Wednesday, July 3, 2019

Welcome to the WATCH "RWISA" WRITE Showcase Tour! #RRBC #RWISA



Today is my day on the WATCH "RWISA" WRITE Showcase Tour. I've written a short story flashback set in the universe of my Hexborn Chronicles epic fantasy series. I do hope you will enjoy it!

“Mirror, Mirror”by A.M. Manay

Set in the world of The Hexborn Chronicles

Shiloh stood in her teacher’s doorway, pulling anxiously on the end of a pink braid that had snuck out of her hood. Brother Edmun was in high dudgeon, ranting about insults and ingrates. A wooden crate sat upon the table, straw peeking through the slats. She could feel magic pouring out of it like waves of heat. It didn’t feel like dark magic, not exactly. But it didn’t feel like good magic, either.
“Master?” she ventured. “Would you like me to make your breakfast?” She didn’t bother to ask about the box. She knew that he would tell her if he wanted her to know, and in his own good time, not before.
Edmun looked at her as though she’d appeared out of thin air. He waved her off. “Don’t bother, poppet. I couldn’t eat.”
Shiloh’s eyes strayed to the crate, but she said nothing.
“Go finish your essay from yesterday,” Edmun barked.
Shiloh took her seat at her little desk. Her back now to the table, she could hear Brother Edmun unpacking the mysterious arrival. It was all she could do to resist the urge to peek when she heard the sound of a hammer. Edmun muttered under his breath, a constant patter of unintelligible complaints. At least, she heard him pull out a chair and collapse into the seat. She looked over her page one more time, searching for mistakes, before standing to present her work to her teacher.
He looked down at the offering in her little hand, her words marching neatly across the page. He took up his pen in one hand and her paper in the other. The glower slowly disappeared from his face as he read, leaving behind only weariness and a hint of satisfaction. At last, he nodded, putting down his pen unused, and Shiloh exhaled in relief.
“Well done. A princess at the Academy could not have done better at twice your age.”
“Thank you, master,” she said. Her smile lit up her eyes, which then strayed over Edmun’s shoulder to a mirror now hanging on the wall. The ornate frame looked out of place in the mountain cabin, all gilded leaves and lacquered flowers.
“Don’t look in it more than you can help it,” Edmun ordered, and she turned her gaze back to her teacher’s face.
“Yes, master,” she replied. “May I know why not?”
Edmun hesitated.
“I can feel that it’s magic, master.”
He snorted. “I’m sure you can.” She waited, hoping he would be more forthcoming but knowing well enough not to press him.
Edmun heaved a sigh. “A man can give you a gift out of love, to please you. Or he can send it as an insult, to remind you of errors and caution you against repeating them. This mirror is the latter.”
“What does it do?” she asked.
“That is none of your concern,” he replied. “And that is all I will tell you. Go get a wand from the cabinet.”
Shiloh’s face lit up. “We’re using wands today?”
Edmun looked at her from beneath his eyebrows. “Is there another reason I’d ask you to get one? Now, do it quickly, before I think better of it.”

***

The following evening, Shiloh picked up a clean rag and set about the dusting. Edmun was busy in the temple, preparing for the upcoming Feast of the Father. As soon as she was done in the house, she was to join him there. The red cabinet took most of her attention, as usual. The many books, wands, and magical curiosities inside had to be carefully wiped and replaced in their accustomed positions. It was tedious work, but she was pleased that Edmun trusted her with the task.
Her work on the cabinet finally completed, she turned to dust the mirror and gasped. The silver surface had turned to black. A face appeared, and not her own. Shiloh took a step backward.
A man cocked his head to the side, a slow smile spreading across his face. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but Shiloh did not wait to hear the words. She ran, her head scarf flying behind her all the way to the temple doors. She threw them open.
“What?” Edmun demanded, looking up from the altar.
“The mirror,” she panted. “It turned black, and there was a man.”
Edmun crossed the floor and took her by the shoulders. “What did he see? What did you say?”
“Nothing! I ran as soon as I saw him. I was only finishing up the dusting. Who was he?”
Edmun ran a hand over his mouth and chin and took a deep breath. “The most dangerous man in the kingdom. Silas Hatch.”
“The Hatchet?” Shiloh shivered. “The king’s spymaster? Why would he appear in your mirror?”
“Who do you think sent it? Hatch likely meant to speak with me, to threaten me. The king hates and fears me for reasons you well know.” His brows drew inward. “He gave you a right scare, didn’t he, poppet?” 
Shiloh nodded. Edmun knelt to look her in the eye. “Now, if I were a kind man, I’d tell you that you need not fear him. But I’m not, so I’ll tell you the truth. You should be terrified of him. If you ever give him reason to believe you are disloyal to the crown, he will slit your throat with his own hands.”
“Why would I ever be disloyal to the crown?”
Edmun placed a hand on her head. “Good girl. Now, put that man out of your mind and help me ready the temple for tomorrow.”
Shiloh nodded, yet the ice of fear in her stomach remained.
As did the look of worry on her beloved teacher’s face. 

***

Shiloh sat on her bed in the loft above her father’s smithy. Upon her blanket lay an array of charms she’d just made, for protection against all manner of hexes or ill-wishing.
The look upon the mirror man’s face had chilled her to the bone—something about the smile. It had been predatory. Proprietary. Wary. It had given her the distinct impression that the man’s interest lay not only in her master but in herself as well. I will not leave my teacher unprotected.
She pinned one charm on the linen beneath her tunic. The others she gathered into an old handkerchief. She tied it tight and placed the bundle in her pocket along with a jar of paste.
She knew Edmun would already be in the temple performing his ablutions for the feast day. She let herself into his house and crossed warily to the mirror. She exhaled with relief to find it clad in its ordinary silver. 
Carefully, she lifted the mirror off of its nail and turned it face down upon the table. She held the pot of glue in the crook of her elbow and pried it open, then affixed seven charms to the back of the Hatchet’s “gift” to her master, one for each of the Lords of Heaven. She returned the mirror to its proper place and hurried to the temple before Edmun could scold her for tardiness.

***

At dusk, Edmun sat his tired bones into his favorite chair and looked balefully at the mirror. Given the visitation to Shiloh the night before, Edmun expected to see Silas Hatch’s face, yet as the pink light of sunset faded, the man did not appear.
“Perhaps tomorrow,” Edmun murmured. “I had hoped to get it over with.” He looked up at the mirror and realized that it was just slightly askew. He stood and removed it from the wall. Turning it over, he found Shiloh’s handiwork.
Edmun smiled and shook his head. “My sweet, clever poppet. Too clever by half.” Sighing, he plucked the charms from the backing and set the mirror on the table, leaning against a water pitcher. Silas appeared in moments.
“Master Edmun, I feared you had forgotten the terms of our arrangement. There was to be no meddling with the mirror.”
Edmun swallowed heavily. “It was a momentary lapse,” he lied. “I thought better of it.”
Silas grinned. “You don’t have lapses. It was the girl, wasn’t it?”
Edmun said nothing.
Silas laughed. “It was. Ha! And what is she, only eight years old?”
Still, Edmun said nothing.
“She must love you as much as I did,” Hatch mused.
“What do you want?”
“Are you really teaching her mirror magic this young?” Hatch asked, brow raised.
Edmun closed his eyes and sighed. “Of course not. Evidently, I didn’t teach you your own well enough, as she defeated you with a handful of charms and some paste.”
The young man’s ears flushed. “Well, then,” he managed, “I shall have to redouble my efforts.”
“You do that. And Silas?”
“Yes?”
Edmun leaned in. “The next time you frighten that girl, it had best be after I’m cold in the ground.”

Thank you for supporting this member along the WATCH "RWISA" WRITE Showcase Tour today!  We ask that if you have enjoyed this member's writing, please visit their Author Page on the RWISA site, where you can find more of their writing, along with their contact and social media links, if they've turned you into a fan.

We ask that you also check out their books in the RWISA or RRBC catalogs.  Thanks, again for your support and we hope that you will follow each member along this amazing tour of talent!  Don't forget to click the link below to learn more about this author:

Tuesday, July 2, 2019

Welcome to the WATCH "RWISA" WRITE Showcase Tour! #RRBC #RWISA


I'm so pleased today to be hosting author D.L. Finn. Today, she is spring with us four brand new poems. Enjoy!
ICICLES 
The icicles dangle downward
Reaching for the substantial snow
Each drop bringing them closer
As the landscape merges into itself
It is silent in its existence
Until a raven reveals itself
Wondering what’s in the trash 
Yet, the moment remains peaceful
Sitting and surveying in the chill
An instant promising potential
When there is no celerity
When crackling fires call
When surroundings are concealed
Soon, the renewal will be revealed
But now it’s the stage of contemplation.
For sustenance
For solace
For soul
To live on our abundance of the past
This is the gift of the snow
When we can replenish our hearts
In the silence of the icicles.

FREEDOM (Musings from the back of a Harley)
The freedom of the blue skies
Welcome us warmly back
Our path is asphalt
Our vehicle a mechanical horse
Our guide is the wind
Lush green walls soar
The sun illuminates the way
Oaks are waking up after a long nap
And I…
I fill my soul
With nature’s flowering renewal
Bursting with beauty and abundance 
In the freedom of spring.

WHERE THE RIVERS MEET
Roaring white, pounding the granite
Swirling, swelling, splendor
The air is heavy with anticipation
It blows over me like a lover’s touch
Filling my heart with sweet floral ecstasy
I relax into the experience
Each breath carries away my worries 
My eyes fill with abandonment
As the rushing liquid serenades me
Singing the praise of this paradise
Until the different directions converge 
After a brief resounding rumble
They combine and continue on their way 
Leaving the moment where the rivers meet.

OCEAN
As I sit perched up high on our lanai
Comfortable on my recliner in the shade
The ocean draws my gaze
Its sapphire and emerald water calls me
While the blue pool floats in its space—uninviting
I hear the sea’s song as it smashes onto the shore
The surfers ride its motion
The snorkelers gaze into its depth
And the swimmers float on its perception
Our attraction is undeniable
Opposites: one of air, one of water
It beckons, and I must respond
Offering myself up to the hidden world
Under the cerulean summon
I answer, embracing the ocean completely.


Thank you for supporting this member along the WATCH "RWISA" WRITE Showcase Tour today!  We ask that if you have enjoyed this member's writing, please visit their Author Page on the RWISA site, where you can find more of their writing, along with their contact and social media links, if they've turned you into a fan.

We ask that you also check out their books in the RWISA or RRBC catalogs.  Thanks, again for your support and we hope that you will follow each member along this amazing tour of talent!  Don't forget to click the link below to learn more about this author:

Monday, July 1, 2019

Welcome to the WATCH "RWISA" WRITE Showcase Tour! #RRBC #RWISA



I'm so pleased to welcome you to the Watch RWISA Write Showcase Tour. Today, I'm hosting John Howell and sharing his new short story "The Road."



Just a couple more hours and I’ll be able to rest my eyes. Been on this damn highway for what seems like forever. His head slowly nods until the rumble strip noise causes him to jerk awake. “I have been asleep,” he yells. He yanks the wheel, and the tires screech in protest as he swerves back on to the highway. He can feel his heart in his chest and pressure in his eyes. In an instant, he regrets being so weak as to give in to the physical need. He also becomes alarmed since now he knows that sleep could overtake him without notice.  One second, his eyes could be open and the next closed. Thank God for the jarring and noise of the rumble strips since without its alarm, he is sure he would have ended up piled into a tree.
 As his heart settles down, he concentrates on the road ahead. There’s someone at the side about a half mile away. A hitchhiker by the looks of a backpack. A sign in the person’s hand is not readable at this distance. The thought occurs that It would be a good thing to have someone else in the car to help him stay awake.  Of course, there are dangers in picking up a stranger. As he gets closer, he can see that the hitchhiker is not a guy like he thought. It’s a young woman about his age.  She is wearing some kind of overalls, but the distinctive female form still comes through. He decides to slow down and assess the situation. A girl makes all the difference in trying to reach a decision for or against a pickup. After all, who knows where this could lead? He does know that in all probability, she is not likely to stick a knife in his ribs and demand his wallet after a couple of miles down the road.
 He eases the car to the shoulder and can’t help kick up some dust in the process. The sign is facing him even as the person turns away to avoid the dust storm he has created. Kansas City in black marker on cardboard is all it says.
 He opens the passenger door and waves her over. “I’m going to Kansas City. Want a ride?”
The young woman looks back at him, and he can tell she is doing an evaluation on the safety prospects of accepting a lift. She slowly hoists her backpack on to her shoulder and walks with hesitant steps toward the car. She puts her hand above her eyes to cut the glare of the sun and stops short of the door. She leans in. “Did you say you’re going to Kansas City?”
“Yes. Yes, I did. I also asked if you would like a ride.”
“That all depends on your intentions?”
“My intentions?”
“Yeah. You are offering a ride. How much will it cost me?”
“Cost you? I’m going to Kansas City. Your sign says Kansas City. Why would it cost you anything?”
“Just want to make sure is all.”
“No charge. I’ve been on the road forever, it seems, and I would welcome the company. My name is James.”
“Sorry, James. I know I sounded a little ungrateful, but I have also been on the road and have met several guys that think I owe them something for a ride.”
“I can understand that. Let’s just say you can ride or not it’s your choice. No other decisions to be made.”
“Fair enough. I accept your offer. My name is Sarah.” She slides in and slams the door.
“Nice to meet you, Sarah. You want to put your backpack in the rear?”
“No, I’ll just keep it here in the front with me. You can never tell.”
“Tell what?”
“When I’ll have to bail. Everything I own is in this pack, and I sure wouldn’t want to leave it behind.”
“I get it. No use trusting someone just cause they say you can.”
“Right. I think I like you, James.”
“Wainwright. My last name’s Wainwright. How about you?”
“Not sure I have a last name. I go by Sarah.”
“No last name? How can that be?”
“You going to start this car or is my fear well founded.”
James flushes as he turns the ignition. “Yeah, here we go.” He looks in the side mirror and signals as he pulls back on the highway.
“You are a cautious one. There’s no one for miles.”
“I guess it’s a habit from city driving.” He keeps checking in the mirror until he is up to highway speed
“Where you from, James?”
“New York. You?”
“I think I was originally from down south somewhere.”
“You don’t know?”
“Well, it’s been a long time.” She pauses.
James glances at her and sees that she is lost in thought somewhere. Her skin is fair, and she has the high cheekbones and lips of a runway model. She looks vaguely familiar, and he compares her looks to Joni Mitchell. There is that innocent, fragile look that makes you want to take care of her.
“I’m sorry. What did you say?” She is back.
“I didn’t say anything. I’m amazed you don’t know where you are from.”
“Well do you remember where you’re from or is it someone told you?”
She has a point. James only knew he was born in Chicago because his parents told him so. He lived in New York for twenty years so unless clued in he would have thought he lived there his whole life. “I guess I should rephrase the question. Where did you last live?”
“Yes, James. That makes a little more sense. I last lived in Dubuque, Iowa.”
“What a coincidence. I am driving from Dubuque. Do you believe that?”
“I can believe that. Someone once said there are only six degrees of separation of everyone on Earth. You and I traveling from Dubuque at the same time certainly falls into that realm.”
“Aw come on, Sarah. We are both going from Dubuque to Kansas City. That has to be more than a coincidence.”
“I never said I was going to Kansas City, James.”
“Wait. You have that sign that says Kansas City.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m going there.”
“What does it mean?”
“You think I know?”
“I’m getting a weird feeling here, Sarah. Like you aren’t telling me something.”
“Do you remember swerving after you ran off the highway?”
“What? Back there. Yeah, I remember almost falling asleep. Hey, wait a minute. How would you know about that?”
“Think a minute, James. How do you think I would know about that moment?”
“Sarah I’m too tired for guessing games. What is this all about?”
“Do you feel okay, James?”
“Yeah, just tired.” 
“Look around. Do you see any other cars?”
“No, but I haven’t for a while. What are you trying to tell me, Sarah?”
“You fell asleep James.”
“When did I fall asleep? I know I nodded off, but when did I fall asleep?”
“Just before your car went off the road and you hit a cement culvert.”
“Now, you are joking. Right? Right, Sarah?”
“No joke, James. Look ahead. What do you see?”
“Uh up the road, you mean?”
“Yes, up the road.”
“Nothing but what looks like a sandstorm.”
“It’s no storm, James. It is nothing.”
“Who are you anyway?”
“Do you remember that little girl who went missing in the second grade?”
“Yeah, what does that have to do with you?”
“Does the nickname Jimmy Jeans mean anything?”
“That’s what Sarah called me in the second grade.”
“How did I know that?”
“You wouldn’t unless.”
“Unless I’m Sarah.”
“Oh My God. Sarah. It is you. Where have you been?”
“That’s not important. What is important is you were broken hearted when I vanished. You prayed for my return and made promises to God if only I would come back.”
“I never got over that either. I think of that little gir¾. I mean, I thought of you almost every day. Why didn’t I recognize you?”
“Cause I’m all grown up. There would be no way.”
“Where have you been Sarah. I have missed you so much.”
“Don’t cry, James. I’m here with you now.”
“Can you tell me what happened to you?”
“No, James, it’s not worth the time.”
“So why now? Why are you here now?”
“To help you, James.”
“To help me. How?”
“To understand what your life is like now.”
“Now? What do you mean?”
“You were in an accident, James. You ran off the road, and I am sorry to say your body didn’t survive. You are now going with me on an eternal trip.”
“You are saying I’m dead. I can’t believe that.  Look at me. I’m just as alive as you.”
“That’s right. You are.”
“Um, Sarah?”
“Yes, James.”
“You are dead too?”
“Yes, James. A man took me from school and killed me. They never found my body.”
“W-what?”
“Don’t think about that now. Think about the future. Because you prayed so hard and missed me so much, I was given the honor of escorting you to the other side.” 
“Other side? There’s a Future?”
“A wonderful one.  You and I for all time.”
“I would like that.”
“Take my hand then. Let’s be off.”
“I have more questions.”
“All in good time, James. All in good time.”


Thank you for supporting this member along the WATCH "RWISA" WRITE Showcase Tour today!  We ask that if you have enjoyed this member's writing, please visit their Author Page on the RWISA site, where you can find more of their writing, along with their contact and social media links, if they've turned you into a fan.

We ask that you also check out their books in the RWISA or RRBC catalogs.  Thanks, again for your support and we hope that you will follow each member along this amazing tour of talent!  Don't forget to click the link below to learn more about this author:

Tuesday, June 18, 2019

Welcome to the "THE CHOICE, the unexpected heroes" Blog Tour! @gmplano @4WillsPub #RRBC


I'm please today to welcome fellow Rave Reviews Book Club member Gwen Plano. She's promoting her book The Choice, now available for $0.99! Take it away, Gwen! 



***

As a child of the Sixties, tragedy squelched my idealism. First, the unbelievable occurred. President John F. Kennedy was shot and killed. His death was followed by the murder of civil rights leader and minister, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. A few months later, JFK’s brother, Senator Robert F. Kennedy was assassinated. Three notable and beloved leaders were dead.

These events shook the nation as nothing had prior. There were answers given, culprits found, but many of us did not believe what we were told. Doubt became part of the fabric of our lives.

In THE CHOICE, questions are raised about key deaths and theories abound. In this clip, a traitor (Robert Sullivan) is murdered while in prison. 




Excerpt:

Admiral Parker walks into the OPS Center and asks for Sergeant Gruner. A staffer leads him to the back office.

“Good morning, sir. You must have heard from General Taylor.”

“I sure did. What in the world happened?”

“The preliminary reports show that Sullivan was poisoned. The kitchen delivered breakfast at 0600. The airman brought it in to the prisoner. He began eating at 0620 and became unresponsive by 0625.”

“Did you check the camera feeds for anything unusual?”

“Done it, sir. This has to be a professional hit. We also checked the camera feed in the kitchen and don’t see anything unusual.”

“How many trays were prepared today?”

“Besides this one, fourteen to the medical center.”

“Does this one stand out in any way? How do you identify them?”

“Each tray gets labeled because of the special diets in the clinic. This one simply said, prisoner.”

“What about the delivery truck and driver?”

“Nothing unusual so far, sir. We’re going over every inch of footage.”

“All right. Call me if you find anything.”

“Copy that, sir. I’m sorry I let you down.”

“You didn’t let me down, Gruner. We just got too close to the Lion, andhe sent a clear message.”

“Sir?”

“No one will stand in his way.”



***

BIO:

Growing up in Southern California, Gwen Plano loved learning. She earned four degrees and taught and served in universities and colleges across the country and in Japan. Now retired, she is focused on writing. Gwen's first book, Letting Go into Perfect Love, is a memoir. Her second book, The Contract, is a thriller co-authored by John W. Howell. Gwen lives in the Midwest with her husband, and when she is not writing, she is traveling, usually to see one of her four children and many grandchildren.

Links:

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2Z3dUEm

Website: https://gwenmplano.com/

Twitter: @gmplano

Facebook: @GwendolynMPlano

***

To follow along with the rest of the tour, please visit the author's tour page on the 4WillsPublishing site.  If you'd like to book your own blog tour and have your book promoted in similar grand fashion, please click HERE.  

Lastly, Gwen is a member of the best book club ever - RAVE REVIEWS BOOK CLUB {#RRBC}! If you're looking for amazing support as an author, or if you simply love books, JOIN US! We'd love to have you!

Wednesday, June 12, 2019

Welcome to the "CHASING THE RED QUEEN" Blog Tour! @ElizabethGlist1 @4WillsPub #RRBC




It's my pleasure today to welcome fellow Rave Reviews Book Club author Karen Glista, here to promote her paranormal romance novel Chasing the Red Queen. Take it away, Karen!


***

Excerpt

Donja glared at Torin as she tried to break free of his grasp. “Let me go,” she groaned.

He ignored her and met her gaze with scintillating eyes.

She instantly felt a hypnotic power penetrating her mind. “Stop that, don’t look at me,” she hissed, closing her eyes. “It’s unfair—this power you possess.”

“It’s who I am,” he whispered, and she felt his breath on her cheek. “I can’t control it, the swoosh of your blood, the beat of your heart—your scent.” He took a breath. “Listen to me. I don’t want to replace Anstosa, she’s dead. What I feel right now, this pain in my chest far exceeds—”

“Stop it!” she screamed, turning away from his eyes which were so powerfully possessive that she could feel him, pulling her in.

“Look at me!” he commanded, and his voice—the power.

She spun to face him, dark locks flying.

He released his grip. “It’s you, Donja, not her. It’s always been you. I just couldn’t find you.”


BIO:



Karen Glista is a registered nurse and award-winning author. Living in the great lakes stateof Michigan, she finds solace in a remote home nestled within a dense forest (which she believes is enchanted). In the moss laden woodlands, she often wanders, all the while delving into and living fantasy as much as reality. Driven by heart, visionary characters, and underlying dreams, she embraces the fictious and much like you comes to know them, and with such, spins a tale that in the dark of night lights your soul.

PURCHASE LINK

Chasing the Red Queen on Amazon- https://www.amazon.com/dp/B079KJFJW8/


SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KarenGlistaBooks/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/ElizabethGlist1

Website: https://karenglista.com/

To follow along with the rest of the tour, please visit the author's tour page on the 4WillsPublishing site.  If you'd like to book your own blog tour and have your book promoted in similar grand fashion, please click HERE.  

Lastly, Karen is a member of the best book club ever - RAVE REVIEWS BOOK CLUB {#RRBC}! If you're looking for amazing support as an author, or if you simply love books, JOIN US! We'd love to have you!

Thanks for supporting this author and her work! 

Monday, April 15, 2019

Questions to Answer When Building a Character

I attended a writing conference last weekend sponsored by the Tri-Valley Writers Club, a branch of the California Writers Club. One of the sessions I attended was a very interesting class taught by brilliant Bay Area author and teacher David Corbett. The session focused on building complex characters to drive your plot development. Here is one thing I took away from his presentation that I will be keeping in mind as I move forward with my own work.

Questions to answer when building a character

1) What is her moment of greatest pride? Did anyone witness it?
2) What is her moment of greatest shame?
3) What is her moment of greatest courage?
4) What is her moment of greatest fear?
5) What is her moment of greatest sorrow?
6) What is her moment of greatest joy?
7) What is the moment of greatest harm caused to another human being?

Will the answers to all of these things be explicitly revealed in the book? Probably not. But will they drive how your character behaves? Most definitely. For more information about David's thoughts on character, check out his book, The Art of Character.

Monday, April 1, 2019

Hexborn Takes Silver In the 2018 Wishing Shelf Book Awards

I was so pleased to find out today that Hexborn has received a silver medal in the Books for Teenagers category of the Wishing Shelf Book Awards out of the United Kingdom. I was a finalist a few years ago for She Dies at the End, but this is the first time I've won, so I'm terribly excited.

I'm especially pleased because the judging of this competition is done by panels of actual students in U.K. schools (for the children's and YA categories), and the organizer provides feedback from the reading groups for all the folks who enter. It's one of the few above-board contests, not a cash-grab preying on desperate indie authors. I can't wait to receive my feedback in a few weeks so I can share it with you.

The indie author thing is a rough gig, and it is nice to get a little validation from strangers. :-)

If you haven't yet had the chance to read Hexborn, it's currently free on Kindle Unlimited!