Monday Morsels: Tormented Souls

TORMENTED SOULS

  by Autumn Winchester

The ends of my midnight hair tickled my arms as I stood off to the side of the arched entryway. I watched as a few people went in and out, not giving me a second glance as I willed myself to just enter the ballroom.

It was as if I were invisible. Unfortunately, I was anything but.

I willed my palms to not be sweaty as I told my nerves to calm down. I had nothing to be nervous about. This wasn’t about me.

I didn’t want to be here, or anywhere for that matter, but tonight, I had no choice.

I was the last person to be looking forward to this little party. I wanted no part in it, which I was clear from the start. My parents knew I’d rather be studying than here.

I’d tried to get out of it. I tried everything I could think of, even going as far as begging my parents. Nothing had worked.

Everyone knew this was more than just a simple eighteenth birthday party for my one and only sister—a sister who hated me being so close to her age. A sister who got everything she wanted with a simple look. I, on the other hand, had to work tooth and nail to get anything; a reason I hardly ever asked for anything to begin with. I didn’t like attention as it was, so I was perfectly fine with tonight being all about her. It always tended to be, anyway.

“There you are,” my mother said as she spotted me.

Opening my eyes, I met her disapproving stare as she stopped just feet in front of me. Her blue irises were the color of a dark, stormy sky. Sometimes, I couldn’t tell if they were blue or black with how dark they were. It fit her stormy nature, so who knew what mood she was in this evening.

“Couldn’t you have worn the gown your sister picked out? It would have shown off your body so much better,” she sniffed, looking me up and down as if I were wearing a paper bag.

My mother and sister thought showing off one’s body was the only way to get the attention of not just the opposite sex, but of everyone in one room—despite her chin-length dyed red hair making her look ten years older than she really was.

Unlike her tight black dress that was sprinkled with diamonds around her breasts to showcase her assets, mine was flowy and lacked flair. The silk material touched the tops of my toes and swayed around my legs with every movement. It hung over my frame by two very thin straps that were only just noticeable. A small little flower sat right on my hip, binding the layers of the dress together in an elegant way.

“What’s wrong with this one?” I asked, looking her right in the eye as I kept my shoulders back to disguise my displeasure of being here.

The dress my sister had picked out was something I’d never be caught dead in. It had been dog pee yellow and was two sizes too small for even her to wear, along with having a deep V in the front to where any man with eyes would have seen my barely-there breasts.

“It’s not that flattering,” she spoke in distaste.

“It is to me,” I said, holding my head up. I wasn’t going to let her know her words could get to me. She knew the right thing to say to make me rethink my choices. I hated when she put me down, but there wasn’t much I could do while still living under this roof.

If only I could get out of my parents’ clutches. I was merely biding my time now, hoping I’d get a way out of their strict rules soon.

“At least it matches your eyes,” she grunted, like it was the only nice thing she could say. For her, it almost certainly was.

It did match my eyes. The dress was a silvery green color, more gray than green depending on how the light caught it.

I loved my eyes because they were the only thing that didn’t match either of my parents. They were strictly my own.

“Why haven’t you joined the party yet?” Mom asked. She knew I was stubborn when it came to certain things; the way I dressed was one of them. It was only because there were people nearby that she didn’t make any more comments. I could imagine what she was thinking, though, and the words weren’t pretty.

“You know why,” I grumbled, the words nearly a whisper.

“You can’t blame your sister,” she huffed. “You could have been the center of attention right next to her. It would have been easy to make this your night too, you know.”

She made it sound as though I wanted to be the center of attention. I detested having people look at me. I didn’t want a birthday ball. I saw no point in it.

I breathed through my nose, willing myself to keep the words I desperately wanted to say inside my throat. It didn’t matter that they burned on the tip of my tongue. I knew if I said what I so desperately wanted to, all hell would break loose. Tonight was not a night to do that—not if I wanted to keep being invisible for as long as I possibly could.

When you looked at my sister and I, we were two opposites. While she was tall, blond, and perfect, I was short, dark haired, and had strange eyes. Judi was the spitting image of the woman who stood before me, except for the hair. I wasn’t sure why the looks didn’t pass to me, but I had a pretty sure guess.

My sister was the apple of Daddy’s eye while I stayed in the shadows. It was where I preferred to be. The few times I did have my father’s attention, it never ended well for me. It wasn’t that I didn’t like having a father figure in my life, it was just that I didn’t like him. He gave me the creeps, possibly because I could see past his emotionless face and carefully spoken words.

###

After months of my monsters attacking me in my dreams, I come to know I am not normal.

I am not human.

I don’t know what I am, but whatever it is, my parents want me dead. They see me as a threat, a target.

To what? I have no idea.

When the monsters from my nightmares manifest in real life, I will do anything in my power just to stay alive—including following the lead of a stranger who promises to protect me from the unknown.

Can we survive what’s in store for us?

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Tuesday Special: Witch Wish

JACQUELINE SEEWALD

https://jacquelineseewald.blogspot.com/

Val Williams believes she will never be as pretty or popular as her older sister Ailene. When Ailene dumps her on an unfamiliar road after an argument, Val decides to ask directions of the only person she sees—an old woman engaged in a garage sale. Val purchases a music box that the old woman claims has magical qualities and will grant Val one wish. In a fit of pique, Val wishes that that her sister would stop being so perfect. When Ailene starts acting oddly, breaks up with her boyfriend, stops talking to her friends, starts dating a “bad” boy, and cuts classes, Val is troubled. She begins to fear she caused all this to happen by making her wish and suffers a guilty conscience. How she goes about setting matters right makes for some unusual complications and surprises.
 
Black Opal Books          Amazon


About Jacqueline Seewald:   
Multiple award-winning author, Jacqueline Seewald, has taught creative, expository and technical writing at Rutgers University as well as high school English. She also worked as both an academic librarian and an educational media specialist. Nineteen of her books of fiction have been published to critical praise including books for adults, teens and children. Her most recent novels are DEATH PROMISE and WITCH WISH. Her short stories, poems, essays, reviews and articles have appeared in hundreds of diverse publications and numerous anthologies such as: THE WRITER, L.A. TIMES, READER’S DIGEST, PEDESTAL, SHERLOCK HOLMES MYSTERY MAGAZINE, OVER MY DEAD BODY!, GUMSHOE REVIEW, LIBRARY JOURNAL, PUBLISHERS WEEKLY and THE CHRISTIAN SCIENCE MONITOR. She enjoys painting landscapes and singing along to all kinds of music. Her writer’s blog can be found at: http://jacquelineseewald.blogspot.com.

Smoke and Mirrors and Valuable Lessons by HL Carpenter

The Write Way Café welcomes HL Carpenter, a mother/daughter writing team who shares a few tips for improving writing productivity,  skill, and inspiration.

March 29 is Smoke and Mirrors Day...we think. Someone could be deceiving us, much the way the hero in our young adult novel, Walled In, is deceived when her father is accused of fraud. But we found out about Smoke and Mirrors Day on the internet, so it must be true, right? :)

Right. Well, one fact we're sure of here in Carpenter Country is that our author friends don't deceive us. Oh, yes, they write mysteries that take us down the garden path, away from the solution to the crime, and they happily sprinkle misdirection here, there, and everywhere in their stories. But in real life, we've learned valuable lessons from other authors.

Here are three.

Good habits. When a famous author was invited to speak at a class we attended, he mentioned that when he's writing, he doesn't stop. If his thoughts wander to his errands while he's in the middle of a scene, he puts a bracket at that point in his manuscript and inserts whatever is on his mind. Then he closes the bracket and continues with his day's writing. When the manuscript is complete, he does a search for these entries and saves them to another document to serve as a journal of his writing.

You might consider this a form of conscious flow. Whatever term you want to use, once we put his technique to work, our productivity increased. As a bonus, these "side" entries provide fodder for new story ideas.

Solid craft. After we've enjoyed reading the latest bestseller by a favorite author, we return to the beginning and reread the book. This time, we take a step back from the story and study the execution. For example, we examine the setup of the first paragraph and think about the ending and how the beginning and end tie together. We also study story arc, character development, and dialogue flow. Each book is a mini course in writing artistry.

Perseverance. J.K. Rowling's trek to publication after multiple rejections is a large part of her personal backstory. And after the success of her boy wizard series, she received a rejection from a publisher when she submitted a manuscript under a pseudonym. That manuscript later went on to be another bestseller. Even if we're never as famous as J.K. Rowling, we're inspired by her story and her persistence.

What have you learned from other authors? Let us know in the comments. In the meantime, happy Smoke and Mirrors Day...and happy reading and writing!

***

When her father is accused of fraud, seventeen year old Vandy Spencer discovers her entire life has been built on a heart-shattering deception.

Seventeen year old Vandy Spencer lives like a princess. Sheltered by her wealthy family, she happily makes plans to spend a fantasy before-college gap summer with her gorgeous boyfriend.

Then her dad is accused of a huge financial fraud. Vandy is thrust into a frenzy of media attention as accusations and innuendos pile up daily. The victims of her dad’s swindle vow revenge, and her dad flees.

As her perfect life disintegrates, Vandy retreats to a hermit-like existence in her childhood tree house and struggles to separate reality from lies. Was her perfect life truly so perfect? Did she ever really know her father?

When family secrets come to light, revealing an unimaginable betrayal, Vandy learns to appreciate the simple richness of sincerity and truth.

EXCERPT

A branch cracked behind me and leaves rustled. I scrambled to my feet.

Stenny had come after me! He really did love me, enough to follow me, and…

Pete Hawthorn stepped out of the woods, holding a flashlight. The backglow lit his face, which was drawn into the frown he wore lately whenever he saw me, and his mouth turned down into a scowl. “Don’t you have any sense at all, Dandy-Vandy?”

I should have known Stenny wouldn’t traipse through the woods searching for me. Running through the dark wasn’t his style. He’d use his phone.

My own phone, tucked in the pocket of my shorts, burst into the first bars of Boyfriend. I ignored the noise and poked a finger at Pete’s chest. “Quit calling me that. Don’t you have better things to do than skulk around the woods in the dark? Like maybe going to work?”

“I took the night off.” He peered at me. “Why are you crying?”

“None of your business!” Then, as his words sank in, I asked, “Why’d you take the night off? Is Gus okay?”

“Gramps is the same as he always is.” Pete slid the button on the flashlight and the bulb dimmed. “I stayed home because we heard the news about your dad. We’re going to help, in whatever way we can.” His voice barely carried across the small space between us, the words and tone sincere.

“That means a lot. Thanks. Tell Gus thanks too.”

“Yeah.” Pete turned the flashlight on bright again and waved it in a searching arc. “Where’s the jerk-off? He leave you alone out here?”

My gratitude evaporated like dew off grass. I planted my hands on my hips as my phone played Boyfriend again. “Stenny’s not a jerk-off, and he’s probably at the tree house, where I left him.”

“How nice to know he’ll stay where you tell him to. At least you won’t need to put a leash on him when the two of you are wandering around France.” Pete narrowed his eyes. “The woods are really dark, Dandy-Vandy, in case you haven’t noticed. Do you have a flashlight? Or am I gonna have to walk you home?”

I didn’t need him to babysit me. I opened my mouth to say so, and then reconsidered as the sounds of the night surged around me. He was right. The darkness crackled with noises I hadn’t paid much attention to during my rush to get away from the hurt of Stenny’s doubt. The air seemed ominous too, full of a sickly-sweet odor, a combination of gasoline, motor oil, and damp dirt. The mix stunk the way I imagined zombies – or worse, vampires – would.

“Thanks, Pete. That’s a good idea.”

“I have them occasionally.” He gestured with the flashlight. “The path’s this way.”

We strode along single file without speaking. The dry leaves crackled beneath our feet and the occasional haunting cry of a bird shredded the air.

“Nightingale,” Pete said.

We reached the end of the path, coming out of the woods behind a row of bushes fencing Kingsway’s open lawn. A line of solar lights illuminated the back yard, glowing against the pool cabana and the house’s white walls beyond – big, ornate…and home.

I smiled despite my worries. “I love how pretty our house is at night.”

Pete shut the flashlight off. “I’ll send you pictures while you’re enjoying your European adventure with the jerk-off.”

I was turning to him when a man carrying a portable video camera dashed across the lawn. I gasped. “He’s headed for the house! I have to warn Dad.”

Walled In, a stand-alone young adult novel of approximately 70,000 words, is available as an ebook at Smashwords, and in ebook and paperback format at Amazon.

Smashwords       Amazon

Mother/daughter author duo HL Carpenter write family-friendly fiction from their studios in Carpenter Country, a magical place that, like their stories, is unreal but not untrue. When they’re not writing, they enjoy exploring the Land of What-If and practicing the fine art of Curiosity. Visit HLCarpenter.com to enjoy gift reads and excerpts and to find out what’s happening in Carpenter Country.

Stay connected on Pinterest, Linkedin, Google+, and their Amazon Author Page.

Author Mindset: Admitting it is the First Step by Dyan Chick

The Write Way Café welcomes Dyan Chick, author of Heir of Illaria, a Young Adult fantasy, with advice about not being a closet writer.

You are a Writer.

When you decide to take writing seriously, like for real, move forward with your work and finish a manuscript seriously, you have to tell people.

I know, I know. It’s scary. If you tell people, they might want to (gasp) actually read your book. Two things: First, most people will say they want to read your book, but they never will. Second, what were you planning to do with the finished manuscript anyway?

If your answer is to lock it in a drawer and never look at it again, you can stop reading this right now. This post isn’t for you. You are a closet writer, a hobbyist, and that’s totally fine. If you write for yourself and you never want to share with the world, go for it. You gotta do you. However, if you are reading this, there is a good chance you want to get your writing out there in the world. You want somebody to read your book. If that’s the case, you have to tell people that you are a writer.

What?! Did she say I have to call myself a writer? Why, yes, yes she did. Are you writing? If the answer to that question is yes, then you are a writer. Admitting it is the first step. Seriously. You need to put it out there. That doesn’t mean you have to blast it all over social media - though you could. Or start small, tell somebody, anybody. Just put it out there. Call your mom, your best friend, your co-worker. Once other people know you are a writer, they’ll start asking you about your writing. And once you start telling people you are a writer, you might just start believing that you are a writer.

I know it’s hard - though I’m not sure why. There’s something about calling yourself a writer that we all struggle with. Even bestselling authors struggle with this - you are not alone.

I wrote in secret for years. Since childhood. I didn’t think anybody knew I was writing. It was quite a surprise to be given the “most likely to be published” award at the cheesy 7th-grade award ceremony. I didn’t even know my teachers knew. But they could see me making notes and filling notebooks. It’s just part of who I am. And I have a feeling it’s part of who you are, too.

Despite writing on and off most of my adult life, it took years for me to admit it out loud. So when I finally felt brave enough to do it, I posted a picture on Facebook of my pages from my first critique group. They were all marked up but for some reason, the fact that I was going to a critique group gave me the strength to admit that I was a writer. It was well-received by my friends, many of whom had known me for years and had no clue I wrote.

Let me tell you, admitting it is the hardest part. Once it’s out there, once you believe you are a writer, magical things start to happen. I made that Facebook post in April. By the following April, I had written 3 full novels and a novella. Magical.

Heir of Illaria, Book One of the Illaria Series

In Illaria, there is a fate worse than death.

As long as I can remember, I’ve been taught to fear the Necromancer King. He controls the kingdom of Illaria with dark sorcery and the constant threat of his undead army. I never thought I’d have reason to cross his path. Everything changed the day his guards tried to kill me. That’s when I found out my whole life has been a lie. By joining a resistance group called the White Ravens, I’ve claimed new roles. Princess of Illaria, sorceress in training, and threat to the Necromancer King.

Amazon





Dyan Chick is the author of Illaria Series, a YA fantasy. By day, she teaches high school art and history. She lives in Colorado with her husband and daughter. Music is always on in the background while writing, and often while teaching. She has a love of art, travel, and superheroes. When not writing, she enjoys spending time at museums, watching movies, and getting outside to explore Colorado.

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Humor Writing Tips with Mark Hunter

What's so Funny? The Write Way Café welcomes author Mark Hunter, who knows humor.

     This may come as a surprise from someone who eagerly awaits the newest episode of The Walking Dead, but I like humor in my entertainment. The only mindless entertainment on that show is when someone’s brain gets eaten.

     But of my eight published works seven have humor in them, including a collection of humor pieces based on my long running column, Slightly Off the Mark. This spring I took it a step further by publishing a book about Indiana history: a humor book about Indiana history, called Hoosier Hysterical: How the West Became the Midwest Without Moving At All.

     See how often I used the word “humor”? That means it must be true.

     Humor was easy for my romantic comedies; not so easy for the history of our local fire department. But it’s doable, and what I like to do. If I was a TV writer, it wouldn’t be for The Walking Dead: It would be for Supernatural.

     As an author, there are three big mistakes you can make: Try to establish a career while writing in more than one genre; mix genres in one book; and presume to tell someone how to write humor.

     I’m kidding, there are lots more mistakes than that. But since one out of three ain’t bad, I won’t presume to tell you how to write humor. In fact, I only know three humor writing tips: Stay away from politics, don’t make fun of your mother-in-law, and use the Rule of Threes. (See what I did, there?) I make the rest up as I go along.

     Still, I’m living proof that you can insert humor into any genre. It’s easy in some cases. In my second romance, The Notorious Ian Grant, it comes from Ian’s personality. Here’s part of the conversation when he first encounters Beth Hamlin, a teenager who’s soon to become his partner in crime:

     “If you don’t move on pretty soon, Fran’ll come over here and shoot you.” The girl gestured toward the State Trooper, who now watched him with a deepened frown.
     “Well, I need to get to a little town called Hurricane.”
     “Are you a looter?”
     “Not lately. Oh, sorry—I’m Ian Grant.”
     Her blue eyes widened, for an instant. “I’m Beth. Is looting a regular hobby in California?”
     “It depends on the election cycle, and who’s on trial.”

     But it’s not so easy in other cases. My first draft of Smoky Days and Sleepless Nights: A Century of So With the Albion Fire Department was entirely devoid of humor. It was a history book, after all, sold as a fund raiser for the local volunteer fire department. (You’ll never guess the town’s name.) But in the final draft, I managed to insert a little gentle fun:

     In some communities the law stated everyone had to own at least one bucket.  As the alarm spread, people would throw their buckets out the window, where they’d be grabbed up, until everyone formed bucket brigades to splash water on the fire.

     How many concussions resulted from falling buckets hasn’t been documented.

     It’s not Shakespeare, but then some people claim Shakespeare wasn’t Shakespeare, either.

     Beth pops up again in The No-Campfire Girls, a young adult adventure set at an Indiana summer camp. In fact, Beth is a prime example of one of those characters who takes such a hold in the author’s imagination that she runs wild and does whatever she wants. She appears in four of my books, and takes over every scene she’s in.

     With The No-Campfire Girls the humor is a bit broader, and in some cases more physical, as the girls plot to end a drought. In this example, as they discuss the fire danger, it’s Beth’s friend Heather who steals the moment:

     “I’ve got good news.” Heather pulled an extension cord from her suitcase, and draped it over another case; smaller, but still her third one. “Now I can get everything plugged in.”

     “Heather. This is camp.”

     “I know, it’s so unfair. There are no boys within five miles, no air conditioner within five hundred feet, and no Starbucks this side of Evansville. But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have my makeup and curler with me, in case … well, suppose there’s a fire? Hunky firefighters.”

     “You’re fifteen, and they’d be busy.”

     If done right—in fiction, at least—humor comes from the characters and the situation they find themselves in. Ian Grant is incapable of taking anything seriously, even when he does take things seriously—cracking jokes is all he knows. So in tense situations he might still be funny; but when things turn serious for Beth Hamlin, despite her normal sunny disposition, she turns serious, too.

     Any situation, including a zombie apocalypse, can have a little humor in it. In my Storm Chaser Shortns story collection, two firefighters have just gone through a scary moment when a roof collapses on one of them:

     “You okay?”

     “Sure I am.” Getting back to his knees, Rich craned his neck to examine himself. “Am I on fire?”

     “No –“

     “There you go, then.”

     In non-fiction? Well, then you can make fun of anything, as long as you’re willing to face readers who don’t happen to have a sense of humor. In Hoosier Hysterical I don’t shy away from the fact that Indiana, the state named after Indians, kicked all the Indians out.

     It’s more than the politically correct who might take offense. My aim wasn’t to teach history: It was to show history can be fun. Archeologists might have fits when they read this, about the pre-Indian culture:

     Some ancient graves have been discovered of abnormally tall people, so much so they’re often called giants. This led, of course, to the phrase “corn fed” to describe tall people. Researchers later determined corn alone won’t account for unusual growth, which lead to the theory that mastodons were tasty.

     Early natives left great mounds all around Indiana and neighboring states. The purpose of those mounds remained a puzzle, until a twelve year old boy from Clarksville pointed out the natives seemed to have no outhouses. This came as a tremendous shock to archeologists of the time, who were known to be very hands-on.

     Maybe I’ll get lucky, and they won’t read it. Actually, I’d rather they did read it: Nothing means sales like a little controversy. Isn’t that a funny concept?

     At least, I hope so.

Mark R Hunter’s newest book is possibly his strangest hybrid: a humor-history book, Hoosier Hysterical: How the West Became the Midwest Without Moving At All. In addition he’s the author of two romantic comedies, Storm Chaser and its sequel, The Notorious Ian Grant, as well as a related story collection, Storm Chaser Shorts. He also wrote a young adult adventure, The No-Campfire Girls, and a humor collection, Slightly Off the Mark. He collaborated with his wife, Emily, on the history books Images of America: Albion and Noble County, and Smoky Days and Sleepless Nights: A Century or So With The Albion Fire Department. Mark’s work also appeared in the anthologies My Funny Valentine and Strange Portals: Ink Slingers’ Fantasy/Horror Anthology.

www.markrhunter.com

http://www.amazon.com/Mark-R-Hunter/e/B0058CL6OO

https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter/

@MarkRHunter

An Interview with Catherine Chant

The Write Way Café welcomes author Catherine Chant, here to tell us about her new Soul Mate series!

Hello, everyone! I'm so excited to be here at The Write Way Cafe to tell you a little bit about next book my young adult time travel series, Nothing Stays the Same, and to share the cover with you.

In Wishing You Were Here (Book 1 in the Soul Mates series), we briefly met Callie's younger sister Leah. Now it's Leah's turn for a little time-traveling adventure. Callie went back to the rockin' 50s, but Leah is headed for the groovy 70s. What could be more fun? So, grab your hip-hugger bell-bottoms and those ugly Earth shoes, and let's go!

What Inspired You to Write this Book?

When I wrote the first book, I already had in mind that the series would be music-related. Book 1 took place in 1957 and dealt with early rock 'n' roll. For Book 2 I decided to go forward in time a little bit. The '70s, musically speaking, were a period of great changes and I saw a lot of story potential there. You still had the protest songs from the '60s, then you had glam rock and a second British invasion. You also had a huge rise in kid-centered television shows with musical tie-ins.

One of the biggest inspirations for Nothing Stays the Same was The Monkees, a show I loved as a kid, and The Partridge Family, another classic from the early '70s era. I'm also a huge fan of David Bowie, whose iconic Ziggy Stardust album hit the airwaves in 1972. So I took a little bit of all that, brought in lots of my own memories of growing up in the 1970s (and reading about my favorite teen idols in Tiger Beat magazine) and invented my own musical TV show, my own "manufactured" pop band, and dropped a teenage couple from the 21st century into the mix to shake things up a bit.

Tell Us A Little Bit About the Main Character

Leah Reinard is the younger sister of the heroine from Book 1. When you first meet Leah in Book 1 she's 15 and very annoying. Basically, a brat. Her sister is a fanatic about music, but Leah couldn't care less. She mocks her sister constantly. So when Leah finds herself back in time a year later and drafted into a role on a musical sit-com where's she's expected to sing and dance, this girl is definitely out of her element.

Leah's interests lie squarely on the sports field and in a certain hunky soccer player from a neighboring school. But she hasn't garnered the courage to make a move on him yet, because Leah's not much of a risk taker. She's grown up with a natural athletic ability that's allowed her to skate through life without taking chances. If she wants to win the attention of Brennan Basford, she has to up her game, and learn to show a softer side, a vulnerable side. Leah's tough and she's strong, and she doesn't believe in going home in second place, but in the game of love, she's got a lot to learn.

From the Back Cover

Nothing Stays the Same (Soul Mates Book 2) (Coming in 2015)

Time Changes Everything...

In 1973, The Beat Detectors are the hottest TV pop band to hit the airwaves since The Monkees, thanks to the appealing vocals of rising teen idol Ronnie Basford. But behind the scenes, not everything is rainbows and unicorns. Ronnie realizes much too late that one bad decision can ruin your whole life.

Forty years later, Ronnie is dead from an apparent suicide and his sixteen-year-old son Brennan wants answers. All his life Brennan's never seen his father happy and needs to understand how it all went so wrong. When he finds himself dropped back in time, to the set of his father's TV show, he's determined to redirect the course of his father's life and create the happy ending Ronnie deserved.

Soccer star Leah Reinard has been crushing on Brennan Basford for ages. When they end up at the same summer job, she thinks the fates have finally aligned in her favor. That is, until Brennan suddenly disappears from existence. One day he's there, the next day, he's gone. And no one but Leah even remembers him. Soon after, it's clear that whatever took Brennan is causing numerous other changes to Leah's world. Bad changes. Changes that Brennan can't possibly foresee.

Can Leah find Brennan in time to stop him from ruining both their futures?

The Last Word

Thank you so much for having me. And, oh yes, I love to hear from readers!!!!

You can find me online at my website (where you can sign up for my newsletter - newsletter subscribers hear everything first and are eligible for freebies, sneak peeks and other fun things!) Of course, I’m also on Facebook and on Twitter.

About Catherine:  Catherine Chant is a PRO member of the Romance Writers of America (RWA) and a Golden Heart® finalist. She writes rock ‘n’ roll romantic fiction and stories with paranormal twists for young adults. She is currently working on a new young adult suspense novel, and the next book in her Soul Mates series.