Character Profiles ~ Desi

Desi is one of my favorite Crawdad characters. He's loosely based on a kid my daughter met at a Panic at the Disco concert. A little bit emo, but kind and generous with what little he has.  Desi is every kid who's ever been rejected by their parents for not being whatever it is their parents thought they should be. Desi has the misfortune of being born gay in a strict religious family. For every kid that comes out and finds acceptance, there are many more that don't. Many find themselves homeless or worse. It's an ugly truth.

~Meet Desi~

My head slammed into the door frame as I fell into my bedroom. The pain screamed in the back of my head and for a second I saw stars. I didn’t expect Louis to lash out as me and I hadn’t managed to dodge in time. Louis was my mother’s third husband. The one after she found God. Louis kept telling me to call him dad, but I never did. I could tell from the beginning he didn’t really mean it. Usually he yelled a lot, but the punch was new. I suppose he probably wanted to punch me all along. Me kissing Andrew was just the excuse he needed. Now, he stood over me quivering like a freaking psycho. He wasn’t a big guy, kinda bald. It was hard for him to get aggressive. Now that he was hyped up on adrenaline his nasty streak got real obvious.

“Are you gay, Desmond?” he shouted, his voice breathy. I hated him when he called me Desmond. I’m Desi. I have blue hair I dyed myself. I pierced my lip. I’m getting a tattoo as soon as I have the money. I am not a Desmond.

“What do you think?” I muttered as I rolled over, holding my head. I pulled myself up to my knees, but I couldn’t quite stand I was so woozy.

“Huh?” Louis demanded. “Cause if you are, you can take your shit and get out of this house. We don’t want no abomination here.”

“What?” My head was still fuzzy from that whack. It didn’t help that Louis always used the biggest words he could ‘cause he thought he was smart. At least, he wanted you to think he was.

“I said get out!” I didn’t think he could yell any louder, but he surprised me.

“You aren’t my mom.” 

“This is my house and I say you’re out. Get your shit and go!”

“What for?” I forced my head up and faced him, too angry for tears now.

“For being a faggot, that’s why.” Louis had his hands on his hips now, staring at me like he was God’s right hand man. You’d never know he’d missed church a month of Sundays. Righteous asshole.

My little sister Kitty bounced on the couch in the living room.

“Desi is a faggot…Desi is a faggot,” she teased, too young to even understand what she was saying. Mom walked in the door unnoticed by Louis, just back from work.

“Shut up!” I yelled at Kitty.

“No, you shut up!” barked Louis. “She lives here. You don’t.”

“What’s going on?” asked Mom, but the lines on her face said she was too tired to really care. Kitty climbed into her arms.

“Daddy says Desi’s a faggot,” she told Mom.

“No, he’s not,” Mom said to Kitty. “Don’t let me hear you talk like that again.”

“As a matter of fact, he is,” said Louis. “I told him to get out.”

Mom turned to me, her face a mixture of sadness and shock. I never wanted to tell my mom, but some part of me always thought she wouldn’t care, that she’d love me anyway. Your mom’s supposed to love you, no matter what, right? That’s not what my mom’s face said. Her expression said I’d crushed all her dreams to dust forever.

“Is it true, Desi?” she almost whispered, like it was too horrible to even imagine. I think my heart made a sound loud enough to hear when it cracked open just then. It’s always easier to rage so I cut loose.

You can find out more about Desi and Crawdad on AMAZON

Character Profiles - Jamil

On this Martin Luther King Day, I want to share the fictional story of Jamil  Ramos. I have always been inspired by the words of MLK, even though he died before I was born. His message was one of hope that the injustices of men would one day be replaced by equality and freedom from fear. Dr. King had a dream of a better life for those who have been oppressed just because of the way they look or where they were born. His dream is the American dream, that anyone, no matter how poor or disadvantaged, can become whatever it is they want to be. And this is the theme of Crawdad. 

Jamil, as well as all the other characters in Crawdad, have challenges in their lives, but they each do the best they can to overcome those challenges. Jamil dreams of being a professional trumpet player despite having no money and very little family support. He doesn't let it stop him.

~Meet Jamil~

I spent most of my math class, staring at my trumpet, thinking about what Mr. T said. I sat next to the window so I always put my trumpet on the window sill. It had a few dents in the horn. Mama said it was probably from too many late nights playing in the juke joints of New Orleans. She bought it in a pawn shop there before I was born. A few of those dents were from me though.

I grew up playing with it all the time, like it was some kind of weapon till I figured out you could make sounds with it. I made all kinds of awful racket with it. Mama said it sounded like dying rooster. Sometimes it got so bad, she’d take it away, but eventually I got the hang of it.

Mama would play her old vinyl records of Duke Ellington and Miles Davis till the record player broke and we had to throw it out. I’d play with those records over and over till I could make my trumpet sound the same. Lots of times I’d play by myself till Mama got home from work. My trumpet kept me company like a friend. When I played, I wasn’t lonely by myself.

By the time I was old enough to start band at school, I was hooked. I was also way past the other kids my age. I wasn’t too good at sheet music, but I could usually play what I heard. I thought everybody learned that way till I joined band.

I wanted to play trumpet for real, professionally. I always had, but now I wanted something even more. I wanted to meet my dad, Leon Ramos in Charleston. I wanted to ask him a million questions, like what he did to make Mama hate him so much. Or why did he never come around? What had he been doing all these years? The more I thought, the more questions popped into my head the way dish soap bubbles grow bigger and bigger until they fill the whole sink and spill over the side. I was filling up with questions I had no answers for and they were pushing my music out of the way.

If I was going to play well at audition, I’d have to clear out all the cobwebs out of my mind, but how? The only way I could think of was to find him.

You can find out more about Jamil and read Crawdad on AMAZON

Happy Martin Luther King Day!

Character Profiles ~ Angel

Of all the characters in Crawdad, there's nobody quite as damaged as Angel, but she's probably one of the toughest too. She's made some bad choices in her short life. Choices that have left her with nothing. She ran away from home on a whim, misled by someone she thought she could trust.  Can she ever go back?

~Meet Angel~

Mikey glared at me like he might hit me again, his eyes so dilated they were like huge black holes in his head. I got up and went to the kitchen before he could do it again. There was nothing inside him. He’d burned it out a long time ago and now he wanted to burn out my soul too.

     I hovered in the kitchen by the sink overflowing with smelly, putrid dishes because no one ever washed them. I stared out the back window at the yard filled with weeds as high as your waist and remembered the smell of fresh cut grass when my dad mowed the lawn back home. The buyer came banging on the front door. When Mikey opened the door, I slipped out the back unnoticed. I sprinted across the overgrown lawn, glad I’d put my flip flops on this morning. They weren’t great for running, but at least the rocks didn’t hurt as much as barefoot. Once I hit the alley, I was out from under the shady trees in the shabby yards.

The sunlight blinded me at first until my eyes adjusted. It had been awhile since I’d been outside much. I could feel the sun burning my pale skin, but it felt good to me, like it was burning away the crust of filth that had grown over me like moss on a sick tree. For the first time in a long time, I felt alive, maybe even happy. Maybe I could go home? I could finish school. I was still young enough to go. They had to let me in, right?

Mikey’s voice nagged my brain. You can’t do that. You’re too stupid. They don’t want you. It had become. a constant in my life. Sometimes I believed it, but I never wanted to think those things about myself. I knew I wasn’t stupid. It’s just I wasn’t sure about the other two.

I shoved Mikey’s voice out of my mind and tried to put some distance between me and his house. All I had in my pockets was a dead cell phone somebody left at the house after a night of partying and a watermelon Jolly Rancher. My tummy grumbled so I unwrapped the candy, stuck it in my mouth, and kept walking.

I got a few blocks before I saw a cop car, its lights flashing, stopped in the middle of the street. It wasn’t a busy neighborhood so it wasn’t blocking a whole bunch of traffic, but there were a few gawkers across the street. Part of me knew I should turn the corner and avoid the mess, but curiosity got the better of me, so I kept walking the way I was going. Pretty soon I could see two officers hassling this big black kid. Some cops think they gotta interrogate every person they talk to, but I couldn’t see how the kid was doing anything wrong. I supposed he could a robbed a gas station, but he didn’t act guilty. Suddenly, one of the cops went for his Taser gun.

You can find out more about Angel and Crawdad on AMAZON

Release Week Blitz: Black Bird of the Gallows by Meg Kassel with Giveaway

 

Hello Readers! Welcome to the Release Week Blitz for

Black Bird of the Gallows by Meg Kassel

presented by Entangled Teen!

Grab your copy today!

 

Congratulations Meg!

 

 

 

A simple but forgotten truth: Where harbingers of death appear, the morgues will soon be full.

Angie Dovage can tell there’s more to Reece Fernandez than just the tall, brooding athlete who has her classmates swooning, but she can’t imagine his presence signals a tragedy that will devastate her small town. When something supernatural tries to attack her, Angie is thrown into a battle between good and evil she never saw coming. Right in the center of it is Reece—and he’s not human. What's more, she knows something most don't. That the secrets her town holds could kill them all. But that’s only half as dangerous as falling in love with a harbinger of death.

Black Bird of the Gallows by Meg Kassel Publisher: Entangled Teen Publication Date: September 5, 2017

Amazon | Amazon Australia | Amazon UK | Amazon Canada | B&N | iBooks | Kobo

 

 

His soft voice clashes with the intensity of his gaze. “You’re adorable when you’re trying to be mad at me. You needn’t work so hard at it, though. We aren’t meant to be adversaries.”

“I, um…” My thoughts disband, leaving nothing for communication purposes. I’m adorable? Adorable has many definitions. I think my dog is adorable, for example. “That…wasn’t what I was going to ask you.”

He inclines his head. “Okay, then. Ask.”

But that “adorable” echoes through me, clinking around like a penny down a well. “What are we meant to be, then?”

His lips curls up at the corners. “That wasn’t your question, either.”

 

 

 

Meg Kassel is an author of paranormal and speculative books for young adults. A New Jersey native, Meg graduated from Parson's School of Design and worked as a graphic designer before becoming a writer. She now lives in Maine with her husband and daughter and is busy at work on her next novel. She is the 2016 RWA Golden Heart© winner in YA.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

 

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Character Profiles ~ Aisha

In life and in fiction, we see what someone is made of when they're under pressure. In Crawdad, all the characters are stressed by something in their lives, usually events outside of their control.

In Aisha's case, she's got a strange insight into people she's learning to understand, but can barely control. Is it voodoo? Aisha doesn't know, but it scares her and the people around her. Who is she? Is she evil? Is she crazy? Is the power real or just her imagination? And when will it go away?

~Meet Aisha from Crawdad~

“Aisha?” I could hear my grandmother calling me from the porch where she’d been shelling peas in a big, red bowl. A vibration, so faint most folks wouldn’t have noticed, had lured me off the porch and out into the woods, wet and green, steaming like a rain forest. I glanced back over my shoulder where I should have seen grandma’s house through the trees. I saw only shrubs. I could still hear her yelling though.

“Aisha, you get back here or I’m a tan your hide!” she was screaming but it sounded like she was a million miles away. She used to scare the crap out of me, but she’d threatened me too many times in my young life. I didn’t believe her anymore. Besides, I had something in me I needed to understand. No one else around me understood, so I kept walking. I wanted to see Naomi.

My head buzzed with electricity. It was just a feeling I got sometimes when I knew stuff. Once, it started on Friday at school. I knew what the answers were on Mrs. Whitnack’s quiz cause she was thinking them. I knew Paul was gonna ask me out, so I hid in the bathroom until most everyone had got on the bus or left for home. I didn’t like that boy and he couldn’t seem to get it through his thick skull. Missing the bus meant walking a long way home, but it was worth it to avoid Mr. Grabby Hands. I took a short cut through the woods, like I was now, and I was overcome by the same feeling both times. Alive with a vibration like no other. Every leaf was sharper, every sound perfectly clear in my ears, like it was right beside me. Something was coming.

I thought I knew the way, but pretty soon there was a creek I didn’t recognize and the trail turned to little more than a pattern of pine needles and dead leaves.

“What you looking for?” I heard a voice say. I looked around me. I was sure there weren’t nobody there before, but now there was a woman, old and wrinkled as the bark of a gum tree, staring at me with eyes blacker than midnight in a rainstorm. She rattled me, but I tried not to let it show. That was the first time I ever met Naomi.

“Nothing. I’m just walking home,” I said.

“Dat’s not what your heart says,” she said in a little know-it-all voice.

“My heart?”

“’Bout to beat right outta your little chest, it’s so loud. I hear it searching.” I gave her my best “you must be crazy” look, which was easy ‘cause she looked kind of crazy. Her hair was covered by a tightly wrapped purple bandana and her eyes darted around like she kept hearing things in the forest I couldn’t hear. She wore a flowered house coat and slippers, like a patient who just wandered away from the old folks’ home.

“What are you?” I asked her.

“My name is Naomi Wentworth. I got a lotta names, but that’s my favorite.”

The name sounded a little familiar, but too normal to be the person I’d heard all the stories about.

“You ain’t Mama Copperhead, are you?” I blurted out.

I always thought Mama Copperhead was a story meant to keep us out of the woods or away from snakes, but his lady made me wonder if it was true. She laughed a raspy sound.

“Maybe…maybe.”

“Well, nice meeting you, Naomi, but I gotta go,” I said, moving my feet away from her.

“But you ain’t told me what your blessed heart is looking for yet,” she said almost pleading.

I paused. What did she expect me to say?

“I know you been misunderstood a time or two,” she offered as she pulled a loop of string out of her pocket and started lacing her fingers through it to make a cat’s cradle.

“That’s the truth,” I muttered.

“So maybe you’re looking for understanding?” I squinted at her, the momentary glare of the sun through the trees blinding me. A rare breeze cooled my face for a second.

“Ain’t everybody?”

“Maybe, but that ain’t exactly what I mean, honey child.”

I never really heard nobody use that expression before, except for in a joke. Naomi made it sound like the most natural thing in the world.

“I won’t hurt you, sweet pea,” she murmured. I felt the humidity dripping down between my shoulder blades now, itching.

“I know,” I said, a little too smart mouthy. I didn’t mean to be rude, but snapping at people had gotten to be a habit with me.

“Sometimes it’s ok to ask folks to help us, especially when we can’t see the path too clearly,” she said shuffling toward me.

“I heard you was some kinda witch,” I said, backing away a few steps.

“Maybe, maybe not. All in how you look at it, I suppose. They don’t call them witches in voodoo.”

You can find Crawdad on AMAZON

Crawdad Blog Tour

Happy New Year &Welcome to the Crawdad Book Blog Tour!

For the whole month of January, my new contemporary young adult novel Crawdad, will be featured on the blogs of some of my besties - authors and book bloggers who support the readers and writers of  diverseYA - and I couldn't be more pleased. I hope you can visit them all and enter the giveaway.  Here's the schedule:

Magic of the Muses - Eileen Schuh January 1
I Read too much! January 5
Rich in Variety January 8
Beth Fehlbaum Books January 15
CJ Burright January 22
Twinjas Book Reviews January 29

~About the Book~

Seventeen-year-old Jamil Ramos grew up on Alabama’s Gulf Coast believing his mom, Loretta, was his only living relative. She put a trumpet in his hands as a toddler and sparked his love of jazz. But when Loretta drops a bomb on Jamil from her deathbed- she’s not his mama and his daddy is still alive, living in Charleston, S.C. – his world is turned upside down.

Now, with the only mama he’s ever known gone and the Loyola University trumpet audition less than a week away, Jamil has trouble feeling his music. When his band teacher tells him to get it together, Jamil decides to hitchhike to South Carolina over to find his father and get his questions answered. All he has is a name –Leon Ramos.

Jamil relies on the kindness of the strangers he meets-a gay teen kicked out of his home, a runaway prostitute, and a street musician-as he makes his way across Florida and Georgia trying to avoid the cops along the way. But when Jamil is robbed of his most prized possession, his trumpet, his plans go anywhere but where he’d hoped. That trumpet was supposed to be his ticket for a scholarship, the only way to college his mama could give him. Lost and alone without it, Jamil wonders if finding his father is worth risking his future.

You can find Crawdad in print and e-book on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Goodreads!

~About the Author~

Lisa T. Cresswell has been writing middle grade and young adult books for what seems like a mighty long time. She can never seem to make up her mind if she likes reality or fantasy, so she writes both. She also likes lemon jasmine green tea, dark chocolate almonds, and lots and lots of coffee. And of course, BOOKS. ALL THE BOOKS!! You can see all of her work at www.lisatcresswell.com 

~Enter the Giveaway~

Enter to win one of three copies of Crawdad to be given away in January!

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My next book cover reveal ~ Crawdad

I know I've been a little quiet this year, but I do have a surprise for you. I'm publishing a new novella titled Crawdad. It's a southern story, much like my first novel Hush Puppy, about a young man who goes on a cross country trek to find his dad after the woman he thought was his mom passes away.

The book is inspired a lot by what I've seen in the news over the last few years. Kids today are living in increasingly violent worlds, but many kids are not violent. They're just trying to do the best they can, you know? Full disclosure, I am a white woman of European descent, but I've always believed we are more alike than we are different and our stories are essentially the same. We are all born the same way, we grow up with hopes and dreams for our futures, and we all fall in love. We all experience pain and rejection at some point in our lives. If we're lucky, we experience great joy. As my character Recks says in my novel Vessel, "The outside doesn't matter. It's what's on the inside that counts." I truly believe that.

Crawdad is now available in print and e-book!

Book bloggers friends, if you'd like to host Crawdad during the book tour in December, sign up with 

Rich in Variety Book Tours as a host!

It's happening soon! Sign up for the cover reveal :)

I'm pretty excited about this new book of mine peeps! If you blog at all, sign up with Rich in Variety to reveal the cover on Nov. 30 or join the blog tour in December.

Crawdad is a multi-cultural, contemporary story set in the South. If  you loved Hush Puppy, I think you'll love this one too.

Here's a look at some the inspiration for Crawdad.

Sign up soon!

Just a little #SampleSunday from Crawdad~

My newest young adult novel is here! It's called Crawdad and it's a little hard to describe. It's a contemporary tale with a bit of magic. It's the story of Jamil, but it's also the story of Aisha, Angel, Desi, and Sebastian. Crawdad was inspired by my love of the diverse people and places across the South, by music, and by current, terrible events I see in the news.  I made an inspiration  Pinterest page for Crawdad if you want to see.

There's some difficult topics in the book that I haven't attempted to solve because it's not meant to be a preachy book and I obviously don't have all the answers. It's meant to be a hopeful book with an uplifting message while acknowledging some of the tough situations today's teens are up against. I hope you enjoy reading it. Here's a short sample from Jamil:




It wasn’t dark yet, but it was getting there and the mosquitoes buzzed around me pretty thick. The cicadas up high in the pines drowned out everything with their constant sawing screeching noise. I went right. I had to tell someone where I was headed. Missy wasn’t the hottest girl in our school, or even the smartest, but she was pretty darn close and she understood me. I had to hurry cause her mama was pretty strict about not letting me come over past seven on a school night.

I was on her doorstep in just a few minutes. The humidity was so high now just walking felt like going for a swim. I was glad when Missy’s mama let me into their air conditioned house.

“Is Missy here?” I asked, already knowing she was.

“She’s in her room. Why’d you bring all that stuff?” asked her mama, eyeballing my backpack.
“Um, I have a homework question I need to ask her,” I mumbled. It could happen, right? Like, would you turn in my homework while I’m gone?

 “Pfft! Homework?” It was plain she didn’t believe me.

 “Yeah.”

“OK, go on back, but keep that door open. And no trumpet! I’m watching my show.”

Some nights I’d play trumpet for Missy in her room, but I didn’t mean to tonight. I walked softly down the hall and peeked into her room. Missy was stretched out on her bed reading a book.

 “Hey,” I whispered from the doorway. She looked up from her book.

“Hey,” she said. “I missed you.”

I sat down on the bed next to her, leaving my stuff on the floor. She let go of her book and sat up to give me a hug. I’d hugged a ton of people at the funeral, but none of them affected me the way she did. I could smell the flowery soap she’s just shampooed her damp hair with. She was a warm, safe place to fall into and I held her tight.

 “You OK?” I heard her say before I let her go.

 “Yeah, I think so.”

 She pulled back and looked at me to make sure I was telling the truth.

 “Audition is next week,” I said.

Missy, more than anyone after my mama, knew what trumpet meant to me.

 “Will you be ready?” she asked.

 “Gonna try. There’s something I gotta do first, but I think I can be back in time.”

“Be back? Where are you going?”

I had to think a minute how to explain it. I hadn’t told anyone about my dad yet.

 “Before my mama died, she told me something,” I started off.

“What?”

 “You know how I always thought my daddy was dead?”

 “Yeah.”

 “Well, he’s not. He’s living in Charleston right now.”

 “You mean South Carolina?”

 “Yeah. And my mama ain’t my mama. She’s my aunt,” I added, shaking my head. I still couldn’t believe it.

 “Wow,” said Missy, thinking it over.

 “All this time my mama didn’t tell me ‘cause she didn’t want me to know.”

 “Maybe she had a good reason?”

 “Maybe, but I can’t think of any good ones. How could you keep that from somebody?”

 Missy didn’t say nothing. She just twisted her lips a little the way she always did when she was thinking about stuff.

 “It’s been driving me crazy ever since she told me. I can’t concentrate on nothing else, Missy. Not even trumpet,” I said.

 Missy stayed quiet. She wasn’t like one of those girls who would talk your ear off about nail polish and stupid stuff. Or one of those people who just loved the sound of their own voice or couldn’t stand it being quiet. I liked that about her. She really listened.

 “I’m gonna go find him,” I said, staring at my trumpet and the red and white strap she made in school colors for it.

 “What? Like on the Internet?” she asked.

 “No, in Charleston.”

 “You're going to Charleston? South Carolina?” She gave me that I-think-you-crazy look.

 “Yeah, I need to at least see him for myself,” I said.

 “But how? You don’ have a car.”

 “I’ll just hitch a ride with a trucker. Should only take a day or so to get there. I can make it back by audition.”

“Jamil, you should be practicing, not hitchhiking, especially not with some drugged up truck driver.” She was frowning now.

"It’ll be fine. I done it before. And I’ll practice on the trip,” I offered.

“Let’s try to find him on the Internet first. Lots of folks find missing family that way.”

“Something tells me he’s not on there, Missy. Besides, I need to see him in person, look him in the eye.”

“Why?” She truly didn’t understand and I didn’t know how to explain it to her.

“I just do.”

“Well then, wait until after audition. You don’t want to take the chance you’ll miss it,” she said.

“If I don’t do this now, I may as well not do to the audition. I’m not gonna be able to play any good until I get this taken care of. I know it. I just know it.”

“Now you’re just being hard headed,” said Missy, frowning.

“I guess I am, but I’m right on this. I know I am.”

Missy twisted her lips again.

“Then why’d you come here?” she asked.

“I wanted you to know where I’m going. I didn’t want you to worry about me.”

“Oh, I’ll worry all right. You got any money?”

“No, but I packed some food. I’ll get by,” I told her.

“You can’t go all the way to Charleston without no money, “she said, getting up off the bed. She crossed the room to her desk an opened a drawer. She pulled out some cash and offered it to me.

“What? I can’t take that,” I said.

“You can pay me back later. It’s only seventy-two dollars.” I shook my head no, but she wasn’t listening. “You’ll starve. Take it,” she insisted, shoving the money into my hands. “Maybe you should take my cell phone too.”

“I won’t have no way to charge it.” She frowned again, knowing I was right.

“OK, but you have to find a way to call me every day and let me know you’re okay.”

“I will,” I said, smiling. She was giving her blessing, which I think was what I might have wanted all along.

“I’m sure I can find somebody to loan me a phone,” I said, standing to stuff the cash into the pocket of my jeans.

Missy grabbed me in another urgent hug.

“Just so you know, I’m not OK with this,” she said into my chest. She might have been crying, but then, I might have been too.

“It’ll be all right,” were the words that came out of my mouth automatically. Does anyone ever believe those words when they say them? Probably not. It’s almost like a gut reaction. You have to say them.

“Get home as fast as you can,” she said.

I nodded before she pulled me into a kiss so sweet and warm I forgot all about leaving for a minute. At a time like this, her mom would usually barge in and ask what was going on, but not this time. Somehow I managed to get my head back on straight and pick up my stuff.

“I’ll be back by the nineteenth,” I said.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

That was my last night in Theodore, Alabama for a while. I stepped out into the darkness and the heat and headed toward the highway.

Unlocked by the hypnotic Margo Kelly :)

Welcome to the book tour for the soon to be released Unlocked by Margo Kelly. Margo is a master of suspense. I'm really looking forward to this one :) check it out!

Unlocked

by Margo Kelly

Genre: YA Mystery/Thriller

Release Date: October 1st 2016

Merit Press

Summary: A provocative thriller involving hypnosis, mystery, love, and friendship!

Someone has been moving the stuffed pink elephant in Hannah's room. She thinks. And ants crawl over her hands, across the steering wheel, all the time. Don't they? They're what made her crash the car on the way home from the fair, and she wouldn't have freaked out, wouldn't have caused her friend's death, for no reason. But she doesn't know if a person is messing with her, if the paranormal is messing with her--or if she's just going psychotic like her dad before her.

When her friends bail, Hannah is left floundering. Not even her boyfriend Manny believes her, and new girl Chelsea is practically replacing her at school. Only artsy outsider and self-proclaimed occult expert, Plug, agrees to help Hannah find out the truth about hypnosis and demons, and even he can't help Hannah reclaim her mind from whatever's taking over. She'll have to do that herself if she wants to save her friends, her mom and herself.

~About the Author~

Margo Kelly is a native of the Northwest and currently resides in Idaho. A veteran public speaker, Margo is now actively pursuing her love of writing. Her critically acclaimed debut, Who R U Really?, was published by Merit Press (an imprint of F+W Media) in 2014. Her second novel, Unlocked, will be published by Merit Press in October 2016. Margo welcomes opportunities to speak to youth groups, library groups, and book clubs.

Margo Kelly loves to be scared … when she’s reading a good book, watching a good movie, or suffering from the hiccups. She loves writing thrillers for young adults and hopes her stories give you the goose bumps or the itchies or the desire to rethink everyday things. Margo is represented by the not-so-scary, but totally awesome, Brianne Johnson of Writers House.

Author Links:

~From the Author~

One of the main themes of UNLOCKED is “Choose to act for yourself or be acted upon.” If you’re not making your own choices, then who is and why? Under what circumstances is it okay to give up that power and control to someone else? Which leads us into the topic of hypnosis.

When I was in college I attended my first hypnotism show.

In an auditorium along with a couple hundred other students, I watched as fifteen guys and girls went on stage and participated in the show. The audience laughed and clapped and hooted when the hypnotized students did ridiculous things such as quack like ducks or sing like rock stars. It was great. Terrific. Until the end.
While the participants were still completely hypnotized, the hypnotist turned to the audience and spouted his political views. He didn’t even try to hide what he was doing. He spoke clearly and abruptly. The people to my left and to my right sat in shock. My own mouth dropped open in disbelief. The hypnotist went so far as to tell everyone exactly how to vote in the upcoming election. I was dumbfounded. I felt like my trust had been violated, and I wasn’t even on the stage. I was not hypnotized. I was not in any sort of suggestive state. But those students in the show still were. And I bet there were plenty of others sitting in the audience who were impressionable from watching the hypnosis being performed.

That’s the exact moment when I decided I would never willingly take part in hypnosis. Sure, that was an isolated incident. Some hypnotists are trustworthy. But not all. Some do not have a very high ethical code. And because of that, to this day, I hate giving up control to anyone, under any circumstances.

I’ve never forgotten that college night, and it inspired my novel, UNLOCKED.

For more information, I’ve written an in-depth post on hypnosis here: http://www.margokelly.net/2016/04/not-all-hypnosis-is-safe.html

A Friday Reveal on Sunday~

Today Leigh Statham and Month9Books are revealing the cover for THE PERILOUS JOURNEY OF THE MUCH TOO SPONTANEOUS GIRL, book 2 in THE PERILOUS JOURNEY OF THE NOT SO INNOCUOUS GIRL Series! Which releases October 11, 2016! Check out the gorgeous cover and enter to be one of the first readers to receive an eGalley!!

Here’s a message from the author.

Why I love the cover: Hello, GOGGLES! I love how artist Christel Michiels captures Marguerite's amazing fashion sense and tech gadgets. Plus this cover, like the first, is just the right mix of danger and fun. Who doesn't love leather gear cuffs and a good tophat?

On to the reveal! 

 Title: THE PERILOUS JOURNEY OF THE MUCH TOO SPONTANEOUS GIRL (THE PERILOUS JOURNEY OF THE NOT SO INNOCUOUS GIRL #2)

Author: Leigh Statham

Pub. Date: October 11, 2016

Publisher: Month9Books

Format: Paperback & eBook

Find it: Amazon | B&N | TBD |Goodreads

Lady Marguerite Vadnay and her trusty automaton, Outil, have settled into life in New France rather well. Marguerite is top of the class at flight school and her future as an aerpilot is nearly secure. She has everything she wants— except a commission on the pirate hunting dirigible The Renegade. Using every card in her aristocratic arsenal, Marguerite wiggles her way onto the finest warship France has to offer. But as usual, Marguerite’s plans endanger the lives of those she holds dear— only this time no one else is going to save them. As Marguerite and Outil set off on a rescue mission they may not return from, she finally realizes it’s time to reorder her cogs.

This steampunk adventure is littered with facts from The Golden Age of Piracy and follows (not too closely) some of the lives and adventures of the brave men and women who sailed the seas as privateers, pirates and soldiers.

Leigh Statham was raised in the wilds of rural Idaho, but found her heart in New York City. She worked as a waitress, maid, artist, math teacher, nurse, web designer, art director, thirty-foot inflatable pig and mule wrangler before she settled down in the semi-quiet role of wife, mother and writer. She resides in North Carolina with her husband, four children, five chickens and two suspected serial killer cats. If the air is cool and the sun is just coming up over the horizon, you can find her running the streets of her small town, plotting her next novel with the sort of intensity that will one day get her hit by a car.

Where you can find Leigh:  Website |Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

Claire Daly: Reluctant Soul Saver by Michele Brouder ~ Blog Tour

Welcome to my stop on the Reluctant Soul Saver Blog Tour!

Please read on down the page to learn more about the book and the author~

~About the Book~

Claire Daly: Reluctant Soul Saver by Michele Brouder
Publication Date: September 2015
Genre: YA, Paranormal Romance


When seventeen year-old librarian wannabe Claire Daly is dragged kicking, screaming and cursing from everything she loves—her mam, her cozy Irish village and the dreamy boy next door—to take up arms in the battle of good versus evil, she learns the hard way that sometimes you don’t get to choose your own destiny, destiny chooses you.

Claire’s life plan is simple: head off to university to get her degree in library studies, summon up the courage to tell her best friend Chas that she loves him and live happily ever after. She never once entertained the idea that she might possess divine powers, that she might be predestined to battle Hell’s demons, or, to complicate matters further, that another love of many lives past might turn up on her doorstep. But life doesn’t always go as planned, and when a co-worker is viciously attacked by a demon and her own family threatened, Claire must face the truth: she is called to a higher purpose and has no choice but to answer. Claire sets aside her dreams and begins learning how to deal with the Unholy once and for all. Armed with only a crash course in soul saving and her wits, she gears up for the ultimate show down in Hell. But will it be enough?

Find Claire Daly on Goodreads~

Purchase Links:

BAM | Amazon | B&N | TBD

Don't miss the .99 Countdown Deal on Amazon from Nov. 12-19!

~About the Author~

I was born in western New York, the oldest of 5. I've loved reading since I was very little. From the age of 9, I've wanted to be a writer. In high school, I wrote a lot of angst-ridden civil war dramas ala Gone With The Wind, knowing more about the Battle of the Bull Run than a normal teenager should know. I dabbled in writing after that but didn't get serious about it until 2006, when I decided that this was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.

I've had many interesting jobs but my passion has always been writing.

I lived in Ireland from 2006-2013 with my husband and 2 boys. We moved back to the US and settled in Florida briefly (2 years) before returning back to Ireland in August 2015.

Connect with the Author:  Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads | Pinterest

Enter the giveaway!
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Giveaway Information: Contest ends December 4, 2015

· One (1) winner will received a $25 Amazon Gift Card, a copy of Claire Daly: Reluctant Soul Saver, a book mark, a coffee mug, and some other stuff for 'readers' from the author (INT)

· Three (3) winners will receive a copy of Claire Daly: Reluctant Soul Saver by Michele Brouder (INT)

~Author Guest Post~

I asked Claire to tell us a bit about what inspired her book. This is what she said:

There was so much 'superhero' fiction out there- Harry Potter, Percy Jackson series, Skulduggery Pleasant to name a few. I suppose I was reading all of these books because of my son, who wouldn't have particularly been drawn to a girl (yuck) series. I started thinking about how I wanted to read about a girl with her own set of superpowers and I wanted her to be Irish (after all, it is where I live, it was my way of saying thank you to my adopted homeland). I wanted to read something along those lines.

· the main theme of good vs. evil on all levels, the battle within ourselves to do what is right even if it means sacrificing something that is important to us and of course the ongoing of good vs. evil on a much bigger scale

· faith - how faith can grow where there is none and how it can shine in a very dark hour

· loyalty - to the people we love: family & friends

· how you can make a connection with some people and it makes you feel like you've known them since before forever

· how humor can be it's own weapon: to protect yourself and to disarm other people

That Spooky Time of Year~

Of all the holidays, I think Halloween is my very favorite. I love the magical, fantastical element of it. I love ghost stories, spooky Gothic tales, and even the odd paranormal romance here and there. It's no surprise the first book I wrote begins in October, just before Halloween. I think I might have started writing it at that time of year too. Fall is an inspiring time to me. It's a time of change - the leaves on the trees change color, the nights grow cooler, and the sky becomes gloomy, foreshadowing the shorter days to come. The long winter's night is coming.

I thought I'd take this opportunity to share some of my favorite spooky books with you. I'm not crazy about horror, but I do love me some creepy suspense. If you need any reading recommendations this Halloween, pull up a chair.

One of my all time favorites is Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte. If you aren't familiar with it, it's the story of a young woman who's hired as a governess and goes to live and work in an old mansion called Thornfield. Thornfield is creepy. Her boss, Mr. Rochester, is creepy. His secret in the attic is even creepier, but Jane is absolutely fearless. She's a fabulous character.

I recently read Who R U Really? by Margo Kelly about a girl who faces an Internet stalker. It gave me the creeps so bad I almost had to put it down. Stalkers are a special kind of awful. Yikes!

Another book I've read within the last year is Fingers in the Mist by O'dell Hutchison about a girl who goes to live with her dad and finds herself in a creepsville cult. Thanks a lot, Dad!! You could have warned her. Geesh!

Another author who seems to have a special brand of creepy is Neil Gaiman. Try The Graveyard Book about a boy raised by ghosts in a cemetery. It's a beautiful little story. That and The Ocean at the End of the Lane have a wonderful, fantastical element I love reading. Not terrifying, but weird, scary, and even touching in a fun way. Gaiman is simply enchanting.

For a creature feature, I recommend The Golem and the Jinni by Helene Wecker. These aren't your usual vampire/werewolf type monsters and they aren't out to kill everyone, but they are supernatural beings in trouble. I bet you never read a book about either, have you? Put two star-crossed, supernatural creatures together in turn of the century New York City, and what's not to like? It's a unique tale with a wonderful historical flavor.

So there's a few options for your spooky reading enjoyment. Grab a warm, fuzzy throw blanket, your favorite hot beverage, a great book, and enjoy your Halloween!

Spooky Story for Halloween~

In celebration of the upcoming All Hallow's Eve, I thought I'd share an excerpt from my newest paranormal novella The Color of Water. Set on the North Carolina coast, it's the story of Samantha who loses her dad at sea and finds herself trying to protect her mom from a supernatural beast most everyone else believes is a real human. Enjoy~



~from Chapter 8~



On the sidewalk in front of us, a man leaned on an iron fence, half hidden in a bougainvillea vine. I smelled him before I could really see him, a weird mix of pipe smoke and alcohol and something salty like seaweed. The silky voice told me who it was before he leaned forward into the light of a nearby house.

“Pardon me, miss. Didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said, reaching out two nut brown hands to Karla. As Teach caught her hands in his own, I saw a tattoo on his forearm in the moonlight – a blue demon stabbing a heart across his rippling muscle. He gently steadied Karla, ignoring me.

“It’s fine,” Karla said. “I should watch where I’m going.”

Teach stood there, holding onto Karla’s hands, staring deep into her eyes like a lover. No one was allowed to look at my mom like that, not while I was standing there.

“Do you mind taking your paws off my mother?” I said, forgetting any warning Matt might have given me.

“I’m only trying to help,” he said, releasing her finally. “Perhaps I can make it up to you?”

“No really, its fine,” insisted Karla, trying to move past him. He caught her by the shoulders, holding her close to him.

“Can I see you again?” he begged in an urgent whisper.

“Let her go, you creep!” I yelled.

“A little something to remember me by,” he purred in her ear, a chunky gold bracelet emerging from his jacket pocket draped across his thick fingers. I was sure it was the exact same bracelet I pitched in the ocean weeks ago. He moved to lay it over her wrist. Without thinking, I snatched it away.

“Run Karla!” I yelled as I pushed my mom’s shoulder. She took off toward home as Teach turned his eyes to me. Even in the dim moonlight, I could see his crazy eyes, aqua blue like some stormy Caribbean Sea.

“Give it back, Samantha,” he said like a parent to a naughty child, patient but annoyed.

“How do you know my name?” I stalled.

“I know many things about you. I know you foolishly meddle in things you know nothing about, for instance,” he said, moving toward me, his eyes locked on mine. His words stung me.

“What is this thing?” I said, holding up the chain. If it wasn’t Louise’s bracelet, it was just like it. “Do you give it all the women you plan to kill?”

Teach laughed, a low chuckle, still coming toward me as I backed away, stumbling over the cracked sidewalk into the street.

“You might say that,” he admitted. “But I don’t give it to anyone who doesn’t welcome it.”

“Who welcomes death?”

“You’re young. I wouldn’t expect you to understand. Now give it to me,” his tone growing more insistent. I held the bracelet behind my back.

“Not until you promise to leave my mother alone,” I said, my voice quivering like a leaf in the wind. The energy radiating off Teach now burned my skin, like standing too close to an open fire.

“I don’t make bargains with little girls. What’s mine is mine,” he snarled, his skin tightening over his skull and then evaporating to reveal the bones underneath. His blue eyes burned like coals in the darkness, inhuman and unnatural. The heat felt like it would scorch my eyebrows off. I fell as he swung at me, screaming.

Happy Halloween!!