With Laci and Mitch anxiously
awaiting the arrival of a new baby, they are surrounded by the turmoil of
discovering Mama’s illness while their two sons fight over the love of a woman.
A white Christmas brings a moment of joy, but Laci’s faith is tested again when their baby clings to life.
Together the Young family must lean on each other and the only One who can truly give them strength.
Will they find the faith they need…even through the snow?
Sandy lives in her hometown of Mt. Vernon, IL enjoying life with her two youngest kids, and works full time for a local hospital as a health consultant. Most mornings she can be found at her local bookstore-coffee shop among friends, looking for inspiration and writing her next novel.
Disclaimer: I received an ARC of FAITH THROUGH THE FALLING SNOW by SANDY SINNETT The opinions expressed here are entirely my own. Many thanks to Loving the Book for the Advanced Reader Copy.
It was my pleasure to read FAITH THROUGH THE FALLING SNOW by
SANDY SINNETT.
I found this book to be a light read and I genuinely enjoyed it
from beginning to end. The story line was relatively uncomplicated even with
the multiple stories that were playing out within it. Several topics, including
Alzheimer’s and life-threatening birth defects are handled with great dignity,
honesty, and compassion. The message of faith before all things good and bad is
hear very clearly throughout FAITH THROUGH THE FALLING SNOW!
The characters are well developed and unpretentious. They are down-to-earth
and honest showing the reader their values and their strong relationships with
family and God! The blending of two families is handled a bit too easily
perhaps, but it is refreshing to see.
I found FAITH THROUGH THE FALLING SNOW by SANDY SINNETT to be a wonderful book to read this holiday season. It brought a longing for Christmas and snow to the forefront of my mind every time I sat down with it!
I definitely recommendFAITH THROUGH THE FALLING SNOW by
SANDY SINNETTand give it five steaming hot cups of Reviews by Room
With Books coffee!
Character Casting
Mitch – Tim McGraw
Laci- Hilarie Burton
Brad – Paul Green
Maggie – Helen Mirren
Caleb- Nick Robinson
Evan – KJ Appa
Emma – Kiernan Shipka
To view our blog schedule and follow along with this tour visit our Official Event Page
From #1 New York Times bestselling phenomenon Sylvia Day comes a hotly anticipated and passionate new love story.
Once, I would never have imagined myself here. But I’m settled now. In a place I love, in a home I renovated, spending time with new friends I adore, and working a job that fulfills me. I am reconciling the past and laying the groundwork for the future.
Then Garrett Frost moves in next door.
He’s obstinate and too bold, a raging force of nature that disrupts the careful order of my life. I recognize the ghosts that haunt him, the torment driving him. Garrett would be risky in any form, but wounded, he’s far more dangerous. I fear I’m too fragile for the storm raging inside him, too delicate to withstand the pain that buffets him. But he’s too determined…and too tempting.
And sometimes hope soars above even the iciest desolation.
Disclaimer:I received an ARC of BUTTERFLY IN FROST by SYLVIA DAY. The opinions expressed here are entirely my own. Many thanks to Montlake Romance and NetGalleyfor the Advanced Reader Copy.
It was my pleasure to read BUTTERFLY IN FROST by SYLVIA DAY. I haven’t read a book by Ms. Day in a number of years and I found myself quickly drawn into the story of Teagan, Roxy & Mike, and Garrett!
The passion in this novel is palpable from the moment Garrett runs onto the page! The only question is how long that passion will remain unfulfilled! Teagan and Garrett burn mystifyingly hot and the flames just get higher as they learn about each other. I wouldn’t consider this novel erotic in nature, but the sex scenes are very steamy!
I am always amazed when an author catches me completely unaware when I get through a book. Ms. Day had me looking for one ending and then wowed me with something that was so completely unexpected that I had to go back and reread the end of the book several times to really let it sink in! I was totally blindsided to say the least!
BUTTERFLY IN FROST by SYLVIA DAYis a book that I will keep and read over again, more than just once! I will definitely be watching for more of the same style from Ms. Day in the future as this really resonated with me!
I very definitely recommendBUTTERFLY IN FROST by SYLVIA DAYand give it five beautiful gold stars!
Roxy bounces on her feet with excitement. “Les and Marge sold their house.”
I blink. “I didn’t know they were selling.”
She laughs and heads toward the front door. “That’s the thing. They weren’t.”
“Wait, what?” I hurry after her as she steps outside.
I look to the right at my home, a lovingly restored butterfly-roofed midcentury, then on to the traditional house just beyond it that belongs—belonged—to Les and Marge. Including Roxy’s, all three of our homes have unique lots set between the homes that line the street and the Sound, affording us unhindered views of the water as well as exceptional privacy—all within a twenty-minute drive of the airport.
Roxy shortens the length of her stride to allow me to catch up, then glances over at me. “The day after you flew to New York, a Range Rover pulled into their driveway, and the guy inside offered them cash to close—and move out—in fourteen days.”
My step falters, and Minnie gets momentarily tangled in her leash. The dog shoots me what I would describe as an irritated look, then keeps trotting forward. “That’s crazy.”
“Isn’t it? Les wouldn’t say how much the offer was, but I’m thinking it was huge.”
We march up the inclined driveway, my head tilted back to take in the houses scaling the hillside. Designed with big windows to maximize the view, the homes have a look of wide-eyed wonder. Our little stretch of the Sound used to be a secret, but with the housing boom taking over Seattle and Tacoma, we’ve been discovered. Many residences are undergoing major renovation to suit the tastes of new owners.
Reaching the road, we turn left. To the right is a dead end.
“Well, if they’re happy,” I say, “I’m happy for them.”
“They’re overwhelmed. It was a lot to happen all at once, but I think they’re happy with their decision.” Roxanne stops when Bella does, and we wait as the two dogs mark one of their usual spots on the gravel edging the asphalt. There are no curbs on the streets in our neighborhood and no sidewalks. Just beautiful lawns and a profusion of flowering shrubs.
“We all tried prying information out of them,” she goes on, “but they weren’t sharing anything about the sale.” She gives me a sidelong glance. “But they did share a bit about the buyer.”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because Mike and I both think the buyer is someone famous. A film director maybe. Or an artist. Can you imagine? First Emily, a bestselling author. Then you, a reality-TV surgeon. Now this guy! Maybe we’re sitting on the new Malibu—beachside living without wildfires or state income tax!”
The mention of Roxy’s husband, Mike, coaxes an inner smile. A New York transplant like me, he adds a welcome touch of the life I left behind to the reality I’ve since created for myself—a reality that’s just been rocked by the loss of neighbors I like.
“What are the clues you’re working with?” I ask, deciding to play along. If I’ve learned anything the past year, it’s to accept the things I cannot change. A tough task for a control freak like me.
“Les pointed out to this guy that he hadn’t even seen the inside of the house. The guy said he didn’t need to. He knew already that ‘the light is perfect.’ I mean, who would say that? Gotta be someone who’s in visual arts, right?”
“Maybe,” I agree tentatively, disquieted by the unexpected conversation. The road rises sharply before us, the incline steep enough to put a little burn in my thighs. “Doesn’t mean he’s famous, though.”
“That’s the thing.” Her words carry a note of breathlessness. “Les wouldn’t give numbers, but he did say it was crazy the guy didn’t just buy that huge compound at the end of the street. That house is listed for three and a half million!”
My mind staggers at the thought. Les and Marge have—had—a beautiful home, but it’s not worth anywhere near that much.
“I think I saw the buyer once through that big arched window in the living room,” Roxy goes on. “The blonde with him was a looker. Supermodel skinny with legs for days.”
I’m panting when we reach the top; Roxy, who hits a gym most days of the week, is not.
A quarter mile farther, there’s a street to the right leading to Dash Point. Beyond that and straight ahead, the road slopes back down and around until it’s at water level. Redondo Beach is there, as is Salty’s, a restaurant on stilts in the water with expansive views of Poverty Bay and beyond. I’m about to wax poetic about Salty’s seafood chowder when a runner dashes around the corner at a full sprint. His sudden appearance rattles me. A closer look makes me freeze midstride. My breath locks in my lungs.
There are too many things to register at once, so my mind attempts to absorb the whole man. Dressed only in black shorts and shoes, he is a visual feast of deeply tanned skin, intricate sleeves of tattooed art, and sweat-slicked, flexing musculature.
And his face. Sculpted. Square-jawed. Brutally, breathlessly handsome.
Roxy, now a few feet in front of me, gives a low whistle. “Hot damn.”
***
Sylvia Day is the #1 New York Times, #1 USA Today, #1 Sunday Times, #1 Der Spiegel, and #1 international bestselling author of over twenty award-winning novels sold in more than forty countries. She is a #1 bestselling author in twenty-eight countries, with tens of millions of copies of her books in print. Visit the author at www.sylviaday.com.
A hot summer beach—
A marriage gone wrong—
Daring eyes and daring
love, betrayed by a secret passion.
Kim
feels trapped in a loveless marriage to a jealous, wealthy older man. He blames
her for crippling him in an auto accident that he himself caused. Kim strives
to make the marriage work, despite her husband’s blame, verbal abuse, and
bitterness. When she meets a wickedly handsome man on the beach, she fights not
to want him, not to want a new life and not to fall in love.
But
Derek is seductive and irresistible—a former soldier who has recently come to
town to start a landscaping business. Kim falls hard for him, as he does to
her. Although Kim wants a divorce, her husband finds out about their affair and
devises a plot to destroy them both. They must struggle to survive a web of
lies, deceit and dangerous passion.
Disclaimer:
I received a complimentary copy of DARING SUMMER by ELYSE
DOUGLAS. The opinions expressed here are entirely my own. Many thanks
to VIRTUAL AUTHOR BOOK TOURS for the advance copy!
It was truly a pleasure to sit and read DARING SUMMER by ELYSE DOUGLAS! I was fully invested in the “who-dun-it” of this book
by the time I had read the full blurb! I just couldn’t wait to read it and see what
the pages held in store!
The
characters were incredibly well-developed. With the descriptions of their
physical characteristics and their behavior, a very vivid picture of each of them
grew as each chapter sped by!
DARING SUMMERis an incredibly
fast-paced book with a plot that whipped this reader into a fury as Ben Maxell showed
his true colors early on! Things move quickly from the first chapter as the authors
take us on the daring journey through the sand dunes of Scorpio Beach during
this brilliantly crafted book!
I very highly recommend DARING SUMMER for anyone that enjoys a great romantic suspense
novel!
I give DARING SUMMER by ELYSE DOUGLAS five gleaming gold stars!
Please tell us your story as a husband/wife writing
team. How did you meet, how did you
discover you could write as a team, etc.
A: We met at the Greenhouse Theatre in New York,
a theatre dedicated to nurturing writers, directors and actors. We were both writers, but I was also working
as an actress in the soap opera Guiding
Light.
After
a night of working at the theater, Doug asked me if I wanted to go to a party that
some of his friends were throwing to celebrate the production of his new play,
and I said, “Why not?” We have been
together since, more than twenty years… But whose counting?
When
writing novels, we work together in a variety of ways. It depends on the plot and characters. We start with plot, structure, tone, then
characters. We write maybe 10,000 or
20,000 words. If by then the story
doesn’t smell right, we drop it and move on.
We have begun and dropped at least five books over the years, two were
completed. C’est la vie!
What draws you to this genre?
A: In the romantic suspense genre, characters are often struggling with inner
demons that drive them to action. At
least the better ones do. It’s not just
a sexy attraction, but what lies beneath the dialogue and the plot that strips
away the protective layers that allows the characters to truly fall in love.
How long did it take you to write this book
from concept to fruition?
A: We made several attempts
at Daring Summer before we were happy
with it. We completed a draft a couple
of years ago and then set it aside, returning to it twice more before finally
completing it. So, from start to finish,
over two years.
How important do you believe having a good
editor is for the success of your book?
A: A good editor is
mandatory—a must for every
writer. I know of no writer who doesn’t
need a professional editor to point out the cracks in the plot, the errant
grammar and the pretzel sentences.
What is your usual writing routine?
A: I write 6-7 days a week
at least four hours a day.
Do you find it difficult to juggle your time between marketing your
current book and writing your next book?
A: Marketing
is a challenge, but it is an essential part of writing. Without it, nobody will find and read your
book.
What do you do when you are not writing?
A: Read, walk, take vacations and go to fun
restaurants.
Every writer has their own idea of what a successful career in writing
is, what does success in writing look like to you?
A: Whenever
I hear that question this quote comes to mind and I laugh.
“No man/woman
but a blockhead ever wrote, except for money.”
– Samuel Johnson (1709-1784)
What do you hope people will take away from your writing? How will your
words make them feel?
A: Entertained, uplifted and wanting more.
Is there anyone you’d like to acknowledge and thank for their support?
A: Brian DeFiore,
agent and editor, who taught me the absolute necessity of having a good
editor.
Praise ‘Other
Side of Summer’ by Elyse Douglas
“5 stars,
another great, emotional read from this author!! I was hooked the minute I
started reading it. Be warned you will need a box of tissues to read. I really
love this author!”- Melissa Mendoza, Anne & Melissa’s Book Love
“I found this
to be a satisfying, well developed warm and enriching read. It gave me a lot to
think about. I will recommend it to readers of both genders, age high school
and up, who like substance in their novels.”-Laura Reading, Laura’s
Interests
“The book is
more than just a contemporary romance – it’s a family saga, a book about the
bonds of family, about love (not just between partners but between parents and
children), about life and the choices we make. It’s heartwarming and
heartbreaking at the same time. The writing is hauntingly beautiful, and the
author has a talent for crafting believable characters. An excellent book, and
I look forward to reading more by this author.”- Majanka, I Heart
Reading
“Great story, I
give it five stars. I thought the book was wonderful and emotional, and I
loved the writing style and how the words flowed. I was happy to
fantasize about being there to watch the story unfold. I loved this
story; took me back to my young beach days.”-Diana’s Book Reviews
For fans of A Knight of Silence and Read My Lips comes a YA historical western full of grit and heart…
In 1874, Ivy Steele’s deafness is more than a handicap. It’s a disease. Surrounded by a family that doesn’t understand her, she’s learned to cope and find solace where she can. Then, the unexpected happens. Her aunt dies, and her uncle sends her away to rejoin her father’s family in Montana.
Left to fend for herself, after the companion hired to escort her abandons her, sixteen-year-old Ivy faces continual hardship and danger. Several men see an unaccompanied Ivy as a flower ripe for the picking, and things only get worse when masked men hold up their stagecoach.
Barely scraping through, Ivy makes it to Montana with her nerves shaken and what little money she has in her boot. Expecting a peaceful if not affectionate welcome, Ivy finds herself in greater hardship than she’s ever known.
Surrounded by a stepfamily that hates her, and flung into a life where hearing is vital, Ivy finds solace in a handsome cowboy named Remy. But things with her new family are not what they seem. And Ivy is about to find out that the danger she faced on the journey west, has followed her to Montana…
Bethany Swafford dazzles with her stunning young adult debut, introducing a strong heroine, the hardships of frontier life, shocking twists, and a slow-burning romance that will leave you wanting more.
For as long as she can remember, Bethany Swafford has loved reading books. That love of words extended to writing as she grew older and when it became more difficult to find a ‘clean’ book, she determined to write her own. Among her favorite authors is Jane Austen, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and Georgette Heyer.
When she doesn’t have pen to paper (or fingertips to laptop keyboard), she can generally be found with a book in hand. In her spare time, Bethany reviews books for a book site called More Than A Review.
I finished reading My Hands Hold My Story by Bethany Swafford and I was left sitting in my chair waiting for something more! Surely the story wasn’t finished!
My Hands Hold My Story by Bethany Swafford is an awe-inspiring tale of one young deaf woman’s journey across an unknown country to a family that she hasn’t seen in ten years.
Ms. Swafford’s words paint a portrait on each page as she builds the story and each of her characters. The story is filled with intense emotion and she writes such incredibly life-like characters that are easy to either love or hate!
The ending of the story wasn’t so much of an ending as it as, what I hope, is the beginning of another story!
I highly recommend My Hands Hold My Story By Bethany Swafford! I give this book five steaming hot cups of Reviews by Room With Books cups of coffee!
Nana and the “c” is a book for all ages and all cultures as it is about family and the ability to support a loved one through the challenges of cancer. It is told from a seven-year-old’s perspective as she gathers the courage to face her grandmother’s illness and learns that her irritating younger sister is perhaps smarter than she seems. Together they also learn how to conquer their biggest fear and replace worry with wonder.
The story is uplifting and often humorous while symbolizing hope. It will make readers of all ages laugh, cry, and remember their own childhood and the relationships and events that influenced who they have become. The goal of this story is to help children through health crises in their family. The illustrator, editor and designer donated their time to help with the project in order to make possible the donation of copies of the book to waiting rooms of cancer clinics.
Thank you so much for your generosity. We’re donating books to hospitals and children’s centers. Anywhere people might benefit from an uplifting story dealing with cancer.
It is my pleasure to read and review Nana and the “c” by Doris Schneider!
It is written very simply so that it can be presented to the youngest child if they are of the age of understanding by their parents. My eight-year-old found it very easy to understand when we read it together!
Ms. Schneider’s own experience with cancer gave her a very effortless voice with which to tell the story to her grandchildren, thus passing it on to others in Nana and the “c”.
The illustrations are very exceptionally placed within the story and allow the readers an opportunity to peer inside the story in addition to reading it!
I definitely recommend this book for any family faced with telling young children about a cancer diagnosis! It takes a scary and complicated situation and simplifies it for our children to understand!
I give Nana and the “c” by Doris Schneider five steaming hot cups of Reviews by Room With Books cups of coffee!
I received a complimentary copy of Nana and the “c” by Doris Schneider for an honest review. The opinions expressed here are entirely my own. Many thanks to Loving the Book for the Advanced Digital Copy.
Doris Schneider is an artist, scene designer, writer, and educator. She taught at William Carey University and was a tenured professor of theatre at North Carolina Central University. She published two novels: Borrowed Things and By Way of Water.
After her own bout with breast cancer, she wrote this story based on a real event with her granddaughters. While the illustrator, Wenhai Ma, was teaching at Duke University, the two became long-term friends—culminating in their collaboration on Nana and the “c”.
Wenhai Ma – American-Chinese scene designer, illustrator and educator. He was granted tenured professorship at University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. He graduated from the Central Academy of Drama, China and Carnegie Mellon University, USA. He has taught at Duke University, University of Nebraska Lincoln, Purdue University and the Hong Kong Academy for Performing Arts, the Central Academy of Drama, China and the Nanyang Academy of Fine Arts, Singapore. He is the author of Scene Design Rendering and Media (Focus Publishing, USA) and illustrator for 10 children’s picture books in the US. He has designed sets and costumes for various dramas, operas and musicals in the United States, China, Hong Kong, Singapore, Taiwan and Indonesia. His first novel Such An Enchanted Night was published in Taiwan, 2017.
To view our blog schedule and follow along with this tour visit our Official Event page
Six months ago, Anya Fleming’s ten- year-old son, Willie-boy, found his father hanging in the barn. Traumatized over his father’s suicide, the boy hasn’t spoken a word since. Now, Willie-boy has come down with a grave, unknown illness and there’s only one man who can save him, Sutter Sky, a learned Blackfoot shaman known as Yellow Smoke—a shaman who was once deeply in love with Anya.
But Fate had other plans for Anya and Sutter—she was forced to marry Lewis Fleming, a cruel man who berated her night and day, and brokenhearted Sutter immersed himself in the mystical customs and beliefs of his People and became a shaman.
As if Anya didn’t have enough to deal with after her husband’s death and her son’s illness, an evil, sinister ghost is terrorizing their ranch. Anya is convinced the spirit is Lewis, who apparently isn’t done making her life miserable.
When she turns to Yellow Smoke for help, will he put side his bitterness and save Willie-boy? And can the renowned shaman dispel the powerful ghost from their lives and send him back to Hades?
It is always a pleasure to be introduced to an author I’ve never read before. Reading COMES A SPECTER, Book 2 of the Ghostland Series by Keta Diablo today was quite an experience and I’ve found another favorite author to follow!
Keta herself warned me not to read this after dark or in bed, and she was right! I probably would have scared myself to death with every sound from the weather or the menagerie of animals around me! Once I started reading COMES A SPECTER this afternoon, I couldn’t put it down!
Keta’s writing is evocative and chilling! Even though this is the second book in a series, I didn’t feel lost picking it up, so it stands alone very well.
The characters are wonderful! Anya is a strong lead female character! Once Yellow Smoke enters her life again, things become very interesting for Anya personally, as well as with the ghost that is on her property!
The ghost becomes an interesting character as we learn more about him! You’ll need to pick up a copy of COMES A SPECTER to find out who he is and how his story intertwines with Anya, Willy-Boy, and Yellow Smoke!
I very definitely recommend COMES A SPECTER, Book 2 of the Ghostland Series by Keta Diablo! I give this book five steaming hot cups of Reviews by Room With Books cups of coffee!
“Make my enemy brave and strong, so that if defeated, I will not be ashamed.”
Plains Tribes
Tendrils of darkness breached the room as Sutter slipped through the window of Anya’s room. He didn’t want Willie-boy to see him dressed for war, the ebony handprints –chin to cheek—the tunic and leggings splashed with blood red paint. If he didn’t return, he wanted the boy to remember how he looked the last time he saw him. A misty cloud of energy trailed Sutter as he sprinted through the woods, a sign the wraith was on the prowl and primed for killing. That suited Sutter just fine. He had one goal in mind—lead the ghost toward the pit. He’d worry about how to implement the second part of his plan when the time came. An odious stench spiraled up his nostrils, another potent omen the heavy, scuffing footsteps behind him belonged to Ten Wounds.
Moments later, a cry from the dead and damned cleaved the dark, chilling Sutter’s blood. No wonder Lewis had cracked, no wonder Anya and Willie-boy were terrified of the evil spirit. No wonder Cobb had said, ‘Run, brother. Take Anya and run.’ Close, the Zeuzeu was close now. Sutter imagined the ghost’s rank breath stirring the long, dark hair at the nape of his neck.
The pit loomed ahead. Sutter spotted the pine branches and broken boughs he’d placed over the illusory grave. “Now or never”, he said to the full moon overhead and came to an abrupt halt. Drawing a deep breath, he mustered up his courage and turned to face Ten Wounds. A haze of gray mist swirled around the spirit’s form, his human form. If the situation weren’t so serious, Sutter could have shouted with joy.
He took in the ghost’s visage. A quiver hung from his shoulder stocked with sharp, pointed arrows—a sign he’d transformed into the fierce warrior who once walked the earth. Steeped in blood (no doubt from his recent kills), his clothing hung in tatters around his massive frame—a vest made of animal hides, a breechcloth and fringed leggings. Sutter’s gaze traveled to his painted, pock-marked face. Yellow and white stripes marked his forehead and chin, and black circles blended into his dark eyes. For a brief second, Sutter’s insides quivered and ropes of tension knotted every cord and fiber of his body. Bleary, unearthly eyes speared Sutter when the wraith raised a hand of claw-like fingers and pointed at his enemy’s chest.
The wind, much like the sound of a thousand women wailing, keened into the deafening silence. Fire exploded from the ghost’s eyes—flames the fires of Hell couldn’t compete with. Sutter shouted over the infernal noise and flames. “You are not welcome here! Hear my words, you are dead!”
Like a misty cloud of energy, Ten Wounds lurched forward, a staccato rhythm of hisses and howls spewing from his foam-drooling mouth. Sutter had never imagined such a demonic apparition.
Author Keta Diablo, thank you for taking time to answer some questions. If you are ready, let’s get started!
First of all, thank you so much for hosting my latest Western Romance Ghost story, Comes A Specter. Your generosity is much appreciated.
Have you always wanted to be an author?
Oh, no. My mother, now 91 years young, reminds me that I always wanted to be number 1) a boy (I had four brothers), number 2) professional equestrian (course I called it a cowgirl).
Tell us a little about the last/latest book you’ve written
See below in my Author Bio – for some strange reason ghosts always show up in my stories. No different in Comes A Specter,Book 2, Ghostland Series. Several reviewers said they loved the book, but the ghost scared the bejeebers out of them. Gee, I wasn’t scared.
Anyway, I didn’t even know I was writing about all these ghosts. One day, as I was going through my back list of books, I said, “Oh. My. Gosh. Keta!! You write about ghosts all the time.” Read some of my blurbs and you’ll see what I mean. No matter what genre I choose, somehow a ghost shows up. I used to see them—ghosts—when I was a toddler, but that’s another story for another day. Maybe subconsciously, that’s why they keep showing up in my stories.
Where did you get the inspiration for this particular book?
Let’s see, where were we? Oh, yeah…inspiration for Comes A Specter. I love Western Romance, and since I have such a penchant for dead people, er, I mean those who have crossed over, I created sort of a new sub-genre, Western Romance Ghost Stories. I love writing about cowboys, cowgirls, horses, ranches, rodeos, and…did I mention translucent spirits?
On average how long does it take it for you to write a book?
That depends on many factors. First, a writer has to be at the top of her/his game physically and mentally to pull this off. Second, she/he has to create a great plot and well-developed characters (no cookie-cutter walk-ons). Third, he/she must plant their butt in the chair and write, write every day, even if you have to pull the words out of the air. Better to have gibberish at times than a blank page, right? Fourth, it depends on whether one is writing a novella or a novel. A novella, two months; a full-length novel 4-5 months. Caveat: Keta is a slow writer compared to many others.
Do you have any unpublished/unfinished scripts?
Yes, we all have those. Some I keep under the bed, never to see the light of day. Others are sitting on my computer and flash me now and then to finish them.
What types of books do you read?
Across many genres, but never romance when I’m writing romance. Thrillers, suspense, angels/demons, Native American fiction, and small-town contemporary (serious stuff). I hardly ever read humorous. I bet that doesn’t surprise you coming from a person who saw ghosts as a child, huh?
What books are you reading right now?
Freefall (Kristen Heitzmann)
The Dead Game (Suzanne Leist)
and…1,697 waiting for me on my Paperwhite Kindle (sad)
Which are your three favorite books of all time?
To Kill A Mockingbird, Man On Fire, Gone With the Wind, Legends of the Fall.
Do you/have you ever read a copy of your book after it has been published?
Gosh, no. I read it so many times while writing it; I’d get bored to death with the same old, same old. LOL.
What advice would you give to an aspiring author who is just starting out?
Well, I’m really no one to be giving advice to other writers. I made plenty of mistakes starting out myself, so maybe that’s it – study the craft of writing. Know the basic rules at least, and then get good enough at writing you feel comfortable breaking some. I mean, there are some you should never break, but breaking one now and then won’t cause the earth to stop spinning. I have a lot of books on my Kindle (see above). I can’t tell you how many times I read one chapter and delete the book. If it doesn’t grab me right away with lots of questions, then I’m outta there. Take for example Harper Lee’s opening line in To Kill A Mockingbird: Scout: When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow.
I mean, she hooked me. Completely. I was in the sixth grade the first time I read that line, and from that moment on, I wanted to know who Jem was and how the heck did he break his arm? That book really opened my eyes to reading, gave me an appreciation for love of the written word.
I hope all your reads are good ones; I hope you fall in love all over again with the written word every time you sit down to read a book.
Keta
Keta Diablo lives in the Midwest part of the United States on six acres of gorgeous woodland. When she isn’t writing or gardening she loves to commune with nature. A pair of barn owls return to the property every year to birth their young and show them off in the high branches of the oak trees. Nothing more adorable than these white fluffy babies with heart-shaped faces. A lifelong animal lover, Keta devotes her time and support to the local animal shelter. Emma LaPounce, a rescued feline, has been her furry companion for the last ten years.
Keta is an award-winning and best-selling author who writes in several genres: Western Romance, Historical Romance, Paranormal Romance and Contemporary Romance. In a past life, she wrote Gay Romance. Her books have received numerous accolades, including RWA contest finalist, Authors After Dark finalist, Top Pick of the Month and Recommended Review from top review sites, and Best Romance Finalist from The Independent Author Network.
Ps: For some strange reason, ghosts often show up in her stories, no matter the genre.
Keta would be thrilled if you’d find her on the Net and follow her:
Hannah was proud to be part of the MacBride clan. She loved her family, their land and her lavender.
When she found a love she’d wished for all her life on a trip to Paris she thought she had it all. But hidden circumstances separated them leaving her back home with an unexpected reminder of her brief love affair.
When Ash shows up on their ranch she is torn between wanting to share all her joy with him and afraid to trust him to love her, not just their child.
What a thrill it was for me to read The MacBrides-Hannah and Ash by J.L. Petersen! The book is brilliantly written with characters that soon are embracing you into their family, it is written in such an intimate way.
I love the way Mrs. Petersen has the MacBride family so tightly knit. This family is ready to go to blows to protect one of their own without any hesitation, whether it be their sister, or their mother!
I really enjoy the setting of the ranch in Colorado. Living in the Foot Hills of the Rocky Mountains, I’m familiar with the area around Grand Junction and know how beautiful it is.
The challenge between Hannah and Ash presents itself almost right away and takes most of the book to resolve as both of them are very stubborn, and neither of them is great at talking about how they feel.
I truly enjoyed reading The MacBrides-Hannah and Ash by J.L. Petersen! I’m looking forward to reading the next story about Brand and Callie and I’m definitely going back to read the first book about Logan and RJ.
I highly recommend The MacBrides-Hannah and Ash by J.L. Petersen and give it five steaming hot cups of Reviews by Room With Books coffee!
THE VICTORIA LIE by SARAH MARIE GRAYE is the second book in THE BUTTERFLY EFFECT SERIES.
THE VICTORIA LIE focuses on Zoe’s suicide attempt and the affect her plan has on those around her. Although this is the second book of a series, it stands alone very easily!
Zoe’s plans for her own death go awry and we are given a very close, inside look at the impact this has on the lives of her friend, Alison, and boyfriend, James.
Ms. Graye has written THE VICTORIA LIE in the same style as THE SECOND CUP (Book 1). The dialogue between the characters and each character’s internal dialogue is seen throughout the book. She allows us to see each of them in the moments as each learns of Zoe’s suicide and then we become more intimately acquainted with each of them as the book progresses.
Writing THE BUTTERFLY EFFECT SERIES, Ms. Graye is touching on some very real-life issues that we, as a society, are hard-pressed to discuss. I greatly admire her for writing about issues that are difficult to face!
I strongly encourage you to read this book, and then have your teens read it. It very well may open the dialogue that saves a life!
I give THE VICTORIA LIE by SARAH MARIE GRAYE four cups of steaming hot Reviews by Room With Books Coffee!
Many thanks to Rachel’s Random Resources and NetGalley for the Advance Reader Copy.
British writer Sarah Marie Graye is the author of The Butterfly Effect series, which looks at suicides and those left behind. The Second Cup, the first book in the series, was published in July 2017, and this Blog Tour is to celebrate the launch of the second book in the series, The Victoria Lie.
Win 3 x Signed copies of The Victoria Lie by Sarah Marie Graye (Open to UK Only)
*Terms and Conditions – UK entries welcome. Please enter using the Rafflecopter box below. The winner will be selected at random via Rafflecopter from all valid entries and will be notified by Twitter and/or email. If no response is received within (7) seven days, then I reserve the right to select an alternative winner. Open to all entrants aged 18 or over. Any personal data given as part of the competition entry is used for this purpose only and will not be shared with third parties, with the exception of the winner’s information. This will be passed to the giveaway organiser and used only for fulfilment of the prize, after which time I will delete the data. I am not responsible for dispatch or delivery of the prize.
Cover Designer: Melody Simmons with Bookcoverscre8tive Book Cover Designs
Billionaire CEO of the Imperial Knights security empire, Drake Ransley spends his days in full control of every element of his life. By night, he’s a man plagued by a mysterious dream about a brown coin. As time passes, the frequency of the dream increases and the penny morphs into a beautiful woman that Drake can’t stop thinking about.
Penny Berkey has just discovered that she has won the largest payout in lottery history, but it might not be enough to keep her away from danger. The promise of a major payout awaits. Danger lurks in the shadows. A stalker looms at every turn. Unable to elicit help from the police, she turns to the best security team money can buy – the Imperial Knights.
Drake knows the moment he lays eyes on her that she’s the woman from his dreams. His wolf instantly recognizes her as his mate. With danger lurking at every corner for her, he’s all the more determined to keep her safe by any means necessary.
Disclaimer: I received a complimentary copy of Saving Penny by Ariel Marie for the purpose of an honest review. The opinions expressed here are entirely my own. Many thanks to Enticing Journey Book Promotions for the advance copy.
I am usually a very loyal, one author shifter reader, but Saving Penny by Ariel Marie was worth taking a chance on! I enjoyed reading it very much!
Drake has dreamt of a penny for years with no understanding of the dream’s meaning! He has secured his financial future, as well as that of his brothers, with the Imperial Knights security empire. Then the dream morphs into a woman, but with no defining features.
Penny is the top sales person at her company, a fact that isn’t appreciated by all the men whom she has bested! Penny is blessed by a huge windfall that allows her to resign her position. But she garners a stalker in the last weeks of work. Enter Drake and the Imperial Knights!
Who wouldn’t want an Alpha Shifter, who has sensed Penny as his mate, to take on the head of your security team? The steaminess does ensue, and it is explicit, so this is not for the faint of heart!
Saving Penny by Ariel Marie is a fabulous book, written with a twisty plot, a swoon-worthy wolf shifter, a strong woman to stand with him, and characters that make it entertaining to read! It is short, so I was able to read it in a single sitting, even though I had to elbow my hubby out of my way several times before I was able to get to the end! Ariel Marie, you’ve made a new fan and I’m excited to read the next installment in the series!
I highly recommend Saving Penny by Ariel Marie and give it five steaming hot cups of coffee!
Ariel Marie is an author who loves the paranormal, action and hot steamy romance. She combines all three in each and every one of her stories. For as long as she can remember, she has loved vampires, shifters and every creature you can think of. This even rolls over into her favorite movies! She love a good action packed thriller! Throw a touch of the supernatural world in it and she’s hooked!
She grew up in Cleveland, Ohio where she currently resides with her husband and three beautiful children.
“Blount has written a heartrending but much-needed view on this subject. This book provides a nuanced look at the toxicity of rape culture and the long-lasting and harming aftermath of sexual assault.”— School Library Journal
From the award-winning author of Some Boys comes an unflinching examination of rape culture that delves into a family torn apart by sexual assault.
It’s been two years since the night that changed Ashley’s life. Two years since she was raped by her brother’s teammate. And a year since she sat in a court and watched as he was given a slap on the wrist sentence. But the years have done nothing to stop the pain.
It’s been two years of hell for Derek. His family is totally messed up and he and his sister are barely speaking. He knows he handled it all wrong. Now at college, he has to come to terms with what happened, and the rape culture that he was inadvertently a part of that destroyed his sister’s life.
When it all comes to head at Thanksgiving, Derek and Ashley have to decide if their relationship is able to be saved. And if their family can ever be whole again.
Disclaimer: I received a complimentary copy of SOMEONE I USED TO KNOW by PATTY BLOUNT for the purpose of an honest review. The opinions expressed here are entirely my own. Many thanks to SOURCEBOOKS FIRE and NETGALLEY for the advance copy.
Ms. Blount tackles the brutal subject of rape by a student athlete head on in this riveting novel which steers us through Ashley’s life leading up to her heart-wrenching rape, and the aftermath of her attack.
Ms. Blount illustrates how a rape rips through a family, a school, and a community in SOMEONE I USED TO KNOW. The effects are felt far beyond the moments of the actual rape and reach deep in to the hearts and souls of Ashely’s family and friends and are felt keenly for several years following the attack.
Ms. Blount shows a very realistic view of the mental anguish a rape victim lives with, often for many years following the actual rape, and how justice from the victim’s view, rarely is just.
I very much enjoy Ms. Blount’s style of writing and her character development was exceptional! This is the first novel of Ms. Blount’s I’ve read, but it won’t be my last!
I wish this book could become required reading for all junior and high school teachers and school staff, as well as incoming freshman boys and girls! I believe it would be a true eye opener for all of them!
I highly recommend SOMEONE I USED TO KNOW by PATTY BLOUNT and give it five steaming hot cups of coffee!
Powered by way too much chocolate, award-winning author Patty Blount loves to write and has written everything from technical manuals to poetry. A 2015 CLMP Firecracker Award winner as well as Rita finalist, Patty writes issue-driven novels for teens and is currently working on a romantic thriller. Her editor claims she writes her best work when she’s mad, so if you happen to upset Patty and don’t have any chocolate on hand to throw at her, prepare to be a subject of an upcoming novel. Patty lives on Long Island with her family in a house that sadly doesn’t have anywhere near enough bookshelves…or chocolate.
Your Honor, thank you for letting me address this court. The first thing I want to say is that I couldn’t wait to start high school. I liked the defendant. I really liked him. And I thought he liked me back. But now I know he never saw me as a person. I was nothing more than an opportunity for him. So now I can’t wait until I’m done with high school.
—Ashley E. Lawrence, victim impact statement
Now
Bellford, Ohio
The mirror is my enemy.
So is the closet.
There’s literally nothing to wear. Clothes litter my room. Several pairs of jeans are balled up on my bed because they hug my butt too tightly. T-shirts lie in piles on the floor because they’re too clingy. Shorts and skirts? No. They reveal too much leg. I throw them over my shoulder. Dr. Joyce, my therapist, claims it’s normal to have trouble getting dressed after what happened.
I always tell her I don’t care what’s normal after what happened; I just want normal—without qualifiers. I want to open my closet, pull on any old outfit, and not obsess about people thinking I’m asking for it.
“Ashley?”
I glance up and find Mom in my doorway, looking me over. I’m wearing a robe even though it’s about ninety degrees outside.
“You okay?”
“Fine,” I lie and dive back into my closet, mopping sweat from the back of my neck. We’d agreed that I’d go to school on my own today. It’s time.
“Ashley, look at me.”
I pull my head out of my closet and meet her eyes.
“Honey, I know you’re upset. We all are, but I promise you, it’s going to be okay.”
At those words, I clench my jaw and shoot up a hand. Then I just turn away because, honestly, I don’t know which part pisses me off more…the colossal understatement implied by a wimpy word like upset or the addition of the pronoun we, suggesting everybody else in this family knows exactly how I feel when they don’t have the slightest clue.
She sighs but nods and then steps over to the closet, rehanging the discarded clothes I dumped on my bed. “We haven’t looked west yet. California is truly beautiful. You know I’ve never been there?”
I roll my eyes. We haven’t looked anywhere. All we’ve done is talk about it, so I say the same thing I always say when this comes up. “Mom, I don’t want to move away.”
“But it could be a fresh new start for all of us, Ashley. No one would even have to know you were—”
“Mom.” I cut her off, forcefully this time. “I really have to get dressed.”
Her blue eyes, the eyes both of my brothers inherited, fill with the look that’s become way too common over the last two years. It’s disappointment. Is it directed at me or what happened to me? I don’t know anymore, and I don’t think it even matters. All I know is it’s so acute, I can’t bear to see it and have to look away. Once again, I return my attention to the closet to find something to wear.
“Okay. Have a great first day. Call if…if you need me.” She turns and heads downstairs.
I don’t answer because great days are yet another myth I’ve discovered in a long series of them, starting with the concept of justice. I roll my eyes. California. Like it would be no problem to just shut down Dad’s auto repair shop and move a family of five across the country where there are no grandparents, no aunts, no uncles or cousins.
As the front door closes and the engine starts in the driveway, my phone buzzes. It hardly ever does that anymore. I glance at the display, annoyed when some stupid tiny seed of hope blooms because there’s a text message from Derek.
Derek: Good luck today.
Rage ignites inside me like a match held to dry leaves. Cursing, I kick over my hamper, swipe every last book and paper off my desk, and come perilously close to hurling my cell phone at the wall. Good luck. Could he be this clueless?
As this is my brother, yes. He could be and often is this clueless…and worse.
Ashley: Yeah. Sure. Luck. That’ll help.
The phone buzzes again.
Derek: I’m sorry. I swear I am.
Sorry? I almost laugh. Derek doesn’t do apologies.
“Derek, tell Ashley you’re sorry,” Mom would order him after he’d made me cry for some thing or another.
And he’d say, “Sorry, Ash.” Mom would walk away or turn her back, and he’d stick out his tongue or roll his eyes and smile that Derek smile, and I’d know. I’d know he wasn’t really sorry. He was only saying it to make Mom happy. Apologies happen when you own up to having been wrong, and Derek has never been wrong in his life.
I stare at the words I’d have given anything to hear my brother say two years ago, but they’re too little, too late, and knowing Derek as I do, false.
I toss the phone to my bed and go back to pawing through every drawer in my dresser and every hanger in my closet for something to wear and finally spy something. It’s this old maxi dress Mom bought for me years ago. The tags are still on it. I grab it and hold it up. It probably doesn’t fit. I think I was twelve or thirteen when she bought it.
There’s a little pang in my chest. Twelve or thirteen.
Before everything changed.
I swallow hard, trying to hold on to the pain because if it gets loose—
Deep breath. Hold it in. Okay. Dress. Right.
I hold the dress up to my body, considering it. Yeah, it might work. I slip it on, smooth it out. It’s actually a bit big. And ugly. Shades of dull beige and brown in a paisley print that hangs all the way to my ankles. I grab a sweater to hide my shoulders revealed by this outfit and smooth down a cowlick in my hair, which has finally reached shoulder length again.
Above the shelf on my wall, there’s a mirror Mom bought so I could get ready for the new school year. I’d smashed the old mirror in another fit of rage not long after I’d hacked off my long hair. Yeah, this outfit does work. It hides pretty much everything.
I grab my phone and try to visualize the day ahead. Tara, my best friend, will meet me at school. She always has my back. The rest of the school is a different story.
Derek’s words rattle around inside my head like some kind of curse. Good luck, Ash Tray. You’ll need it.
Deep breaths. Breathe in, hold for one…two…three…four, breathe out. In, hold, out. In, hold, out. I hate doing these breathing exercises because I feel like a total loser. I mean, who has to concentrate on breathing?
Traumatized people like me, that’s who.
Two years. It’s been two years. I’m fine. I’m absolutely fine. I roll my eyes because that’s another thing I must do. Tell myself complete and total lies. It’s supposed to help me believe them, turning them into what my therapist claims are self-fulfilling prophecies. I get it. The power of positive thinking and all that crap. But the truth is, I’m still waiting to feel fulfilled, yet I keep doing the same stupid breathing exercise, and I keep repeating the same stupid lies until finally my heart stops trying to beat out of my chest.
This is it—the first day of school. Junior year. I can do this. I can. I will do this.
I do something else…something my therapist never told me about. I visualize. I imagine building a dam…a little beaver dam of logs and twigs and dried mud to keep all of the triggers and memories and rage and…pain from leaking out into my life. I spend some time shoring up my dam, and with one last deep breath, I head downstairs, pretending the dread that’s still climbing up my rib cage is anticipation for the first day of my junior year.
I see two coffee cups in the sink and dishes from my parents’ breakfast. It’s normal and typical, and it gives me something to hang on to while I wrestle all that dread back behind the dam.
I glance at the clock to make sure I have time and discover it’s after 8:00 a.m.
No, that can’t be right. I woke up extra early.
My shoulders sag while I stare at the clock blinking on the microwave over the stove and then pull the phone from my pocket. It shows the same time. How? How is this possible? They’re wrong. They’re both wrong. They have to be. I run to the family room, but the cable box is blinking the same time.
I’ve not only missed the bus, but I’ve missed the start of first period.
I shoulder my bag and start walking.
I thought I was past this. I thought the days when I’d lost huge chunks of time doing nothing except breathing were behind me.
***
School is terminally irritating.
I missed first period entirely, and by the time the old bat in the front office gives me my pass, I’ve missed half of second, too.
“Ashley. Hey,” Tara whispers when I finally take my seat in lit class, her face split in a huge smile. “What took you so long?” And then she looks at my outfit. “What are you wearing?”
I shake my head. “Don’t even.”
She puts up both hands in apology—or maybe surrender—and turns back to her notebook. Mrs. Kaplan is reading us the class rules and information about homework, exams, and class participation. I know this drill so I zone out. I take a look around the class, see who’s here, who’s not, and spot Sebastian Valenti over by the window at the same second he jerks his eyes away from me.
They’re really amazing eyes. Hazel. I used to think hazel was a color but found out it actually means eyes that change colors. Sebastian’s eyes look green sometimes, and other times, they look brown, and I’ve even seen them look practically yellow. Sebastian’s a good guy. The best. He saved me when my stupid brother didn’t. Wouldn’t. He keeps asking how I’m doing, and I keep saying fine. And that’s about as deep as our conversations ever get, so I just don’t bother anymore. I haven’t talked to him all summer. But he’s still a really good guy.
“May I have your attention please?”
The PA system cracks into life, and Mrs. Kaplan takes a seat at her desk while the principal welcomes us back to the new school year and tells us about some after-school clubs. And then, right after an announcement about several new teachers, Principal McCloskey ruins what’s left of my life.
“We’d like to welcome our new calculus teacher, Mr. Davidson, to Bellford High. In addition to teaching calculus, Mr. Davidson has agreed to help us start a new and improved football program. Tryouts for this year’s Bengals team will be held after school.”
A cheer goes up around the classroom.
I sit in my seat, frozen. I’m fine. I’m absolutely fine. I lie to myself, but my brain knows better, and I can feel that old pressure spinning inside my chest.
A hand squeezes mine, and I jolt like I’ve been struck by lightning. I look up into the concerned eyes of Tara. That’s when I discover everybody in the entire class has swiveled around to see how I’m taking this news. Most people look concerned, like Tara. But others are triumphant, like Andre, sitting at the front of the classroom, and Bruce, over by the windows next to Sebastian. I can’t stand it, can’t deal with it. Suddenly, I’m on my feet, running for the door. “Ashley! Ashley, come back here!” Mrs. Kaplan shouts after me.
I dart across the hall into the girls’ bathroom and lock myself into a stall. I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine.
I repeat the words over and over so fast, they morph into percussion that syncs to the pounding of my heart. It’s bad enough seeing everybody stare at me. Everybody blames me for canceling football.
Derek blames me.
My brother blames me for what happened two years ago. I can never forget that…or forgive it.
It doesn’t matter how many lies I tell myself or how deep I bury those memories, how strong the dam is. Those memories—the pain they cause—they keep finding ways to break out, and I’m just not strong enough to hold them back.
I don’t think I ever will be.
Two Years Ago
Bellford, Ohio
It’s raining, but I don’t care. I love the way the air smells when it rains. Earthy. Clean and fresh and—so alive. I’m totally psyched to start high school and don’t care if there’s a hurricane. Armed with my bright pink umbrella, I’m ready to head to the bus stop, but Mom says Derek could have the car if he drives both of us to school. I squeal and clap. I love riding shotgun with Derek…when he lets me, that is.
Derek’s been treating me like crap for ages. We’re only a year and a half apart, so we shared a stroller, took baths together, went to gymnastics and soccer together. We were on different teams, though. That always bugged me. I wanted to play on his team. We’re a unit, a combo special, a team. Justin, our brother, is a lot older. He has his own separate life. But Derek and I are best friends. Nobody knows it but me, but Derek wants to make video games when we grow up. He has a ton of cool ideas, too.
At least, he used to. He never talks about that kind of stuff with me anymore. Now he’s all about football and girls and driving and avoids me as much as he can. I annoy him. I don’t see how that’s even possible. I try to do all the things he always liked doing with me like movie nights and epic game battles. Now he just rolls his eyes and says I should get a life.
But this is my first day of high school. So that means we can hang out again. I’m older and not so annoying. Derek doesn’t argue with Mom about driving me to school, so I kind of assume that means he’s finally outgrown his problems with me. Mom said he would…eventually. I also kind of assume that driving us to school also means driving us home. He has other ideas.
“Take the bus home. I’m hanging with my friends later.”
“Oh,” I say, smile fading. “Yeah. Sure.”
My first day of high school is awesome in every possible way. I have lunch with Donna Jennings, a girl I know from middle school, who got her hair cut in this really cool undershaved style and got a boyfriend over the summer. She showed everybody the gold heart necklace he’d given her, and my heart sighed. It had stopped raining by the afternoon, so I take my time heading to the parking lot to ride home with Derek, but the space where he’d parked Mom’s car is empty.
Darn. I was supposed to take the bus home. I totally forgot.
“You look lost.” A boy with messy hair and blue eyes says. He is seriously cute and standing with three other boys against a blue car.
“Must be a freshman,” another says.
“Just looking for my brother.”
“Who is he?”
“Um. Derek Lawrence.”
They exchange glances and laugh. “Oh, you’re Ash Tray. Sorry, you just missed him.”
“Cut it out,” the cute one says. “I’m Vic. Victor Patton.” He smiles at me. Dimples. Wow.
“Hey, that’s what Derek calls her.” The boy laughs.
Oh my God. Derek told them that? My face bursts into flames, and I turn away.
“Leave her alone.” Vic straightens up and walks toward me. He’s tall, taller than Derek. “Derek left. He might be back. Why don’t you call him?”
Yeah. Good idea. I pull out my phone and hit his name. It rings, but he never picks up. Next, I try texting him. Meanwhile, the boys pile into the blue car and take off, splashing water all over me.
I brush muddy splotches from my clothes, choking back tears, and call Mom’s cell phone, but it goes straight to voicemail. I try calling Dad too. Same thing.
What am I supposed to do? I head back to the main entrance, sink down on one of the steps, and drop my chin into my hands. I sit there, quietly crying, until the steel doors burst open and a bunch of laughing girls jog past me. Quickly, I fluff my waist-long hair in front of my face to hide the tears. All but one of the five girls wear warm-up suits bearing the word Fusion in bright red letters down one leg.
One crouches down to get a look at me. “Hey. You okay?”
I nod vigorously. “Yeah. Fine.”
“You’re crying. Can I help?” She takes a step closer, and I scrub at my face with the back of my hand, like that has even a remote chance at erasing my complete embarrassment.
“Not unless you have a magic potion that works on stupid brothers,” I blurt. Oh my God! I slap a hand over my mouth. I need to die. Right now. Where’s a lightning bolt when you need one?
“Oh, a stupid brother. I have one of those.” She smiles. She’s so pretty. Long, dark, and lean, she looks like one of the models in my Teen Vogue magazines.
I’m suddenly interested in hearing her story. “Older or younger?”
“Younger. Takes annoying to whole new levels, like it’s some kind of vow he took. Do you know he actually put my retainer in the toilet? My mother nearly burst a blood vessel after that.” She giggles. “Oh! I’m Candace Ladd.”
“Hey.” This time, my smile is bigger. “Ashley. Ashley Lawrence.”
“You must be a freshman.”
I wince, face burning all over again. “Does it show?”
She laughs, revealing perfectly straight, bright white teeth that somehow remained impervious to her little brother ruining her retainer. “Nah. I’ve just never seen you before, and I know pretty much everybody. I’m a junior.” She studies me, her head angled to one side. “Lawrence, huh?” And then her dark eyes open wide. “Oh my God. Is that stupid brother you mentioned Derek Lawrence?”
“You know him?”
She nods. “Yeah, we’re in the same homeroom. Oh, wow. Brittany is gonna hate hearing he’s a jerk. She’s really into him.” Candace points to the field on the other side of the small parking lot. The pretty blond with the great smile is doing ballet pliés.
I stare and swallow hard. Brittany is everything I’m not. Beautiful. Skinny. She even looks like Derek with perfect blond hair and blue eyes. They could be Ken and Barbie. I have dark hair and dark eyes. “Maybe he’ll be nicer to her.”
“Come on.” Candace Ladd grabs my hand, tugging me off the step where I’d been sitting, crying. “You know what’s great for getting over the stupid stuff brothers do?”
I have no idea, but I follow her anyway, making my way across the lot to the field that’s empty except for these girls.
“Dancing.”
I plant my feet in the grass at that. I love dancing. I’d taken dance classes for years when I was little. But I stopped about two years ago and now have a roll of fat bulging from the top of my jeans. I’d stick out like one of those old Sesame Street games—one of these things is so not like the others.
“Everybody, this is Ashley Lawrence. She’s Derek’s sister.”
The really pretty blond snaps her head up at that. Her smooth hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and her blue eyes are so blue, I wonder if she wears contacts. “I’m Brittany,” she says with a smile. “And this is Tara, Marlena, and Deanne.”
“Hi,” I manage to squeak out while the girls each smile and greet me.
Oh God, they’re all so beautiful. Next to them, I feel like a freak.
I am a freak.
“Ashley’s gonna dance with us today. She’s got some brother crap to work out of her system,” Candace explains to her friends, and Tara’s face instantly breaks into an expression of total understanding.
“Oh, honey. I got two of them. Is Derek what caused all this?” She waves a hand with pink-striped fingernails at my new back-to-school outfit, currently splattered in mud thanks to the boys in the blue car.
“Um, indirectly,” I admit.
“Jerk.”
“What an asshole!”
One by one, they all give their opinion of Derek while adjusting hairstyles, retying shoes, and stretching leg muscles. I’m entranced.
“You a freshman?” Marlena asks, and my face heats up again.
I nod, expecting her to make a disgusted face, but she just says, “I’m a sophomore. Candace and Brittany are juniors. And Tara’s a freshman, like you.”
I perk up at this news. Finally, somebody my own age.
Brittany pulls a small wireless speaker from her backpack, turns it on, and sets it on a bench at the edge of the athletic field. “It’s nice having the field to ourselves for once.”
“Hey, let’s teach her the routine,” Deanne suggests. “Then she can try out for Ms. Pasmore.”
Wait, what? Try out?
Holy crap, I can’t. But the rest of the girls agree. Candace crosses her arms and studies me. “Can you do basic moves like pirouettes and leaps?”
I shake my head. “I haven’t done those in a long time.”
“But you know how?” Candace prods. I can only shrug. “Oh, come on. Just try.” She urges me with a smile.
“Come on, Ashley. It would be great if we both make it on to the team,” Tara adds.
Tara’s words shoot straight into my heart and sort of plant roots. Suddenly, I want this. I want to dance and be on the team and have friends who understand all of my Derek problems.
“It’s okay, Ashley. You can do this,” Tara says, and that spot inside my heart warms up again.
I swallow hard, rub my damp palms down my legs, and get into fourth position…or is it fifth? I perform a slow, shaky pirouette. The girls applaud, and my face feels hot.
“That’s seriously not bad for someone who hasn’t danced in a couple of years.” Candace lifts her palm for a high five that I happily give her.
Derek would freak out if I do this.
So I should totally do it.
“That’s really great, Ashley. Okay, now strut!” She calls out, and the girls line up with me, everybody moving left, pumping their arms. I follow along, astounded by my efforts. “Other way. That’s good, Ashley! Now make it bigger.”
We strut back and march in place, and then Brittany takes over, leading us in a series of big, bold movements—kicks, leaps, shoulder shimmies, and pirouettes. They were right. This is fun. We dance for over an hour. The girls teach me their entire routine, and I do it all and have no time to be mad about Derek.
When we finally stop, Brittany angles her head, studying me.
“You know, you should cut some of that. It’s way too long for you.” She waves a hand over my hair.
My hair reaches my waist. “I, um, don’t look good with short hair. I mean, no offense,” I quickly say to Tara, whose jaw-length bob looks totally awesome.
“No, not that short,” Brittany says. “Maybe about here.” She indicates the middle of my back with her hand. “Take some of it off. I think it’ll have more volume.”
“Yeah,” Candace agrees. “When you do those snap turns, you won’t whip us in the face.”
Deanne hands me some forms. “Here. After you try out, you’ll need to order these.”
I stare down the sheet of papers, see the various items, each bearing the team name, Fusion.
“What do you say, Ashley? Are you in?” Candace grins, those bright white teeth gleaming at me.
I scan the group of them, all of them perfect and pretty and good at dancing. “Aren’t you worried I’ll make you look bad? I don’t…look like you all.”
“Oh, honey,” Tara says, putting an arm around me. “All you need is some practice to build up your confidence.” She looks around the group for verification.
“Hell, yeah. In freshman year, I had braces on my teeth, a terrible haircut, and I was six inches shorter than I am now. I could barely talk to anyone,” Brittany admits. “But you have something I didn’t have in freshman year.”
I did? “What’s that?”
“Boobs.” The other girls crack up as my face bursts into flames. “The boys won’t see anything else. Trust me.”
Brittany and Candace hop into a car and are gone after a honk and a wave. Deanne and Marlena stand with me until a minivan pulls up, and then it’s just me and Tara. We start walking toward the school’s main exit.
“So how are you getting home?” I ask her, and she shrugs.
“Walk. I live pretty much next door.” She points down the road.
“Handy.”
“Well, see you tomorrow. It was nice meeting you.”
“You too,” I call back.
I start walking toward town, where my dad’s garage is, wishing I had a bottle of water with me. My legs are like noodles after all that dancing, and a two-mile walk does not appeal to me. Like a wish granted, a horn honks, and a shiny black Chevy slows down beside me.
“Hey, Derek’s sister! Need a ride?”
Oh. Em. Gee.
It’s him. The boy with the cute smile and the dimples.
My voice gets stuck in my throat, so I only nod.
“What’s your name? Your real name, I mean,” he asks through the open passenger side window, smiling and making my wobbly legs even weaker. He isn’t going to call me Ash Tray? Swoon.
“Um. Ashley.” My voice is all squeaky.
“I’m Vic.”
“Yeah, I remember.” Vic. What a cool name. The coolest name in the world. I want to name a baby Vic.
He laughs. “Good. So where are you heading?”
“Oh, um. To my dad’s garage. Over on Blaine.”
“Right, right. I know where it is. Hop in,” he invites with a jerk of his head. “I’ll give you a lift.”
It never occurs to me to say no. He has such a great smile. His hair is somewhere between blond and brown and so messy I itch to touch it and smooth it. He’s really tall but lean. And his eyes are so blue, they look like pools you never want to get out of. But it’s that smile, the one with the dimple at the corner, that makes me forget my name.
“So, Ashley. You’re what? A freshman?”
Is there a sign hanging over my head or something? Wincing, I nod. “It must show.”
“Just a little.” He looks over and winks. “I’m a senior.”
A senior is driving me home. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.
“Did you join a club or something?”
I nod, and suddenly remember I am probably in urgent need of a shower or a can of deodorant or a wet wipe, and I try to shrivel up against the passenger door and hope he doesn’t get close enough to sniff me. “Yeah. The dance team.”
“Fusion? That’s awesome! The dance team performs at all the Bengals games. I’ll probably see you at practice. Our coach had a meeting today, otherwise we’d have been on the field.” He slows down for a traffic light.
Can he hear my heart pounding?
“How do you like Bellford High?”
“I like the girls on the dance team. And I like my science teacher.”
“Who did you get?”
“Mr. Wilder.”
“Oh, yeah, he’s great. I had him. He likes to give pop quizzes every week, so be ready.”
“Oh. Yeah. I will.”
“Nothing terrible. Just read ahead and you’ll be fine.”
Read ahead. I can do totally do that.
Vic puts on his turn signal and waits for a left turn. “So your brother’s kind of a jerk to you, huh?”
My heart sinks, and I slide a little lower in my seat.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll say something to him tomorrow.”
Suddenly, I’m grinning like a maniac. There’s probably a circle of cartoon birds and butterflies flying around the heart that just floated out of my body. Vic laughs and shakes his head as he pulls to the curb.
“We’re here. It was nice to meet you, Ashley Lawrence.” Vic hands me my bag as I pretty much fall out of the car on legs I can no longer feel. “See you tomorrow.”
“Yeah. Tomorrow.”
He honks and waves as he pulls away. I’m halfway in love.
“Ashley? Who was that?” Dad asks. He just stepped out of one of the garage bay doors.
“Hmm?”
“Ashley!”
I turn and see Mom in the entrance to Dad’s garage. “Mom! Can we get my hair cut? Please? I’m gonna try out for the dance team, and my hair is too long, and it’s in the way, and I met a senior named Vic, and I need to buy these if I make the team.” I finally pause for air, and Mom takes the Fusion gear order form I have clutched in my hand.
“A haircut. And a uniform. Well, okay. But a senior? No. I don’t know about that.”
“I’m with you on that,” Dad says, grabbing Mom in a hug and tickling her until she squeal
For as long as she can remember, Bethany Swafford has loved reading books. That love of words extended to writing as she grew older and when it became more difficult to find a ‘clean’ book, she determined to write her own. Among her favorite authors is Jane Austen, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and Georgette Heyer.
Doris Schneider is an artist, scene designer, writer, and educator. She taught at William Carey University and was a tenured professor of theatre at North Carolina Central University. She published two novels: Borrowed Things and By Way of Water.
Wenhai Ma – American-Chinese scene designer, illustrator and educator. He was granted tenured professorship at University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. He graduated from the Central Academy of Drama, China and Carnegie Mellon University, USA. He has taught at Duke University, University of Nebraska Lincoln, Purdue University and the Hong Kong Academy for Performing Arts, the Central Academy of Drama, China and the Nanyang Academy of Fine Arts, Singapore. He is the author of Scene Design Rendering and Media (Focus Publishing, USA) and illustrator for 10 children’s picture books in the US. He has designed sets and costumes for various dramas, operas and musicals in the United States, China, Hong Kong, Singapore, Taiwan and Indonesia. His first novel Such An Enchanted Night was published in Taiwan, 2017.
British writer Sarah Marie Graye is the author of The Butterfly Effect series, which looks at suicides and those left behind. The Second Cup, the first book in the series, was published in July 2017, and this Blog Tour is to celebrate the launch of the second book in the series, The Victoria Lie.
