The Idea Of You by Darcy Burke

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THE IDEA OF YOU

Ribbon Ridge #4

Darcy Burke

Releasing November 17th, 2015

Avon Books

Evan Archer has always preferred peace and solitude to the loud antics of his large, hard-to-navigate family. But when Archer Enterprises needs a new creative director, Evan jumps at the chance to claim the job he’s always wanted. Moving home is easier than he expected, but Evan isn’t prepared for the stunning A-list celebrity hiding out in his family’s garage apartment.

Following a major tabloid scandal, movie star Alaina Pierce escapes to Ribbon Ridge. She’s immediately drawn to the quiet, picturesque town and the incredibly sexy—if a little quirky—Evan. He may be built like a Greek god, but he’s honest and straightforward… so different from the Hollywood types she normally dates.

Their attraction is undeniable, but Alaina can’t elude the paparazzi forever, and Evan has no interest in being in the limelight. When the secret she’s been keeping is exposed, the idea of Evan—of real love and a family like the Archers—could vanish in an instant.

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“How were you moderately famous? Wait, I remember. That reality show with the sextuplets.”

He flicked her a quick glance. “You watched it?” The show had ended almost fifteen years ago, but Evan remembered it the way one never forgot the most unpleasant moments of one’s life.

“No, sorry. Sean told me about it.”

Evan noted the cookie sheet on the stovetop. It bore slender blackened strips. “Is that bacon?”

She groaned. “Yes. I read somewhere that you could broil bacon in the oven, that it was less messy than cooking it in a pan on the stove.”

“But you burned it.” Hence the smoke. “Did you forget about it?”

“Yes, actually. My assistant called, and I went into the bedroom to talk to her. Next thing I knew, the alarm was going off and smoke was clogging the apartment. Please apologize to your mother for me. I’m surprised you’re the only one who came running.”

Evan didn’t know for sure, but he suspected his parents were out. They’d been going on a lot of date nights lately. It helped them keep their minds off the one-year anniversary of his brother Alex’s suicide a couple of weeks ago. “I was coming back from a walk.”

More or less. Actually, he was getting pretty good at the lying thing, now that he thought about it.

“In the dark?”

He heard the surprise in her question. That was one inflection he could usually discern. Plus, even he knew walking in the near-dark in February was perhaps . . . odd. He shrugged. “It’s not totally dark yet.”

“Oh, okay.” Was that sarcasm? He couldn’t be sure. He also couldn’t care less.

Intellectually, he registered that her being here was extraordinary—something he probably ought to have picked up on when he’d first come into the apartment. She was a world-famous actress, someone he’d seen in countless movies and whose talent he admired. “Why are you staying here?”

“I’m, uh, hiding out.”

“Why?”

“Just stupid famous-person stuff. The paparazzi were annoying me.”

He’d hated the fame that had come along with their reality show. Everyone in Ribbon Ridge knew who they were, which he supposed was to be expected even without a show, given the size of the town. However, it was one thing to be acquainted with people and another for them to think they knew you on an intimate level, as if you were friends. He imagined it might be like that times a hundred for Alaina. “That has to be hard. Your life really isn’t your own. When we did the show, people were always talking to me like they knew me, like I was their buddy.”

She cocked her head to the side. “You totally get it. That’s . . . weird. I mean, cool, but weird. Most people don’t remotely understand.”

“But you signed up for that, right?” He hadn’t. His parents had agreed to put them all on the show when an old family friend had pitched the idea. After the third season, they’d pulled the plug because of Evan’s discomfort—something no one knew. Hmm, apparently he could keep secrets, too. Good to know.

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Darcy Burke is the USA Today bestselling author of hot, action-packed historical and sexy, emotional contemporary romance. Darcy wrote her first book at age 11, a happily-ever-after about a swan addicted to magic and the female swan who loved him, with exceedingly poor illustrations.

A native Oregonian, Darcy lives on the edge of wine country with her guitar-strumming husband, their two hilarious kids-who each seem to have inherited the writing gene in some form-and two Bengal cats. In her "spare" time Darcy is a serial volunteer enrolled in a 12-step program where one learns to say "no," but she keeps having to start over. Her happy places are Disneyland and Labor Day weekend at the Gorge.

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Super Middle Grade Mondays: Author Spotlight – Michael Gibney with Giveaway #SuperMGMondays

 

Welcome to this week’s Super Middle Grade Mondays presented by Tantrum Books/Month9books!

Today, we get up close and personal with

Michael Gibney

author of The Three Thorns (The Brotherhood and the Shield #1) from Tantrum Books.

Be sure to enter the giveaway found at the end of the post!

 

 

Michael Gibney began working in restaurants at the age of sixteen and assumed his first sous chef position at twenty-two. He ascended to executive sous chef at Tavern on the Green, where he managed an eighty-person staff. He has worked in the kitchens of Morgans Hotel Group, 10 Downing in Manhattan, and Governor in Brooklyn’s DUMBO, among many others. Over the course of his career, he has had the opportunity to work alongside cooks and chefs from many of the nation’s best restaurants, including Alinea, Per Se, Eleven Madison Park, Daniel, Jean Georges, Le Bernardin, Bouley, Ducasse, Corton, wd~50, and Momofuku.

In addition to his experience in the food service industry, Gibney also holds a BFA in painting from Pratt Institute and an MFA in nonfiction writing from Columbia University. He lives in Brooklyn, New York.

Connect with the Author:

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Would You Rather With Michael Gibney

 

Would you rather never be able to speak again or always have to say everything that is on your mind?

Everything that is on my mind. I value honesty and the power of words, both written and audible. It’s not in my nature to stay silent, especially concerning injustice i.e. Animal Cruelty, etc.

 

Would you rather be able to read or be able to read minds (but be illiterate)?

I can do both. Haha. Read. I’d find reading people’s minds an invasion of their privacy, unless it was to help them.

 

Would you rather be able to speak fluently every language in the world or be the best in the world at something of your choosing?

Be the best in the world at something. Reason being I love the fact that learning another language is a feeling of achievement and an exciting challenge. I wouldn’t want that challenge made easy.

 

Would you rather read only one book over and over for the rest of your life or read as many as you want but never remember what they’re about?

Oh, tough one. Well, if you can’t remember there’s not much point. Seems like a waste of time and effort for nothing, so I’d go for reading one book and that would be J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan (aka Peter and Wendy). The best fantasy book ever written in my opinion. So simple but yet such Genius.

 

Would you rather only the first page of a book or the last page?

Last Page. I always have to find out how a story ends.

 

Would you rather read 5 pages per day or 5 books per week?

Five books a week if I could and had the time. Knowledge is power.

 

Would you rather read only one genre forever or never read the same genre more than once?

One genre forever because you’d quickly run out of genres, right? And there’s plenty of amazing books and various sub-genres to be found in the Sci-Fi and Horror genre. Not so much in the romance genre.

 

Would you rather be invisible or be able to read minds?

Invisible. Would be so much fun but not if it’s like the Predator or Hollowman/The Invisible Man. That would suck.

 

Would you rather never use the internet again or never watch TV again?

Never watch TV again. There’s too much sad news and superficial reality shows on TV these days and not to mention a cluster of commercials. Yes, give me the Internet, so I can watch the art, music, movies I want and keep in contact with those I love around the world. Much better than a one way street of TV.

 

Would you rather have one wish granted today or three granted in 10 years?

Definitely one wish granted today. Life is unpredictable and short. We’re not guaranteed anything. Also, I hate waiting. Patience is a virtue. Possess it if you can. Seldom in a woman, but never in a man.

 

Would you rather know it all or have it all?

Have it all. I’m a deep enough thinker and have a strong enough imagination as it is and that can be quite exhausting. So, knowing it all would drive me crazy. Plus, one would be viewed as pretentious and arrogant if they had the ability to know it all. And both are not good attributes. =)

 

Three brothers born to a once powerful King were abandoned at birth and cast out into the old world as orphans - alone and unaware of the other's existence or their royal heritage.

In the new world, by order of the false King, three of the most lethal assassins are sent to kill the children before they come of age and avenge their father’s throne.

But when the brothers find one another, Benjamin, Tommy and Sebastian must resist the temptation of magic and power if they are to defeat the unspeakable evil that has threatened them since birth.

The Three Thorns is book one in an exciting children’s fantasy series called The Brotherhood and the Shield from debut author Michael Gibney.

Chapters Indigo | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | TBD | Indiebound | Google Play | BAM | iBooks

 

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Jo Barney's Henlit Titles: Her Last Words, The Runaway and Never Too Late

Welcome to the tour stop of for blog tour for the author Jo Barney for her three Henlit titles: Her Last Words, The Runaway and Never Too Late.  The tour runs from November 9 – 13 and will consist of reviews, guest posts, interviews and excerpts.  The full schedule can be seen here.

ABOUT JO BARNEY'S BOOKS:

HER LAST WORDS

9/2015

Every summer four old friends flock together at Madge’s seaside house to swap stories and sip wine. Throughout divorces, children, and new marriages, only the beach house and the sisterhood that comes with it, hold constant. This time, though, something is different

Madge, the writer friend who brought them all together, is acting strange. She asks them for a risky, unthinkable favor. And then one morning, she disappears.

In Madge’s absence, her friends discover the unfinished manuscript to what will be her final novel. It is the story of past forty years of their lives, a story that may reshape their futures.

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THE RUNAWAY

9/2015

Ellie is in her sixties, gruff and independent. She doesn’t expect much from life; it’s broken enough promises to her. The only ugliness in the world Ellie can truly clean up is the graffiti marring mailboxes in her neighborhood, and she centers her days around this as one of the few acts that gives her a little peace.

When a fifteen-year-old goth girl appears offering to help, Ellie is surprised—and suspicious. Sarah has been shunted from house to house in the foster care system. Now she’s run away from a forest camp managed by a tyrannical, enigmatic man…. But escape is not that easy, and soon she finds her life in danger. And Ellie may be wrapped up in this more deeply than either imagined.

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NEVER TOO LATE

Decades ago, a shotgun wedding locked Edith into a life with a husband she’s not sure she ever loved. At sixty-five, she feels like a ghost in her own life, wondering where all this came from: the scornful husband, the mercenary brood of grandchildren, her well-meaning but controlling daughter-in-law. Then one Christmas morning Edith wakes to find her husband dead, and the role she played for so long crumbling. Gray-haired, but by no means done with life, Edith has a chance to discover the woman she could have been.

Soon questions arise about her husband’s death, and papers discovered in his pockets send Edith unraveling secrets of the man she thought she knew. Edith’s son Brian is the focus of her life, but he may not be as perfect as she thought. Revelations that he might be cheating shock her. As Edith investigates the mysteries of her family, she may just find who she truly is.

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EXCERPT FROM “HER LAST WORDS”

“My God,” Lucius says, as close to praying as he has been in years. “We’re on Venus.” Monoliths rise ahead of him like black specters, their crags and angles cutting through the mist, jutting towards the high, bluing sky.

The others, silent, have dropped their handholds on the rope. Lucius bends to loop it over his arm, and as he does, he sees the man in the slicker, his bag over his shoulder, kneeling, rising, waving at them.

“That guy’s found something. Let’s go.”

He runs, slogs, really, his boots heavy with water. The women in their sneakers move faster, their arms reaching out to the dark figure and whatever lay at the foot of the rock he’s leaning against. Lucius cannot tell if it is the gulls or the women crying out.

Then they drop to their knees, a huddle of sorrow. They don’t look up as Lucius and the two firemen come up behind them. The mussel gatherer, his empty bag hanging from one grimy hand, a walking stick in the other, stands to one side, his eyes red and wild-looking, his sou’wester pulled down to his eyebrows. Hanks of wet, black hair drag over his eyes, drain down his cheeks like tears.

Madge Slocum lies wedged under an overhang, her face gray. Sand seeps from her mouth. A strand of seaweed wraps her out-flung hand like a bracelet, her bare feet seem ready to run, the toes spread, arched. An arm folds over her body, across a pack strapped to her waist. Several mussels have fallen from the pack and nestle at her throat.

“She came here for mussels,” Lou cries. “For us.” The women reach for her. They grapple with the iron until it falls, and they pull it away from her. Their fingers close her eyes, brush grit away from her lips. They remove the pack and empty it of its black shells. Joan crouches, takes a hand, massages it as if to warm it. Jackie closes the torn jacket, covers the white skin under it.

The ocean ripples as it awakens. White-edged swirls send the little birds skittering.

EXCERPT FROM “THE RUNAWAY” 

Sarah

September 2009

I can remember every second of that last graffiti patrol with Ellie. Maybe it’s the meds they’re feeding me, or maybe I’m a little crazy right now. The nurse says I probably should be with all the stuff I’ve gone through in the past couple of weeks, Ellie at the center of it all.

It was chilly that morning, and we shivered a little as we headed toward the first mailbox, me, in my punk clothes, Ellie in her old lady sweatshirt and red sneakers. She had her supplies and towels in an old shopping bag, like usual, and I could tell she was still mad at me, at my knowing how the graffiti got on the boxes. I was thinking about that, too, but she didn’t know the whole story, not then.

“Spray!” Ellie ordered, and I stopped remembering and pointed the bottle at the mailbox in front of me. We scrubbed, Ellie not talking to me yet. After a couple of minutes, the black polish on my nails began to melt like the paint scrawls we were working on. Ellie muttered “Good” when she saw me rubbing at them. As soon as the box was as clean as Graffiti X could get it, we headed toward the next one. By the time we got to the street with the big trees, I was hot and glad for what little shade was left, the limbs above me almost bare. Leaves crunched under my boots.

Then I stumbled and heard the heel of my boot snap. Shit, my only shoes was my first thought. I had to walk like a cripple, one leg short, one long.  

“Take ’em off!” Ellie said, shaking her gray head at me. “Stupid to wear boots like that; you look like a baby hooker.” I watched where I was going, hoping I wouldn’t step on dog poop or something yucky hidden under the leaves. That’s when I saw the white basketball shoe sticking up from a pile of debris at the curb. Someone must have lost it. Except that the shoe also had a sock in it. And in the sock, a leg.

 EXCERPT FROM “NEVER TOO LATE”

I poke a foot out from under a tangled sheet. Find some joy! yesterday’s horoscope had advised me. Right now, I’ll settle for coffee. The air is morning-warm, the furnace groaning somewhere under me. I push the covers to one side, turn toward Art’s flannelled back, the wall he builds between us when he comes to our bed. 

I know I’m being mean-spirited, a disposition Christmas always delivers like a seasonal virus. Joy, I tell myself again and touch Art’s hump of a shoulder, give it a poke. If I have to get up, layer the cheese strata, set the table, pick up yesterday’s newspapers, he at least can help by turning on the tree lights and starting the fire in the fireplace. Shit! I’ve forgotten the stockings. They, and the stuff I’ve collected to fill them, are piled in a box in the closet. I shake him a little harder. “Get up!” 

Art rolls over on his back. His blue eyes stare up at the ceiling fixture hanging above his head. His mouth is open, as if he’s about to snore, but he isn’t rasping, gurgling, even blinking. 

I raise myself up on an elbow. I pat his arm, bring my hand up to touch his cheek. His skin feels like that of an unripe peach, hard under whiskery fuzz. Cold.

“Art?” 

My ear grazes his mouth as I listen for a breath. Silence. I press my hand against his chest, feel his pajama buttons with shaking fingers.

“Art?”

Art is dead.

It isn’t as if I never imagined him dying, leaving me to finish my life alone. At those times, the idea hadn’t been frightening, maybe even the opposite. A new life for me once he was gone, I envisioned, a better life, maybe. But this actual moment is not part of that scene. I drop my head back to my pillow and try to figure out what to do. My breath isn’t taking hold. I seem to be leaking at the seams, lungs empty, about to be as dead as Art.

After graduating from Willamette University, Jo spent the most of next thirty years teaching, counseling, mothering, wifing, and of course, writing.

Her writing first appeared in small literary magazines and professional publications. Since retirement, she has had time to write four novels and two screenplays.

Her stories and essays, as well as the novels, reflect her observations of women’s lives and the people who inhabit them: the children, husbands, parents, friends, and strangers who happen by and change everything.

Author Links:

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His Work Of Art ~ Racing Hearts ~ A Taste Of Sake

Title: His Work of Art
Author: Shannyn Schroeder
Release Date: October 27, 2015
Publisher: Lyrical Press
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Format: Ebook

Reese Carter is definitely not your average college girl. She’d prefer to spend 

Saturday nights playing Hero’s Crusade than attending a wild frat party on campus. When she bands together with Adam, fellow comic enthusiast and illustrator, it appears that Reese has formed a dream team sure to propel her writing into the comic hall of fame.

Adam Hayes has never met a girl like Reese. She’s sassy, smart, and loves talking comics, although he can’t see why she’d choose DC over Marvel. He’s thrilled to finally put his artistic chops to use in their upcoming comic project. But. this relationship is strictly professional. Or so he tells himself. When the two combine forces, they churn out magic in more ways than they had planned; they never expected to develop a steamy romantic sub-plot of their own…

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Shannyn is a former English teacher, who now works as a part-time editor while raising her three kids. Even though she wrote from high school through college (mostly poetry), she’d never considered a career as an author. Writing fell by the wayside as she focused her energy on creating lesson plans and new and fabulous ways to torment her teen students. One group in particular dubbed her “The Torture Master,” a title she carried into motherhood.

After the birth of baby number two, Shannyn resigned from teaching and fell in love with reading romance novels. She read so many books so quickly that her husband teased, “If you’re going to read so many damn books, why don’t you just write one?”

So she did.

That first book is safely buried on her hard drive, but the process set Shannyn on the path to where she is today—agented with a debut ebook coming out with Kensington in late 2012.

She is recovering from her Diet Coke addiction, fears putting her foot in her mouth on social media, and has a renewed appreciation for the bad girls of the world. Shannyn is represented by Frances Black and Jennifer Mishler of Literary Counsel.

Author Links:

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Title: Racing Hearts
Author: Melissa West
Release Date: October 27, 2015
Publisher: Lyrical Shine
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Format: Ebook

In the lush heart of Kentucky, the Hamiltons are horse racing royalty, born to produce champions. To win takes heart and soul—and to love takes the wild spirit of the land itself...

The oldest of three headstrong brothers, Trip Hamilton is considered the best horse trainer in the world. But he learned long ago to keep his focus on the horses and away from the riders. He’s seen the way heartbreak can waylay a career, and he’s determined not to risk it—until a stubborn, sexy rider thunders into his life, breaks his resolve, along with several of his rules, and takes his heart right out of the gate...

Emery Carlisle has a point to prove. She’ll be the first woman to win the prestigious Kentucky Derby, if only Trip will hire her, and let her ride the spirited colt she fell for at first sight. He won’t—unless she agrees to train with the horse at Hamilton Stables, under his guidance. It’s supposed to be strictly business, but as the race approaches, and their undeniable chemistry builds, Trip and Emery may be headed for the greatest win of all—as long as the losses of the past don’t gain on them...

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Melissa West writes heartfelt Southern romance and teen sci-fi romance, all with lots of kissing. Because who doesn’t like kissing? She lives outside of Atlanta, GA with her husband and two daughters and spends most of her time writing, reading, or fueling her coffee addiction.

Connect with Melissa at www.melissawestauthor.com or on Twitter @MB_West.

Visit Melissa’s website.

Author Links:

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Title: A Taste of Sake
Author: Heather Heyford
Release Date: October 27, 2015
Publisher: Lyrical Shine
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Format: Ebook

As author Heather Heyford pours a final glass in her series following three Napa wine heiresses, a newcomer must work her way into a tightly-knit family whose bond has been fermenting for years...

Though they each have their own ambitions and are known to be competitive—even with each other—the St. Pierre sisters are fiercely loyal. Chardonnay and Merlot are thrilled about Sauvignon’s wedding day, and it’s slated to be the soirée of the decade among Napa’s most elite residents. Given the family’s notoriety, it almost stands to reason that their eccentric father, Xavier, would arrive by helicopter. But no one could have anticipated the wedding surprise he’d brought along with him...

The product of one of Xavier’s many affairs, Sake is introduced as the half-Japanese sister the St. Pierre girls never knew they had. She struggles to break into clique-ish Napa society—and getting in with her sisters is proving more difficult than nabbing a ’74 Cabernet. It seems only high-end realtor Bill Diamond can tell there’s more to Sake than meets the eye. Afraid of repeating her mother’s mistakes, Sake just hopes that getting drunk on love won’t leave her with a hangover of rejection...

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Born in the Northeast, Heather Heyford learned to walk and talk in Texas, and then moved to England.

“Ya’ll want some scones?”

While in Europe, Heather was forced by her cruel parents to spend Saturdays in the leopard vinyl back seat of their Peugeot, motoring from one medieval pile to the next for the lame purpose of ‘learning something.’ What she soon learned was how to allay the boredom by stashing a Cosmo under the seat. Now a recovering teacher, Heather writes love stories, feeds hardboiled eggs to suburban foxes, and makes art in the Mid-Atlantic. She is represented by the Nancy Yost Literary Agency (NYLA, @nyliterary) in New York City.

Author Links:

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Ditch Flowers by Amanda Linsmeier

Welcome to the tour stop of for Ditch Flowers by Amanda Linsmeier, a women's fiction novel.  The tour runs from November 2 - 6 and will consist of reviews, guest posts, interviews and excerpts.  The full schedule can be seen here.

ABOUT THE BOOK:

Trouble comes in threes, Grandma CeCe always said…

A baby. Just holding one sets Julia’s heart thumping. She’s wanted a child for so long. When she finally gets pregnant, she’s bursting to tell the world….until a checkup from the doctor confirms a miscarriage.

Julia’s world feels like it’s dissolving. This second tragedy following her father-in-law’s death, shakes her and her husband Greg. To support his mother, they uproot their lives and move to Greg’s childhood home. Under the bright Midwestern sky, Julia can feel a new world and new hope beginning.But trouble comes in threes, and soon a boy shows up at Julia’s new daycare whose blue eyes and freckled face look eerily like Greg’s. Despite her love for her husband, Julia finds her thoughts haunted by the boy’s face, and she can’t shake the feeling that her husband has a secret.

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EXCERPT

I sift through bubble wrap and tissue paper. I pull out a wooden box the color of chestnuts, two silver pocket watches, and a small painting of flowers and stones.

“Your dad’s?” I say.

Greg nods. “My mom asked if she could send these things. Nothing particularly sentimental, but I thought you’d like to do something with them for the house.”

“So thoughtful,” I say. “And I would love to have your dad’s things here.” There’s also a box within, marked Fragile in curvy handwriting. I open it and pull off more layers of bubble wrap. Inside is a bottle of cranberry wine, made by Greg’s father.

I hold the smooth, clear glass bottle filled with pale, rosy liquid. I touch the edge of the clean, modern label which Dale had designed a few years ago. The logo is a circle of twisted grape vines and leaves surrounding the name of the wine beneath the words Twisted Circle.

Greg’s eyes are sad as he touches one of the watches. He returned home from the funeral with some photos, an old signed football from the Green Bay Packers, Dale’s wedding band, and a few other items. They sit atop his dresser now. He hasn’t wanted to put them anywhere else.

“Hey,” I say. “Should we cancel date night and stay in?”

“We don’t have to.”

“No, let’s. We can order pizza, watch bad TV.” I perform a suggestive little shimmy.              “Have some sex.”

I finally get a smile out of him.

“Maybe try to make a baby.”

“That sounds like a good night to me.” He tugs me close again, kisses me deep.

“Right now?” I ask with a giggle.

He’s not laughing. He kisses me with a kind of built-up fervor. He reaches down to me, and I gasp. I pull him close as we recline on the couch and can’t help but feel a little thrill. I’ve been off birth control for a month, since right after our wedding. I remember how we discussed starting a family while curled up in bed by the light of the night. We spoke in eager, hushed tones as we planned our future and decided to take the leap into parenthood, in a way that felt both amazingly responsible and yet childishly exciting. The truth is I can’t wait. I wonder if tonight will be the night.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Amanda Linsmeier’s work has appeared on Brain, Child Magazine, WOW! Women on Writing, and Portage Magazine. She works part-time at her local library and brings home more books than she has time to read. Amanda lives in the countryside with her husband and children, two dogs, and half-wild cat. Ditch Flowers is her first novel.

Visit Amanda at her 

Website, Twitter, Facebook, or Pinterest.

Dream On, Amber by Emma Shevah

Title: Dream On, Amber 

Author: Emma Shevah 

Release Date: October 6, 2015 

Publishers: Sourcebooks Jabberwocky

Synopsis

My name is Ambra Alessandra Leola Kimiko Miyamoto. But call me Amber. I have no idea why my parents gave me all those hideous names but they must have wanted to ruin my life,  and you know what? They did an amazing job.

As a half-Japanese, half-Italian girl with a ridiculous name, Amber’s not feeling molto bene (very good) about making friends at her new school. 

But the hardest thing about being Amber is that a part of her is missing. Her dad.  He left when she was little and he isn’t coming back. Not for her first day of middle school  and not for her little sister’s birthday. So Amber will have to dream up a way for the Miyamoto sisters to make it on their own.

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Praise for Dream On, Amber

“By turns playful and poignant, in both style and substance, this coming-of-age novel will hook readers from the first page to the last.”— School Library Journal , STARRED  review 

“Amber’s effervescent and opinionated narration captivates from the start, making it easy to root for her as she strives to conquer the “beast” of her worries and thrive at home  and at school.”— Publishers Weekly , STARRED review 

“Shevah tenderly captures the void of growing up without a father yet manages to create a feisty, funny heroine… A gutsy girl in a laugh-out-loud book that navigates tough issues  with finesse.” –Kirkus , STARRED review 

“[This] novel is a charmer...While its humor and illustrations lend it Wimpy Kid appeal, its emotional depth makes it stand out from the pack. Molto bene!”- Booklist , STARRED review

Excerpt

Bella came in wearing her matching pink nightdress, pink dressing gown, and pink slippers with Hello Kitty all over them. I just don’t get why people like Hello Kitty. I know  it’s Japanese and supposed to be kawaii (cute) and everything, so maybe I should like it, but it’s just a picture of a cartoon cat’s head. I mean, seriously, what’s the big deal? 

Bella’s hands were behind her back like she was hiding something. She looked much happier than she did when we got home from the party. She moved her arms  to the front and handed me a sealed envelope. 

“What’s this?” I asked, putting my sharpener down. 

“Can you mail it for me tomorrow?” 

I looked at the front of the envelope. There was nothing written on it. 

“But it’s blank, Bella.” 

“Yuuup.” 

“Who’s it for?” 

“None of your beeswax, Mrs. Nosy Pants.” 

“Um…okay. So you…you want me to put it in the mailbox?” 

“Yes, Amber. Duuuh. That’s what mailing means.” 

“But how is the mailman going to know who to give it to if it has no name on it?” 

“Oh,” she said, frowning. 

She lay down on her belly on the floor and with her red crayon from the dollar store (well, she wasn’t borrowing any of mine), she wrote on the front of the envelope: “ TO  MY DAD. ” 

I looked at her. 

“Bella—” 

“Shush,” she said. “Just mail it for me.” 

“But there’s no address on it—” 

“The mailman will know where he lives. He knows where everyone lives.” 

“He won’t know where Dad lives. Nobody knows where Dad lives. Not even Mum.” 

“Didn’t I say ‘shush’? I’m sure I said ‘shush.’ Just mail it for me. Pleeease, Amber.” 

I sighed. What was I supposed to tell her? She was too little. She didn’t get it. So I took it and put it on my desk, just to make her happy. 

I know I shouldn’t have done it and it’s probably against the law and everything but when she went out of my room, I opened it. 

It said: 

  

Dier Dad, 

My nam is Bella and Im your dorta. My bithday party is on Sunday 16 Speptmbr and I rely want you too come. And I neid you to play with me in the park and posh me on the swing. Please  come home 

love, Bella 

P.S. Please buy me a perpel Swatch wach and Sparkle Girl Julerry Makar for my bithday. 

I didn’t know what to do. Obviously, I wasn’t going to mail it without an address on it. So instead, I put it in my secret place. If you pull the bottom drawer of my dresser all  the way out, there’s a space under it on the floor where I put my most sacred things. I had a coin that I found in Hyde Park that I’m sure is Roman or Viking and one day I’m going to sell it and get mega rich. I had a few other cool things in there too. Some  of them are embarrassing, like key-rings I made out of lanyard strings when I was, like, seven and valentine cards my mum sent me. Stuff you can’t exactly throw out but really don’t want anyone to see. The letter wasn’t one of my sacred things but where else  was I going to put it? 

I also had a picture of my dad holding me when I was a baby that I sneaked out of Nonna’s album. Obviously, we have a whole bunch of photos of him in that album, but I wanted  one for myself. One of him with me. Just to prove to myself that he did actually exist and hold me once, and he even looked proud. I don’t look at that photo much because it makes me angry. I know it doesn’t make sense to keep it, but there you go. Not everything  makes sense. If it did, he would never have left in the first place. 

There was another knock on my door, so I quickly closed the drawer. 

“Hang on… Okay, you can come in now.” 

Bella stuck her head in. 

“When do you think he’ll get it?” she asked. 

“Well, they have to find him first. It’s not easy, you know. It takes teams of detectives months to find missing people.” 

She walked in to my room and said, “Oh,” and did that thing where she points her toes inward and puts one foot over the other, like her toes are hugging. 

“Do you think he’ll get it before my birthday?” 

“I don’t know, Bella. I don’t think so. But if by some weird miracle he did get it before then, I’m sure he’d come to your party.” 

Bella unhugged her toes and put her hands on her hips. “Amber?” 

“Mmm?” 

“How do you know I want Dad to come to my party?” 

Oops . 

“Well, it’s kind of obvious, Bella. You did ask if he’d get it before your birthday.” 

“Oh,” she said, frowning. “Hmm. Well, okay.” And she skipped back to her room. 

The letter wasn’t my biggest problem at that point. I was so worried about starting my new school in the morning that I couldn’t get to sleep for ages. When  you can’t sleep, your mind starts going a bit doolally. Well, mine does anyway. I start thinking all kinds of crazy things. And eventually the problem with Bella and her letter worked its way into my churning brain. 

It was kind of mean and everything but there were times I really wished Bella wasn’t my sister. But knowing there was a huge hole where our dad was supposed to be wasn’t much  fun either. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that maybe, just maybe, I could do something about it. I could save Bella from years of torture with one quick solution.  

It seemed straightforward enough. 

I decided to pretend to be my dad and write back to her, you know, to make her feel better. 

And that was it. 

Paff! 

The most ingenious idea I’ve ever had lit up my mind like a firework. 

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Meet the Author

Emma Shevah is half-Irish and half-Thai born and raised in London. She has lived in Australia, Japan, India (her first child was born in  the Himalayas) and Jerusalem before moving back to the UK. Emma has busked as a fire-juggler, been a restaurant manager, a copy writer, an English teacher, and is now a blogger and author.

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