Sunday, May 12, 2013

Cover Reveal: Land of the Unaltered

I'm happy to join Leti Del Mar in the cover reveal of her new dystopian romance novel, Land of the Unaltered, the first installment of the Unaltered trilogy, on sale June 18. Ta da....




About the book:

Rose comes from the capital of the Confederation of Cities where its citizens live in luxury and the greatest fashion statement of all is being Altered. People change everything about the way they look as often as they do their hairstyle, but Rose is different. Her position of privilege has made her an outcast and led her to suspect that something sinister is happening to the citizens and flees the capital along with a past that imprisons her in search of a fresh start in the Land of the Unaltered.

Flynn lives in the Land of the Unaltered and hates the capitol and everything it stands for. So when a spoiled capital girl is assigned to work with him, he wants nothing to do with her and is prepared to make her life miserable. But Flynn was not prepared for someone like Rose. She doesn’t fit the mold he expected and finds himself strongly attracted to her. As she continues to surprise and outwit him, they begin to forge a bond that is tested when they discover a secret that could change everything they know about Land of the Unaltered. 


Click on the Goodreads link to add Land of the Unaltered to your "To Read" list.

Find our more about Leti Del Mar on her website.
Also by Leti: The Inadvertent Thief


Find Leti on:
Facebook | Twitter

Saturday, May 11, 2013

Featured Author: Steve Marantz

I'm very happy to welcome Steve Marantz to A Blue Million Books today. Steve is the author of the non-fiction book Next Up At Fenway, just recently published by Inkwater Press.

About the book:

"Through the story of Marcos Baez and Fenway High, Steve Marantz shows the humanity and prospects of Latino student in our nation’s public schools. Next Up at Fenway gives us a window into how social forces and education policy decisions are playing out in real people’s lives -- for better and worse -- within America’s fastest growing demographic. This book is both Americana and a reality check for the 21st century.” - Sonia Chang-Diaz, Massachusetts state senator and former teacher.

Interview with Steve Marantz:

Steve, you've been a reporter, and now you're a researcher at ESPN. How long have you been writing, and how did you start?

For about 40 years now. I got a journalism degree from the University of Missouri and worked as a newspaper reporter. About ten years ago I switched to television, with ESPN, and continued my writing with books. Next Up at Fenway is my third.

Tell us about Next Up At Fenway.

Next Up tells the true story of Marcos Baez, whose public high school next to Fenway Park was his best hope for a college education and a better life. Baez, the son of a single mother of Puerto Rican descent, personifies the struggle and determination of America's fastest-growing demographic.

Recognized as one of two Boston high schools "where Latinos succeed" by the Mauricio Gaston Institute of the University of Massachusetts-Boston, Fenway High teaches critical thinking and community involvement in a familial environment. Through its innovative curriculum and Latino-sensitive culture, the school helps Latino students succeed academically and in personal development.

Inspired by this educational model, his teachers, and the Red Sox Foundation’s Lindos SueƱos program that sent him to the Dominican Republic for training and community service, Baez works toward his goal of college.

Few adults want to go back to high school, yet you did, in a manner of speaking, for two years. What was the experience like?


Fun - to be around so much youthful energy. Encouraging - to see how hard these kids worked. Humbling - to see how far education has come since my high school days. My high school, Omaha Central, was considered top-notch in its day, but it offered little of the innovation I saw at Fenway.

What was the toughest aspect of writing Next Up At Fenway?

Focusing the story. There were so many directions I could have taken it, so many strong characters, so many themes. I had to pick, and narrow it down. I’m a firm believer that a story that tries to do too much ends up doing too little.

How did you come up with the title Next Up At Fenway?

It seemed to fit, since the story is about upward mobility. Just under 70 percent of Fenway’s students live at or below the poverty line.

For what age group is this book intended?

High school-aged readers on up.

Tell us about your "day job."

I am a researcher for the ESPN E:60 show. It is a news magazine show with long-form storytelling, human interest and investigative stories. My job is to support the producers in whatever their needs are. It enables me to work at home four days a week, which frees me up to work on books in my spare time.

How would you describe your book in a tweet? (140 characters or less.)

Quick read. Fun. Provocative. Inspirational. Where America is heading - we hope.

Why did you decide to write this book?

I live in the Boston area - it was accessible to me. It was original - nobody had done it. It was relevant - education and Latino culture are on America’s front burner. It was fun - a high school next to Fenway Park. How cool is that?

Very cool. What do you hope others will get from reading Next Up At Fenway?

Pleasure. Hope and inspiration. Empathy. And maybe some ideas to apply to public schools everywhere and anywhere.

Do you outline or write by the seat of your pants?

Outline.  A narrative needs to follow a few effective principles.

Tell us about your favorite scene in the book.

I love the image of Marcos at the ‘Lindos Suenos’ camp in the Domincan Republic, indignant at the behavior of his fellow American non-Latino teenagers, and provoked enough to write the opening lines in his college application essay.

What song would you pick to go with your book?

Marc Anthony’s “Ahora Quien.”



Who are your favorite authors?


Tom Wolfe, Frank Rich, Larry McMurtry, James M. Cain, Raymond Chandler, J.R.R. Tolkien, Jane Mayer, Elizabeth Kolbert, Malcolm Gladwell.

Which author would you most like to invite to dinner, and what would you fix him?

Tolkien. I would fix him whatever he wanted. And ask him what the heck he was smoking.

What book are you currently reading and in what format (e-book/paperback/hardcover)?

We're with Nobody: Two Insiders Reveal the Dark Side of American Politics
by
Alan Huffman and Michael Rejebian. Paperback.


Do you have a routine for writing? Do you work better at night, in the afternoon, or in the morning?

Morning. Before my brain is fried.

You’re given the day off, and you can do anything but write. What would you do?

Golf. 36 holes if possible.

Where’s home for you?

Swampscott, Ma. It’s got Vinnan Square and Red Rock Bistro. Just about everything a person needs.

What’s one of your favorite quotes?


“I am not afraid of death, I just don't want to be there when it happens.” - Woody Allen

“Sex without love is a meaningless experience, but as far as meaningless experiences go its pretty damn good.” - Woody Allen

Okay, that's two, but they're both good, so I'll let it slide. What three books have you
read recently and would recommend?

Stieg Larsson’s the Millennium trilogy. Tremendous. Made me want to see Sweden. 

If you could take a trip anywhere in the world, where would you go? (Don’t worry about the money. A publisher is paying. )

Omaha would be cool. But I’m happy in Swampscott. Everything is here.

Omaha? Seriously? What are you working on now?

A vegetable and cheese omelet.

Always a wise guy. Thanks for being here, Steve!


More books by Steve Marantz:



About the author:    

Steve Marantz is a researcher/producer for the ESPN E:60 show and a former reporter in government, politics and sports for the Boston Globe and Boston Herald.  His last book, The Rhythm Boys of Omaha Central: High School Basketball at the ’68 Racial Divide, won the ForeWord Reviews gold medal for non-fiction sports, and the Nebraska Center for the Book award for non-fiction history.  He also authored Sorcery at Caesars: Sugar Ray’s Marvelous Fight.  Marantz lives in Swampscott, Mass., with his wife, Alison Arnett, and their dog, Arthur.

Connect with Steve:
Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Publisher |

Buy the book:

Amazon | Barnes & Noble |

Friday, May 10, 2013

Featured Author: Elizabeth Jennings

The Button Collector is Elizabeth Jennings just-released novel, published by PageSpring Publishing’s Cup of Tea Books imprint. PageSpring is offering an introductory discount of 45 percent on the paperback edition only (US markets) through May 24.


About the book:

On a gray day at a gritty flea market, Caroline Tilghman stumbles upon an unlikely treasure—-jars and jars of buttons in a dazzling kaleidoscope of colors.

Caroline is reminded of something she has made herself forget-—she too has a jar of buttons, an inheritance from her mother, which she has put on the back of a shelf. Out of sight. Out of mind. Out of her life.

That night, Caroline takes the jar down from the shelf. Intending only to look at the buttons, she opens the lid . . . and pours out her family's secrets.

The Button Collector unfolds with a series of vignettes in which each button reveals a piece of the bittersweet history of Caroline's family. A tragic accident forever alters the relationship between Caroline, her mother Emma, and her cousin Gail. Caroline sifts through the joys and anguishes of the past, bringing both herself and the reader to the realization that memories—-like buttons—-can sometimes be used to fasten together something we have left undone by mistake.

Interview with Elizabeth Jennings

Welcome, Elizabeth. How did you come up with the title The Button Collector?

I’ve gone through many titles for my book, which is based on stories connected to a family’s button collection. The original was The Button Bag because in my family we kept buttons in an old cloth bag. Next was Circles of Color, a phrase from the opening. Much later I decided to emphasize the story collection aspect and changed the title to The Button Collection. When I got a contract with PageSpring Publishing, my editor wanted me to try The Button Jar because it’s a stronger visual image. Finally, the publisher suggested The Button Collector so that readers would be able to connect with a specific character and real-life button collectors would be able to find it easily. By this point, the book was much more of a novel than a collection, so I think it’s perfect.

Do you have another job outside of writing? 

I am a professional dabbler. Besides writing fiction, I have worked as a newspaper features writer and advertising copy writer, and I’ve done all sorts of free-lance work.  I’ve also worked as a tutor, adjunct instructor for a community college, director of a literacy council, university press intern, and the advisor for the creative arts journal at a girls’ middle school. I never know what I’ll be doing next, but I’m thinking about teaching a continuing education class on blogging. I’ve enjoyed the blogging aspect of being an author. I get to write whatever I want. It’s like opium for a writer.

That's a good analogy. How would you describe your book in a tweet?

A jar of old buttons...A collection of memories...A linking of tales....

How did you create the plot for this book? 

Plot is my weakness so it was a long, painful process in some ways, but now I can say that I’m happy with how it turned out, so I believe that this was simply how my book was meant to evolve. The Button Collector is a novel in stories, similar to How to Make an American Quilt by Whitney Otto or Susan Vreeland’s Girl in Hyacinth Blue.  At first the stories were quite episodic, but the characters began to introduce recurring plot elements on their own, especially the narrator, Caroline. It is her process of reconciliation that forms the basis of the overarching plot, but originally most of this happened in the final section. My editor suggested a revision that would pull elements from this final section and spread them throughout the book, making it clearly a novel rather than a story collection. I’d received other suggestions over the years—-such as limiting the points of view—-but this idea immediately struck me as the right one and it was surprisingly easy to do.    

Did you have any say in your cover art? What do you think of it? Tell us about the artist.

I didn’t have a say in the cover art, but that didn’t stop me from shooting off some panicky emails when my imagination went into overdrive about any number of cheesy possibilities! Fortunately, I love the cover art by Britanee Sickles, and it’s actually very close to what I had in my mind. The buttons spilling out of the jar have a mysterious quality and the colors are like jewels. The thing that is somewhat unique about my book is that in addition to the cover art, a pen and ink drawing prefaces each story. Sarah Allgire was the wonderful artist for these. The drawings offer a nice visual hook and give the book a little multimedia flavor.  

Tell us a book you’re an evangelist for. 

I stumbled across a book called The Hero’s Walk by Anita Rau Badami, which tells the story of a Canadian orphan who goes to live with her grandparents in India. The exotic appeal of the Indian segments drew me in—-my book has a touch of India in it, too—-but the plot is also perfectly done in terms of building up suspense. I think the reason it touched me so deeply was because the characters exhibit a deep and genuine tenderness as they struggle to make connections with each other. I wish more people would read it!    

Have you ever bought any books just for the cover? Did you enjoy the book(s)?

I love book covers, and they are indeed factors when I choose a book, but not usually the deciding factor. There is one book, however, that I definitely bought because of the combination of the cover and the title-—The Earth Hums in B Flat by Mari Strachan, a Welsh author.  I ADORE that title and the cover is this wonderful, mystical drawing of a girl floating upward. I’ve since seen the UK cover and it is even more gorgeous—it shows a luminous orb held by a girl’s hands with her body blocked from view.  Fortunately, the book entirely lived up to its perfect packaging.  I love it. 

What do you do to market your book? 

The most unusual thing I’ve done to market my book is an interactive reader feature on my blog called "Flash Fiction, Button Style."  It invites readers to email a picture of a button, and I write a flash fiction piece telling the button’s story. It’s been fun! I limit it to 250 words in one hour so that I don’t go off the deep end with it. People ask me how I come up with the ideas for the stories, and I have to laugh. Coming up with ideas is one thing I never have trouble doing—-implementing ideas is another story, which is why limiting the scope works so well.    I’ve also jumped into online marketing and I’ve found it almost as enjoyable as writing the book. 

I have a website, blog, book trailer on YouTube, Twitter account, Facebook page, Goodreads, LibraryThing, etc. I’ve enjoyed getting to know other bloggers, writers, and reviewers who’ve agreed to read my book. I’ve also had good luck getting endorsements from authors I admire—-Ann B. Ross, who writes the Miss Julia series of Southern humor books, Amy Willoughby--Burle, who is a North Carolina short story writer, and Susan Vreeland, who wrote Girl in Hyacinth Blue, The Passion of Artemisia and other best sellers. I was over the moon when Vreeland did a blurb for me because her work has a kinship with my own, or at least with what I’m striving to achieve. 

Do you have imaginary friends? When do they talk to you? Do they tell you what to write or do you poke them with a Q-tip?

Do you mean there are people who don’t have imaginary friends? I not only have imaginary friends, I have imaginary families, clans, and villages. Sometimes I wonder if I should be concerned that they are so real. I’m usually the one who approaches them, and while they don’t tell me what to write, I’ve found that usually they have some wisdom to offer if I stop and try to figure out what it is. 

Which character did you most enjoy writing?

In The Button Collector, Caroline’s husband, Rishi, made a late appearance in the writing process, but I immediately liked him. By that point, Caroline’s identity of thwarting traditional Southern expectations was firmly established, so it made sense that she would go outside her culture if and when she married. Rishi is from India, with a Hindu upbringing, so he serves as a contrast to Caroline’s WASP family. It was fun to put a twist on the scenario and have Rishi quickly fit in with the clan, which forced Caroline to re-examine some assumptions she had made about her family and herself. Plus, Rishi is easy-going, good looking, and makes homemade chicken tikka masala. Who wouldn’t like Rishi?

What are your favorite books?

a) As a child
my favorite was The Witch of Blackbird Pond--even then I was attracted to multi-cultural perspectives, especially when they collided. The interface between the Puritans and the free-spirited girl from the Caribbean fascinated me.
 
b) As a teenager I was a serious Lord of the Rings fangirl. I’m talking posters, calendars, ephemera, multiple re-readings--the whole nine yards. I believe the fantasy genre enables people to examine their own human hopes and fears and dreams from a different angle even as it offers an expansive retreat from the ordinary. To this day, I have a weakness for fantasy and happily claim the title of nerd. 

c) As an adult, Anne Tyler’s Saint Maybe is my all-time favorite, which kind of goes against the whole fantasy inclination, but somehow both are true. The character of Ian and the dilemmas he faced were so heartbreakingly human and true. Tyler’s work is also the type of fiction I usually write—-quiet, introspective, character-driven.

Tell us one weird thing, one nice thing, and one fact about where you live. 
Most of the squirrels in my backyard are white and they bully the gray squirrels. We are surrounded by waterfalls and public forests. The Eastern Continental Divide passes through our county. 

Is there anything in particular that you do to help the writing flow? Music? Acting out the scene? Long showers?

I’m a firm believer in the idea that the more you write, the easier it is to experience flow—-that almost magical immersion in your work during which you’re calmly focused and time flies. Little rituals can be helpful in getting to that place, but really the only secret for me is to write almost every day. When you do this, your mind—-both the conscious and subconscious parts-—will continue working on the story even when you’re not writing. Before long a character will tell you something or you’ll envision a scene in your head or a sequence or connection will pop up like an idea balloon, and you’ll have to sneak back to the keyboard and get it down. 


Watch The Button Collector book trailer:





About the author: 

Elizabeth Jennings has worked as a features writer, copywriter, tutor, and adjunct instructor, but first and foremost, she is a reader on the hunt for the next great story. Her short fiction has appeared in a variety of publications, including Prime Number Magazine, Apalachee Review, and the children’s magazine Ladybug. A native of Clemson, South Carolina, she earned degrees in English from The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and The University of Delaware. She lives with her family within view of Mount Pisgah in the ancient and lush Blue Ridge Mountains. 

As both author and reader, Jennings has a deep affinity for quiet, character-driven stories and novels. She also has a fondness for frame tales and interconnected stories in which the individual pieces offer commentary on each other and come together to create a mosaic of various textures and moods. Since college, she has been fascinated with different forms of female creativity and the ways it has been expressed historically. The Button Collector is her first novel and is based on the idea that the smallest things around us can have meaning and offer perspective on the larger story that is our life.

Connect with Elizabeth:

Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Publisher

Buy the book!
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | kobo


 

Thursday, May 9, 2013

Featured Author: Lori Verni-Fogarsi

Lori Verni-Fogarsi is on tour with CLP Blog Tours, and she's stopping by A Blue Million Books to tell us about her newest book, Unexpecting. Don't miss an excerpt from the book and the giveaway after the interview. Everyone who leaves a comment on Lori’s tour page will be entered to win a $20 Amazon gift card! Anyone who purchases their copy of Unexpecting before May 13 and sends their receipt to Samantha (at) ChickLitPlus (dot) com, will get five bonus entries.




About the book:

Shelley and David are a couple of almost-empty-nesters whose kids are just about all off to college. They've just ordered white furniture and are planning the vacation they've waited their entire lives to take.

Their lives are catapulted in a completely different direction when Alexandra, seventeen and pregnant, shows up at their door and announces that she’s the daughter they never knew they had!

Shelley feels like she no longer fits in anywhere and to top it off, having two teenaged girls suddenly plunged into being sisters and school mates is not exactly warm and fuzzy. When Alexandra's behavior becomes erratic, the couple is faced with even tougher decisions to make.


Interview with Lori Verni-Fogarsi


Lori, Unexpecting isn't your first book. How long have you been writing, and how did you start?

Unexpecting is my third book. I’ve also written the novel, Momnesia, which has won two awards, and Everything You Need to Know About House Training Puppies and Adult Dogs, which continues to be one of the most highly recommended in its genre since 2005.

My writing career started in an unusual way: with my Best Paw Forward newsletter, back in 1995 when I owned a dog training school! I was surprised when I began receiving writing requests from other magazines and newspapers, and things just sort of took off from there!

Do you have another job outside of writing?

In addition to being an author, I also offer small business consulting on a case-by-case basis. I build websites, design branding, establish social media connections, and coordinate both in person and online events for small businesses. I occasionally teach seminars at colleges or large conferences on Creative Marketing Outside the Box.

Is that all? You slacker! What is your writing process? Do you outline, write by the seat of your pants, or let your characters tell you what to write?

I come up with the idea for the story, then just write it. I don’t worry about formatting or editing at first. Often, the story takes turns that are different than what I’d anticipated. Then, after the whole book is finished, I create an outline of what I’ve already done, and search for things that need to be removed, expanded upon, reorganized, etc.

Sophie’s choice: Do you have a favorite of your characters?

I’m really very fond of Tiny, the dog in Unexpecting. I just love the way he’s a big, snuggly goofball! He even has his own page: www.LoriTheAuthor.com/Tiny.

What a great idea. I'll have to tell Ezzie about that. What would your main character say about you?

“Holy crap! That biatch is even more Type A than I am!”
  
LOL. I like writing characters who do and say things I never would, as well as characters who do and say things I wish I could. Do you have characters who fit into one of those categories?

Goodness! That question sounds like how I would answer an interview question! In both Momnesia and Unexpecting, the main character explores and voices emotions that many people feel, but barely dare think about in the privacy of their own minds, never mind speak out loud!

Tell us about your favorite scene in the book.

I absolutely love the scene where Claire shows up at the house to talk privately with Shelley. It was very difficult to write, but I love the way it came out, and I love Claire’s philosophy on how she handled the very difficult time in her marriage.

Where’s home for you?

I was born and raised in New York City, and I now divide my time between Raleigh, NC, and Lake Gaston, VA.
 
Do you ever get writer’s block?

Yes, for sure. And when I do, instead of panicking I just work on editing, preparing marketing materials, or something else. I find that if I just set it aside, the story will start flowing again another day and time soon.

What’s one of your favorite quotes?

“If you choose not do decide, you still have made a choice.” ~Getty Lee, from the band, Rush. (Also quoted throughout Momnesia.)

What three books have you read recently and would recommend?

So glad you asked! I’ve recently read several books of the variety that you feel compelled to run around telling people about!

Scent of Triumph, by Jan Moran.
Is This All There Is, by Patricia Mann.
The Wisdom of Hair, by Kim Boykin.

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

Lisbon, Portugal. It’s a beautiful, clean, and historic city with friendly people and great public transportation. It’s also close to Cascais, which has some of the most beautiful beaches in the world, as well as Sintra, which is steeped with history and beautiful castles. Plus, the wine and food are great, and the nightclubs never close!

Thank you so much for hosting me on your blog! I hope you readers have enjoyed getting to know me, and I hope to get to know them too, perhaps through comments or in other ways!

Thank you, Lori, for being here. Come back anytime!

Excerpt from Unexpecting

Chapter 1

It all started on a Tuesday morning. Shelley stood in her kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee and marveling that there was any left in the pot. The house was completely silent; no one else was home and during the busy summer season, that felt like a near miracle.

With three college-aged kids home for their break and a fourth living at home full-time, she and David would often joke that the kids and their friends were like a mathematical phenomenon: They seemed to multiply faster than amoebae, resulting in somewhere around nine teenagers at any given time. Sleeping, running around in bathing suits, asking for a ride, and eating, eating, eating...ceaselessly eating.

So when the doorbell rang, Shelley didn’t run to answer it. The UPS man, whose job brought him to their door with astonishing regularity, would ring it whenever he left a package on the porch. And since she wasn’t expecting anyone, she saw no need to go to the door in her PJs and reveal to the young-ish, good-looking courier that she was still in a state of undress even though it was after ten o’clock.

Then it rang a second time, which meant that either it was a package she had to sign for, or a neighbor stopping by for some as-yet-unknown favor to ask. Sighing, she set down her mug, still her favorite despite the chip on its rim because it said, I’m 30...it seems like I should have money by now. It had been modified with a Sharpie on its ten-year anniversary to read, I’m 40, and when she’d reached forty-five she decided not to bother updating it anymore; it was still funny.

As she approached the door she could see through its glass oval that there was a woman standing on the porch. Bracing herself to deal with whatever solicitation it might possibly be, Shelley opened the door and discovered that it wasn’t a woman at all. It was a girl-woman. And not just any older girl/younger woman, but one that was hugely pregnant, her glistening face pocked full of acne, and bright blue eyes so watery they reminded her that she’d been meaning to water the hanging flower baskets on the porch.

“Yes?”

“Is this the Morsony household?”

Shelley knew immediately that this was not someone intimately acquainted with the family: She had pronounced Morsony the way most people would, more-sewn-ee, when in fact her husband’s unusual ancestors had decided to pronounce it more-sunny.

“Yes it is. Can I help you?”

“I need to talk to David Morsony.”

“He’s not here at the moment. May I help you with something?”

The girl blinked. Her first tear fell and she fidgeted with her blonde ponytail. Shelley noticed that her hand was trembling and watched with horror as the girl’s lips began to quiver in a fashion that she knew could be a precursor to the bawling, snot-bubbling drama she was very familiar with, having raised two girls of her own.

Averting her eyes, Shelley glanced toward the driveway, noticing that there was a Ford Focus that looked as if its only opportunity to move would be via a tow truck. It was blue, with a dented front fender and two different colors of duct tape hanging off one of the headlights. The windows were open and at first glance it appeared that someone was sitting in the passenger seat. Then she realized that it was a dog; one of those gigantic brindle dogs that made her think of that 1980s movie starring Tom Hanks.

The girl was sniffling and wiping under her eyes while Shelley thought longingly—and selfishly—about her coffee, abandoned on the counter inside. She didn’t mean to seem uncaring, it was just that after raising four kids through their teen years, including all the ups and downs with friends, boyfriends, girlfriends and so on, the sight of a crying teenager on the porch seemed like yet another daily drama rather than an actual event.
At the same time, there was a niggling sense of foreboding lurking in the back of her mind. Shelley noted that she didn’t appear to be selling anything, yet she had asked for her husband, David. Strange.

Slapping at yet another mosquito and beginning to perspire, Shelley looked at the girl, waiting for her to say something. Neither the bugs nor the heat ever let up during North Carolina summers and they were both out in full-force that morning. The girl leaned up against one of the porch columns, causing Shelley to realize that since she was so uncomfortable, the pregnant young lady must be about ready to collapse.

Mentally relinquishing any hope of enjoying her quiet morning, Shelley gestured toward the rocking chairs and asked if the girl would like to sit down. But either she didn’t notice the gesture or chose to ignore it because she said, “That would be amazing,” and stepped toward the entry.

Quickly deciding that she didn’t meet the qualifications for a dangerous intruder, Shelley held the door open and the girl squeezed past with her big, tight belly leading the way. Walking straight ahead into the kitchen the way all visitors do, she sat at the counter where Shelley’s stool was already pulled out from her earlier attempt at solitude.

“Would you like some iced tea?”

“Sweet tea? That would be great!” Disproportionately appreciative, Shelley hoped she realized that this was no home-steeped, prepared-in-the-sun-all-day sweet tea. It was Crystal Light, the former New Yorker’s halfhearted attempt at Southern hospitality.

Accepting the glass and a napkin, the girl immediately started mopping the sweat that had beaded up on her forehead.

“So, can I ask why you’re wanting to speak to my husband?”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess so. So, you’re David’s wife?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

A dawning sensation swept over Shelley, bringing pinpricks to her formerly relaxed body as it occurred to her that this girl was not only similar to her own seventeen and nineteen-year-old girls, but she was also not that much younger than her twenty-two and twenty-four-year-old stepsons. And she was pregnant. Very pregnant. Her internal rosary beads started twisting as she understood that they could be in for some seriously bad news. How many times have I talked to those boys about safe sex? The anger welled up inside her even though she had no information yet. I’ll kill them!

The girl fidgeted with her napkin, twisting it into a pointy little cone, then tapping its end with her fingertip. “You’re probably going to be surprised,” she said, her eyes turned downward.

“I may not be as surprised as you think,” Shelley replied, looking pointedly at her stomach.



About the author:

Lori Verni-Fogarsi has been an author, speaker, and small business consultant since 1995. She has been featured in media including “Lifetime Women’s Network,” the “My Carolina Today Show,” and “Boston Globe Forums Live.”

Her public speaking has occurred at many prestigious venues including North Carolina State
University, Nassau Community College, and many more.

She has received two awards for her novel,
Momnesia, and her nonfiction, Everything You Need to Know About House Training Puppies and Adult Dogs, continues to be one of the most highly recommended in its genre since 2005.

Lori is a happy married mom of two, step mom of two more, and has two cats, both rotten. Originally a native New Yorker, she now divides her time between Raleigh, NC, and Lake Gaston, VA.

She is very excited about the release of Unexpecting, and looks forward to her book tour, interviews, launch parties, and other festivities!




Website/Blog | Facebook | Goodreads | Twitter | Pinterest | Publisher | Amazon




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Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Featured Author: E.M. Tippetts

I'm happy to welcome E.M. Tippetts, another sister in crime, to A Blue Million Books. You're in for a triple treat today, as she's here with an excerpt from her novel, Nobody's Damsel, and also for a chat, and a guest post.


About the book:

Chloe has just completed her masters degree in forensic science and taken her first job in a crime lab, where she is stalked by the paparazzi. Not because of who she is, but because of whom she's married to: Jason Vanderholt, the hottest actor in Hollywood. When her first case is an abduction of a child, she has to cope with her memories of being a crime victim herself at a young age, while thousands of her husband's screaming fans cheer for her marriage to fail and spread rumors he's hooked up with his latest costar. Jason and Chloe must balance their celebrity marriage with two demanding careers in order to keep the happily ever after they promised each other at their wedding. The odds are entirely against them.

Interview with E.M. Tippetts:

Emily, how did you come up with the title Nobody's Damsel?

Nobody’s Damsel is the sequel to Someone Else’s Fairytale (though you don’t need to read Book 1 to understand Book 2). I wanted to keep with the fairytale theme, but also convey that my main character finds happily ever after a hard sell.

Each of my titles has a hidden meaning too. Someone Else’s Fairytale is about the fairytale of someone in the cast, and while Nobody’s Damsel can convey that my main character doesn’t need to be rescued by a handsome prince, the true meaning of the title is conveyed towards the end of the book.

How did you create the plot for this book?
 

Someone Else’s Fairytale is a romance, and thus doesn’t lend itself to sequels. I’d have to either put the main couple through real turmoil (which would get old after a few books), or, as many other authors do, use an ensemble cast and have each one step up in turn to fall in love. Since this pairing of a forensic scientist and a Hollywood actor is the main draw to the series, that’s not a feasible solution.

So I had to craft a plot that would enable me to expand this franchise into a series, and that’s why Damsel uses the bones of a police procedural for its plot structure. Criminal cases are the sort of thing that repeat over and over with infinite variations. Later books will also use Jason’s job, making films and television. This way we can all spend more time with Chloe and Jason and have a reason for being there, in their world, following another story.

That's great. I love sequels. How do you come up with your cover art? Are you happy with it?

I hired a cover designer for Fairytale, initially, and intended to use her for all my books, but when I showed her my own mock up version of a cover for Fairytale, she told me I simply had to use it. Since I’m not a designer (I know how to use Photoshop because I’m a digital scrapbooker), I had to show the cover to a lot of people and get a lot of positive feedback before I decided to use it. I then designed the cover of Nobody’s Damsel so that it would look similar.

All the rest of my covers, I use a designer for. It’s important to know what you don’t know, and I don’t know cover design. I merely got lucky when I created a book cover that people loved. I don’t have the skills to do it again on purpose.

As for what I think of the cover, I sort of cringe every time I see it and hope against hope that I’m the only one. The cover artist, I have to say, is a dorky writer who eats far too much chocolate, but will insist that such a thing isn’t possible.

Sounds like my kind of girl! Names. Sometimes it's so hard to come up with just the right one. How do you name your characters?

Baby name websites! That and using Google for last names – I type in the name and see if I get hits. If I get none, it’s clearly a very stupid idea for a name. If any living human ever had it, they erased all evidence of the fact.

I also make sure that each character’s name starts with a different first letter unless I want the reader to associate two characters with each other. Married couple minor characters may both have the same first initial, for example.

Are any of your characters inspired by real people?

There are a lot of personal touches in my books. While the main characters have bits and pieces of real people in them, I always switch it up so that the character isn’t based on any one person.

But there are minor characters and objects taken straight from reality. Boots, the cat owned by Chloe’s in-laws was a real cat who passed away not long before the book went to press. I was talking to his owner who was very upset, so I offered to put him in the book so he could live on.

The car that Kyra, one of the minor characters, drives is a real car previously owned by my best friend (and the dedicatee of Someone Else’s Fairytale). She had to sell that car and again, I offered to immortalize it in the book so that she didn’t have to really say goodbye.

And then there are a lot of in-jokes between me and my best friend about where events are located, but I can’t reveal them without giving away information about my friend, who isn’t a public figure and deserves her privacy.

With which of your characters would you most like to be stuck on a deserted island?

None of them! After what I put them through? Are you kidding? They’d torture me, no doubt. Though I always go for a happy ending, the road to the ride off into the sunset is always a rough one.

How do you handle criticism of your work?

There are two kinds of criticism I face, criticism from other writers and criticism from fans. For writerly criticism I draw on my experience at the Clarion West Writer’s Workshop, which uses the following critique style:

- The whole group (there were 17 of us) reads your story
- We all meet together and each person gets 3 minutes to critique your story and say what’s wrong with it
- At the end, you may ask for clarification of points and say thank you. You cannot argue.

This, I think is the only way to deal with criticism. Allow it to happen, take it on board when it makes sense to you, and never, ever argue. After I attended Clarion West, I joined a writers group that used the same critique style and met with them once a month for ten years, so I’m quite used to this form of criticism.

Criticism from fans is more new to me, but here I have a different approach. I don’t believe bad reviews exist, really. There are two kinds of reviews, ones from your target audience and ones from outside your target audience, which will always sound negative. There’s little point arguing with or stressing over what these people say. Rather, you let their reviews help deter other people like them from picking up your book.

That's a good philosophy. What about routines? Do you have one for writing? Do you work better at night, in the afternoon, or in the morning?

I don’t have the luxury of a routine, and I think that makes me lucky. In order to write at all, I need to be able to write anywhere, with any space of time I can find. I do a lot of writing on the couch while my boys play with Legos on the floor, and a lot of writing while sitting on my bed after dinner, but I can also write while on travel, while stuck in a train station, while my children play at the park. Maybe someday, when my kids are older, I’ll have routines, but right now I can’t afford them.

You are quite prolific. Do you ever get writer’s block? What do you do when it happens?

Writer’s block, for me, is a symptom that something in the story isn’t working, so that’s when I get analytical. I’ll draw out the plot in my mind, examine the characters, and look at the sequence of scenes. I appreciate writer’s block because it makes the book better in the end, even if it’s not fun to endure. If I can’t diagnose the problem, I’ll use my husband as a sounding board, and if this fails, I seek help from other writers and listen to their diagnoses.

Having said that, I don’t produce perfect novels, so a lot of imperfections do not cause writer’s block for me. It’s the big issues that derail the plot or damage character chemistry that pull me up short. I actually hope to get more and more writer’s block as I go on, because I’d take that to mean I’m even more aware of all the ways my writing is lacking.

What do you like to do when you’re not writing?

I love to listen to music and watch movies and television. I don’t own a television or radio and rarely go to the movies, so these are all a treat for me. This just shows how much time I spend on writing. It’s a full time job on top of being a stay-at-home mother (which is also a full time job). People are often amazed at how many hours a week I spend writing, plotting, breaking scenes, and editing, but I don’t see why it should be surprising. If you want to do good work, you’ve got to put in the hours. Most jobs don’t require 40+ hours a week because bosses are mean. To get things done requires a real time investment.

I agree. You live in London. If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

With my family. I plan to enjoy every moment I can of my children growing up because these are days that will never come again. Wherever they are is where I want to be, and once they’re grown, I look forward to having it be just my husband and I again. He’s been my best friend for over a decade and has always supported my writing. I in turn support him by moving wherever we need to for his job. Anywhere can be home, as long as it’s with the people I love.

You are so right about enjoying every moment. Though I enjoy both my sons as a grown up and an almost grown up, those early days are precious ones. What are you working on now besides raising your children?

I am working on the sequel to my YA book, Castles on the Sand. This sequel is new adult, rather than YA, and the challenge is that the viewpoint character has schizophrenia. My experience with how mental illness is portrayed in the arts isn’t positive. Too often the mentally ill person is caricature, dangerous or evil, or the subject of comedy. This story is about one man trying to hold it together and get over the girlfriend he dumped years ago, if only she’d stop hanging around. It’s hard to love your best friend when you feel thoroughly unlovable.

Wow. Sounds great. Puleeease come back and tell us about it when it's out.

More books by E.M. Tippetts:



Excerpt from Nobody's Damsel:

When I hauled the glass door of the convenience store open, the first thing I saw was the current issue of Entertainment Weekly with a picture of Jason and Gigi Malone on the cover. Gigi had her blue eyes wide and innocent and bit her lip for effect. She wore a business suit, while Jason stood behind her in a gray t-shirt that stretched over the contours of his biceps. His blue eyes were slightly narrowed and gazed out with smoldering intensity. His dark hair was longer than he wore it now, and with one hand he’d reached around Gigi and was unbuttoning the top button of her blouse. A swirling tattoo snaked up his arm. They’d added the tattoo digitally when someone at the studio decided it would give him greater sex appeal.

Even in a picture, his gaze brought me up short. I looked back at the white car and saw another vehicle pull into the station and park next to it. Two cars at this place at this hour? I ducked inside, only to see what was on the rest of the magazine rack.

Photo after photo of my scowling face burned into my retinas. “Trouble in Paradise?” said one headline. “Jason Vanderholt’s Leading Lady No More!” “Yes, Jason, You Can Do Better!” “How Did She Ever Turn Jason V.’s Head?” “Still Working the Backup Plan?” That last one was under a picture of me wearing my backpack, on my way home from classes.

It was official: according to the media, Jason and I were through.

The door chimed behind me and I made myself walk. A picture of me reading the headlines would just be too perfect, so I ducked down an aisle devoted to a hundred different flavors of beef jerky and headed for the glass fronted refrigerator in the back while I tried to collect my thoughts. I had to get home and get ready for work in a couple of hours. Calling someone seemed like an overreaction. This was my life now. I was famous by association, and I couldn’t hide from that forever. What I needed to do was just walk out, head back to the house, and ignore that stupid car.

But a glance out of the corner of my eye let me know that the person who’d followed me in was a burly, sullen looking man who stood just inside the door, his arms folded across his chest. He didn’t seem like a photographer, and I wished he did. That carriage and the way he looked the room over screamed out that he was casing the store. The last thing I needed right now was to be caught up in a holdup. When I looked over at the person working the register, I saw it was a young woman, likely not even out of her teens. She read a magazine, completely oblivious to the threatening figure in the doorway.

In a play for time, I grabbed a bottle of water, its smooth plastic cool against the palm of my hand, and headed up to the counter, only to remember that I didn’t have my wallet on me, just a credit card, and on that credit card was my married name, Chloe Vanderholt. People seemed to think it was an odd decision for me to take Jason’s last name (and yes, he used his real name for his career), but my maiden name, Winters, belonged to my absent, married-to-another-woman father and the half brother who once tried to kill me. Much as I hated the harassment that came with being a Vanderholt, I was happy to be a Vanderholt. I just wished I had a secret identity I could whip out in a situation like this.

I glanced back and saw the guy was on his way over to join me at the counter. With my thumb, I turned my engagement ring around so that the seven carat stone rested against my palm. It was a stupid thing to wear on a run, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave it at my sister-in-law’s house. It was worth nearly as much as said house.

The guy was right behind me, now, out of my line of sight. I fumbled my credit card out onto the counter and the girl picked it up, swiped it, glanced at the back, then froze. Her hazel eyes registered shock as she looked up at me.

I took a deep breath. I could handle this.

“Are you related?”

“To?” I played dumb.

“Jason Vanderholt.” She said it like I must be a total idiot not to know his name. I wondered if she were from out of town because it was well known around Albuquerque that the Vanderholts were local. Jason visited all the time. That was how he and I were able to have a relationship while I was an undergrad at the University of New Mexico.

“Vanderholt’s my husband’s name.”

“So are you related to him by marriage?”

I shrugged as if I didn’t know or much care. “Maybe.” I scrawled my signature on the receipt and slid it across the counter.
The man behind me shifted his weight and cleared his throat. I sensed, before I saw, him start to sidle around me and I backed away from the counter, turned, and made a break for outside.

“Chloe,” he said.

I skidded to a stop and my hands hit the glass of the door, hard.

The girl behind the counter screamed.

The guy began to laugh and readjusted his baseball cap, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Jason," I said, "what are you doing here?”


Guest post by E.M. Tippetts

Writers: Otters vs. Seals

I was at a writers convention in Albuquerque when one of the panelists (on a panel I’ve long since forgotten the name of) explained the difference between otters and seals. Seals, she claimed, were easy to train. The did a trick, you gave them a reward, and they knew they’d get the reward every time they did a trick. Otters, on the other hand, were hard to train. When they do a trick and get a reward, they immediately do a different trick, believing that they need to continue to impress if they want to keep getting rewards. Readers, this author claimed, liked seals. Writers tend to be otters.

Now, I don’t claim to know anything about training otters or seals, but the author had a point. How often do we see what looks like the same book written and rewritten sailing up the bestseller lists? How many authors can we think of who seem to always have the same story out with different names and maybe a different setting? And how many of us authors would rather drive nails through our toes than repeat the stories we’ve already told? How often do we look at a new book as an opportunity to try something new and grow artistically? And does this really mean that the only people who can sell a lot of books are the ones with no real range? I don’t claim to have definitive answers here, but I do have thoughts.

My first thought is that telling the same story and delivering the same feel aren’t equal. Readers want the same feeling they got from your last book, and telling the same story might achieve this or it might not. Rather than just retell the same story, I think we as writers should dig deeper into what it was about the story that the readers liked. Was it the strong main character? Then keep your main characters strong. Was it the dreamy love interest? Then keep going the dreamy route. We can deliver a comparable experience without just rehashing old material. Whenever we do something new, we shouldn’t take a flying leap into the abyss of the unknown, but rather take a few tried and true building blocks for a starting point.

My second thought is that readers aren’t really clueless about re-reading the same stories. They don’t particularly like it either, but if they’re going to spend good money on a book, they tend to be conservative. If you seem like you’ve gone off and done something weird, they won’t buy. It’s one thing to stretch yourself creatively, and quite another to never learn anything from what you write. Writers who are scattershot and have wildly different sales rates for their books aren’t learning what works. It’s too cynical to say that readers aren’t adventurous. They, like the rest of us, have limited time and money, and most read for pleasure. They won’t pick up an odd looking or sounding book anymore than they’d plan a holiday in a place they know absolutely nothing about.

My third thought is that this comes down to branding, as everything seems to these days. It’s not about doing the same tricks, it’s about getting across a coherent look and feel to your writing. Can we convey to the reader what sort of stories we like to tell? Is it warm and fuzzy happy ending romance or blisteringly suspenseful mystery or laid back and hilarious women’s fiction? I’m going to assert that if we can get our branding right, we writers will have more, not less freedom in what we write. Someone who picks up a book of ours with a certain expectation and has that expectation satisfied will pick up another book and another. They won’t mind that we switched up the plot or used a very different main character provided we didn’t muck with our brand. If our books are warm and fuzzy, they don’t have to all be set in the same place. If they’re suspenseful, there’s little point in always having the same crime. If they’re funny, we need to know if it’s our style writing or our character that gets the laughs and keep whichever it is.

As you can probably guess, I’ve been working hard on my brand, and not because I’m turning into a seal. I’ll always be an otter, but I want people to be able to tell me apart from all the other otters out there. That, I think, is the crux of the issue. We as writers need to be memorable by choosing what impression we want to make, and then making that impression consistently. Having said that, I’m not sure I accomplish this at all! But I hope I understand the theory, at the very least.



About the author:

Emily Mah Tippetts writes romance as E.M. Tippetts and science fiction and fantasy as Emily Mah. She is a former attorney with degrees in philosophy, politics and economics from Oxford University and business law from UCLA.

Originally from New Mexico, she now lives in London with her family. When she isn't chasing her small children or writing, she designs jewelry.

For more information or to sign up for updates on future book releases, visit: 
Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon




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Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Featured Book: The Judas Kiss

Today Tess Tremaine talks with homicide detective Benjamin Elijah Stanford, from Angella Graff's urban fantasy, The Judas Kiss. And keep scrolling and reading--you'll find an excerpt from the book and a chance to enter a giveaway.




About the book:

Judas’ Kiss haunts him 2 millenia into his unending existence. Torn between petty gods and their hunger for power, a faithless police officer slips further into machinations that have already cost the life of someone he loved. Mark’s story finally begins to unfold in the newest volume of Angella Graff’s well received series: The Judas Curse.

Just as Detective Ben Stanford is ready to put the past at rest, he’s pulled down once again into the chaos of gods, theology, and mystery. Told that his sister is alive and the two immortals, Mark and Judas, have been kidnapped by the treacherous goddess, Nike, Ben must find a way to rescue the pair before she can harness their powers.

While Mark waits alone, forced to write out the story of how their powers came to be, and Judas lay tortured by the angry Goddess, a reluctant Ben must enlist the help of an unwilling being from the ancient Norse Pantheon.
Time is ticking, and the hard-headed detective must use everything he learned in the past to prevent another disaster, which could potentially wipe-out the human race.

About the character:

Benjamin Stanford is a homicide detective for the San Francisco PD. Growing up with an alcoholic mother, Ben took care and raised his younger sister, Abigail. A hard-nosed Atheist, Ben will do anything to rationalize what he sees, and has no problem taking even his most loved ones to task when he feels he doesn’t have any other choice.

Tess Talks to Benjamin:

Ben, how did you first meet Angella?

As far as I know, she dreamed me up out of nowhere. Originally I was supposed to be some beer-guzzling frat-bro, and the twin brother of Abby, best friends with Judas and Mark.  Apparently her book took a really bizarre turn somewhere and here I am. Thanks a lot for that, by the way.

Want to dish about her?

God yes, please. What a sadist. I’m not even kidding. She’s written me with this hideous backstory, the kid who had to be the parent to his own mother and baby sister? Then killing everyone and just sort of knocking me around until I don’t know up from down.  She’s not my favorite person, let me tell you. And she’s extremely unfocused. 9uipl[mnk  I don’t know what she thinks she’s doing, trying to write a detective, but it’s a load of crap.  That’s all I’m saying.

That's just crazy. I'm so sorry for you. My author, Amy Metz is very nice. She let me meet a handsome man and fall in love. Sorry. I don't mean to rub it in. Although...she did put me through some pretty scary times. Hmmm...sorry, this isn't about me, is it? Did you ever think that your life would end up being in a book?

Absolutely not. What a joke. Of course when things started getting crazy and Greek gods started popping out of the freaking walls, I guess it just makes sense, doesn’t it?

Well, when you put it that way, yes...But Angella must have given you some nice parts in the book. Tell us about your favorite scene.

Any scene where I’m not being pummeled, physically or mentally. I was pretty impressed with reading Mark’s back story, and I had no idea how much he really went through. It changed my perspective on a lot of things.

I'm guessing you had a hard time convincing Angella to write particular scenes for you. What do you wish she would have written into the story?

As much as I begged for some time off, she just wouldn’t relent. All I wanted was a little time to heal, but she only gave me a short while.

That's just awful. What do you like to do you get a few minutes away from Angella?

I love to watch TV. Old 1970’s action flicks are some of my favorites. The more guns and bigger the explosions, the better. 

Oh, you men and your guns and explosions. If you could rewrite anything in your book, what would it be?

Well I’d probably keep my sister alive, to tell the truth. Actually all of it, just re-write all of it and leave me alone, you sadist!

Well, we certainly get how you feel about Angella. What do you think of your fellow characters? Tell the truth, now.

Oh, I have no problems telling the truth. Mark is a smarmy ass. He’s cocky and weird, and I can’t make heads nor tales of that guy. Jude, that guy is just a hot mess. He doesn’t make sense when he talks, he stares off into space, I just...I try and steer clear of that guy. Stella, well I love her, I really do, and that’s saying a lot for me because I do not love easily. She’s smart and strong, and she doesn’t take crap from anyone, and that’s important in a woman. As for the others, I could take them or leave them.

Do have any secret aspirations that Angella doesn’t know about?

I feel like I shouldn’t say here, she does not need that much control!

Understood. If you had a free day with no responsibilities and your only mission was to enjoy yourself, what would you do?

I would probably drink. A lot. Drink, sleep, eat something really bad for me, watch TV until my eyes burn, and absolutely refuse to answer any calls.



What are you most afraid of?

All of this being real. Obviously these gods or whatever, they’re something, but the thought of them being right, I think, is the scariest thing in the world to me.

What aspect of Angella’s writing style do you like best?

She has a great grip on dialogue, and when she works hard, her descriptive scenes are pretty awesome. I think she’d do a great job writing a historical novel, maybe about Mark, let me rest in peace for a while.

If your story were a movie, who would play you?

I’m sure Angella would pick one of her snarky British actors she’s so in love with, but I think I’d like to see a real down to earth guy tackle my role. Maybe Mark Ruffalo?

Will you encourage Angella to write a sequel?

Please no. No. Get a new hobby. How about just kill us all and just be done with it!

Darlin', you really need to come to Goose Pimple Junction. You are way too stressed. 


Excerpt from The Judas Kiss

I had one chance, and that was to beg Yosef to take me in. When my grandfather couldn’t find me, he’d eventually leave Alexandria and I would be free. I couldn’t live in the Senate and debate with those horrible old men about things I didn’t know or didn’t care about. I wanted to be free to learn everything, to take my place in my life with the people I chose, and I couldn’t have it any other way. Any other way, and I would die.

It wasn’t long before my grandfather retired for the night; he was very old and when he slept, he didn’t hear me creep out the front door and hurry down the street. It was late, the moon was shining full overhead, and I navigated my way through the streets with ease.
I knew the house of Yosef would be asleep, but I was counting on Yosef to be working fierce into the deep, early morning hours. I could hear the rough scraping sounds as he rubbed down wood as I turned the corner. Bypassing the front door, I crept to the side and around to the back where he was.

He was working by moonlight, the full moon providing him with exactly what he needed, and as I stepped up to the table, he startled. “What are you doing here?” he hissed when he realized it was me. “Makabi, do you realize how late it is?”

“My mother died,” I said miserably, and for the first time since she’d gone, I cried. I was just a small boy right in that moment, letting my sack slide down my leg and I crumpled to the ground.

Yosef came around the table and picked me up, holding me tight as I sobbed, feeling her loss, grieving for the loss of her life, and the loss of the future that I had so desperately wanted. “Hush now,” he said, rocking me slightly.

It only took a few moments for the sobs to subside and I wiped at my face with a dirty palm. “My grandfather wants me to go to Rome.”

“I see,” he said slowly.

“I don’t want to go,” I continued. “I want you to take me in. Please.”

“I can’t,” he said, letting his hand rest on my shoulder. “You’re young and I know you are happy here, but you’re a Roman citizen, Makabi. I can’t take you in.”

“I’m just a kid,” I cried, and then fell again into sobs so fierce that as Yosef sat there and rubbed my back, I fell asleep.

I woke the next morning lying on the floor next to Yehuda. Although the twins were mirror images of each other, I’d learned to recognize the subtle differences between them. Yeshua also carried a light but etched scar on his right temple, the product of an accident when he was very young.

I scrubbed at my face, yawning and blinking against the sun’s first rays pouring in through the open door. As I stirred, Yehuda did as well, and he looked as surprised to see me as I was to find myself on their floor.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

“I um,” I said and looked around. My bag was lying in the corner of the room neatly, and I’d been tucked in by a rather rough covering made from material I didn’t recognize. “My mother died,” I finally said.

Yehuda’s face fell. “I’m sorry.”

“My grandfather wants me to go to Rome. I came to beg your father to take me in.”

This obviously worried Yehuda, and he crossed his arms as he stood up, stretching his back just a little. “Keeping you from your grandfather could put my parents in danger,” he warned.

“I’ll hide. They’ll never know, and if they find me, I’ll take the blame,” I begged.

“We’ll let you stay here, but if anyone comes looking for you, I’m afraid we’re going to have to turn you over,” came the soft voice of Maryam from the doorway.

My eyes widened as I looked at her, and fought the urge to rush and hug her. My mother was gone now, and Maryam had always been so kind. “Thank you,” I whispered, trying my best not to cry.

“You boys need to eat,” she said, nudging the sleeping form of her younger son Yaakov. The twins’ smaller sisters were already awake, playing loudly outside as Yosef helped prepare a breakfast of dried fish and bread.

I offered them coins to help pay for food, but Yosef and Maryam refused to take money from me, claiming that they had no need of coins from a boy when they could feed me just fine. I didn’t argue, and simply followed the routine of the home, getting straight to work as I had done before my mother fell so ill.

The hard labor of etching and carving, polishing and hammering took my mind off of my dead mother, and my possible fate if my grandfather found me and took me to Rome. As the day passed, every footfall I assumed was that of a Roman soldier coming to take me away from this family and force me back to a place I didn’t want to be. But every footfall turned out to be nothing, and by the time the sun set and we sat around preparing to sleep, I felt more and more at ease that maybe the old man had forgotten me.

The truth was, until I was nearly a man, I thought my grandfather had just never bothered to look very hard. It was only when I was viewing some scrolls from Rome that I found out the old man had died that night, and no one had bothered to look for the young child that escaped the house. The servants had been reassigned, the house sold, and my name had been forgotten. My father never inquired about me, and my brothers had gone on to train and die in the service of the Caesar.

I’d been with the family of Yosef for almost half a year when it happened. It was the middle of the night, and we were sleeping soundly until I woke at the sounds of hushed, frantic voices.

“You think they mean to come for him?” came the fierce whisper of Maryam. She and Yosef were in another room, but through the silence of the night, their voices carried.

“I can only suspect yes,” Yosef replied in the same hushed manner.

Yehuda, who lay beside me, shifted, and in the dark, I could just make out one of his eyes open. “What’s going on?” he whispered almost inaudibly.

“I don’t know,” I hissed back. “I think your parents are arguing.”

We both rolled over onto our stomachs to listen. Our whispers had caused us to miss some of the conversation, but my stomach sank when I heard, “We have no other choice but to go.” That was Yosef, and he sounded absolute. “We need to leave now, Maryam, if we want to make it before they can reach the city and find where we’ve gone. They found him as an infant, they’ll find him again.”

“They must be talking about the men from the East coming for your brother,” I whispered.
The noise of footsteps caused Yehuda and I to throw ourselves back down and we both quickly tried to even our breaths, pretending to be asleep. Sounds of shuffling items filled the room, and after a few minutes, we were shaken awake.

“What’s going on?” Yehuda asked, attempting to sound like he’d been fast asleep.

“I have no time to explain. I need you to get your brothers up, and we need to pack the home,” Yosef said, not bothering to cover his voice much. “We have to leave.”

“Where are we going?” Yeshua asked, now awake and attentive.

“Back home. To Galilee,” Yosef said, his voice heavy and deep with regret.

I wasn’t sure what that meant for me as I sat there while the sons of Yosef began to scramble to put their most valuable things in sacks. After a few moments, Yosef fixed me with a firm eye. “Are you not intending to help, Makabi?”

“I wasn’t sure...” I said, trailing off. “What does this mean for me?”

“You asked me to take you in as one of my own, and I’ve done so. If we leave, you will come with us. Now get to work,” he snapped, but the edge was absent from his voice.

Flooded with pride and relief, I jumped up and began to grab and pack everything that Yosef pointed to. I wasn’t sure how we were going to carry it all, or how we were going to get to Galilee from Alexandria, but I was ready to go. Armed with packs of items from the home, and my small meager belongings, we started out on the road.



About the author:

Angella Graff was born and raised in the desert city of Tucson, Arizona. She married and became a mother very young, and after getting started with her family, began her University studies where she found her passion for creative writing, history and theology.
She now resides in Tucson with her husband Joshua, three children, Christian, Isabella, and Adia, and their three cats, Archive (Ivy), Lasciel, and Fix. She prefers to spend her days writing, gardening, and reading non-fiction theology theory books. Angella is also an avid, if not fanatic fan of Doctor Who and BBC Sherlock, which tend to dominate her dry, sarcastic humor, a lot of which is apparent in her writing.

Currently Angella is working on an Urban Fantasy series called The Judas Curse, involving extensive research into Mythos, Christianity and history. The first book of The Judas Curse, The Awakening, was released November 2012.

To learn more about the author, visit the Author Showcase and In A Nutshell Interview.


Connect with Angella:
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Buy the book:
Amazon  | Createspace


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