall. Patches of peeled leather formed large, complicated shapes that looked like continents on a globe. Get away from there. Then again, this room had been scoured countless times over the past fifty years by generations of supply hunters like us, and none of them had found the short, tiny closet behind the sofa. Chances were slim this kid would. Please, Power, this is my last year, my last chance. Please don’t let him find the VOs. He walked to the side of the loveseat and put his hands on it. He was about to push it! I yanked my flashlight out of my pocket, snapped open the battery compartment as quickly and quietly as I could, and hurled a battery across the room. Wasn’t like I needed it. Our faction got fresh batteries every week from the mansion, and could probably get more if we asked. The battery smacked the back wall by the open window—I felt a light breeze, even from where I stood by the door—and hit the floor with a thud. The boy stopped pushing the sofa. Thankfully, he’d only moved it a couple inches. Not enough to reveal any of the closet. “What the…?” He watched the battery roll across the wooden floor a bit and stay still. He walked toward it. Yes. He picked it up and headed toward the window, his back to me. Probably thought someone had thrown the battery through it. I crept toward the sofa as quietly as I could, so there was no chance the kid could hear me. Few people had feet as soundless as Gorin of Faction 235. I navigated around the squeaky floorboards. Good thing I’d memorized them during my first two trips to this room, after I’d found the jackpot of a closet this morning. Could never be too careful or prepared for a situation like this. Every VO counted, especially ones worth as many prestige points as DVDs. When I made it to the loveseat, I shoved it aside as hard as I could and burst into the closet. “Hey!” the boy cried as I lifted the lid of the plastic blue bin inside and started to stuff the last of the whopping stash—a stack of plastic DVD cases coated in thick dust—into my backpack. Not sure exactly what they were or what they did in the Old World. Us supply hunters weren’t trained to know stuff like that, annoyingly enough, though I’d give all my limbs to be given one hint. Feet shuffled toward me. “Get your filthy paws off those. They’re mine.” I turned my head toward the boy. He towered over me, at least by a foot. Thick, muscled arms framed his sides. Okay, so I was wrong—he was bigger and stronger than me. He dug his gaze into mine with pebbles for eyes on his overly broad forehead. A large, beak-like nose jutted from his face. “Sorry, you know the rules,” I said. “I got to all of these before you, fair and square.” Which meant I got to keep them. Actually, I’d gotten to them way before him, but I had no proof of that, so no use mentioning it. He folded his meaty arms across his chest. “Sorry, punk, but I don’t play by the rules.”Buy Links: smashwords Amazon Kobo Author Bio:Chris von Halle has had many different lives in many different worlds—the near and distant future Earth, other planets, and even other dimensions—and his books recreate his childhood memories of such outlandish locations. In this world and life, he lives in Ridgewood, New Jersey, and enjoys such extraordinary activities as playing videogames, tennis, and basketball, and writing the occasional comic strip.
Social Media Links: Website: chrisvonhalle.comFacebook: FacebookBlog: BlogTwitter: @ChrisvonHalle
Back Cover Blurb: In the future, no adults exist. Ever since the plague swept the world 100 years ago, no one has lived past seventeen.
Sixteen-year-old Gorin, a collector of curious artifacts left over from the pre-plague civilization, is on the verge of perishing from that deadly epidemic. And his last wish is to find a way to visit the rulers’ reputedly magnificent, off-limits mansion.
Up against the clock, he and his friend Stausha steal into the mansion and discover a secret more horrifying than they ever could’ve imagined—a secret that holds the key to the survival of the whole human race.
Excerpt: I raced up the stairwell pretty fast for someone in my awful condition. My empty backpack bounced on my shoulders, my feet landing just in front of the steps’ worn, chipped edges. Sunlight leaked through the dusty windows at the top of each landing, enough to light my way to the decaying apartment building’s eighth floor. The rest of the Valuable Objects better still be there. No way I was losing the Tournament of Prestige this year, and the VOs could be worth just enough prestige points to finally push my faction into the top spot. But if someone else found them while I was gone… At last I made it to the eighth floor. My chest heaved as I sucked in breath, my burning legs threatening to crumple. You’ve gotta be kidding me. The second door on the right lay wide open. My heart banged against my ribs, making it tough to breathe, as I crept to the door as quietly as only I could. I peeked inside the room. My gut clenched, even though I’d seen it coming. A boy about my size—taller than average with good-size muscles—stood in front of the old wooden cabinets on the left side of the room. He had blotchy, dark gray skin, so was about sixteen years old like me. His back looked a little crooked, like his spine wasn’t quite aligned right. Mine was probably in similar shape. Even from the doorway I could see through the cabinet doors’ inlaid glass. Empty, except for one measly glass bottle. Sure enough, the boy started to turn away from them. I jerked my head back into the hallway, then peered back in. He made his way to the right side of the room. No—not there. He stopped at the faded loveseat wedged against the wall. Patches of peeled leather formed large, complicated shapes that looked like continents on a globe. Get away from there. Then again, this room had been scoured countless times over the past fifty years by generations of supply hunters like us, and none of them had found the short, tiny closet behind the sofa. Chances were slim this kid would. Please, Power, this is my last year, my last chance. Please don’t let him find the VOs. He walked to the side of the loveseat and put his hands on it. He was about to push it! I yanked my flashlight out of my pocket, snapped open the battery compartment as quickly and quietly as I could, and hurled a battery across the room. Wasn’t like I needed it. Our faction got fresh batteries every week from the mansion, and could probably get more if we asked. The battery smacked the back wall by the open window—I felt a light breeze, even from where I stood by the door—and hit the floor with a thud. The boy stopped pushing the sofa. Thankfully, he’d only moved it a couple inches. Not enough to reveal any of the closet. “What the…?” He watched the battery roll across the wooden floor a bit and stay still. He walked toward it. Yes. He picked it up and headed toward the window, his back to me. Probably thought someone had thrown the battery through it. I crept toward the sofa as quietly as I could, so there was no chance the kid could hear me. Few people had feet as soundless as Gorin of Faction 235. I navigated around the squeaky floorboards. Good thing I’d memorized them during my first two trips to this room, after I’d found the jackpot of a closet this morning. Could never be too careful or prepared for a situation like this. Every VO counted, especially ones worth as many prestige points as DVDs. When I made it to the loveseat, I shoved it aside as hard as I could and burst into the closet. “Hey!” the boy cried as I lifted the lid of the plastic blue bin inside and started to stuff the last of the whopping stash—a stack of plastic DVD cases coated in thick dust—into my backpack. Not sure exactly what they were or what they did in the Old World. Us supply hunters weren’t trained to know stuff like that, annoyingly enough, though I’d give all my limbs to be given one hint. Feet shuffled toward me. “Get your filthy paws off those. They’re mine.” I turned my head toward the boy. He towered over me, at least by a foot. Thick, muscled arms framed his sides. Okay, so I was wrong—he was bigger and stronger than me. He dug his gaze into mine with pebbles for eyes on his overly broad forehead. A large, beak-like nose jutted from his face. “Sorry, you know the rules,” I said. “I got to all of these before you, fair and square.” Which meant I got to keep them. Actually, I’d gotten to them way before him, but I had no proof of that, so no use mentioning it. He folded his meaty arms across his chest. “Sorry, punk, but I don’t play by the rules.”Buy Links: smashwords Amazon Kobo Author Bio:Chris von Halle has had many different lives in many different worlds—the near and distant future Earth, other planets, and even other dimensions—and his books recreate his childhood memories of such outlandish locations. In this world and life, he lives in Ridgewood, New Jersey, and enjoys such extraordinary activities as playing videogames, tennis, and basketball, and writing the occasional comic strip.
Social Media Links: Website: chrisvonhalle.comFacebook: FacebookBlog: BlogTwitter: @ChrisvonHalle
August 1, 2015
Lammas Blessings!
Lammas is the first of three Celtic harvest festivals. To discover Lammas activities and lore, Click here.
July 29, 2015
A Middle Grade Love Story...About a Girl and her Dog
Remember Middle School? Bullies. Friendship. Crushes. Trying to fit in.
Imagine going through all that with epilepsy.
Today's spotlight is on Katy Newton Naas and her new Middle Grade novel,
Guardian.
Back Cover Blurb:
When Kinsey Lydell enters seventh grade, the only thing she wants is to fit in. But being like everyone else isn’t easy when you have epilepsy. Especially when that means a dog has to follow you around everywhere you go.
Drake, Kinsey’s assistance dog, has been her best friend since the day she met him. They have a special connection – he can sense her seizures before they occur. The other students have always loved having Drake in the classroom, making Kinsey feel special, not strange. But just a short time in a new middle school changes all of that.
Kinsey can’t help but admire Taylor Thompson. The boys like her and the girls want to be like her. But from the first day of school, it’s clear that Taylor is determined to make Kin-sey feel like an outsider. Suddenly, her best friend – the one who lives his whole life just to protect her – becomes her source of humiliation.
Excerpt:
It happens so fast, I don’t have time to be scared. A strange smell, sort of metallic, fills my nostrils. My vision gets blurry, just slightly, and I feel like I’m a million miles away. If I’m in the middle of a conversation, the person talking suddenly sounds like they’re speaking a different language. I feel a cold wind blowing against my skin, but I start to sweat. My head feels light and the next thing I know, I’m waking up on the ground and it’s over. I have no memory of the episode itself, but every muscle in my body aches. It makes Mrs. Henshaw’s famous physical fitness test in PE class seem like a relaxing stroll on the beach. I am so sore that for days, my body struggles to recover from the two--‐‑minute workout of a lifetime. This is the best description of what it’s like to have a seizure that I can give. I get asked all the time, from curious classmates or family members, to tell them how it feels. But the truth is, as far as the seizure itself, I have absolutely no idea how to describe it. Ican’t remember them, any of them. Though I remember what it feels like just before, the symptoms hit me all at once, and before I can even warn the people around me, it takes over. And there is absolutely nothing I can do to stop it. I can’t even slow it down. Ittakes control of me; it owns me. My name is Kinsey Lydell, and I have epilepsy. My seizures are called tonic-clonic, which is a fancy way of saying I have the really scary ones. No one knows why I have it. None of the usual explanations are there: I haven’t suffered any head trauma or brain injury, and I have no history of it in my family. When I was born, I was normal, and then one day, I wasn’t. It happened when I was only three years old. I don’t remember my first seizure, but I once heard my mom tell my doctor all the details. “We were just sitting on the floor. Kinsey was building a tower out of blocks, and then suddenly her eyes wentblank. I knew something was wrong, but before I could react she was lying in the floor. Her body convulsed and her eyes rolled back in her head. I rushed to the phone to dial nine‑one‑one, but before they even answered the call, the seizure was over. She was crying hysterically, so confused…how do you explain to a three‑year‑old what just happened when you don’t understand it yourself?” When I heard my mom telling that story, she didn’t know I was listening. She was in our living room, sitting on the edge of the couch while my doctor sat facing her in the recliner. I hid behind the wall in the hallway that led to my bedroom, which was wherethey thought I was. Watching my mom’s big blue eyes fill with tears as she relived that moment, her blonde curls bouncing slightly as her shoulders shook, made me sorry I was ever even born. My mom, the funniest, most bubbly person I knew, was in pain. And it was all my fault. That first seizure was followed by another one, just two days later. And another one, shortly after that. I was labeled with epilepsy before my fourth birthday. Because I’m the only child in the family, my parents put all their time and energy into “fixing”me. But the problem with epilepsy is, it’s unfixable. There is no cure. There are only ways to control it, to help keep the seizures to a minimum. And if it’s a treatment option, I’ve tried it. Vitamins, medications…I’ve been through them all. There is a really scaryand expensive surgery that I’m not old enough for just yet, and I’m hopeful that by the time I am old enough, I won’t need it. Not because I’m scared – I’m not, really. It’s because I don’t want my parents to have to pay for it. They have spent more money on me over the last nine years than most parents spend on a whole family of kids in a lifetime. I mean, they don’t tell me this, but they don’t have to. I see things; I overhear conversations. I know what I cost them. I’m telling you all of this and you’re probably thinking one of two things. One – Wow, poor Kinsey, or two – This girl is a basketcase. And let me assure you that both thoughts are wrong. I am not crazy, and I am definitely not looking for sympathy. My life is wonderful, and living with epilepsy doesn’t change that fact. So, let the record show that I am not telling you all of this to make you feel sorry for me or anything like that – I’m telling it because I have a story that deserves to be told. I have been a part of the greatest love story that has ever existed, and a story like this just has to be shared. But don’t worry – this isn’t the mushy, kissy, lovey‑dovey, gross kind of story you see in the movies. This is real; it’s pure and it’s strong. It brings a new meaning to the word unconditional. This is a love story about a girl and her dog.
Buy Link:
Amazon
About the Author:
From the time she was old enough to talk, Katy Newton Naas has been creating characters and telling stories. As a child, they sometimes got her into trouble. She knew she wanted to write books when she won a Young Author's competition as a second-grader for her short story titled, "The Grape Pie." (Don't let its tasty title fool you - it was actually a sad little tale!)
Katy devoured books as a child and young adult, always doing chores and odd jobs in order to make enough money to buy more of them. Though she continues to age, her true literature love is and has always been children's and young adult fiction.
Katy currently teaches middle school reading and high school English in southern Illinois, as well as children's church. She graduated from Southern Illinois University-Carbondale with a bachelor's degree in English Education and a master's degree in Reading and Language Studies. She enjoys her life out in the country with her husband, her sweet and rowdy young SONS (her second son was born just June 22, 2015!), her nine baby ducks, and all her four-legged kids: Shakespeare, Poe, Morgi, Cappy, Ana, and Gray.
She loves creating both realistic and futuristic stories about kids, tweens, and teens, and feels so fortunate to get to work with them every day as a teacher.
Connect with Katy Newton Naas:Website: http://katynaas.wix.com/katynewtonnaa...
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/katynewtonnaasauthor
Twitter: @KatyNewtonNaas
Instagram: https://instagram.com/katynewtonnaas/
Blog: https://katynewtonnaas.wordpress.com/
Imagine going through all that with epilepsy.
Today's spotlight is on Katy Newton Naas and her new Middle Grade novel,
Guardian.
Back Cover Blurb:
When Kinsey Lydell enters seventh grade, the only thing she wants is to fit in. But being like everyone else isn’t easy when you have epilepsy. Especially when that means a dog has to follow you around everywhere you go.
Drake, Kinsey’s assistance dog, has been her best friend since the day she met him. They have a special connection – he can sense her seizures before they occur. The other students have always loved having Drake in the classroom, making Kinsey feel special, not strange. But just a short time in a new middle school changes all of that.
Kinsey can’t help but admire Taylor Thompson. The boys like her and the girls want to be like her. But from the first day of school, it’s clear that Taylor is determined to make Kin-sey feel like an outsider. Suddenly, her best friend – the one who lives his whole life just to protect her – becomes her source of humiliation.
Excerpt:
It happens so fast, I don’t have time to be scared. A strange smell, sort of metallic, fills my nostrils. My vision gets blurry, just slightly, and I feel like I’m a million miles away. If I’m in the middle of a conversation, the person talking suddenly sounds like they’re speaking a different language. I feel a cold wind blowing against my skin, but I start to sweat. My head feels light and the next thing I know, I’m waking up on the ground and it’s over. I have no memory of the episode itself, but every muscle in my body aches. It makes Mrs. Henshaw’s famous physical fitness test in PE class seem like a relaxing stroll on the beach. I am so sore that for days, my body struggles to recover from the two--‐‑minute workout of a lifetime. This is the best description of what it’s like to have a seizure that I can give. I get asked all the time, from curious classmates or family members, to tell them how it feels. But the truth is, as far as the seizure itself, I have absolutely no idea how to describe it. Ican’t remember them, any of them. Though I remember what it feels like just before, the symptoms hit me all at once, and before I can even warn the people around me, it takes over. And there is absolutely nothing I can do to stop it. I can’t even slow it down. Ittakes control of me; it owns me. My name is Kinsey Lydell, and I have epilepsy. My seizures are called tonic-clonic, which is a fancy way of saying I have the really scary ones. No one knows why I have it. None of the usual explanations are there: I haven’t suffered any head trauma or brain injury, and I have no history of it in my family. When I was born, I was normal, and then one day, I wasn’t. It happened when I was only three years old. I don’t remember my first seizure, but I once heard my mom tell my doctor all the details. “We were just sitting on the floor. Kinsey was building a tower out of blocks, and then suddenly her eyes wentblank. I knew something was wrong, but before I could react she was lying in the floor. Her body convulsed and her eyes rolled back in her head. I rushed to the phone to dial nine‑one‑one, but before they even answered the call, the seizure was over. She was crying hysterically, so confused…how do you explain to a three‑year‑old what just happened when you don’t understand it yourself?” When I heard my mom telling that story, she didn’t know I was listening. She was in our living room, sitting on the edge of the couch while my doctor sat facing her in the recliner. I hid behind the wall in the hallway that led to my bedroom, which was wherethey thought I was. Watching my mom’s big blue eyes fill with tears as she relived that moment, her blonde curls bouncing slightly as her shoulders shook, made me sorry I was ever even born. My mom, the funniest, most bubbly person I knew, was in pain. And it was all my fault. That first seizure was followed by another one, just two days later. And another one, shortly after that. I was labeled with epilepsy before my fourth birthday. Because I’m the only child in the family, my parents put all their time and energy into “fixing”me. But the problem with epilepsy is, it’s unfixable. There is no cure. There are only ways to control it, to help keep the seizures to a minimum. And if it’s a treatment option, I’ve tried it. Vitamins, medications…I’ve been through them all. There is a really scaryand expensive surgery that I’m not old enough for just yet, and I’m hopeful that by the time I am old enough, I won’t need it. Not because I’m scared – I’m not, really. It’s because I don’t want my parents to have to pay for it. They have spent more money on me over the last nine years than most parents spend on a whole family of kids in a lifetime. I mean, they don’t tell me this, but they don’t have to. I see things; I overhear conversations. I know what I cost them. I’m telling you all of this and you’re probably thinking one of two things. One – Wow, poor Kinsey, or two – This girl is a basketcase. And let me assure you that both thoughts are wrong. I am not crazy, and I am definitely not looking for sympathy. My life is wonderful, and living with epilepsy doesn’t change that fact. So, let the record show that I am not telling you all of this to make you feel sorry for me or anything like that – I’m telling it because I have a story that deserves to be told. I have been a part of the greatest love story that has ever existed, and a story like this just has to be shared. But don’t worry – this isn’t the mushy, kissy, lovey‑dovey, gross kind of story you see in the movies. This is real; it’s pure and it’s strong. It brings a new meaning to the word unconditional. This is a love story about a girl and her dog.
Buy Link:
Amazon
About the Author:
From the time she was old enough to talk, Katy Newton Naas has been creating characters and telling stories. As a child, they sometimes got her into trouble. She knew she wanted to write books when she won a Young Author's competition as a second-grader for her short story titled, "The Grape Pie." (Don't let its tasty title fool you - it was actually a sad little tale!)
Katy devoured books as a child and young adult, always doing chores and odd jobs in order to make enough money to buy more of them. Though she continues to age, her true literature love is and has always been children's and young adult fiction.
Katy currently teaches middle school reading and high school English in southern Illinois, as well as children's church. She graduated from Southern Illinois University-Carbondale with a bachelor's degree in English Education and a master's degree in Reading and Language Studies. She enjoys her life out in the country with her husband, her sweet and rowdy young SONS (her second son was born just June 22, 2015!), her nine baby ducks, and all her four-legged kids: Shakespeare, Poe, Morgi, Cappy, Ana, and Gray.
She loves creating both realistic and futuristic stories about kids, tweens, and teens, and feels so fortunate to get to work with them every day as a teacher.
Connect with Katy Newton Naas:Website: http://katynaas.wix.com/katynewtonnaa...
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/katynewtonnaasauthor
Twitter: @KatyNewtonNaas
Instagram: https://instagram.com/katynewtonnaas/
Blog: https://katynewtonnaas.wordpress.com/
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