Fisher Amelie's Blog, page 7

At the time, twenty-one year old Fisher Amelie was but a mere bank teller for Wells Fargo Bank, though a veteran at that. Settled inside a local grocery store in Arlington, Texas, she was one of five college attendees, working toward their degree. Her branch was known as 'The Barbie Branch'. Five nineteen to twenty-two year olds, all thin, all beautiful, all goofy as hell. These girls would do outrageous things and handle outrageous customers day to day but at the end of those days, they were but normal girls looking to date nice boys and build nice lives.

Tom Thumb, an upscale market that catered to a wealthier crowd, would have given anyone the impression that these young, beautiful girls would have the pick of the litter, so to speak, and, for the most part, this was true but these girls were deeper than most incorrectly assumed. And as each one fell into a genuine love, a year would pass and each would begin an engagement, trudging toward a path of families and homes. All except one.

Fisher Amelie.

Yes, she was a bit rougher around the edges than her Barbie-esque counterparts. She didn't sport the blonde hair that most of her colleagues did, save for Sheria, the funniest, most beautiful African-American woman to grace her presence but that was okay. She fit in with everyone despite her Led Zepplin tees and black bracelets, her torn jeans, and scuffed Converse. She was Fisher Amelie, friend extraordinaire but also the girl who pined away for 'Shaggy'.

The girls would tease and joke with Fisher about the stock boy who not only looked like Shaggy from Scooby Doo but walked like him as well, his arms swinging droopily with each hurried step he took. "Here comes Shaggy, Velma," they'd josh, prodding her in the ribs. Fisher would go red in the face every single time he walked by with a two fingered salute toward the ladies she shared a teller line with but he seemed unaffected by her, too busy with his job to bother getting to know any of the girls better. To him, she assumed, they were but 'the wave by' sort, making her stomach drop at the mere thought.

As you can probably guess, working in a grocery store, the girls would take turns day to day, getting amazing snacks to share across the teller lines. They were teenagers. They could eat cupcakes by the dozen and it wouldn't even make a dent. Jerks. Anyway, one day, after months of 'waves' and a stinging face, Fisher headed toward Dairy. It was Yoplait Whips day and Fisher was the retriever. So, she grabbed her debit card and made way to the yogurt aisle.

But no! It can't be! He's there! Just there! Stocking the very yogurt she was assigned to purchase. Score! She thought.

Fisher stood a bit taller than her usual five foot eight. She straightened out her black skirt, combed her fingers through her black hair, and patted everything that had a possibility of being out of place back into it. She was ready.

"Hi," she said cheerfully as she made her way to a stocking Shaggy. She smiled at him as she approached the section but he didn't respond, just stared at his hands as they lifted tiny yogurt containers and placed them on shelves. She lingered by him a moment. He'll look, she thought. Any second now, he'll acknowledge her. He'll look up in just a moment. But nothin' doin'. Fisher felt a sting of hurt drop to her stomach. Rejected.

Surely, he'd heard her. There was no way he couldn't have. He was choosing to ignore her! Fine, she thought. What a jerk! Fisher snatched her yogurts and made way for the check out lines. Mortified and too embarrassed to tell her girlfriends and teller-mates, Fisher pretended nothing happened. Weeks, months, passed and she was resigned in forgetting him. She needed to stop obsessing about the boy who couldn't even bother saying hello. She knew he wasn't mute, she'd seen him talking to a few of his own colleagues, that idiot.

On Friday and Saturday nights, as musician or aficionado, Fisher either played with the bands in Dallas' Deep Ellum or listened to their shows. She lived and breathed local music.

Never in the practice of walking alone in a sketchy part of Dallas, if Fisher wasn't riding with friends, she would ring a pal and they would meet her and walk her to whatever club she planned to attend. But one particular weekend, her cell phone had died and she was forced to walk from her parking spot alone without a friend to escort her. She'd decided that since it was the weekend of the biggest Dallas music festival that year, coupled with the sheer number of police presence, she'd be okay. She just had to get to the club. She'd also heard somewhere that when you walked with purpose, people tended to leave you be so that's exactly what she did. She walked with naive fury to The Curtain Club and refused to stop for anyone.

"Hey!" He said but she didn't hear. She was focused. "Hey!!" He said, louder, chasing after her a bit but Fisher only walked faster.

Doesn't she know it's dangerous to walk by yourself in this part of Deep Ellum? Shaggy thought, as he watched her make a beeline for Curtain. Don't I know her? She looks so familiar.

Fisher made it to Curtain, met her girlfriends and walked over to the parking lot of Blind Lemon, where the festival's main stage just happened to be.

"Hey," she heard behind her. "Hey," a guy said again, demanding her attention. She whipped her head around and saw the unmistakable form of Shaggy the Stocker. Tall, long, lean. Hello, jerk, she thought.

"Hey, I know you, right? You work at Wells Fargo?"

"Yeah, that's me," she said, barely struggling with the smile she was forcing.

"I work there, at Tom Thumb."

"Yeah, I've seen you around," she confessed.

"I saw you walking alone earlier. I tried to get your attention but you didn't hear me, I guess. It's dangerous out here, ya know."

"Yeah, my phone is dead. Usually Brian would come get me." Like he knew who Brian was.

"That's cool," he admitted. "Who are you here to see?"

"I'm here for The Feds. I used to date the bassist."

"Oh, that's cool. That's my brother's band on stage, the drummer," he said, pointing toward what was now blindingly obvious was his brother. He opened his mouth, ready to ask her something but someone grabbed his shoulder. There was a guy, standing beside him, seemingly seven foot tall and uninterested in bothering with her. "Oh, this is my friend Nick," Shaggy offered.

"You ready to go?" Nick asked, barely noticing her.

"Yeah," Shaggy answered. "See you around?" He asked her.

"Sure," she said, not being in the least bit honest.

"I'd offer my cell but since yours is dead…Anyway, if you need someone to walk you to your car, I'll just be at Trees," he said, pointing across the street. "Come find me."

"Okay," she said to appease him but she had no intention of doing so.

She wanted nothing to do with him. Yet something about him struck her as kind and down to earth. She didn't want to think of him that way. She wanted to hold on to the fact that he snubbed her. She didn't want to think that she might have been, probably was, a tad bit oversensitive and perhaps he hadn't heard her after all in Dairy, just as she hadn't heard him earlier that night.

Fisher didn't think about him again…at all…that weekend. She didn't obsess over his gentlemanly offer or the fact that he seemed too laid back to have truly snubbed her. In fact, she didn't think about him that following Monday either when she discovered he wasn't at work. Or that Tuesday, when he was missing as well.

But come Wednesday, she was done attempting to convince herself that she wasn't thinking about him. She embraced her newly found obsession and handed over control to her heart. That's the day he showed up with his two-finger salute. He was going to talk to her today, she just knew it. Two hours had passed, three, four, five and she was approaching the end of her shift yet he still hadn't come over to say hi.

"Oh well," she thought. "Time to come to terms with it."

That weekend, she met her friends again in Deep Ellum, saw a few amazing bands and wouldn't admit to anyone just how much she was shocked to see Shaggy in the streets yet again.

"Fancy meetin' you here," he joked.

"Hello," she offered, her heart beating wildly in her chest. Traitorous heart.

"What are you doing right now?" He asked her.

"I'm going to Franzini's with my friend Karen and a few others." (Hilarious story but for another day)

"Oh, that's cool. Well, if you want, we'll all be at the Velvet Hookah, if you want to join us later."

"Uh," she said, taken aback, "That's cool, maybe next time?"

"Yeah, see you around," he said, squeezing her shoulder, sending an unbelievable warmth cascading down her arm.

And it was like that every time she ran in to him, he was always busy, always surrounded by friends, and always inviting her to tag along. She refused him repeatedly, got over her crush (kind of) and moved on (sort of).

Until one day…

"Fisher! Come with me! What are you doing right now?"

"I'm off to Trees."

"No, you're not! You're coming with me. You always blow me off," he joked. "It's time you saw my brother's band again, really see them."

So she caved and joined him at The Curtain Club to see his brother play.

There, he introduced her to a girl with a tattooed chest plate that would rival Kat Von D and the girl made no effort to conceal how much she liked him but, surprisingly, he brushed her off like he'd done so many others so many times before. The next night, on the way to Blind Lemon, a girl jumped into his arms in greeting, sending Fisher walking toward their club without him. He said nothing of it.

That's when she realized, she was Shaggy's friend. Just his friend.

And that seemed to be okay with her. She was seemingly over her crush. She was Shaggy's friend. Yeah, she was okay with that.

At the movies, there was no hand holding, no touching, just hilarious conversation. When he introduced her to his mom, it was 'Mom, this is my friend Fisher' and when she met his friends, the same, 'Guys, meet Fisher'.

The Friday Night

Things were no different. Fisher and Shaggy would retreat to his room, his door left open because she wasn't that kind of girl, *wink, wink*, something was blasting on the stereo, probably Staind, because their musical taste seemed lacking in retrospect, and they began their millionth conversation since their friendship began, one that would keep any one in stitches.

They were lounging on the floor, Fisher on her back, her ankle on her knee, twisting her hair in circles and Shaggy, flipping through one of his school books, complaining about one of his professors. It was business as usual in Shaggy's room and Fisher was comfortable with where things were at…maybe, sort of, not really.

Fisher opened her mouth to offer Shaggy some sort of encouraging support regarding said professor or perhaps she had a question. She doesn't remember but she does remember being forced to stop mid-sentence…when Shaggy's lips met hers.

Surprised, she sat up and pushed Shaggy off. "What are you doing!" She asked, shocked.

"Kissing you?" He said, shrugging his shoulders, his face painted the brightest red. His hands sat beside him, unsure what to do.

"But I thought – I thought we were friends!" She stupidly blurted. Her heart pounded. Her mouth, dry.

"We are," he offered coolly. avoiding eye contact. His fingers threaded the carpet beneath him. "But I've wanted more." He told her, meeting her eyes again. "Since I first laid eyes on you, months ago."

This couldn't be, she thought. After all the heart ache, all this obsessing over whether or not he was into her, then deciding he wasn't, then accepting his friendship. After all the confusing, let's hang out but I won't give you a clue as to how I really feel. After wanting so badly for this very moment…she was botching it up!!!!!!!

Everything she'd locked up those last few months came spilling out at her feet. All her true feelings came back in a rush. She grabbed his face and finished what he'd started.

She was in love with Shaggy and he was in love with her.

Later, Shaggy would tell her that he'd been biding his time. That he wanted her so badly he wasn't willing to mess it up by moving too fast. He told her he thought her the most beautiful girl he'd ever met….that she still was.

Nine years later. A ring. A house. A dog. A fish…And one very, very beautiful little boy later. She sits here. Telling you a very small tip of her wonderful story.

To Shaggy. My hand fits perfectly in yours…because God put it there.

The Gambler by fun. on Grooveshark

Slow down,

we've got time left to be lazy

All the kids have bloomed from babies into flowers in our eyes.

We've got 50 good years left to spend out in the garden

I don't care to beg your pardon,

We should live until we die.

We were barely 18 when we'd crossed collective hearts.

It was cold, but it got warm when you'd barely crossed my eye.

and then you turned, put out your hand,

and you asked me to dance.

I knew nothing of romance, but it was love at second sight.

I swear when I grow up, I won't just buy you a rose.

I will buy the flower shop, and you will never be lonely.

Even if the sun stops waking up over the fields

I will not leave, I will not leave 'til it's our time.

So just take my hand, you know that I will never leave your side.

It was the winter of '86, and all the fields had frozen over.

So we moved to Arizona to save our only son

and now he's turning to a man, although he thinks just like his mother,

he believes we're all just lovers he sees hope in everyone.

And even though she moved away,

we always get calls from our daughter.

She has eyes just like her father's

they are blue when skies are grey.

And just like him, she never stops,

Never takes the day for granted,

works for everything that's handed to her,

Never once complains.

You think that I nearly lost you

When the doctors tried to take you away.

But like the night you took my hand beside the fire

30 years ago to this day

You swore you'd be here 'til we decide that it's our time

Well it's not time, you've never quit in all your life.

So just take my hand, you know that I'll never leave your side.

You're the love of my life, you know that I'll never leave your side.

You come home from work and you kiss me on the eye

You curse the dogs and say that I should never feed them what is ours

So we move out to the garden, look at everything we've grown

and the kids are coming home

I'll set the table

You can make the fire.

So many first kisses…so little time. Visit these wonderful Plumes and hear their lovely stories.

 

February 1st Abbi Glines

February 2nd Tiffany King


February 3rd Shelly Crane


February 5th Amy Jones


February 6th Addison Moore


February 7th Carol & Adam Kunz


February 8th Courtney Cole


February 9th Nichole Chase


February 10th Fisher Amelie


February 12th Laura A.H. Elliott


February 13th Michelle Muto


February 14th Michelle Leighton 

Let's hear your own wonderful stories! Don't be shy! Shout it from the roof tops…or my blog comments box! Either way…

 

 

Okay, so let's just get this out right off the bat. I LOVE TRAILERS. Love them. Love. Not sure if it's the unexplored filmmaker in me or what. I just can't get enough of them. BUT! The question is: To trailer or not to trailer?

Alright, so, what's the answer. I only wish it were that simple. In my opinion, trailers don't sell books. They just don't but if you looked at it from a purely sales point of view, than this post would stop right here because it would be pointless to continue. But let's explore what trailers can offer.

An author is more than their work. I know that sounds ludicrous but their words are only ninety-five percent of who they really are. That trailing five percent can be distributed throughout their social networks, blogs, images and all around persona. We have to think of ourselves as a product…meaning, we have to market ourselves as if we were tangible. From tag lines, to personality, to websites, to…trailers, the idea of who we are as authors are represented by not only personal appearances but also our online presence.

Which brings me to my next point. As an author, I feel trailers are extremely important for my readers' all around reading experience. Nowadays, kids need digital interaction. It's why all my books have playlists, why all my books have trailers, and why you can find me on Facebook, Twitter, or Goodreads with a click of a button. They eat the stuff up. (I would be remiss if I didn't mention that I do as well.) Reading isn't just about the words anymore for the youth, it's about the experience.

From a marketing aspect,  trailers are like little digital promos that help lift your books to the next level. People are going to remember you better when you add a killer cover, killer online persona, and killer trailer to your killer book. It's a volatile mix and sets you apart from your competitors.

Right now, my current trailer for my recently released book, Callum & Harper, is in production. It's a huge production, actually. More than I think is necessary but I know some people who know some people, etc. and it just happened to work out in my favor. I'll post a link to my director's stuff in a moment to let you in on the sheer talent behind this thing but what I really want to point out is that huge productions are totally and utterly unnecessary.

In fact, I think simplicity is best. Not everyone knows directors of award winning short films and not everyone has an eye for video production (Save for Abbi Glines. Tee hee.) Actually, I think it's pretty rare to see a well done author trailer. I can't lie. I've seen some pretty bad trailers…even by huge name authors. That's why, when authors don't have a lot of money for a trailer budget, they should spend it on just two things. Professional music and videos from stock sites. My trailer for The Understorey above cost me approximately fifty bucks but I own the rights to use the video and song and I will never be sought after for copyright infringement. (Piracy sucks, people. Sucks. Authors know a bit about this.) Plus, the songs and the videos are PROFESSIONALLY DONE.

There's no reason to whip out the video camera and shakily record the neighbor boy and neighbor girl as they walk down the street holding hands. Unless you have a great camera, don't bother because it'll just look like you made it at home…and ya' did! Plus, it's more work! We don't make money off our trailers so we might as well make it easy on ourselves, right? Right.

So! To trailer or not to trailer? My answer is: Trailer! With a few stipulations.

p.s. Here's one of the amazing videos my director did recently.

Come see what's new at the Carnival this week!

The rest of my Indie cast are all awaiting your beautiful eyes. So go…

The Amazing Dani Snell

The Incredible Patti Larsen

The Talented Courtney Cole

The Witty Wren Emerson

The Accomplished Nicole Williams

The Clever Laura Elliott

The Skillful Amy Jones

The Staggering P.J. Hoover

The Brilliant Alicia McCalla

The Resplendent Heather Cashman

The Lustrous Abbi Glines

The Polished Cheri Schmidt

The Inventive Cidney Swanson

The Radiant Rachel Coles

The Gifted T.R. Graves

The Phenomenal Cyndi Tefft

The Lovely Lexus Luke

The Sassy Suzy Turner

The Exceptional Gwenn Wright

The Stupendous Kimberly Kinrade

The Quick J.L. Bryan

The Saucy Darby Karchut

The Magnificent M. Leighton

The Impressive Madeline Smoot

 

Today, I sat opposite John Bell from Callum & Harper and barely escaped with my life. This is him, here. Don't let appearances fool you. His angelic features aren't exactly what they seem…they're truly of the fallen variety.

This is our first and last conversation…ever. I was a fool to do it even once.

"Hello, Miss Amelie," John tells me, a slight grin gracing his lips. "Nice gun."

"What did you expect, John?" I asked him.

"You think that would stop me?" He said, laughing. "The only reason I don't own you right now is because I choose to play this game."

"In any case, Mister Bell, this stays here," I tell him, patting the shiny black pistol in my lap.

John eyed me wearily. "Hmm…"

"What?" I ask, fingering the trigger of the gun in my lap.

"I just never noticed it before but you're built a little like Harper."

I fought to keep my hands from shivering. "I'm not. I'm taller," I said, taking up a fool's argument.

"That may be but the shape of your figure, Fisher," he said, lids hooded, "just.like.Harper."

The use of my name made my jaw tremble and I eyed the distance to the door, gauging how quickly I could get away without incident. I was interrupted by maniacal laughing.

"You wouldn't get away," he told me, reading my thoughts. He leaned into me, forcing me to shrink into the back of my chair.

I took a deep breath. "Why not, John?" I whispered.

"Because I'm not done with you yet."

"You're done when I say you're done," I told him more confident than I really was, polishing the handle of my weapon, desperately trying to keep myself in check.

"Right. You're in charge here. Tell me, Fisher, are we done here?"

I gulped audibly. "No, I, uh, I wanted to ask you a few questions."

"Ask away," he said in a deceptively friendly manner, letting his body fall slack against the back of his chair. His hand lifted, making me start. He laughed as he scratched his shoulder.

"Uh-Um….," I fumbled with my words. "Why?"

"Why, what?"

"Why this obsession with Harper?"

At the mention of her name, a breath whooshed from his lungs, a lazy smile plastered against his mouth, his eyes closed completely. He opened them abruptly and stared coldly into my eyes, evidence of his once satisfied expression gone.

"Harper is most extraordinary," he offered, as if that explained everything.

"She is but she isn't yours, John," I told him, playing with the ultimate fire.

"She is!" He bellowed, smacking his hands down hard on the table between us. I jumped, my chair sliding back slightly at his exclamation.

"She isn't," I goaded him.

"She.Is." He gritted between his teeth. He stood, looming over me and placing his palms flat on the table. "She is mine and I'll kill whoever stands in my way. Do you understand that, Fisher? Do you know how far I'm willing to go to own her?"

"Y-yes," I stuttered. "I'm acutely aware, John, but she isn't property to own."

His big body fell back into his chair, all his earlier ire vanished in an instant, the smile returning to his deceiving face. "Agree to disagree."

"Where are the other girls, John?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said, his blossoming smile saying otherwise.

I changed direction. "Harper asked me about you the other day."

My eyes were trained on my lap but when I lifted them, he was staring daggers.

His body shot up in his chair, his hands trembling on the table top. "She did?" He swiped his hands down his face in anticipation. "What did she want to know?"

"She asked me where I thought you put those girls. She wanted to know 'why them'?"

"She asked that? What did you tell her?" He asked, more vulnerable than I ever anticipated he could appear.

John was a dichotomous monster. One moment, he was cool, calm, collected and calculated. The next, a fumbling fool with all the appearance that he was in love…but an obsessed love, a dangerously obsessed love.

"I told her I didn't know where but I was sure why. That devastated her. She hated knowing that she indirectly caused those women harm."

"Did you tell her she made me do it?!" He roared, shoving his chair behind him. I gripped the pistol in my lap. "She made me!" He huffed, his neck and face growing a deep red. He was ready to blow. "She made me! All I ever wanted was Harper warm in my bed. That's all I ever wanted." He took deep, unsteady breaths. "She was supposed to be mine," he said out loud to no one. His eyes lifted and focused on nothing, obviously unaware I was still in the room. "She was mine. Supposed to be mine…"

I quietly picked myself up from my chair, and walked tall to the front door, all the while listening to a psychotically repeated 'Mine'.

Come see what's new at the Carnival this week!

The rest of my Indie cast are all awaiting your beautiful eyes. So go…

The Amazing Dani Snell

The Incredible Patti Larsen

The Talented Courtney Cole

The Witty Wren Emerson

The Accomplished Nicole Williams

The Clever Laura Elliott

The Skillful Amy Jones

The Staggering P.J. Hoover

The Brilliant Alicia McCalla

The Resplendent Heather Cashman

The Lustrous Abbi Glines

The Polished Cheri Schmidt

The Inventive Cidney Swanson

The Radiant Rachel Coles

The Gifted T.R. Graves

The Phenomenal Cyndi Tefft

The Lovely Lexus Luke

The Sassy Suzy Turner

The Exceptional Gwenn Wright

The Stupendous Kimberly Kinrade

The Quick J.L. Bryan

The Saucy Darby Karchut

The Magnificent M. Leighton

The Impressive Madeline Smoot

 

Reading is my most favorite thing in the world…next to writing that is. There is nothing else that can spur the imagination like beautiful words strung together. They're like a diamond necklace dangling off a page. All you want to do is run your itchy fingers over their smooth beauty, over their shiny, appealing, singing sparkle.

I simply don't know how anyone can write well without reading.

"If you don't have time to read, you don't have the time (or the tools) to write." – Stephen King

Case in point. The guy may know a little bit about this whole writing gig I like to claim we share. Presumptuous, I know, but that's a writer's prerogative. And proof that most writer's are a bit on the loopy side. Again, our prerogative. That pic is proof enough, I think. *wink wink*

Anyway, if I were to put into words what reading teaches me as a writer, I'd have to convey to you several key points.

One, it creates an imagination I wouldn't have been capable of otherwise. Words are more powerful than visuals. Period. For instance, I can name two scenes from film and television right now off the top of my head that spoke to me deeply this year. But…I can name at least twenty, yes, twenty different scenes from books I've read throughout my entire life that have stuck with me and I can describe these scenes to you without hesitation and in great detail. And when you feel compelled by something of that nature, the brain goes wild with it, doesn't it? Going off on tangents that could have only been inspired by words on a page. Nothing does that for me like reading does. (Save for music but that's another post entirely.)

Two, it improves the vocabulary exponentially. Reading does for the vocabulary what wax does for my legs. Smooths the edges, removes the unwanted, makes it attractive. I know, what a metaphor! It's not three a.m. where you are, is it Fisher? Why no, Fisher, it isn't! Good, let's continue then. Alright. Vocab. It improves with reading. E.g. advances, ameliorates, amends, augments, betters,boosts, civilizes, comes around, convalesces,corrects, cultivates, develops, doctors up, edits, elevates, emends, enhances, gains ground, helps,increases, lifts, look ups, makes strides, meliorates,mends, perks up, picks up, polishes, progresses,promotes, purifies, raises, rallies, recovers, rectifies,recuperates, refines, reforms, revamps, revises, rises,

sets right, shapes up, sharpens, skyrockets,straightens out, takes off, touches up, turns the corner, updates, upgrades.

There, I think that covers it.

Three, it creates transcendence through an all around knowledge. Reading introduces ideas to you that your mind or your environment can't limit you by and, whoa, is it an amazing high to learn something you'd never thought of before or felt something you'd never dreamed you would. It blows the mind. To rise above your last intellectual layer and peer down at the old you is quite inspiring. Watch out, though. It's addicting. All you'll want to do afterwards is shed the old layers for the new, improved ones.

And all you have to do is pick up a book.

Come see what's new at the Carnival this week!

The rest of my Indie cast are all awaiting your beautiful eyes. So go…

The Amazing Dani Snell

The Incredible Patti Larsen

The Talented Courtney Cole

The Witty Wren Emerson

The Accomplished Nicole Williams

The Clever Laura Elliott

The Skillful Amy Jones

The Staggering P.J. Hoover

The Brilliant Alicia McCalla

The Resplendent Heather Cashman

The Lustrous Abbi Glines

The Polished Cheri Schmidt

The Inventive Cidney Swanson

The Radiant Rachel Coles

The Gifted T.R. Graves

The Phenomenal Cyndi Tefft

The Lovely Lexus Luke

The Sassy Suzy Turner

The Exceptional Gwenn Wright

The Stupendous Kimberly Kinrade

The Quick J.L. Bryan

The Saucy Darby Karchut

The Magnificent M. Leighton

The Impressive Madeline Smoot

 

Look what came in the mail today!

It's my pleasure to welcome Cidney Swanson to my blog today. Cidney's last book in The Ripple Series, Unfurl, is available for purchase now! So when you're done reading her fabulous guest post, follow the links below to get yourself a copy!

Against all expectations, Samantha Ruiz has survived attacks by two of Helmann's deadliest assassins. She's alive, but she's far from safe. Helmann is planning a second Holocaust and wants Sam to play a starring role. Will, meanwhile, separated from Sam by an ocean, seeks a way to prevent Helmann's apocalypse. Along with Sir Walter and Mickie, Will plays a deadly game sneaking into Geneses' facilities, discovering unsettling clues as to Helmann's plans. The clock ticks down as Will and Sam discover just how much they must be willing to sacrifice to stop Helmann. UNFURL, the powerful conclusion to The Ripple Series, will leave fans breathless.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oooooh! Ominous! And fabulous all at the same time!!!! Can't wait! So, without further ado, Miss Cidney Swanson!

Welcome, Cidney!

Hey! I'm so thrilled to be visting Fisher's site today as part of my fab Unfurl Tour!

The best morals kids get from any book is just the capacity to empathize with other people, to care about the characters and their feelings. So you don't have to write a preachy book to do that. You just have to make it a fun book with characters they care about, and they will become better people as a result. –Louis Sachar

Does reading make you a better person? Honestly, I don't know. But what Sachar writes about readers empathizing with characters strikes me as very deeply true. As a kid, I read for many reasons. Early on, I read for fun and for the sheer delight of words side by side on a page. As I grew older, I read so I could learn about kids who lived far away from me, in space or time.

These reasons continued to be important as I hit my teen years, but another reason became even more important: I read to "try on" what it was like to be brave or broken-hearted. Famous or forgotten. Victorious over impossible odds. What would it be like to be part of a large family? Or to be orphaned? How would I survive with Nazgûl or the Cauldron-Born exhaling their reeking breath upon me?

So, to what Sachar said, I would add that reading increases our capacity for courage.

Even as an adult, when I read about those who suffer and then rise with valor, it makes me consider that maybe I can act with bravery. If Harry Potter could knowingly walk to meet Lord Voldemort and his own death, then maybe I can walk towards some of my darker fears.

And, like Harry, I don't have to do it alone. Harry took his friends and family with him. Do you know who I take? I bring Harry alongside me. And Dobby. And Frodo and Sam. And Katniss. And Peeta and Prim. And hundreds of other brave, true friends who are no less real to me because they're imaginary.

A writer could do this in any genre. I don't doubt it for a moment. But Young Adult literature seems to be especially rich in providing for readers: characters who (a) grow and change through (b) adventures often unenviable and which (c) end in a place of hope.

And that is what keeps me reading YA.

As a writer of YA, here is what I wish for you, my readers: I hope you will find courage from the pages of a book and make that courage your own; I want you to discover compassion for those not like you; and most of all, for those of you in pain, I want you to find friends who will stand beside you in moments of darkness and whisper to you, "It'll be okay. I'm here with you. I understand."

 

Wow! That was utterly insightful! Thank you so much for being here, Cidney! What an absolute pleasure! You're welcome back any time if your guest posts are anything remotely like what you've written here!

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Today's YA Indie Carnival Blog is all about New Year's Resolutions. Pay attention, folks, because I'm about to announce mine and you won't want to miss this.

I, Fisher Amelie, hereby resolve not to boss people around anymore.

I know, I know. But why, Fisher? You're so good at it. I know, you guys, I am very good at it but I've decided it's no longer viable when all I have to offer anymore is my personality. In other words, nobody likes a bossy pants.

Anyway, in order to get this resolution rolling, I've decided to flush my system with this little bossy ditty:

New Year's Eve is one of those holidays we all enjoy. From young to old, we all like a few fizzy drinks whether they be in root beer or in champagne and we all love to stay up late. It's the perfect holiday.

But it's definitely one of those holidays that follow a very fine line between 'cool' and 'so not cool'.

So, here's a small list of things not to do that eventful night.

5) Don't wear anything that can be considered a threat to national security. This includes anything made of spandex, Polyester blends, anything that needs to be 'sewn' onto you, literally and figuratively, anything that can cause someone to say,'I've got the most delicious blackmail fodder' when they take a pic of you and last but not least, no lingerie needs to be worn on the outside of your clothing or as a substitute of said clothing. This applies to both women and men. I'm speaking through experience, people. Very.Unfortunate.Experience.

4) Old fogies, stop forcing black eyed peas down our young throats. Seriously, traditions are supposed to be fun, amazing things not an excuse to get your kids to eat their vegetables. It will not bring us good luck in our financial fortunes, it will only give us gas. No one wants that. No one.

3) Inebriated men, please do not remove your clothing in attempts to recapture some ridiculous past youthful indiscretion. Streaking is no longer funny after the age of twenty-five and sometimes not even then. What's the rule? Those who couldstreak, don't. Those who shouldn't, do. That's not a rule? Well, it should be.

2) Inebriated women, please do not dance on tables. Try to remember that you wouldn't even do that sober let alone a bit on the schnockered side.  I can't tell you how many America's Funniest Videos I've seen of women dancing with that oh-so-precious 'Aren't I amazing and beautiful?' questioning looks on their faces right before they heave-ho into the floor beneath them. It ain't a pretty sight, especially if they've worn a skirt. Hey-oh!!!

1) I saved the best for last. Please don't drink and drive. It's stupid. And why they invented taxis. It's also a sure fire way to spend a night in jail, possibly ruining someone else's life as well as your own, depending on how lucky you get when you're out careening the highways like a nincompoop. In other words, be 'oh so cool' and hand the keys over to a designated driver or arrange to stay the night wherever you're drinking. Everybody loves a slumber party! You can have pancakes in the morning. See? Fun.

Thanks so much, everyone! Happy New Year! Stay safe out there! Love you!

Fisher

Come see what's new at the Carnival this week!

The rest of my Indie cast are all awaiting your beautiful eyes. So go…

The Amazing Dani Snell

The Incredible Patti Larsen

The Talented Courtney Cole

The Witty Wren Emerson

The Accomplished Nicole Williams

The Clever Laura Elliott

The Skillful Amy Jones

The Staggering P.J. Hoover

The Brilliant Alicia McCalla

The Resplendent Heather Cashman

The Lustrous Abbi Glines

The Polished Cheri Schmidt

The Inventive Cidney Swanson

The Radiant Rachel Coles

The Gifted T.R. Graves

The Phenomenal Cyndi Tefft

The Lovely Lexus Luke

The Sassy Suzy Turner

The Exceptional Gwenn Wright

The Stupendous Kimberly Kinrade

The Quick J.L. Bryan

The Saucy Darby Karchut

The Magnificent M. Leighton

The Impressive Madeline Smoot

 

Everyone, let's welcome a most wonderful author to the blog…Miss Tiffany King!!!! 

Tiffany King is a graduate of Daytona State College, in Daytona Beach, Florida. A teacher by day and book fanatic the rest of the time, she is now pursuing her life-long dream as an author. She has a loving husband and two wonderful kids. (Four, if you count her two spoiled cats). "Books provide the ultimate getaway for me. A good story is a vehicle that takes you to another place, another time, or another world. I love reading the words and letting my imagination do the rest. I appreciate and respect every author who has the courage to put your work out there for the world to see."

 

 

 

1. Miss King, tell us about a few things you got for Christmas but don't mention the actual name, just describe it to us and we'll try to guess what they are in the comments. A game of sorts. Be vague.

It's pink and protects something I have decided I can't live without (okay I know I can't live without it LOL) 

2. What sparked the idea for The Saving Angels Series?
Giving my daughter a romance story she would fall in love with. Hunky guys was just a perk hehehe.


3. Which character do you relate most to in your series?
I am the most like Krista. I embarrass easily and blush at the drop of a hat (It's a curse).


4. You have five nesting dolls, each one represents a book that has molded you. In which order would the titles go, starting with the smallest doll?
Where the Red Fern Grows, The Outsiders, Tiger Eyes, Twilight Saga & of course the big one The Harry Potter Series.


5. Zombie Apocalypse is approaching, you have only a few hours to prepare. Taking the authors in The Paranormal Plumes Society, form your army and their positions/talents. Go. LOL! Can't wait for this one. (You are going 'zombie' after this book, right? p.s. "That'll do, pig.")
M. Leighton–Responsible for helping us escape, Carol & Adam Kunz—-Weapon Coordinators, Abbi Glines—–Keeping us sane,
Amy Jones, Courtney Cole, Shelly Crane—–Badass zombie killers, Michelle Muto, Nichole Chase——Zombie hunters, Laura Elliot——Searching for a cure, Fisher Amelie——-searches for survivors, and me—-still looking for the perfect ax.


6. Plotter or Pantser? And why?
Plotter in the aspect I have an idea of where I want the story to go, Panster because I let the story lead the way.


7. Would you rather swim with sharks or scale a two hundred foot rock formation with no rigging? Why?
Rocks hands down, frikin' sharks scare the beeswax out of me!!!!


8. You, at this very hour, in fifty years. Where will you be??
By my husband's side


9. Mark and Krista. Would they ever get tattoos of each other's names?
Heck no but they would get a tattoo of a secret code word that means something special to both of them (If you're wondering. yes I have a tattoo like that)

Lightning Round

Peanut Butter or Jelly? Jelly: I'm allergic to peanuts (boo) :(

White or Milk Chocolate? Milk Chocolate baby–double yum yum

The Sun or The Moon? The Moon. I should have been a vampire

Amazon or Barnes & Noble? (Ooooh, scandalous) Amazon (I can't help it I love them lotso).

Wrapping Paper or Bags? Bags…..Okay because I'm lazy plus my wrapping skills are crap-i-olio.

Home or Adventure? Both. Home is fabulous with my family but adventure is also fab under the same circumstances

Thanks a bunch Fisher!!!! Your questions were a hoot and almost as fantastic as you

The Ascended is the final installment of The Saving Angels Trilogy. With Krista's life in turmoil, she is now struggling with the responsibilities that have been passed down to her. With the help of Haniel and her friends, Krista risks everything, including her soul, to march into the den of the Dark Angel. Their only chance for survival is for Krista to find the courage to accept the new role that fate has bestowed upon her, even if it means losing her loved ones forever.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Amazon Links:

Meant to Be
Forgotten Souls
The Ascended


Tiffany King
Author of The Saving Angels series


http://www.authortiffany.wordpress.com
Meant to Be
Forgotten Souls 

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Thank you for being here, T! Your answers were so much fun! I loved having you! p.s. See you in January!! Woot! Woot!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Alright, so I have been crazy swamped lately what with the tour and all that jazz and am totally late on this post but all I can do is ask for your forgiveness.

Alright, so today's post is COVER LOVE!

I'm going to post a few pics of some of my favorite Indie covers!

Madly by M. Leighton

It's the colors. The ethereal lights. It's amazing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Shattered by Sophia Sharp

It's the mystery. And the gown. Love that gown.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Smokeless Fire by Samantha young

She looks a bit like Natalie Umbruglia, right? LOL! I just noticed this. Anyway, again, the colors. Dreamy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Accordance by Shelly Crane

Again, dreamy. I suppose I love the celestial quality to it. Very appropriate.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ooooooh! And just because! Here's the vid of The Paranormal Plumes Society's covers that we showed our audience on the Savannah Book Tour!

 

 

Come see what's new at the Carnival this week!

The rest of my Indie cast are all awaiting your beautiful eyes. So go…

The Amazing Dani Snell

The Incredible Patti Larsen

The Talented Courtney Cole

The Witty Wren Emerson

The Accomplished Nicole Williams

The Clever Laura Elliott

The Skillful Amy Jones

The Staggering P.J. Hoover

The Brilliant Alicia McCalla

The Resplendent Heather Cashman

The Lustrous Abbi Glines

The Polished Cheri Schmidt

The Inventive Cidney Swanson

The Radiant Rachel Coles

The Gifted T.R. Graves

The Phenomenal Cyndi Tefft

The Lovely Lexus Luke

The Sassy Suzy Turner

The Exceptional Gwenn Wright

The Stupendous Kimberly Kinrade

The Quick J.L. Bryan

The Saucy Darby Karchut

The Magnificent M. Leighton

The Impressive Madeline Smoot