My First Middle Grade Spotlight!
Please welcome LRS to Quill or Pill with a super fun new Middle Grade Fantasy book - check out the great giveaways at the end of the blog!
Launching Sisters to WitchCamp
LRS
BUY IT:
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Amazon
Kobo:
iTunes(iBook)
Genre: Middle grade
fantasy
Publisher: MuseItUp
Publishing
ISBN:
978-1-77127-482-1
Number of pages:
118
Word Count: 31474
Cover Artist:
Charlotte Volnek
Book Description:
Sixth-grader J.J.
learns there are no easy breaks in life.
When J.J. discovers
the opportunity to send his maddening sisters off to WitchCamp, he has
fantasies of a delightful summer. However, J.J. and his friend are soon off on
a ride they didn't anticipate -- one that lands them in a chilling mess of
witch hunts and creature feasts.
With his creative
ideas, J.J. utilizes their risky escapades to escape. But making deals with
superhuman creatures just lands them in hotter water.
Now it’s up to J.J.
to save them all from certain death by being more imaginative and daring than
ever before.
Now let's get to know the author...drum roll please!
If you met the right boy today,
would you propose tomorrow?
Finish this sentence: “Happiness is
a thing called..."
Now let's get to know the author...drum roll please!
1.
How would your mother describe you
in one word?
Stubborn
2.
What is your favorite flower?
Speaking of mother, I’d have to say the
pink rose. My earliest memory of flowers is my mom’s bush of pink roses, and I
associate it with her TLC. But in case someone is thinking of sending me one,
please don’t. Flowers yanked from their life source depress me. My husband has
learned to buy me balloons instead.
3.
What is the most insane question
you’ve ever been asked?
“Mommy, at what age will I grow eyes on
the back of my head, like you have?”
That’s when I learned to be careful of
figurative speech with kids.
4.
What word in the English language do
you wish you had invented?
Celestial.
5.
Where would you like to live?
In a house that never gets messy.
6.
What is the first quote that comes
to your mind?
Just
read this one this morning on goodreads, and it stuck in my head:
“A
really good book doesn’t need a bookmark, because you’ll never put it down long
enough to forget the page you were on.”
So true, in my case at least.
7.
What animal best describes the kind
of boy you’d be interested in?
Any tamed species.
What do you miss about your
childhood?
Not
caring about how I looked when I romped around outdoors. Now I struggle with
myself about whether or not to go to the playground if I’m not wearing a full
face of makeup.
If you could change your name,
what would you change it to?
I’m
kind of guilty of the above, as I already make use of a couple of pen names.
Perhaps another one would be Lorelai. I love the melodic sound of the “L”s.
What is the main fault in your
character?
J.J. is too self-assured to
appreciate what the significant others in his life have to offer.
Who is your favorite historical
figure?
The person who invented the shower.
Thankfully,
met him sixteen years ago, but in any case, I have too much pride to propose.
What in the world do you least
desire?
Publicity. Yes, I know that is
ironic to say when I’m in midst of a book tour, but its Launching Sisters to
WitchCamp I’m promoting, not myself.
Fulfillment.
That was awesome - thanks for subjecting yourself to my author get-to-know-you questions LRS! On to something I love...book trailers! So here you go....
Mini excerpt
“Crack open your piggy bank and we’re out of here.” I propel DaveyBoy
to Main Street, and hit the costume store. Diving in to a pile of wigs, I pull
out two that will do the job. My wig is shiny black and the hair hangs down to
my elbows. DaveyBoy’s is a brown mop of frizz, which extends halfway down his
back.
The manicurist looks like she’s ready to call the crazy house when we
saunter in to her salon and ask for fake long nails. Money does the trick,
though, and soon enough we exit with long nails polished in black.
DaveyBoy clears his throat. “Um, J.J., what exactly are we doing? Are
we going to a costume party?”
“Don’t you get it, dude? Our long hair and nails are tickets to the
WitchCamp!”
He walks straight into an electric pole.
“Ouch.” I wince.
He rubs his temple and looks at me with puppy dog eyes. “Tell me you’re
joking.”
“A man’s got to do what a man’s
got to do. But, cheer up, buddy. Think of it as an amazing adventure we can add
to our list of summer escapades.”
Excerpt #2
“Ready yourselves for your hunt. Today we will feast on your kills in
Goblinland,” a voice announces.
“I think now is the time to play hooky,” whispers DaveyBoy, the kid who
never misses a day of school.
But we’re flying through the air back to our hut and we land on our
witchy rides before I get a chance to say that I doubt they’ll let us off the
hook.
On all sides of me, witches of all shapes and sizes fly on their
mounts, leaning forward with an excited urgency. I think the trainees are
starved before the missions exactly for this reason—everyone must be much more
eager to hunt when their stomachs are growling.
There’s no driver behind me today. The wind slashes through my wig,
blowing hair in all directions, yet my clips hold fast, and it stays glued to
my head. My mount picks up speed and ascends higher in the air. I feel like I’m
riding a shooting star. I hold on with only one hand and shout out, “Whoopeee!”
The ride ends all too soon for me. We start descending on a gray
colorless land resembling the terrain on the moon.
As soon as we dismount onto a cement covered ground that looks a bit like
a parking lot, our mounts vanish into thin air.
“Where did they go?” DaveyBoy cries out, his head spinning from side to
side.
“Oh, they’re here, hovering above our heads,” a witch with braces and
red lipstick informs him. “They went invisible now so when we scatter, the
goblins won’t have a clue we’re here and come hunting us down.”
There’s a protruding ball in DaveyBoy’s throat. “Do you mean the
goblins will eat us if we get caught?”
“Oh, they’re not like us who enjoy luscious dishes made from different
species of creatures. This group in particular is vegetarian.”
“Phew! I was really scared there for a minute.”
“You can’t let down your guard, though. They may not be interested in
eating you, but you can be sure they’ll kill you if you get caught.”
DaveyBoy stumbles and I get a grip on him to steady him before he hits
the gray cement floor.
“Have your spoons at the ready, and you’ll be fine.” She pats his
shoulder with spoons she’s pulled out of her tall black boots.
DaveyBoy looks at me with a desperate question mark in his pitiful
gaze.
It’s obvious what he’s asking, and the answer is no, I didn’t bring
along my spoons. How was a recruit supposed to know that? No one told us
anything. Gosh, this camp stinks in the training department. “Did any of the
counselors bring along spares?” I ask the girl.
“No such thing, only the spoons assigned to you at your first feast
will work for you.”
“I think this is when we exit the mission,” DaveyBoy announces.
“There’s no going back. Your rides will only return you to camp when
you’ve captured at least one goblin—but all you need is one goblin for the two
of you if you’re a pair, so you should be okay.”
A whisper, carried by the wind, swirls through us. “All witches have
arrived. Hunt begins in three minutes. Ready yourselves.” Coils of rope and an
egg-shaped plastic container dances before each of us. We stick out our hands
and grab on to them. I unscrew the container. Maybe there are some magical
remote controlled bullets in here or something. The lid pops off, and I stare
inside…
Bubblegum. Loads of it.
“A snack? Now?” DaveyBoy asks.
The girl shakes her head. “No, silly, the rope and gum are your
ammunition, especially helpful for those who forgot to bring their spoons. See
what you’ve got to do.” The girl pops piece after piece of gum into her mouth
and chews vigorously, saliva dripping down her chin. She blows a huge bubble,
pops it, and takes the sticky wad out of her mouth and places it back in the
container. “Get it?”
“Not exactly,” I say. “What happens, when you pop the bubble, the
goblin pops?”
“You’re both kinda weird. No, the rope and gum are your trapping
materials. When the goblin gets stuck on the sticky wad, you tie him up with
your rope and drag him back here. Then you’ll be whisked back to camp with him,
and the butchering and cooking spells will take care of the rest. It’s really
quite simple. See?”
What I see is that we’re in for something that will either be the death
of us, or it will turn out to be another summer adventure worth writing home about.
The three minutes are up, and the witches spread out from the circle
and disperse. I motion to DaveyBoy to proceed along with me.
“I’m sweating from fear. What’s the plan, J.J.?”
“I’m thinking. Okay, the fact is we’re at a serious disadvantage, having
no magic spoons.”
He stops in his tracks and takes short deep breaths. I’m too busy
churning the gears in my brain to calm him down. He must have taken sixty-six
breaths when I figure it out.
“Surprise! Our only chance at capturing a goblin is if we use strategy,
and our best shot is to try and catch one unawares. The witches with spoons can
afford to engage in out and out warfare, but we’ve got to play this game
unfairly.”
“You can’t be serious. You know I never cheat.”
Oh boy, do I know. How many times have I tried to encourage him to copy
homework from the Internet after the bullies stole his own work, and he
stubbornly refused to “have a hand in cheating” as he calls it.
“If the goblins here are anything at all like they are in the
fairytales, then I wouldn’t at all put it past them to use some crafty tricks
too. So unless you want to be fuel to feed a goblin bonfire, cheating it is.”
About the Author:
LRS has a master’s
degree in psychology. For more than ten years she pretended to be working while
she was on the floor enjoying playtime with kids.
She has lived on
the eastern and western coasts of the U.S.A, as well as abroad, and currently
resides in Canada with her family. Wherever she is, she can’t pass by a toy
store without going inside.
When she's not
writing, she can usually be found in her kitchen, where she’s either baking
(and sampling) cookies or stirring a pot. (Unfortunately, she has yet to find a
magical spoon.)
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