Vanessa Barneveld's Blog, page 7

NaNoWriMo – Day 4

I’ve gotta get my word count to move on up this weekend! Time for some 1970s soul music by Curtis Mayfield.

Get “Move On Up” on iTunes.

NaNoWriMo – Day 3

Today’s NaNo survival song is an exquisite ballad version of Kylie Minogue’s “I Believe In You.” I’m dedicating it to my wonderful, supportive, super-talented writing buddies, Pintip Dunn and Kim MacCarron. Love you guys!

Writing-wise, I’ve put down 3,386 words in two days. Only 47,717 words to go!

Prefer the original poppy version? Here it is:

NaNoWriMo – Day 2

Day 2 of NaNo and I’m still standing. Or sitting. Dusty Springfield’s “Spooky” is on my playlist today. It’s appropriate because the scene I’m writing takes place in a graveyard. And one of my characters is called Dusty. Spooky.

NaNoWriMo 2017 – Day 1

National Novel Writing Month (often distilled down to NaNoWriMo, NaNo, and sometimes just No) starts today!


 


I need to write a minimum of 1,667 words a day/night until Nov 30. It’s a hard but rewarding slog. This time, I’m writing a spooky ghost story. To keep my spirits up, each day, I’ll post a song from my writing playlist.

Today’s tune is “Running Up That Hill” by Kate Bush. 

Are you participating in NaNo? Sign in to the NaNo site and add me as your buddy — I’m listed as Author-Ness.

Good luck to everyone who’s giving NaNo a shot this year!

Release Week Blitz: Girl on the Verge by Pintip Dunn

Hello Readers!  Welcome to the Release Week Blitz for

Girl on the Verge by Pintip Dunn!

Check out the excerpt below,

and be sure to enter the giveaway found at the end of the post!

 

Congratulations Pintip!!

 

 

 

From the author of The Darkest Lie comes a compelling, provocative story for fans of I Was Here and Vanishing Girls, about a high school senior straddling two worlds, unsure how she fits in either—and the journey of self-discovery that leads her to surprising truths.

In her small Kansas town, at her predominantly white school, Kanchana doesn’t look like anyone else. But at home, her Thai grandmother chides her for being too westernized. Only through the clothing Kan designs in secret can she find a way to fuse both cultures into something distinctly her own.

When her mother agrees to provide a home for a teenage girl named Shelly, Kan sees a chance to prove herself useful. Making Shelly feel comfortable is easy at first—her new friend is eager to please, embraces the family’s Thai traditions, and clearly looks up to Kan. Perhaps too much. Shelly seems to want everything Kanchana has, even the blond, blue-eyed boy she has a crush on. As Kan’s growing discomfort compels her to investigate Shelly’s past, she’s shocked to find how much it intersects with her own—and just how far Shelly will go to belong…

Girl on the Verge by Pintip Dunn

Publication Date:  June 27, 2017

Publisher:  Kensington

Google Drive | BAM | Chapters | Amazon | B&N | Kobo | TBD | iBooks

 

 

A fish swims beneath the open staircase in my Khun Yai’s house. A real live fish, with its translucent fins fluttering in the water, its belly gold-scaled and bloated from regular feedings. If I part my knees, I can catch long glimpses of its lazy swimming through the gap in the stairs.

Of course, I’m not supposed to part my knees. It’s not ladylike for a twelve-year-old girl, not here, not in Thailand. The land where my parents grew up; the place that’s supposed to be my home, too. That’s what the banner said, when my relatives came to pick us up at the airport. “Welcome home, Kanchana.”

Never mind that I only come to Thailand every couple years. Never mind that I don’t look like anyone else here, with my American build and my frizzy, out-of-control hair. Never mind that I don’t look like anyone in my hometown, either, since I’m the only Asian girl in school. Never mind that the only reason we’re here now is because my father’s dead and my mom can’t keep it together.

For a moment, pain lances through me, so sharp and severe that it might as well slice my heart in half, like in one of those video games my friends like to play. I squeeze my eyes shut, but that doesn’t keep the tears from spilling out. Neither do the glasses sliding down my nose. And so the tears drip down, down, down, past my unladylike knees, through the gap in the stairs, into the fish basin below.

The drops scare the fish, who swims away with its tail swishing in the water, no longer languid, no longer lazy. So, even this creature wants to get away from me—from my grief, from my strangeness—as quickly as possible.

“There you are, luk lak,” Khun Yai says in Thai, coming down the stairs. She is my mother’s mother, and since we arrived, she’s used the endearment—child that I love—more often than my name.

“You’re up early.” She pats her forehead with a handkerchief. It’s only seven a.m., and already sweat drenches my skin like I’ve taken a dip in the basin. No wonder they take two or three showers a day here.

“Couldn’t sleep. Jet lag.”

“I’ve been up for a couple hours myself.” She eases onto the step next to me, her knees pressed together, her legs folded demurely to one side.

Immediately, I try to rearrange my body to look like hers and then give up. My legs just don’t go that way.

“What do you want to do today?” Khun Yai asks. “More shopping?”

“Um, no thanks.” I make a face. “Didn’t you hear those salesgirls at Siam Square yesterday? They rushed up as soon as we entered and said they didn’t have anything in my size.” My cheeks still burn when I think about their haughty expressions.

She sighs. “The clothes there are just ridiculously small. We’ll go to the mall today. They should have something that will fit you.”

I stare at her diminutive frame and her chopstick legs. “One of the salesgirls asked how much I weighed. Another grabbed my arm and said I felt like a side pillow.”

“They didn’t mean any harm. It is just the Thai way to be blunt.” She catches my chin and tilts up my face. “You are so beautiful. I wish you could see that.”

I could say so many things. I could tell her that I’m ugly not only in Thailand but also in the United States. Even though I’m not big by American standards—far from it—I could confess how the boys call me Squinty. How those Thai salesgirls snickered at my poodle-fuzz hair. I could explain how I’m from two worlds but fit in neither.

But I don’t. Because my words will only make her sad, and there have been enough tears in our family.

 

 

 

Pintip is a New York Times bestselling author of YA fiction. She graduated from Harvard University, magna cum laude, with an A.B. in English Literature and Language. She received her J.D. at Yale Law School, where she was an editor of the YALE LAW JOURNAL.

Pintip’s first novel, FORGET TOMORROW won the RWA RITA® award for Best First Book. Her other novels include THE DARKEST LIE, REMEMBER YESTERDAY, and the novella, BEFORE TOMORROW. She is represented by literary agent Beth Miller of Writers House.

She lives with her husband and children in Maryland.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram | Goodreads

 

 

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YA Beach Reads Giveaway!

I’m escaping Sydney’s winter and heading waaayyy north in the next few days. California, here I come!

Wherever you are, don’t miss this jumbo YA Beach Reads Giveaway put together by the lovely Jessica Ruddick. One grand prize winner will receive all the print books you see in the graphic below — that’s *twenty* YAs in all kinds of genres! Twenty individuals winners will each receive one book.

Click on the graphic to visit Jessica’s website and enter the giveaway. Entries open June 5 and close June 12, 2017 (US EDT). Check Jessica’s website for full terms and conditions.

Good luck!

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Subscriber Giveaway!

If you haven’t already signed up to my author newsletter list, you might want to ’cause I’m featuring a book giveaway exclusively for subscribers very soon! I’ll be giving away two paperback copies of this little New Adult beauty, Beth Anne Miller’s A STAR TO STEER HER BY. Click on the gorgeous book cover to sign up*, or visit this link.

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A Star to Steer Her By

I’m scarred. Broken. I’ll never be the same.

But I will take this journey.

Ever since my last dive ended in bloodshed, I’ve been terrified to go back into the water. But the opportunity to spend a semester at sea is too good to pass up. I need to get my life back.

I never expected to love it this much. And I never expected Tristan MacDougall.

Rugged, strong, and with demons of his own, Tristan helps me find the courage I thought I had lost and heals me with every stolen moment we share. But the rules of the ship mean we can’t be together.

When a dive excursion goes terribly wrong, our only hope for survival is each other.

A Star to Steer Her By – Out Now!

Amazon | Entangled Embrace | iBooks | B&N

About Beth Anne Miller[image error]

My first book, written in elementary school, was bound in pink fabric and was about—what else?—a girl and her horse. I soon began cheating on horses with the sea, becoming an open water scuba diver at age 14. That love of the sea led me to a college semester aboard a schooner. I returned with fond memories of the exhilaration of being on a ship under full sail, less fond memories of hurling over the leeward rail on a daily basis, and a sailing bug I couldn’t quite shake.

In addition to horses and the sea, I have a fascination for all things Scottish (including, but not limited to, men in kilts), which I explored with my first novel, INTO THE SCOTTISH MIST (The Wild Rose Press, 2011), and carried into my new novel, A STAR TO STEER HER BY (Entangled Embrace, 2017). A native New Yorker, I work in the publishing industry and am always looking ahead to my next voyage, whether a short one on a dive boat or whale watch, or, with luck, a longer one on a tall ship. You can find me on the web at My first book, written in elementary school, was bound in pink fabric and was about—what else?—a girl and her horse. I soon began cheating on horses with the sea, becoming an open water scuba diver at age 14. That love of the sea led me to a college semester aboard a schooner. I returned with fond memories of the exhilaration of being on a ship under full sail, less fond memories of hurling over the leeward rail on a daily basis, and a sailing bug I couldn’t quite shake.

In addition to horses and the sea, I have a fascination for all things Scottish (including, but not limited to, men in kilts), which I explored with my first novel, INTO THE SCOTTISH MIST (The Wild Rose Press, 2011), and carried into my new novel, A STAR TO STEER HER BY (Entangled Embrace, 2017). A native New Yorker, I work in the publishing industry and am always looking ahead to my next voyage, whether a short one on a dive boat or whale watch, or, with luck, a longer one on a tall ship. You can find me on the web at www.bethannemiller.com

*I respect your privacy and will not share your details with anyone. Unsubscribe at any time.

Cover Reveal: Seize Today by Pintip Dunn!

Check out the brand-new cover of Pintip Dunn’s SEIZE TODAY, Book 3 in the FORGET TOMORROW series!

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Release Date: October 3, 2017

Publisher: Entangled TEEN

Preorder Now!

Synopsis:

Seventeen-year-old Olivia Dresden can literally see the path to goodness in each person. Her precognition means that different versions of people’s futures flicker before her eyes. But forced into isolation, she can only watch as her mother, Chairwoman Dresden, chooses the dark, destructive course every time. Even so, she remains fiercely loyal to the woman her mother could be.

When the chairwoman captures Ryder Russell, a boy from the rebel Underground, Olivia sees a vision of her own imminent death. Despite her bleak fate, she rescues Ryder and flees with him, drawing her mother’s fury and sparking a romance as doomed as Olivia herself. As the full extent of Chairwoman Dresden’s gruesome plan is revealed, Olivia must find the light in her mother—or blink out of existence with the rest of the world.

Author bio:

 

[image error]Pintip Dunn is a New York Times bestselling author of YA fiction. She graduated from Harvard University, magna cum laude, with an A.B. in English Literature and Language. She received her J.D. at Yale Law School, where she was an editor of the YALE LAW JOURNAL.

Pintip is represented by literary agent Beth Miller of Writers House. Her novel, FORGET TOMORROW, won the RWA RITA® for Best First Book. In addition, it is a finalist for the Grand Prix de l’Imaginaire, the Japanese Sakura Medal, and the MASL Truman Award. THE DARKEST LIE was nominated for a Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award. Her other books include REMEMBER YESTERDAY, the novella BEFORE TOMORROW, and the forthcoming GIRL ON THE VERGE.

She lives with her husband and children in Maryland. You can learn more about Pintip and her books at www.pintipdunn.com

Links:

Website  Facebook  Twitter  Instagram  Goodreads  Preorder

Book Trailer

Haven’t read the FORGET TOMORROW series yet? Read Book 1 now for the bargain price of $1.99! Sale ends 05/14.

Kobo  Amazon  Barnes & Noble  iBooks 

A big thank you to YA Books Central for revealing the cover of Seize Today!

 

Another Sad Goodbye

I’m trying the “write through your grief” thing on for size today. Not sure it’ll work, and I know I’ll be far from eloquent, but here goes. Long post ahead…

Pets. They speak to you in their own ways and love you with their whole heart. And when you have to let them go, the pain of it almost defies description. A few weeks ago, on Halloween evening, our darling little 17-year-old cat, Possum, was diagnosed with an inoperable tumour on her jaw bone. This past week, we had to face the heartbreaking reality—the tumour was growing quickly and aggressively. There were other problems, but I won’t go into them now. Her quality of life was diminishing and nothing could be done for her aside from giving doses of heavy painkillers three times a day. Yesterday, December 8, our local vet came to the house and put Possum to sleep on my lap under the shade of her favourite avocado tree.

There are so many great memories of Possum that I want to keep alive. Like the day we went to a breeder intending to get a British shorthair, but we were pounced on by this scrappy, marsupial-like kitten when we walked in. A failed ocicat, the breeder called her, because she failed to “spot.” The 14-week-old kitten successfully climbed up my husband’s jeans legs, then mine. It was written: we were the chosen ones. Despite wanting so desperately to come home with us, Possum cried for the entire first night.

Possum at just a few months of age in 1999. This was taken pre-digital cameras.

But she soon became attached to us and her new big bro, Pinklepurr. I’d never known a cat to love so hard and so much. And she was a talker. I swear you’d say something and she’d reply quite thoughtfully. I think most owners of talkative Oriental cats will know what I mean! We also soon found out that she fetched things like a dog. Toy mice and pistachio nuts were her favourite play things. She understood the words “no” and “excuse me.” The latter was used if she was on my lap and I needed to get up. She had a congenital weepy eye. We’d sing the Kleenex tissue song to her and wipe her eye clean. Afterwards, she’d blink up at us gratefully. In cat language, slow blinking means “I’m happy. I’m smiling.”

Possum relaxing in the garden she loved so much. Even that weepy eye could not detract from her beauty!

She could always be counted on to make up her own games. Possum taught us some too, like what we called the stair game, which was kind of like tennis. She would sit halfway up a staircase and bat a toy mouse down at us. Our job was to throw the mouse at her and she’d skilfully lob it back. When she got tired of playing, she’d find unusual places to snooze. One day I arrived home to find her sleeping on a dish draining rack above the kitchen sink.

Possum was the kind of cat who had to be involved in everything going: house renovations (twice), folding bedsheets, sorting cupboards, wrapping gifts, helping me write, making phone calls, or opening boxes. (The box would become her new bed for the following three days, then she would discard it.) We bought a Possum-sized stepladder so she could watch us cook from the end of the kitchen bench.

Our cats were only allowed outside under supervision. But in the chaos of a renovation, one night she slipped out after curfew. I found her on the back porch very early the next morning, looking scruffy and carting around a T-bone that she’d scrounged from a neighbour’s yard. She acted like she’d been abandoned and wandering in the wilderness for weeks instead of hours.

One night a real possum (the marsupial kind) visited our yard. Possum and the possum locked gazes. They seemed to be quite confused but fascinated by one another.

Many people think cats are aloof. But not all of them are snooty. Personable Possum used to run to the front door to greet us when we came home. (That said, she disliked other cats, especially fluffy-tailed ones, and dogs.) As soon as I sat down, Possum would take her rightful place on my lap or my laptop. For a long time, she wanted to sleep in our bed. A photo my husband took of Poss and I asleep side by side even made it into the Awkward Family Pet Photos book. We often joked about getting a baby sling for her because she always wanted to stick close to her humans. I made a silly photo blog for our cats; it was short-lived, but today that blog gave me huge comfort.

This photo of P&P ended up in the I Can Has Cheezburger desk calendar one year.

Writing this post now, it’s incredibly tough to not have Possum here on my lap, with her white chin on resting my left arm. I already even miss getting clawed (never deliberately). It’s… Yeah, I need some tissues. BRB.

Okay. Do I feel better after writing this post? Marginally. I already miss the way she looked up at us with so much love in her eyes, the way she’d keep me warm when I was sick, keep me company on the couch. I even miss clearing out her litter tray. Weird, I know. We’ve gone from a two-cat household to a zero-cat household in less than a year, and it’s so, so hard to bear.

But as a close friend just said to me, and I hope she won’t mind me repeating it here, “You will never forget her and you will always love her, but day by day, it will get a little easier to bear.” For my own healing, I’ll probably revisit to this post as I remember all the fun things Possum did in her 17 years. And I still have literally hundreds of photos and videos of her. Hundreds. Maybe sorting through those day by day will ease the pain some more.

I’m grateful to the amazing vets and nurses at Sydney Animal Hospitals for taking such good care of Possum for the past 10 years and right to the very end. They kindly sent us a cute bunch of flowers today. Thank you to my friends and family who’ve shared our loss privately. Your words have really meant a lot and given us strength. I want to single out my boss, who isn’t a cat man, but understood the special relationship with Possum and gave me time off in the days leading up to our loss. *Thank you*

Vale, dear Possum, ultimate lapcat, substitute baby, and writing partner. I still can’t believe you’re gone. You brought us joy every single day. I hope you and Pinkie are together once more.

Possum and her adoring big brother, Pinkie.

That’s Possum helping me wrap a present I’d bought for a friend from the British Museum.

Eating corn on the cob.

Happy Release Day to Abbie Roads!

Hunt the Dawn by Abbie Roads

Series: Fatal Dreams #2

Genre: Romantic Suspense

Publication Date: December 6, 2016

BUY NOW

Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Google | Indigo | BAM! | Indie Bound

Out of darkness and danger

You can’t hide your secrets from Lathan Montgomery-he can read your darkest memories. And while his special abilities are invaluable in the FBI’s hunt for a serial killer, he has no way to avoid the pain that brings him. Until he is drawn to courageous, down-on-her-luck Evanee Brown and finds himself able to offer her something he’s never offered another human being: himself.

Dawns a unique and powerful love

Nightmares are nothing new to Evanee Brown. But once she meets Lathan, they plummet into the realm of the macabre. Murder victims are reaching from beyond the grave to give Evanee evidence that could help Lathan bring a terrifying killer to justice. Together, they could forge an indomitable partnership to thwart violence, abuse, and death-if they survive the forces that seek to tear them apart.

EXCERPT

Her eyelids fluttered. Opened.

“How are you feeling?” That question was more appropriate than interrogating her on how she came into possession of a human eyeball. He’d wait until she was fully conscious before tripping down that trail.

“Cold. So cold.” Goose bumps pimpled over her bare skin. She scooted toward where he sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping herself around his hips, seeking his body’s warmth.

He should get the heavy sleeping bag from the closet. He should cover her with it and leave the room. He should, he should, he should. He didn’t. He pulled off his boots and eased into the bed. She latched onto him before he fully reclined.

She molded herself to him. His shoulder her pillow, her arm around his middle, one of her legs draped over his thighs, her knee just a few miniscule inches from his groin. Everything vanished, except the vivid sensation of her feminine curves burrowing into him, seeking his safety, his comfort, his warmth. She was cool where he was on fire. She was soft where he couldn’t bend. She was sweet where he felt bitter.

She fit into his arms, against his body, and into his soul like she was designed especially for him. He wanted to believe he could have a happy ending with her, but his reality was a cruel, hard place where good things just didn’t happen. Or if they did, they never lasted.

MEET THE AUTHOR

Abbie Roads

Facebook Author Page | Facebook Profile Page | Twitter | Pinterest

Seven Things about Abbie Roads:

She loves Snicker Parfaits. Gotta start with what’s most important, right?
She writes dark emotional books featuring damaged characters, but always gives her hero and heroine a happy ending… after torturing them for three hundred pages.
By day she’s a mental health counselor known for her blunt, honest style of therapy. At night she burns up the keyboard. Well… Burn might be too strong a word. She at least sits with her hands poised over the keyboard, waiting for inspiration to strike. And when it does—the keyboard might get a little warm.
She can’t stand it when people drive slowly in the passing lane. Just saying. That’s major annoying. Right?
She loves taking pictures of things she thinks are pretty.
She’s represented by Michelle Grajkowski of 3 Seas Literary.
Her first book RACE THE DARKNESS was a Publishers Weekly Top 10 Pick for Fall.

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