The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 7)

The seventh installment in the Twelve Days of Stella, in which Stella asks Troy a question. If you missed the previous installments, here are the links:

• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 1)
• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 2)
• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 3)
• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 4)
• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 5)
• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 6)
  

---

Stella considered Troy’s statement. You can’t just ignore a passion. He was willing to face his family’s—and his ancestor god’s—disapproval to pursue the thing he loved the most.

Her mom had felt that way about painting.

Stella wasn’t sure she had that kind of passion. For anything.

“Or who knows,” Troy said with a laugh, interrupting her thoughts. “I’ll probably chicken out and go to med school anyway.”

“No.” She shook her head slowly. “I don’t think you will.”

Not when he cared enough to bring a live snake to the pantheon temple.

He studied her for a moment, and she could practically feel his confusion. What was he thinking? For a brief instant she was tempted to let herself into his thoughts, but she steeled her resolve.

“I guess we’ll see,” he finally said.

They fell into a silence. Troy gazed up at the painting of his ancestor god, with a miserable look on his face. Stella stared blankly at nothing in particular. Suddenly, more than anything, she wanted to know what her passion was. She would be going off to college in a few months, starting her adult life, and she had no idea what she wanted to do.

“How did you know?” she asked.

Troy looked at her. “Know what?”

“That you wanted to be a musician,” she explained. She tugged nervously at the hem of her shirt, then caught herself and pressed her hands against her thighs. “How did you know you didn’t want to be a doctor?”

“I don’t know,” he answered, unhelpfully. “I guess I’ve just always known. I’ve always turned to music as my escape when everything else seems impossible.”

Great. She couldn’t think of anything she viewed as an escape. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to have a passion. If she was, wouldn’t she have found it by now? Shouldn’t she at least have some clue by now?

“You heading home?” he asked, clearly oblivious to her deflating mood. “I’ll walk with you and pop in on Phoebe.”

She nodded and they headed out of the temple. They didn’t speak. Normally Stella would feel compelled to make small talk, to fill the awkward silence. But right now all she could think of was finding her passion. It seemed like everyone but her had a passion. Troy had his music. Phoebe had running. Daddy had the school. Her mom had had painting.

What did Stella have?

---

Tune in tomorrow for the next installment. [Part 8]

Hugs,
TLC

The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 6)

The sixth installment in the Twelve Days of Stella, in which Stella learns why Troy brought a snake to the temple. If you missed the previous installments, here are the links:

• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 1)
• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 2)
• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 3)
• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 4)
• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 5)
  

---

Stella prided herself on her ability to remain calm in every situation. Seeing that little green stripe of reptilian slime appear out of the bag tested her control to the limit. Ballet flats, she felt sure, were not a significant barrier against snake bites.

“Is that thing dangerous?” she asked, pleased that her voice remained steady.

“No way,” Troy replied. But he backed away quickly. “He’s grass snake.” The snake hissed and Troy jumped back. “Completely,” —he swallowed hard—“harmless.”

The snake, perhaps finding the stone floor too cold, slithered back into the bag.

“What are you doing with it?” she asked. “Just leaving it here?”

“No, I’m” —Troy took a step toward the bag—“sending him to Olympus. To Asklepios.”

Even though Troy couldn’t see her behind him, Stella nodded. The god of medicine was quite fond of snakes, just as Hera was fond of peacocks. Sending a god or goddess a favorite gift was a definite way to gain their favor. Since humans stopped worshipping the gods as deities, they didn’t receive nearly enough offerings to sustain their egos.

Stella watched as Troy held out his hands toward the snake-filled bag, a look of intense concentration on his face. His hands glowed. Then the bag disappeared, leaving the snake on the cold floor. Troy twisted his wrists and the snake floated gently into the air, toward the painting of Asklepios. For a moment the snake hovered before the serpent-wrapped staff of the medicine god. Then the snake merged into the mural and was gone.

Troy’s entire body sagged with relief.

“Why?” Stella asked.

He turned to face her, his cheeks flushed a deep pink she could see even in the faint light of the temple. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his cargo shorts before answering. “I’m ... asking a favor.”

A favor from the god of medicine?

“Is someone sick?” Stella didn’t know Troy well, but her stomach still turned at her next thought. “Are you sick?”

Troy’s eyes widened. “No, no. Nothing like that.” He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “It’s stupid,” he explained. “I shouldn’t have even wasted my time. Or,” —he nodded at the mural—“his.”

“I don’t think you would have gone to the effort of getting the snake if it was stupid.” Stella didn’t know why she was wasting her time reassuring him, but it distracted her from her own thoughts so she kept going. “What was the favor?”

Troy groaned and ran a hand over his hair.

“I come from a long line of doctors, you know. Since forever.” He rocked back on his heels. “But I want to be a musician. I asked for permission to pursue my passion.”

“What if you don’t get it?”

“I’ll pursue it anyway.” He gave Stella a helpless smile. “You can’t just ignore a passion.”

---

Tune in tomorrow for the next installment. [Part 7]

Hugs,
TLC

The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 5)

The fifth installment in the Twelve Days of Stella, in which Stella makes Troy stay. If you missed the previous installments, here are the links:

• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 1)
• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 2)
• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 3)
• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 4)
  

---

“Travatas?” Stella asked, trying to determine what might be in the bag. “What are you—“

“Aaaack!” he screamed, dropping the bag and then quickly retrieving it when it started to wriggle away. The bag grasped firmly in one hand, he glared at Stella. “You scared the crap out of me! I didn’t think anyone visited the temple anymore.”

Stella arched a brow. “Neither did I.”

“Oh.” He gave her an apologetic look. “Sorry. I guess you were here first.” Reversing course, he backed toward the door. “I’ll go. Let you finish your, uh—“

“No!” Stella blurted, then readjusted her composure. “I mean, you’re welcome to stay. It’s a public place.”

Troy glanced at the bag. “Um, I think I should come back later.” The bag wriggled again. He muttered, “Or maybe not at all.”

Now she was more curious than anything. What was in that bag?

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she insisted, crossing the temple until she stood in front of him at the entrance. “You’re obviously here to,” —she gestured at the wriggling bag—“make an offering of some sort. You should present it.”

Arms crossed over her chest, Stella stifled a laugh at the miserable look on Troy’s face. He looked like she’d asked him to kiss a frog. But she wanted to know what was wriggling inside that bag, so she adopted her most intimidating look—she had many—and waited. She could sense him weighing his choices. Although she could read his thoughts if she tried—a power she had inherited from her ancestor goddess—she preferred watching and guessing. Made her feel ... more human.

Finally, his shoulders slumped.

“Okay,” he said. “If you’d wait outside, this’ll just take a second.”

Stella shook her head slowly. “No thank you. I won’t be in your way.” She stepped aside and gestured into the temple. “Go ahead.”

To his credit, Troy didn’t waver. He clenched his jaw, gripped the bag tighter, and stalked across the limestone floor. When he reached the section of the mural that represented Asklepios, the god of medicine, he knelt down and pulled at the opening of the bag.

Stella couldn’t contain her gasp when a small green snake slithered out.

---

Tune in tomorrow for the next installment. [Part 6]

Hugs,
TLC

The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 4)

The fourth installment in the Twelve Days of Stella, in which Stella saves herself some Skittles. If you missed the previous installments, here are the links:

• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 1)
• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 2)
• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 3)
  

---

As Stella flicked her hand at the room, sending the sea of Skittles back into oblivion—except for the jarful she zapped onto her desk ... for later—she wished she’d just cleaned up the mess in the first place. Then she wouldn’t be facing Phoebe’s questioning look about the paintings.

But it wasn’t like she had to stay and answer those questions.

“I’m going out for a while,” Stella said as she snatched the portraits off the sofa and headed for her room. “Try not to bring any more plagues to the house before I get back.”

She could practically hear Phoebe’s teeth grinding behind her. That almost made up for her discovering the paintings.

Stella quickly slid the canvases under her bed. They should be safe from Phoebe’s curiosity—and her powers—until Stella could decide what she wanted to do with them. Now that they’d come out of hiding she couldn’t just put them back and forget.

When she heard Phoebe’s door slam—not an unusual occurrence—Stella stepped into her silver ballet flats. Seconds later she was walking the path to the village, heading for her favorite refuge: the pantheon temple. Perched on a cliff overlooking the gorgeous Aegean below, the pantheon temple was built as a tribute to all the gods and goddesses of Olympic descent in an attempt to diffuse any arguments about preferred patron deities and the like. Not that anything could prevent the gods from arguing.

The temple was rarely used anymore. The gods didn’t visit the island with any regularity, and the residents didn’t feel compelled to pay formal tribute. Which meant that Stella usually found the temple deserted—the perfect environment for clear thinking.

As she climbed the shallow steps and passed through the colonnade to enter the temple proper, she felt a growing sense of calm and clarity. There was something about the brightly colored mural the covered every square inch of the interior walls that just ... made her smile. It portrayed all the gods and goddesses in their most resplendent glory. Like a massive and ancient family portrait.

Stella went, as she always did, to stand before the goddess on the far wall. The one wearing a beautiful golden crown, holding a plump pomegranate in her elegant hand, and with a proud peacock laying across her feet. Hera.

It had been years since Stella met with her immortal ancestor. The great deities rarely left Olympus anymore, and Stella hadn’t had time—or an invitation—to attend their court. If she couldn’t speak to Hera face-to-face, then this was the next best thing.

She lifted a hand to run her fingertips over the gilded sandals on Hera’s feet, but stopped when she heard footsteps echoing into the temple.

Startled, she turned to see who else still visited the temple, and was even more shocked to see Phoebe’s friend, Troy, hurrying inside. He was carrying a cloth bag in his outstretched hands, eyeing it nervously as if it might bite at any second.

---

Tune in tomorrow for the next installment. [Part 5]

Hugs,
TLC

The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 3)

The third installment in the Twelve Days of Stella, in which Stella wishes she'd just cleaned up the mess. If you missed the previous installments, here are the links:

• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 1)
• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 2)
  

---

Stella stirred up the blueberries from the bottom of her yogurt while watching Phoebe shovel the Skittles into garbage bags by the bowlful. Maybe she should give Phoebe a hand, but she was having too much fun watching her stepsister labor over the results of her misfired powers.

“I don’t see why you won’t just zap them all away,” Phoebe complained. “I know you can.”

“Of course I can,” Stella replied between spoonfuls of blueberry yogurt. “But you would hardly learn your lesson if I make your problems disappear. You’re just lucky Daddy’s not here to see the mess.”

She smiled with satisfaction at the look of horror on Phoebe’s face, even if it wasn’t really justified. Although Daddy could be a bit of a stern disciplinarian, he had a soft spot for Phoebe that made Stella’s ears itch. He never let her get away with half the stuff Phoebe did. If Stella had been the one who visiomutated all the water in the house into glitter, she would still be grounded. Just like they were still finding glitter in the bathroom.

Hrmph. Stella would let Phoebe struggle a little longer with the manual Skittles removal before reversing the results of her misfire.

“Hey, what’s this?” Phoebe asked from where she was digging rainbow candy from beneath the sofa. “They feel like paintings.”

Stella froze.

She had forgotten about the paintings she’d hidden away so she wouldn’t have to face the reminders of bittersweet memories. Paintings she hadn’t laid eyes on in years. And now Phoebe was pulling them out into the light.

“Wow,” Phoebe said as she set the paintings onto the sofa and studied them. “They’re beautiful. Who painted them?”

Stella set her half-eaten yogurt on the kitchen counter and went to stand next to Phoebe. There were four canvases. The first three were goddess portraits, commissioned by Hera, Athena, and Artemis. The fourth was a portrait of a hematheos woman with loose-flowing blonde hair, soft gray eyes, and a joyful smile.

“My mom painted those,” Stella answered, pointing at the goddess portraits. Then, facing the painting she could never bring herself to destroy, she said, “And I painted that one.”

“Stella ...”

Phoebe’s voice had taken on such a strange tone of awe and surprise that Stella couldn’t help turning to meet her steady brown gaze.

“That’s amazing.” Phoebe shook her head, like she couldn’t quite fathom the situation. “I didn’t know you painted.”

Stella looked back at the portrait she’d done, the portrait of her mother.

“I don’t.”

---

Tune in tomorrow for the next installment. [Part 4]

Hugs,
TLC

The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 2)

The second installment in the Twelve Days of Stella, in which Stella learns why she needed an umbrella. If you missed the previous installment, here's the link:

• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 1)

---

“Ow!”

Stella winced as something small, round and hard pelted her in the head. And then another. And another. Before a fourth could sting her scalp, she neofactured an umbrella and held it overhead.

She would not admit that she should have heeded Phoebe’s warning.

“Phoebe,” she snapped above the roar of thousands of brightly colored objects raining down on the living room, “what in the name of Hera is happening?”

“I don’t know,” Phoebe shouted back. “I was just sitting on the couch, daydreaming when these started falling from the sky.”

Phoebe was pressed against the near wall, holding Daddy’s oversized hardcover Atlas of the Ancient World above her head. The little colorful objects bounced off the book, springing into the center of the room. Stella held out her hand and captured a few. She studied her handful, noting that the red, yellow, and green balls each had a little white S printed on one side.

“Are these--” Stella squinted at her hand. “--candy?”

“Oh shoot!” Phoebe edged away from the wall to stand next to Stella. “They’re Skittles. I was daydreaming about my favorite candy store, and how they have these beautiful rainbow colored displays, and how they always remind me of the rainbow of fruit flavors, and ...” She gestured at the raining candy, as if that should explain it all.

Stella had no idea what Phoebe was talking about. Of course, Stella frequently had no idea what Phoebe was talking about. She chalked it up to the cultural differences between girls raised in Greece and California.

But, intrigued by the daydream and the idea of a rainbow-filled candy store, Stella lifted her hand to her mouth and popped the candy inside. Her tongue exploded in a burst of flavor. She didn’t think she had ever eaten anything quite as overpoweringly sweet.

She loved it!

“Stella?” Phoebe shouted.

“Right,” she said, pulling herself out of the candy-induced reverie. With one wave of her hand, the downpour ceased, leaving them standing in three inches of Skittles.

---

Tune in tomorrow for the next installment. [Part 3]

Hugs,
TLC

The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 1)

Happy Holidays, everyone! If you've read OH. MY. GODS. you know that Phoebe's new stepsister, Stella Petrolas, is a bit on the evil harpy side. Seems like she lives to make Pheobe's life more difficult. But is that all there is to Stella?

Of course not. (After all, every villain is the hero of her own story.) So, for your holiday enjoyment, I'm giving you a bit of story from Stella's perspective.

Enjoy!

---

Stella looked around the room that had been her home for all eighteen years of her life and thought of everything she would miss when she went away to college next Fall. The white canopy bed with sheer pink drapes and orchid silk bedding. The full-length mirror surrounded by twinkling white fairy lights that made her feel like a princess every time she checked her reflection--like she did now. The mural she and her mom had started the winter before she turned ten. It was the one thing she could not take with her and the one thing she would miss the most.

"You're being silly," Stella told her reflection. "Oxford is months away. Besides,"--she smoothed an errant strand of honey-blonde hair--"you can always autoport home whenever you want."

Her gaze shifted to the reflected view of the unfinished forest scene on her wall. A happy composition of deep green pine trees, rainbow colored songbirds, smiling woodland creatures, and the glow of tree faeries among the branches. That winter they had spent hour after hour painting, while Daddy worked tirelessly on his new curriculum for the Academy. Hours of laughing and sweating and painting each other on the nose. The memories were that much sweeter because they were the last she would ever have of her mother.

After the funeral Stella had never picked up a paintbrush again.

A knock at her door startled her out of her sad thoughts and she quickly wiped at the tears stinging her eyes. How foolish she was being, crying over a past she could never change. The Christmas season must be making her nostalgic.

"Um ... Stella?" her new stepsister Phoebe called out.

She sounded nervous. Never good.

"I have an itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny problem and I could use your help." She paused before adding, "You might want to bring an umbrella."

Stella took a deep breath. With Phoebe, the problems were never itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny. Shaking off her melancholy memories, she mentally formed a waterproof hydrokinesis shield around her body and pulled open the door.

---

Tune in tomorrow for the next installment. [Part 2]

Hugs,
TLC

Fun On The Horizon

I know, I know. I've been off the blogosphere radar for a while (traveling for Thanksgiving, working on the mermaid book, baking Christmas gifts, getting sick--blech!) but I'm back with a pair of (hopefully) exciting things coming up.


First, with the holiday season in full swing, I want to give you, my readers, the one thing that no one else can: a short story. (Okay, maybe other writers--or aspiring writers--can give you a short story, but not one written by me.) On each of the Twelve Days of Christmas (that's December 25 through January 5) I will post a new chapter of the story. That means there will be twelve chapters in all. And that sums up everything I know about the story at this point. Things I don't know about the story yet:

1. Who it will be about. (Maybe a character from OH. MY. GODS.)
2. What it will be about. (It might be a Christmas story or a winter story or a completely random story about neither Christmas nor winter. We'll find out together on the First Day of Christmas.)

Second, many of you know that I've gotten the first of the advance copies of GODDESS BOOT CAMP. And you might also know that most have them have already been given away (to family, friends, booksellers, a contest winner, and into my personal archives). At the moment I have one (1) copy left. Rather than decide arbitrarily which reviewer or fan gets this prize, I'm going to hold a contest to determine who is the most worthy. I'm not releasing full details yet (maybe because I'm not fully certain yet) but here are two facts:

1. The contest will begin in mid-January.
2. It will consist of twelve tasks (like the Twelve Labors of Hercules).

So whaddya think? Are these fun things on the horizon? Check back starting on Christmas day for the Great Short Story Experiment, and then again in mid-January for the Twelve Labors contest.

Hugs,
TLC

Famous Last Lines

Yesterday I finished the first draft (the very, very rough first draft) of the mermaid book. As I've whined about-- er, mentioned several times, this book has turned out longer than my usual first draft. It clocked in at 238 pages! (!!!) Usually my first drafts are around 190 pages. That's like a 20% increase. Which means it took me (at least) 20% longer to write. And that reaching the end is 20% sweeter.


It feels great to be done. (With this part. There's still a lot of work to do, but the hardest and most tedious part is over.) What doesn't feel great, however, is my last line. I'm pretty sure it's the worst last line I've ever written. Maybe the worst last line ever written, period. Here it is:

I bet I can renegotiate the streamers later.

Seriously, isn't that awful? My mom insists that it's wonderful--she even laughed out loud, which she almost never does when I'm trying to explain writing-related stuff over the phone. But I'm pretty sure it's full of suckage. It kind of makes sense in context, but I will rewrite it later, I promise.

The sucky last line, however, got me thinking about other last lines in literature. Lots of attention gets paid to the first lines of books, but what about the very last? Aren't they just as important, maybe more so since that's the last impression the book makes on a reader? So, let's compare my sucky last line to some others.

It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.
~ A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens

That is one of the greatest. It makes my cry just to think these words. I used this in college in my Performance of Literature final. (Which was a way cool project, btw, and I may share the text of it here someday.)

Darcy, as well as Elizabeth, really loved them; and they were both ever sensible of the warmest gratitude towards the persons who, by bringing her into Derbyshire, had been the means of uniting them.
~ Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

This is my favorite book of all-time, but I find myself kind of disappointed by the last line. It's kind of long-winded and not so much about looking into the future of Lizzie and Darcy as it is about smiling back on the events of the past. But, in the context of the story as a whole, and taking the author's style into account, it is perhaps a fitting end for the book.

Okay, here are some more. See if you can guess the literary work in question. (Answers at the bottom of the post.)

1. Give me your hands, if we be friends, And Robin shall restore amends.

2. He was soon borne away by the waves and lost in darkness and distance.

3. Truly, would you not for less than that make the tour around the world?

4. I'm so glad to be at home again!

5. Alice got up and ran off, thinking while she ran, as well she might, what a wonderful dream it had been.

6. And he was feeling not-unique in the very best possible way.

7. At the end of the rainbow in Cyd Charisse's Land of All Things Ginger, there will be a Shrimp.

8. "Happy endings are all I can do," she whispered. "I wouldn't know how to write anything else."

9. Thank you, Michael, for letting my son love her first.

So, what do you think? Do last lines measure up to first? Are they just as important? Does my sucky last line suck more than any others?

Hugs,
TLC

Answers:
1. A Midsummer Night's Dream by William Shakespeare
2. Frankenstein by Mary Shelley
3. Around the World in 80 Days by Jules Verne
4. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum
5. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll
6. An Abundance of Katherines by John Green
7. Gingerbread by Rachel Cohn
8. Romancing Mr. Bridgerton by Julia Quinn
9. When He Was Wicken by Julia Quinn

Warning: Writing 27 Pages In A Day Might Make You Insane

Or at least that's what happened to me. Here's how my day went yesterday ...

I went to the office (aka Starbucks) and got a peppermint white mocha. Pulled out the alphasmart. Got a peppermint white mocha frappuccino. Wrote 27 freakin' pages!!! Woohoo! That's not my all-time record, but it's pretty close. Got a peppermint iced coffee to celebrate.


I grabbed takeout barbecue on my way home and then kind of crashed. I watch a little TV. Took a bath and read a couple of novellas in a Christmas anthology. They always make me cry, so I picked up another book for distraction. About 3:30am I finished that book. Oh no! I wanted to get up at a decent hour and get 27 more pages done the next day. I needed to get to sleep.

Only, that thing that happens when you really, really, really want to get to sleep because you have so much to do the next day ... happened. I couldn't fall asleep. No matter what I tried--playing Pirates of the Caribbean off the DVR for the millionth time, dominating a few rounds of Wheel of Fortune on my phone, tugging on my sleep mask to block every last bit of light--it didn't work.


Thing kept running through my mind, like all the scenes I have left in the mermaid book, other book ideas I'm pondering, books I've just read, books I want to read, what I need to pack to fly home for Thanksgiving, what I want in a Christmas tree, a couple of emails I forgot to send ... All that stuff and more kept me from falling asleep until 5:30!!! (Or, it might have been those three peppermint coffees I downed throughout the day.)

But my post-27-pages insanity didn't end there. Here's how today went ...

Got up at 11:00am (after on 5.5 hours of sleep) and dragged myself to the office. Ordered a soy chai latter (my "healthy" coffee drink). Write 6 pages. Got entirely and unavoidably blocked.

I called my critique partner, but she didn't answer. I called my parents. They couldn't help. (I mean, they wish they could, but they're not writers, you know. It's not the same.) I called my critique partner again. Nothing. I finally gave up on the office, packed away my things, and headed to TJ Maxx. I found Generation Dead for $10 (happy dance). My critique partner still didn't answer. I went to Target. I bought the Chronicles of Riddick trilogy--although, I argue that Pitch Black is not a "Chronicle of Riddick" because when it came out everyone was more excited about Claudia Black from Farscape than Vin whoever.


My critique partner finally called me back! (She'd been working in one room, with her phone shut away in another. Good for her writing. Bad for my sanity.) After talking to her for just ten minutes I knew what I had to do.


I left Target, went back to the office (something I almost never do once I give up for the day) and wrote six more pages. I now predict that the first draft of the mermaid book will be done in two--count 'em two--days. Hooray!

Hugs,
TLC

Yahoo! Ate My Mail

Today I was in a little funk. Distracted. Didn't get enough pages done at Starbucks. Went to Target ... just ... because. Came home and got lost in internet nonsense for a while. Watched The Mentalist. Drooled over Simon Baker. But even his yummy blond goodness couldn't shake my funk.


Finally, after primetime, I grabbed my Alphasmart and dug in to write the rest of my quota for the day. It took less than two hours. Then I pulled out my laptop, ready to download my 13 pages, when I saw my email count. 71 NEW MESSAGES

Um, what? I had no new messages when I started writing two hours ago, no there's 71? How did that happen? I imagined all sorts of crazy things that might have occurred in the world at large to prompt this mass emailing.

Until I looked closer.

Some of the messages dated back to November 7. They included Facebook updates and notices of comments on the blog (I had seen the comments and wondered why I'd gotten no email). Some of them were even important messages about contests and other things. They were all messages from my Yahoo! account, which I have forwarded to my Gmail account. And they hadn't been delivered for almost five days!

There was even an email from my fabulous agent sent yesterday. Just this one email would have totally defunked my day. (In this context, defunking is a good thing. As opposed to a situation in which one loses their funkiness.)

So, I blame you, Yahoo!, for my restlessness today.

Also, it is pouring outside. I love a good storm.

Hugs,
TLC

Just How I Planned ... Only Not

Usually I'm a short writer. No, not physically short--I'm 5'7" thankyouverymuch--but page count short. My first drafts are usually way shorter than I expect them to be, or than the final book will become. Like the first draft of OH. MY. GODS. was only around 180 pages. The final page count is 264. For GODDESS BOOT CAMP it was a little more line, with a 230 page first draft and a 264 page final book.


So I write a short draft and then I flesh it out later--some on my own, and some with the excellent help of my fabulous editor. That's my process and I'm comfortable with that.

Only this time it's different.


I'm currently working on my third to-be-published novel, a mermaid story tentatively called FORGIVE MY FINS. I'm getting pages done every day (like today I wrote 16 pages--and I might write more tonight), but it seems like every time I move forward in the story the ending moves farther away. Like how for the last three days I've been trying to get to the next major turning point. I'll think, "Okay, I should get there in 20 pages." And then I'll write 15 pages--two scenes--and I'll realize, "That turning point is still 20 pages away." The finish line keeps moving.


I feel like I knew how far away The End was, but every day it moves a little farther into the distance. It's like if you were driving cross-country and suddenly the continent stretched to make your drive twice as long. I know I'm still going in the right direction; it's just going to take me longer to get there.

Maybe it's because my editor and I did so much brainstorming before and I won't have to do as much revising after. That's what I keep telling myself.

In any event, I think the Freeze Tag scene is a keeper, so I'm going with it.

Hugs,
TLC

Costume Winners!

Thank you to everyone who shared their Halloween costumes with me! Here are the winners, their costumes, and their prizes:

NICOLE [ZBZ] (who dressed in the coolest wizard costume ever) wins the pink iPod shuffle!

Diana of The Not-So-Closet-Geeks (dressed as the goddess Diana--how cool is that?) wins a signed copy of OH. MY. GODS.

Jennifer aka YABooknerd (dressed as a way cool all-black fairy) wins an advance copy of GODDESS BOOT CAMP--as soon as I get them!

Send me your mailing info (to tlc at teralynnchilds dot com) and I'll get your prizes out asap. (I'll be sure to contact the winners to let them know they, um, won.)

Also, Stay tuned to the blog this week for fun cover news!

Hugs,
TLC

Contest Reminder

Don't forget to enter my Halloween costume contest! (You can win copies of my books and a pink iPod shuffle!!!) I'm accepting entries through Saturday, November 8th, and will be posting winners on Sunday. Learn all the details here. Just email/MySpace/comment me about your costume this year to enter. (Pictures would be especially nice!)

Hugs,
TLC

Happy Halloween! (And My Illustrated Costume History)

Reminder: Take pictures of yourself in costume today for my contest. Check out the details here. And I've decided to definitely give away one of these (which, if you're too lazy to click the link, is a pink iPod shuffle!) Plus one copy of OMG and one copy of GBC for every ten entries. All types of costumes are welcome to enter.

In my 32 years on this planet, I've experienced 31 Halloweens (not counting this one, yet). That's a lot of candy (Smarties, please), a lot of trick-or-treating (not so much tricking), and a lot of costumes. Here is a partially illustrated chronological history of my Halloween costumes.

Age: 2
Costume: CLOWN (The first in a long line of clown costumes--which I just learned is probably because my mother never got to be a clown as a child. There is also a pre-K pic of me in a clown costume, but it is very very horror movie creepy. I have elected not to include.)

Age: 5ish
Costume: DOG (Sadly there are no pics of this costume--or they're very well hidden--which my mom made from tons of different scraps of fake fur. It was very hot, but very awesome.)

Age: 7
Costume: CINDERELLA (These pics are also missing. My mom made this costume to look just like Cindy's dress in the Disney movie. I was traumatized when everyone thought I was a fairy.)

Age: 9
Costume: CLOWN (Again. Yes, this is me dancing with a pumpkin candle we made at school by dipping balloons into melted crayons. That was an awesome candle.)

Age: 10
Costume: PRINCESS (I loved this costume sooo much--of course my mom made it. I wore the cape forever and I adored the little shoe covers. You can't tell in the picture, but the blue fabric has silver sparkles!)

Age: 11
Costume: JACK-IN-A-BOX (This is what happens when your mom is a costumer and your dad is a set designer. Click on the image to see the full popping-up sequence. Note the recycled clown costume from age 9.)

Age: 13
Costume: DANCER (No pics of this--thank goodness. I wore a shiny hot pink unitard and sprayed my hair to match.)

Age: 17
Costume: PUMPKIN (As in, I wore black leggings and an oversized orange t-shirt with a pumpkin face on the front. Yes, my best friend and I went trick-or-treating in high school. Sue us.)

Age:21
Costume: APHRODITE (This was my senior year in college and, being in the theatre department, I had to come up with something with wow factor. This is one of my favorite costumes ever. I also had a baggie of Hershey's Kisses attached to my rope belt and handed them out to cute boys.)

Age: 26
Costume: I'M NOT SURE (My Wisconsonian cousins--the three in the middle--came to visit my Bransonian cousin--on the right--and we went to see a magic show on Halloween. I might be a wrapped present, considering the curling ribbon and the glittery star.)

Age: 29
Costume: HALLOWEEN FAIRY (This was the year I taught 7th grade and I agree to chaperone the dance. The picture at the top of my blog and website is from this night. I wore glittery eyelashes, glitter all over my face, and a black web-like shawl over a tank top with the word Spooky written in sequins. All my students loved the costume--especially the eyelashes.)

Age: 32 (this year)
Costume: BUDDING AUTHORESS (Okay, not a costume, because that's what I really am. But I couldn't aspire to be anything better--unless it was a bestselling authoress.)

Okay, your turn to share. Even if you don't have a picture of your halloween costume from this year, if you leave a comment telling me about it I'll enter you in the contest. Can't wait to see and hear!

Hugs,
TLC

Some Days It Falls From the Sky

Some days writing feels like trying to wring water from rocks. You sit there and stare at the blank page (or the blinking cursor) for hours, just trying to figure out what comes next. Begging for some kind of muse to visit and tell you why this scene isn't working, why your character won't do something useful, or why you keep writing and rewriting the same line over and over again.

Then there are days like today. Days where the words just come pouring down from the sky, through your fingertips, and into the waiting file. The story flows almost faster than you can type.


For the past few days I've been struggling to get into my current story. It's not because I don't love it--it's a mermaid story! What's not to love about a mermaid story? No, I totally adore this book and I've been waiting two years to write it. It's more like I was stuck. I had about seventy pages written and was managing to squeeze out about four or five pages a day, but I felt like I was treading water.

Then, today, something clicked. Everything slid into place. I wrote twelve pages in two hours. I stopped myself when I knew what was coming next, so I would have somewhere to start tomorrow, but I still wanted to keep going. It's like I hit the wall, pushed through, and then felt the wave of endorphins sweep over me.

If only every day could be like today. I know they won't be. Still, maybe that's part of what keeps me going. Because I know that, for every day where I can hardly bleed words onto the page, there will be a day where they fall out of the sky.


In other news, today smelled like Fall. Finally.

Hugs,
TLC

Blanking on the Blog

Reminder: I'm hosting a Halloween costume contest. Check out the details here. And I've decided to definitely give away one of these. Plus one copy of OMG and one copy of GBC for every ten entries. All types of costumes are welcome to enter.


Why is it that when I'm out in the world (shopping or writing or seeing a movie) I think of millions of blog topics, but when I sit down to write one I go completely blank? Well, that has to change. I have many things to say. Seriously. (I didn't say they were important or interesting things. Just things.)

So here are the ways I've come up with to remember my blog ideas when I get home:

1. Write ideas on my hand. (Problems: Limited skin space. Possibility of ink poisoning if I get too enthusiastic about my note taking.)
2. Send myself a text message. (Problems: Thumb blisters. Shorthand amnesia--aka not being able to decipher my abbreviations later.)
3. Leave myself a voicemail. (Problems: Feeling like an idiot talking to myself via phone. Using up my cell phone minutes.)
4. Type them on my laptop. (Problems: Laptop doesn't fit in purse. Laptop is heavy. Typing is awkward while driving.)
5. Jot them in a mini-notebook. (No known problems. Yay!)

Okay, so clearly the solution to my problem is to not only carry a mini-notebook with me at all times (which I already do), but also to actually use it to write down ideas as they pop up. I'm going to make a page titled BLOG IDEAS right now so I can start using it next time I'm out and about.

You'll be able to figure out whether it's working by reading the blog in the next few weeks. (If there are lots of fun posts, it's working. If not, well, then back to ye olde drawing board.)

Hugs,
TLC

Signing at Kendall Neighborhood Library

Event alert, godlets.


Tomorrow (October 21st) afternoon (4:00-5:30pm) I will be signing copies of OH. MY. GODS. (courtesy of Blue Willow Bookshop) and chatting at the Kendall Neighborhood Library in Houston, Texas. If you're in the area (see map) then stop by. There will be buttons and bookmarks and maybe the inside scoop on the sequel, GODDESS BOOT CAMP, and my hush-hush third book.

Here the official event blurb:

Signing by Author Tera Lynn Childs

10/21/2008 4:00 PM

Meet the author Tera Lynn Childs, author of the popular fantasy fiction book "Oh. My. Gods." Get your book signed and learn more about the author! Ages: teens.

14330 Memorial Drive
Houston, Texas 77079
832-393-1880

Hope to see you there!

Hugs,
TLC

PS — Don't forget to be thinking about the Costume Contest! (All types of costumes are eligible, but ones with a mythic twist might get bonus points.)

Calling All Costumes (aka a Contest)

Good morning, godlets. Today we are officially two weeks away from one of the coolest holidays of the year. HALLOWEEN!!!

I adore Halloween, and not just because of the tricks, treats, and changing of seasons, but also because of the COSTUMES! On All Hallows Eve you get to don the appearance of anyone (or anything!) you want. You get to step outside of yourself and become whatever you dream about. (It's like being an actor, only without the multitudes staring and waiting for you to remember your lines.)

You can even dress up your dog...


...or your baby sister or brother (for future blackmail).

Or, if you are a huge mythology fan (or, ahem, the author of books where the characters are descendants of Greek gods) you might decide to dress yourself up and play goddess for the night.

(These are Aphrodite and NIKE!!! Both from Halloween Express.)

Now for the contest part. If you are among the later (as in you'll be going Greek this Halloween) be sure to snap a pic of you or you and your friends in costume. Send me the picture (email tlc at teralynnchilds dot com) or a link to where you've posted it (on a blog or MySpace or wherever) and you'll be entered to win fabulous prizes.*

Not sure how to go about becoming a goddess? Well here are some helpful links if you want to make your own costume:

• How to Make a Toga — Includes detailed instructions and loads of pictures.
• How to Dress Up Like a Greek Chiton — Cool cartoon directions.
• Easy Halloween Costume Ideas: the Greek gods — How to dress up like one of the six Olympian gods.
• Medusa Costume — How to make a snake-headed gorgon costume.
• Greek Statue — Simple instructions to make a Greek statue costume. (For a little girl, but easily adapted for adults.)
  
• About.com — Greek god or goddess costume instructions.
• Costumer's Manifesto — If you want to get authentic, here are a bunch of links to historical info about Greek costumes.

Or, if you want to go the easier route (no shame in that) try your local Halloween superstore or search "greek goddess" at one of these online costume retailers: Amazon, Halloween Express, BuyCostumes.com, or Costume Supercenter.

You have until the Wednesday after Halloween (that'll be November 5th) to send me your pictures and be entered in the contest. Check back on Halloween when I post an illustrated history of my costume choices, including the year I dress as Aphrodite!

Hugs,
TLC

* Prizes have not been finalized, but will definitely include one or more copies of Oh. My. Gods. and one or more IOUs for advance copies of Goddess Boot Camp as soon as I get them. There might be one of these in the final prize list because they finally have pink again.

Hurricane Ike: After

(Part 3 of 3 in my mini-series on Hurricane Ike.)

Read Part 1
Read Part 2

The first thing I saw when I looked out the window was the fence in my friend's back yard. It was flat on the ground. And her yard was littered roof shingles. Some of the bushes in their front yard were wiped out. Compared to what happened in other parts of southeast Texas, they escaped lightly.

We went to work on the refrigerator, emptying out the contents and putting staples (like cheese, milk, and lunch meats) in an ice-filled cooler while eating the extremely perishable items (mostly leftovers). There was a strict no-open policy on the refrigerator and freezer doors. I had to wait most of the day to retrieve my 7up from the fridge.


My friend's husband went to work in the yard, cleaning up the debris and temporarily repairing the damage. That's how they roll in Texas. Hunker down for the storm and the start cleaning up the mess.

Only the mess this time was the biggest one in over two decades. More than 2 million people lost power. Let me repeat that. Over 2 million people without power. Although the energy companies got to work right away, restoring power to my friend's house and my apartment within 24 hours, some Houston residents are still without power. Two weeks after the storm and they still have no air conditioning, no internet access, and no means of storing and cooking foods. It's like living in pioneer times.

I didn't venture out until Sunday, a good 36 hours after the storm. Houston was under a curfew (6am to 7pm, I think) and was encouraging residents not to go out unless absolutely necessary. I went to check on the status of my apartment (with horrified images of my very exposed bedroom windows being blown out and my YA collection destroyed by wind and rain). Thankfully, there had been only a brief power outage and loss of water pressure.

I returned to my friend's home, waiting for the water to be restored--that happened on Monday. I was so lucky. I only experienced a brief period without power and had to wait an extra day to return home because of water pressure. So many other have suffered and are still suffering more.

I'll let some of my pictures do the talking now.

This is the parking lot behind my Starbucks.

Whole trees down in my neighborhood.

That lake off to the left? It's actually a parking lot and baseball and soccer fields.

The freezer section in my grocery store, about five days after the storm. Other sections, along with lots of stuff in the dairy and produce areas, were completely empty.

A traffic signal just hanging down to the street.

Though the national media coverage may have waned, the residents of the Houston Bay Area still live with the devastation of Hurricane Ike. Residents of the Bolivar peninsula were only just allowed back to *look* at their homes today. Many are homeless, powerless, and waterless. Traffic signals still don't work, curfews are still in effect, and the restoration and recovery efforts will still be going strong months from now.

Keep Houston in your thoughts and, if you feel compelled, donate to the Red Cross in Ike's name. The people of southeast Texas will come back stronger and faster for your help.

Hugs,
TLC

Hurricane Ike: During

(Part 2 of 3 in my mini-series on Hurricane Ike.)

Read Part 1

About seven seconds after the power went out, my friend's house became an insta-sauna. For those of you who don't live in a humid climate, the careful cultivation of a livable environment depends on a perfect balance of air-conditioning and ceiling fans. Without power we lost both.

So, we had no television, no internet, no lights, and no reprieve from the sweltering heat.


We lit candles and lounged on sticky leather couches, listening to local news broadcasts on my emergency radio and trying not to generate more heat than absolutely necessary. I also kept my parents updated on my status via text messages (which I copied to my Twitter profile so anyone could get a live play-by-play on the storm). Here are some of my Tweets:

IKE Report: Power is out. 9:39 PM

IKE Report: Eye approaching downtown Houston on the East. Life is very hot w/out AC. 4:37 AM

IKE Report: Power has tried to flash on a couple of times. Come on fan, you can do it! 6:00 AM

IKE Report: Main storm has passed. Still raining, still no power. 9:00 AM

Eventually we realized that lying around listening to news was only going to prolong our misery and around 11:00 we went to bed. It took me a looong time to fall asleep. (I was sleeping downstairs on one of the sticky leather couches and though the wind kept howling down my friend's chimney, not one whoosh stirred the heavy air.) I just kept thinking to myself, "If I just fall asleep, it will all be over when I wake up."


But I couldn't stay asleep. First it was the crying baby, whose room was getting even less circulation than the rest of the house. Then it was the sound of my friend's husband laying towels behind the front door and under all the leaky front-facing windows. Then it was my friend running water in the kitchen to make the baby a bottle. (Every time she ran the water I jolted awake, convinced that we'd lost a window and the hurricane-force rains were now showering into the house.)

Each time I woke up I texted my parents (who were sleeping peacefully in their OKC beds) and Twitter, just so there would be a record of my experience, and listened to the latest update on the storm's progress.

A storm in the dark is exponentially scarier than one that passed in daylight hours. Even when we dared to look out the windows, all we could see were faint images of horizontal rain and occasional flashes of light (maybe lightning, maybe exploding transformers). Who knew what had happened beyond the reach of our vision.

Finally, at around 9:00, we all woke up and faced the day. Ike had passed, but there was tragedy and destruction in his wake.

Hugs,
TLC

Hurricane Ike: Before

(Part 1 of 3 in my mini-series on Hurricane Ike.)

Last Wednesday, September 10, was my birthday. (Number 32, thank you very much.) I went out to dinner with friends, had the most amazing birthday dessert ever*, and then went home to prep for Ike. You see, that was also they day we knew for sure that Ike was heading our way here in Houston, although we didn't know until Friday just how dead-on he would be.


I spent Thursday moving thing in my apartment away from windows, packing for my evacuation to a friend's house farther west, and obsessively checking the online hurricane trackers at the National Hurricane Center, the Weather Channel, and the Houston Chronicle. My plan was to get up early Friday morning (a good 18 hours before the storm was predicted to hit the coast) and head to Katy. Then I lost my internet. Being cut off from my major sources of information freaked me out, so I threw my clothes and non-perishable foods into a suitcase, tucked my laptop in a tote, and locked the door behind me.


My friend and I spent Thursday evening and most of Friday paying with her three kids (okay, two kids and a husband), brainstorming books, trying not to eat any of our hurricane stores, and watching news coverage of the coming storm. After the kids went to bed, we watched the summer finale of Psych and fielded worried phone calls from parents, neighbors, and friends.


Then, at 9:30, the power went out. Ike had arrived.

Hugs,
TLC

* This dessert consisted of a silver vase overflowing with blue cotton candy (like a giant ice cream cone) with a sparkler on top. Cotton candy and sparklers are two of my favorite things on earth. It was amazing. Definitely my best dessert since the Smurfette cake at my 7th birthday party.

Get Your Red Hot COOP Winners Here!

Okay, so you should know that this is the part of contests I hate. (And the part I always seem to block out of my mind when I decide to do them.) I have to choose winners. Which means that some people will wind up ... not winners. I wish I could give prizes to everyone but, well, I can't.


Instead, I rely on randomizer.org to make the decisions for me so I don't suffer any guilt. And so you can't blame me. Please keep that in mind as I announce ... the winners!

(Note: The contest was held simultaneously on my Blogger and MySpace blogs, so I'm also listing where the winning comment was posted. This did not affect your chances of winning at all.)

COOP 1 (from Blogger) Kate
COOP 2 (from MySpace) Kayla.x3
COOP 3 (from MySpace) MYBKCLUB
COOP 4 (from Blogger) stellargurl93
COOP 5 (from MySpace) The Book Girl Reviews
COOP 6 (from Blogger) The Book Muncher
COOP 7 (from Blogger) Tink122595
COOP 8 (from Blogger) Kyle
COOP 9 (from MySpace) kp =]]]]
COOP 10 (from Blogger) Kelsey
COOP 11 (from MySpace) The Golfing Librarian
COOP 12 (from Blogger) Lenore
COOP 13 (from MySpace) diana.
COOP 14 (from Blogger) danetteb
COOP 15 (from Blogger) Swimgrl100
COOP 16 (from MySpace) [kareee]
COOP 17 (from MySpace) Babycat

And, finally, the winner of the Gold Medal Contest (and a way cool prize pack from San Francisco's Chinatown) is Kristy F. (Don't worry, I'll email you to confirm.)

Assuming you're one of the winners listed above, now what? First you celebrate. (Dancing and cheering will suffice.) Then you email (tlc at teralynnchilds dot com) or MySpace message me with your mailing address and whether you want a copy of OH. MY. GODS. or the top secret 5-page sneak peek PDF of the sequel, GODDESS BOOT CAMP (which doesn't come out until next June). I will forward your info to the author(s) who donated the prize(s) on your day and soon your books will be in the mail!

Thank you to everyone who entered. I read each and every comment and loved all the stories and dreams and personal info you shared. I'll be posting a COOP wrap-up later this week. Come back to read about my reactions and what I've learned along the way.

Congrats to all the winners. To the non winners, I'm really sorry. There will be more contests in the future and even more chances to win. Promise.

Hugs,
TLC

The COOP Has Left the Building

The Contest of Olympic Proportion is now officially over. I will be randomly choosing winners in the next couple of hours. Check back tonight to find out the results.

Hugs,
TLC

COOP 17: Closing Ceremonies

All good things must end. (In all honesty, I suppose all crappy things must end, too. But they feel like they go on forever.) Anyway, today marks the Closing Ceremonies of the Beijing Olympics. It's been a phenomenal two weeks, and I've especially loved all the cultural pieces Mary Carillo did for NBC.


But it's time to pass the torch (and the flag) from China to England, site of the 2012 Olympic games in London! Those should be awesome, too.


Details about the Closing Ceremonies are pretty hush-hush, but there is a lot of speculation that British soccer (aka football) star David Beckham will be on hand to participate.


I'll be sad to say goodbye to Beijing, but I know that London will be just as wonderful. And maybe some of us can plan on attending?!?

And now for our final *sniff sniff* bonus prize: UNDONE by Brooke Taylor.

Kori Kitzler is the "dark angel" of her high school: beautiful, mysterious, the subject of rumors. Serena Moore is just an average girl, until a run-in with Kori in the bathroom in eighth grade. When Kori tells her that they are more alike than she thinks, Serena is instantly intrigued, and their fateful friendship begins.

When the girls are asked to complete a writing assignment listing the five things they would want to happen--their five ways to tempt fate--Serena doesn't take it seriously. But when something tragic happens to Kori, Serena is left with her loneliness and Kori's five things. Can Serena complete her best friend's tasks, or will she leave her list undone?

Sounds awesome, right? Well, to enter to win today I want you to think ahead to 2012, to the London games. What would you like to have accomplished by then? Where do you see yourself four years from now? In college or grad school or working a full-time job? Maybe you want to retire or start a new job or (gasp) become a published author.

In the next four years I'd like to think I'll have several more books published. I'd also like to find my permanent home. (I'm nomadic, and Houston is kind of a "place I am for now.") If I could find that special someone by then it would be nice, but I'm not rushing it. Oh, and I'd also like to have visited all the populated continents. So far I've only got two of six. (I want to visit Antarctica, too, but I'll put that on a longer time frame.)

CLOSING CEREMONIES CONTEST
Answer this question: What would you like to have accomplished by 2012?

PRIZES
(1) copy of OH. MY. GODS. or teaser of GODDESS BOOT CAMP
(1) copy of UNDONE by Brooke Taylor

This is the last contest. I'm accepting entries until around noon on Monday, so make sure you've entered them all. Winners of all contests will be posted on the evening of August 25th.

Quick links to the other contests:

Gold Medal Contest
COOP 1 I WANNA BE YOUR JOEY RAMONE by Stephanie Kuenhert
COOP 2 CRUEL SUMMER by Alyson Noel
COOP 3 HOW TO HOOK A HOTTIE by Tina Ferraro
COOP 4 REVENGE OF THE HOMECOMING QUEEN and TWISTED SISTERS by Stephanie Hale
COOP 5 SHRINK TO FIT by Dona Sarkar and VIOLET IN PRIVATE by Melissa Walker
COOP 6 LULU DARK CAN SEE THROUGH WALLS by Bennett Madison
COOP 7 ZETA OR OMEGA? and THE NEW SISTERS by Marley Gibson (writing as Kate Harmon)
COOP 8 YOU HAD ME AT HALO by Amanda Ashby
COOP 9 THE SPECIALISTS: MODEL SPY by Shannon Greenland
COOP 10 SLEEPLESS by Terri Clark and INVISIBLE TOUCH by Kelly Parra
COOP 11 HELL WEEK by Rosemary Clement-Moore
COOP 12 Reader's Choice from Simone Elkeles
COOP 13 GIRLS THAT GROWL by Mari Mancusi and EIGHTH GRADE BITES by Heather Brewer
COOP 14 FRENEMIES by Alexa Young
COOP 15 THE SECRET LIFE OF A TEENAGE SIREN by Wendy Toliver and BRALESS IN WONDERLAND and SWIMMING WITH THE SHARKS by Debbie Reed Fischer
COOP 16 READ MY LIPS by Teri Brown and PRINCESS OF GOSSIP by Julia DeVillers and Sabrina Bryan

Hugs,
TLC