#Whole30 #Writing Log: Day 5

Free Fiction Has Come from the Wilds (3)

How the heck am I supposed to cheat with the good creamer when Bo’s home from work?

It’s taken a lot of stealthy sneakery, let me tell you. I put him on tooth-brushing detail before the school bus came. I’ve waited until he’s checking something on Facebook. I’ve listened for him to shut the bathroom door.

Aha! Creamer! It’s mine, I tell you, MIIIIINE!

Ahem.

And then he had to go into the kitchen to make his lunch. Can’t he cook somewhere else? Use the grill, most of the snow’s melted by now.

Dammit, now I gotta use the cashew milk.

BLECH YUCK BLECHITY BLECH

Ahem.

So why is Bo off of work? Biff and Bash have a concert this afternoon during their school day. It’s themed “All Things February,” only without anything Valentiney for some reason. Who wants to sing about Valentine’s Day when you’ve got American presidents, groundhogs, weather, and nonsense words like “skinnamarink”?

Buuuut it’s a bunch of kingergarteners, so therefore it will be cute. So long as they’re not singing about poop or farts, I’m fine.

What, don’t your kindergarteners sing about poop and farts? Don’t your third graders? Mine do!

No, I’m not subjecting you to that nonsense. If you want a taste of their humor, go check out the best-selling Middle Grade comic series Dog-Man.

515fAmmGpEL._SX258_BO1,204,203,200_In the meantime, I’m trying to broaden the kids’ horizons with a little poetry. I found a gorgeous picture book edition of “The Negro Speaks of Rivers” by Langston Hughes. Every line receives a painting rich and passionate, so you move slow through the poem, savoring every line.

Langston Hughes is one of my favorite poets. Reading him is always a journey of multiple senses, twisting and turning down the white-space of the page, feeling both the cut of the language and the long echo of the visual.

Just listen to this.

My favorite lines:

I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older than the
     flow of human blood in human veins.
...
I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.

“When dawns were young”…what a magical phrase, infinite and divine.

Not that my kids would listen.

“Look, Mommy, I made Bumbleebee fart on Starscream!”

Sigh.

Give’em time, Jean. They’re kindergarteners. You’ll get them there in time.

Go read Langston Hughes this month. Read him out loud, too, so others can be touched by his language.

Buy my book, too, or you can read my FREE fiction here or herebut only after you read some Langston Hughes.

Free Fiction Has Come from the Wilds (2)

Read on, share on, and write on, my friends!

JeanLee-nameLogoBoxed

#Whole30 #Writing Log: Day 4

Free Fiction Has Come from the Wilds (3)

More mist today. A spring-like humidity clings to winter coats: still too much snow to be outside without them, yet the freak warmth makes one feel like it’s April, not February. That’s Wisconsin for you.

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Bash, Hoppy, and I on a happier day.

If only the mist didn’t seem to fit so perfectly with Bash’s constant talk of death.

“Noooo, I have to wear my mittens so I don’t get frostbite and die!”

“Can choking make me die?”

“Mom, how does Jesus get me after I die?”

Where this fixation came from, I don’t know. I’m surely responsible, at least in part, what with my Stop wrestling on the stairs before  you kill each other! kinds of threats. Bo’s not helping, either.

“Mommy and Daddy are on a diet so that our coffins don’t break pallbearers’ backs.”

Y-yeah, that’s a great thing to tell the kids.

Yet I can’t bring myself to be angry, or even annoyed. See, not only did my father die suddenly in February–Bo’s, did, too, just three years before Dad.

“Mom, your mom is Grandma. Grandma is still alive, but your dad’s dead. How did he die?” Bash asks while playing with Transformers, like this is a normal question during a normal day, like this is a thing to ask right before “What’s for lunch? Do we have string cheese?”

His heart stopped working,” I say quietly.

“And then he went to heaven?”

“Yup.”

“Where is heaven?”

“On top of the universe.”

“Ooooh,” Bash whines, and finds my lap without looking up from Optimus Prime mid-transformation. “That’s far away from you.”

I wrap my arms tight around my baby Bash, no longer so little,, but always my youngest, my snuggler, my storyteller. “Not that far, Bash. Never that far.”

~*~*~*~

Snuggle with your loved ones today. Give’em a kiss, show them what they mean to you.

Of course, I’m going to plug my novel here, too. but seriously, share your heart today. Life is too short not to fill it with love and hope.

Free Fiction Has Come from the Wilds (2)

Read on, share on, and write on, my friends.

JeanLee-nameLogoBoxed

#Whole30 #Writing Log: Day 3

Free Fiction Has Come from the Wilds (3)

Today’s been a day of mist, slush, and boiled eggs. While I trudge through term-opening hello’s and how-do’s with students, Bo cleans the kitchen and boils 3 dozen eggs for he and I to nosh on during the work week.

“Think popcorn is okay?” he asks. “There’s got to be something snackish that’s safe.

“Dunno,” I say while trying the cashew milk in my coffee.

Bo watches me sip. And grimace. “Well?”

I smack my lips. “Well, it’s, um, it’s there.”

“Yeah, that was how I felt about the coconut milk in my tea last night.”

Behind him is the door of the fridge. Behind the door of the fridge is my creamer. My GOOD creamer. “You’re gonna finish that cashew stuff off, aren’t you?”

Bo’s not making eye contact. “Yeees.”

“Good,” I say in a snit and snoot on out of there. Our grocery bill exploded for this diet. Meat’s pricey enough, but six bucks for a small jar of mayo? Robbery, I tell you!

And because Bo’s hardcore into this diet, he bought two jars. Multiple salad dressings. Multiple nut milks. We have to keep checking what’s “Whole30 compliant,” and of course none of these things are easily found, let alone cheap.

Here’s the site we’ve been using, in case you’re interested: https://www.oliveyouwhole.com/category/whole30/

When I look our fridge, my stomach churns. Is our tax return just going to end up funding this diet?

It’s a nauseating thought.

But I want Bo to want to be healthy, and for the first time in years, he does. He can’t just eat meals of pasta and bread anymore. I can’t be stuffing my face with chocolate chips anymore. Our kids deserve better role models of moderation and health. If they can face their fears atop the highest sledding hill by their grandma’s house, zipping down that slope no matter how nasty the previous wipe out, then dammit, we can survive a month without peanut butter and milk.

Oh! Speaking of which, we survived that mountain yesterday!

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Clockwise: Biff and I sailing down, Blondie just before her hat flies off, Bash and I wipe out, Bash narrowly missing another saucer kid 

You should have seen the broken sleds littering its bottom, like ships crushed by the rocks along a perilous New England shore. Ye gods, I thought I was going to pass out. But all three of the Bs trekked up the slope–surely the length of home plate to the outfield if not further–and just FLEW. Toppled a lot, too. One girl did careen into Biff early on, and Bash got a nasty face wash when we wiped out together, but nothing bad happened. No bloodshed. No screaming for the ER. Just mad giggles of delight.

So even though I couldn’t touch my mother’s pumpkin chocolate chip cookies, it was, in the end, a good Saturday.

A perk to this day? Seeing that my Tales of the River Vine bumped back into the top four slots of free YA Monster Fiction again. WOOHOO!

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To all who grabbed a copy, thank you! To those who haven’t, grab one now! They’re free, after all, so even the most meager of budgets can afford a quick read into a dark fantasy. 🙂 I’ve another short story free on my site for newsletter subscribers, too–click here for more info. 

And if you dig those short stories, you can check out my novel for just a buck!

Free Fiction Has Come from the Wilds (2)

Read on, share on, and write on, my friends!

JeanLee-nameLogoBoxed

#Whole30 #Writing Log: Day 2

Free Fiction Has Come from the Wilds (3)

Ssssh.

I already cheated.

Just a little! I used some creamer in my morning coffee. The bottle’s almost empty, and wasting is always so awful, and…oh shut up, I just wanted my creamer.

But you know, even one day of drinking black coffee made a difference. The creamer felt heavy-sweet in that first cup, so I didn’t add any more as I refilled the coffee, thinning out its effect in the other cups. Hmmm, maybe there is something to that serving of “one tablespoon,” or however it is, compared to the, um, quarter cup I usually use. 🙂

Still…Don’t tell Bo. And hopefully he doesn’t read this while I sit right next to him in the car, suffering Rick Astley and preparing my inner-panic for a sledding trip with the kids.

Lesson learned: Rick Astley does NOT help settle Mom-panic.

“Don’t worry, Mommy,” Biff keeps telling me. “There’s no bleachers at the sledding hill by Grandma’s.”

Thank goodness for that–our sledding season of last winter ended when Biff crashed into bleachers at the base of our park’s sledding hill and lost two baby teeth.

So much blood from one child. Lost teeth from sledding. Stitches from a Ferris wheel. When he was a baby he tripped at the park and bit through his lower lip. Jeez, this kid’s only six, and he’s seen the ER more than I did in twenty years of life.

I have to admit there are moments when I grab Biff more, run faster to his screams. Of course I love all three of my children, but…well, I’ve seen more blood flow from Biff. He’s been hurt more than the others in ways I cannot heal, and there’s a guilt there I cannot ever really silence because of this.

So now here we go to sled on a giant hill, where a million terrible things can happen.

A million wonderful things, too.

Focus on the good, Jean. Focus on the good.

Sneak a little more creamer, and focus on the good.

Thanks for reading! Don’t forget that my novel’s on sale, too. Spread the word among your fantasy-lovin’ friends!

Free Fiction Has Come from the Wilds (2)

Read on, share on, and write on, my friends!

JeanLee-nameLogoBoxed

#Whole30 #Writing Log: Day 1

Free Fiction Has Come from the Wilds (3)

It’s probably a good thing the weather let up enough that kids could return to school on this, my first day on Whole30. Now that sugar’s off-limits, I’m constantly reminded how much sugar there is in the house: the creamer in the fridge. The pop-tart crumbs everywhere. The cocoa mix. The peanut butter.

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm peanut butter….

I was ready to help myself after making the kids their school lunches, but I couldn’t touch it. Not a spoonful. Not a nibble. Not a bit.

You can imagine the crabby demeanor that came over me then.

BUT.

I am doing this for Bo. For my littls Bs. For me.

It’s just 30 days.

I can do this!

And so far on this Day 1, I am doing this. I’ve kept myself to veg and meat for my meals. I’ve had black coffee or water. I’m going to try cooking some Whole 30 dishes this weekend, so if one of them turns out, I’ll let you know. For now I’m going to keep it simple for Bo’s sake with meat’n’potato type stuff. That’s usually a bit kinder on the wallet, too. Did you know clarified butter costs 10 bucks??? Nooooo thank you, I’m going to make my own.

Which, if my venture into canning is any indication, should prove to be, um, interesting.

In the meantime, the first of my free monthly fiction installments is here! If you head on over to Free Exclusive Fiction from the Wilds (you should see a link in that menu bar thingey towards the top of the page) you’ll see a link for a short story I wrote. No, it’s not related to River Vine; it was inspired by an artist’s photo a long time ago. The story hit me so hard I had to get it down…and then it sat. And sat. And sat. Unread, unloved.

This is the perfect opportunity for me to share it with you! I do hope you’ll share your thoughts on it with me. I’m tempted to explore that universe some more, but only if there’s interest among you, awesome readers.

Don’t forget my novel’s on sale! Spread the word among your fantasy-lovin’ friends!

Free Fiction Has Come from the Wilds (2)

Read on, share on, and write on, my friends!

JeanLee-nameLogoBoxed

#Writing #Music for the #FirstChapter in your #NewAdventure: @HansZimmer, #DavidHirschfelder, @Junkie_XL, & #StephenFlaherty

Gosh, did I score on music this winter.

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Sure, there’s some sweet Christmas music in there (Yay, more Alan Silvestri!) but also plenty of fantasy and adventure, too. It’s the sort of gathering that makes me eager to close my invites me to hide from my kids for a few minutes with headphones, a chance to close my eyes and explore the possibilities…

…but which way do I go?

It’s a crossroads moment, to be sure. Maybe I need to be like Anastasia, and wait for a sign, like a magically house-trained dog covered in Don Bluth cuteness.

Whenever I feel tired of writing, this song makes me excited to get back into it again. There’s adventure in the mind, hidden deep in trees born of words and dreams. One just needs to take that first step in to see.

Perhaps that first step transports you into the night. Something stalks you in the dark…or perhaps you are the stalker, hunting the threat before It escapes among the Innocents.

Rain begins to fall, and you fall into line, the world unsuspecting of the mystery that runs amok in night’s grit and fervor.

Or…

Perhaps that first step transports you to impossible heights. Clouds kiss your feet.

Your comrades call to you, waiting for you to join them in the descent down, down to where adventure rides sunbeams and waterfalls, tunnels through ancient tombs of fallen kings.

Or…

Perhaps that first step transports you into the heart of The Storm. Lightning flashes, and you see the grey, grassy field you’re in goes on, and on, and on in all directions but one.

Lightning flashes, and you see you are not alone.

Lightning flashes, and you see nothing.

You hear a breathing not your own.

Lightning flashes, and–

Who knows?

So many stories, so little time!

But I’ll make the time. I have to, since now I’m creating new fiction to be shared with newsletter subscribers. You can see the hub for it on the home page of my website now: “Free Exclusive Fiction from the Wilds.” When you click there, you’ll see whatever the new fiction is for the month: a Fallen Princeborn story, maybe, or something for my Shield Maidens of Idana. A character dialogue, perhaps, or maybe just a standalone story I felt like writing. Every month will bring something awesome, so awesome it’s gotta be locked up with passwords, mwa ha ha ha! The newsletter will have the password to unlock the fiction.

(And now I suddenly feel like I’m in a Zelda game, going to such’n’such place for the yadda yadda key to unlock the neato treasure. Ah well, you get me.)

In the meantime, I’m still working on the novels for my Fallen Princeborn Omnibus. Still teaching and family-ing. But Bo’s got me mixed up in a challenge that, by default, I’m going to inflict on you.

The Whole30 Diet.

In the briefest of terms, Whole30 says eat meat and produce, nothing else: no dairy, no grains. Coffee and tea are okay so long as you’re not adding stuff to them. You do this for 30 days to “reset your gut,” as it were, training it to burn fat instead of sugar for energy.

Bo really wants to tackle his weight this year, and I want to support him by doing it, too. I think we all learned last year that I’m not the best at adhering to diets, so I’m hoping that by holding myself accountable here, I can stay on task and therefore help Bo stay on task.

This means I’m going to try blogging for 30 days straight.

Not, you know, extensive pontificating for 30 days. Just honest reflection on how it’s going. Maybe something cool I’ve read, or some awesome quotes to get you thinking as you write or read. Some interviews of amazing Indie writers, some more music to inspire, and hopefully a “lessons learned” post about series writing that touches on a legit gripe many readers have about storytelling today.

And since I’m try to trim m’self down with Bo, then let’s just top this off with a sale on my novel, Fallen Princeborn: Stolen. For the entire month of February, Stolen will be 99 cents.

we have all of us had our bloody days, charlotte. for many it is easier to remain in them than to change. to change requires to face a past stained by screams. (15)

So, bring on the February! Bring on the cold, the coffee, and the dreams of stories not yet finished, not yet begun!

Something tells me it’s going to be a crazy-beautiful adventure. 🙂

Read on, share on, and write on, my friends!

JeanLee-nameLogoBoxed

 

 

 

 

 

Some days my #family shares amazing #writing #inspiration. Other days, not so much… #marriage & the #writinglife

In posts past I’ve mentioned I get inspiration from my kids–something they say, for instance, or a struggle they’re facing in school. 

There are other times, however, when inspiration is the last thing I get from my family.

Take this month. Writing’s been a tough racket, what with preparation for a new term, snow days, and teachers cancelling school for “professional development.” But I am a hearty Midwesterner and shall prevail! I continue working on the third Fallen Princeborn novel while prepping the first novel, Fallen Princeborn: Stolen, to go on sale for ALL OF FEBRUARY.

(Oh yeah. Watch out for that price drop. Tell your fantasy-lovin’ friends!)

we have all of us had our bloody days, charlotte. for many it is easier to remain in them than to change. to change requires to face a past stained by screams. (14)

I’m also brainstorming up some fresh’n’FREE Tales of the River Vine and a few other stories to be shared exclusively with newsletter subscribers.

(What? You’re not subscribed to the monthly newsletter yet?

*GAAAAASP* Fix that now!)

Anyway.

So I’m developing another project, one I alluded to a while back: a fantasy adventure story featuring twins who need to learn the strengths of brotherhood. (Can’t imagine where I found the inspiration for that story…)

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There goes Bash of the Yukon on another expedition…

I had an epiphany about what to name the brothers, but realized the names would require permission from a big-time person in order to pull it off. That meant having a title and rough synopsis worked out. Typing up a wee synopsis was one thing, but the title…ugh, the title. This is a title that must reflect fantasy, adventure, and NOT romance. For once, let’s have a story where protagonists don’t find love and/or sex in the plot. The title needs to reflect that absence. Something strong…otherworldly…

I poke the back of Bo’s neck, for surely Blondie’s math homework doesn’t have to be reviewed right this minute.

Hey. You’re a guy.

“Yeeees?”

I need your take on a title.

“Shoot.”

Race the Bronze Breath.

Bo’s face twists. He stifles a laugh…then gives up and lets it out. “Seriously?”

What? It’s racing. It’s fantasy.

Bo’s still laughing. “What’s that even mean?”

I…I dunno. I just thought it sounded cool and steampunky.

“Well racing’s fine. Racing says something’s got a time limit, and it’s, you know, tense. But what’s bronze breath?”

Okay, I get it, it doesn’t work. What kind of fantasy adventure title would work for dudes?

Bo without blinking: “Not Game of Thrones.”

That is not a title.

“Says you.”

I think about my brainstorm of race names, the current YA titles out there that are really long, a touch blunt.

How about Break the Centurion or Die Trying?

Bo throws down the pencil: “Again, what…are you trying to be Sergio Leone?”

Well then YOU think of a cool dude title.

“Racing Adventure with Marathon Quest.”

O-kay. But that doesn’t sound really dangerous.

“Super Killer Race of Deathly Death.”

No.

“Bloody Hearts of Death Kill the Dead.”

NO.

Blondie looks up from her fraction muddle. “Bloody Heart of the Dragon’s Throne!” 

Hush, that doesn’t…well, hmmm. I write it down anyway, even though I wasn’t planning on having any dragons this time round. Time for a squeeze and a kiss for my eldest.

Thanks, Kiddo. Now back to those fractions!

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A picture of Blondie and her bottle snowman, just because. x

Bo follows me as I scribble in my notebook, all the way down the hall where I plop down on our bed. I click the pen in that fast, annoying fashion Biff adores, and say:

The problem is I do want a bit of camp to it, like Death Race 2000. Suppose I can’t call it Lethal Prix or Killer Run.

“Not if you don’t want Roger Corman to sue you…oh hey! Let’s Get Sued! Great title. And then I can get an autograph.”

That would be first on your mind, wouldn’t it?

BloodDeathKillQuest. All one word.”

NoIdon’tthinkso.

A Good Day to Die Hard…oh wait. That’s kind of taken.”

Yyyyeah.

Killing Starfighters of Justice. Keep it vague on purpose so people question if the starfighters are killing people, or if we’re killing the starfighters.”

The grammar humor of Airplane! likely ain’t gonna translate to the teen male audience.

“Well then there’s only one title that’s going to reach those readers.”

What?

Amazonian Thrill-Whores.”

Boob Race.”

Okay, okay. I give up. Forget I asked–

Outpacing the Inevitable….wait for it…Boobs.”

OH WOULD YOU JUST STOP IT

Sooooo I’m still working on that title. It’ll come to me. Hopefully without the aid of Amazonian Thrill-Whores, but who knows…

Read on, share on, and write on, my friends!

JeanLee-nameLogoBoxed

 

 

#Writers, what #storytelling elements go into #ChristmasStories? My #family gives a few clues. Oh, and my #fantasy #novel is #OnSaleNow.

As December days swirl by like snowflakes in winter’s wind, I like taking breaks from life for Christmas stories with my family. Be it watching A Charlie Brown Christmas or reading Santa Clauses: Short  Poems from the North Pole (a haiku collection I highly recommend), I love cozying up with my loved ones by the Christmas tree to laugh with Yukon Cornelius, whisper with Pocket the Rabbit, or sing “Away in the Manger.”

What is it about the stories we save for Christmas time? Why do we pack them up with the ornaments and stockings as another special sparkly for December? This week I talk with my family about their favorite Christmas stories to discover what makes them so special.

First, Biff.

Takeaway: Christmas stories should be fun, and elves are hilarious.

Next, Bash.

Takeaway: Christmas stories require a bit of action, even violence, in order to achieve the “happily ever after.” Also, alien robots.

Wonder what Blondie will add to the mix…

Takeaway: Learning what Christmas is all about is very important, especially when animals are involved.

Kids tucked up in bed, Bo and I pull out one of the many Christmas catalogs we’ve received lately to talk about a unique occurrence with Christmas: the Hallmark Christmas film. What has Hallmark figured out about Christmas stories that gives them the knack to make so many every year?

Takeaway: Pretty people with Christmasy names and/or places facing a little problem and/or a little death in order to achieve love…which basically means that Die Hard is the greatest Christmas movie ever. Even the 30th Anniversary trailer that just came out agrees. (For the record, Bo and I recorded our talk before seeing this trailer. Guess this makes us amazing!)

Will I ever write a Christmas story? I’m not sure. Bo and I began dating and even married around Christmas time, so I cannot deny there’s a certain magic to the season. I also know how sharp grief grows at Christmas, making its hope all the more critical to share before it’s too late.

Hmmm. Maybe Hallmark has a point about love…after Charles Dickens made it over 150 years ago:

I have always thought of Christmastime…[as] a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time…the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely…

-Nephew Fred, A Christmas Carol

So yeah, Christmas stories may seem a bit too schmaltzy at times, but know what? That’s okay. This is the season when we’re all just a bit more open to love’s magic. There’s a power in these December days unknown at any other time of the year. Use that power, friends, be it in your storytelling or your life’s story, to share the magic. Use whatever you need, be it dogs, cookies, or flying reindeer.

Also, alien robots.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Oh! Lest I forget, my novel’s on sale right now. The complete e-book and bonus content are on sale for just $2.99!

We have all of us had our bloody days, Charlotte. For many it is easier to remain in them than to change. To change requires to face a past stained by screams. (6)

Be sure to give some indie books to your fellow readers, and reviews to your fellow writers on Amazon and Goodreads! Nothing’s as awesome as the gift of words.

A most blessed Christmas to you all. Read on, share on, and write on, my friends!

JeanLee-nameLogoBoxed

#writerproblems: #sacrifice in #storytelling & in the #writinglife

My NaNoWriMo word count shames me. I owe another writer interview answers. I’m supposed to reach out to a few other writers about co-promotion. I need to market. I need to plan. I need to write.

Yet there’s a tiny, sick little boy at my side, asking for Mommy’s comfort. How long will those tiny hands and tinier voice reach out to me, a source of love in his world?

Oh Bash. You are the source of love today.

I left writing behind that day to nestle with Bash and Hoppy to read Care Bears, talk about school, Christmas, and any think his little six-year-old mind could think.  At one point he looked outside and saw the half-moon, pale and shy in the blue sky. “Look, Mommy, a Dream Moon!”

What kind of dreams does the Dream Moon give?

“Dreams of looooove,” he says with that sly grin of his, eyes all squinty. Then his forehead furrows. “Or nightmares. That’s why you have to go to the Apple Castle and talk to Prince Hoppy.” And so the story went, filled with candy races and carrot swords.

Most stories we read contain sacrifices a bit more grandiose than lost writing time.

~*~

We have all of us had our bloody days, Charlotte. For many it is easier to remain in them than to change. To change requires to face a past stained by screams. (4)Eight years of love went into this novel. One of the most important themes I got to explore in those eight years was that of family. Families are not always connected by bloodlines. So, so often, families are made with stronger stuff: love, respect, kindness, compassion, and…well, sacrifice. On this day of family and gratitude, I’d like you to have Fallen Princeborn: Stolen for free.

Yup. Totally free.

All I ask in return is that you leave a review on Amazon and Goodreads. Every review, and I mean EVERY review, helps a writer’s visibility in the virtual market.

Read on, share on, and write on, my friends!

JeanLee-nameLogoBoxed

#readers, #celebrate with #BestSelling #RiverVine #stories & Fallen #Princeborn: Stolen– #FREE for a #Thanksgiving #Giveaway!

As autumn closes with a celebration of gratitude, I’d like to say thank you, fellow readers and creators, for giving my stories so much love. This weekend I found that FOUR of my six Tales of the River Vine hit the top ten in free YA monster fiction ebooks on Amazon, and they’ve stayed there. 

4TRVs in Top6 20Nov18

I’m floored, humbled, and thrilled all at once. To have stories that engage so many people…it’s as beautiful as the first snowfall of the year. I can never say “Thank You” enough!

What I can do is make the Platinum Edition of Fallen Princeborn: Stolen FREE today and tomorrow, Thanksgiving Day.

We have all of us had our bloody days, Charlotte. For many it is easier to remain in them than to change. To change requires to face a past stained by screams. (4)

This particular edition contains the complete first novel, one short story from Tales of the River Vine, AND an excerpt from the second novel, Chosen. 

~A wee excerpt from Fallen Princeborn: Stolen to whet your appetite~

Arlen sits in the other armchair, opposite Charlotte, and sips his tea slowly, all the mischievous sparkle gone. When he fixes upon Charlotte again, her stomach hardens: he bears the same expression as Dad’s partner did when he came to the door ten years ago. “We are not speaking simply of fairies and folk tales. We are speaking of that about which man no longer knows anything at all. Ancient, real, and powerful.”

Dorjan’s eyes drift toward the fire as he sucks the last of the jam off his fingers.

Charlotte spins her finger to spool the air. “Whatever. Just tell me what I need to know so I can get my sister out alive.”

“That is my point, Miss Charlotte. I doubt your sister lived past dawn.”

Need a little music while you read? I got you covered! I wrote about some of the composers and soundtracks that helped me with various points of the narrative of Stolen. Do check out their work for reading, writing, living.

03a21c27d88fe0c12c6b9b291611b68eMychael Danna’s The Sweet Hereafter

Craig Armstrong’s Plunkett & Macleane 

The Who’s Quadrophenia

Peter Gabriel’s “Heroes” and “Wallflower”

Daft Punk’s Tron: Legacy

 

While I wrangle kiddos and candy sweet potatoes for Thanksgiving dinner with my family, please be sure to leave a review on Amazon and Goodreads! Every review, and I mean EVERY review, helps a writer become more visible on the virtual bookshelf.

Read on, share on, and write on, my friends!

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