Struck by Conscience--Released TODAY!!

Struck By Conscience (short novella) Book 1 in the Faery Guardian Series I, Charisma Mansfield, do solemnly swear that... I never asked to be popular. I never asked to be voted Prom Queen. I definitely never asked to have an invisible pixie perched on my shoulder whispering her opinions into my ear 24/7. But of all the things I never asked for, this is the worst one yet—when brooding but gorgeous Heath Ruvelas (my next door neighbor and the guy I used to be best friends with before jr. high) rescued me from drowning in the school pool. My already bizarre life would never be the same. My head had been in a fog since the near drowning episode. It now hit me how very quiet it was—in my head that is. It was never quiet there. Dahlia constantly lambasted me with her fairy-like speech. Oh dear God! Had she drowned in the pool? I couldn’t feel her anymore. She wasn’t perched on my shoulder like usual. She was gone! ₪₪₪ My mom came to get me a half an hour later. She’d brought me some dry clothes and sported an overanxious expression. “Charisma, oh good Lord, are you okay?” Yes, my mother had named me Charisma. Charisma Elaine Mansfield. Was it any wonder that I’d been included as one of the popular trend-setters at school? It’s like I didn’t even have a choice with a name like that. But really, Charisma? Other than the actress who’d starred on that TV show, Angel, have you ever heard of anyone with this unfortunate designation? Perhaps an exotic dancer? The nurse calmed down my mother and then released me into her care. Ironic, right? I convinced Mom to walk down to the pool with me, having made the excuse that I’d left something behind. It was true. I had lost something: Dahlia. She could be a great nuisance at times, but she’d been with me as far back as I could remember. Dahlia is what my mother called my conscience when I was little. At seven years old, I tried to convince her that Dahlia really existed. She didn’t believe me, and I’d never mentioned her since. Over time, I’ve discovered that she’s more of a pixie than a conscience. I’ve never seen her only felt her and heard her. She’s invisible and not able to show herself to mere mortals. The thing about having a pixie with me 24/7 is that I’ve never been able to verbalize all the things I’m thinking and feeling even when I’m alone because, of course, Dahlia will hear. Even then she always seems to know what I’m thinking and at times her thoughts come out of my mouth as if I had no control. After nearly eighteen years, I wish I could get rid of her. But not like this. Not drowned because of my stupidity. We made it to the gate of the pool, and I cautiously walked beside my mother toward the water, my legs still feeling a bit shaky. It’s not like I wanted to land in the drink again. “Over beside that bench, Mom. That’s where I left my book.” It was a lie. I hadn’t left a book. It was Dahlia. I had to find her. Please, please, I prayed silently. Please let her be okay. “Dahlia,” I whispered close to the water. “Please, don’t be dead. I’d give anything if…” “If what?” For a split second, I felt that odd but familiar sensation near my shoulder. She wasn’t dead! “Dahlia, you’re okay.” “Of course, I am. You didn’t think a little water could take me out, did you?” “No, well, yes, I did. I was worried.” “I told you to stay away from the pool, but you didn’t listen.” “I know. You were right…again.” “Yes, but at least Heath came to your rescue. I should have known that gimlet of a boyfriend of yours would be useless in an emergency situation.” “Dahlia…” “Shh! Here comes your mother.” When we couldn’t find my fictitious book, Mom took me to the car and drove me home. On the ride, I wondered what had happened to Brett. Okay, if the truth be told, it was more than likely Dahlia who had whispered the idea into my ear. I didn’t respond to her because Mom would find it entirely suspect if I started talking to myself. I gave that up in second grade. Still, the thought remained. What had happened to Brett? He hadn’t followed me to the nurse’s office as far as I knew. Did he care that I’d nearly died? I did! I nearly died and I would have if it hadn’t been for Heath. Available Now at Whimsical Publications.

Sorry I've Been MIA

Sorry I haven't been here in awhile. Due to some personal issues and a possible surgery, I have not been able to update the blog. After one of our guests wasn't able to attend, I put the YA guest bloggers on hold for awhile but we should get that back on track starting this summer.

But come by when you can because I hope to have more posts in the weeks to come.

Take care,
C.K. Green

Guest Blogger Tomorrow

Don't forget to stop by tomorrow for guest blogger, award winning author of urban fantasy and medieval historic romantic suspense for both the Young Adult and Adult--Terry Spear. You can visit Terry's website at http://www.terryspear.com.

See you Tomorrow!

Vote for Your Fav Period Drama

I added a Poll for your Favorite Period Drama to the blog. Yes, I am a self admitted Period Drama fanatic. Don't believe me? Visit my YouTube channel-JaneJunkie--and check out my fan vids and a glimpse of my favorite man in a cravat. Go ahead and vote. The Poll closes at the end of the month. Hope everyone is having a good weekend.

Socially Unacceptable

Well, as promised, we have a guest Young Adult author with us today. I hope you will welcome Maryann Miller as she talks to us about being 'Socially Unacceptable.' I know we've all probably 'been there done that'. And be sure to check out her book, Friends Forever.

We all remember those horrible days of middle school and high school when our social standing depended on who we were friends with and what kind of clothes we wore. Other than a change of setting and a change of attire, I’m sure the social posturing started in ancient times when Garthea was kicked out of the clan for inappropriate use of a bear skin and continues unaltered through present time.

When I was in high school, I was in the Outcast group. You remember that group. It was made up of kids who didn’t belong to the Popular group, the Jocks, or the Nerds. Among the many things that made us socially unacceptable was the fact that we were a bit lacking in the looks department. Not that any of us had faces that would make little kids run away screaming, we were just plain, ordinary, and some of us wore glasses. That alone was a severe stigma in high school in the 60s.

I remember meeting a former classmate a year out of high school, and laughing at his reaction. “You’re not THAT Maryann,” he said. “You can’t be. She was… uh… well… You sure have changed.”

We in the Outcasts were also not quite good enough athletically to be on a sport team, and some of us just hid our brain power because we didn’t want to be with the Nerds. In our minds, that group was lower than ours, even though most folks thought otherwise.

One of the things I liked best about belonging to the Outcasts, was I could pretty much do anything I wanted and it wouldn’t affect my standing. Think about it. I was already on the lowest rung of the ladder. So I just clung to it the best I could and looked forward to the day when I would be out of high school and this silliness of social groupings would end.

I hadn’t realized how this social phenomenon repeats itself until one day when my oldest daughter was lamenting the fact that her best friend had suddenly qualified for the Popular group, while she was still relegated to something closer to Outcast. Overnight it had become socially unacceptable for said friend to associate with my daughter. I was in the middle of my Mommy Speech 112, telling her to buck up, that this, too, shall pass, when I realized it wouldn’t.

People may grow up, but they don’t really grow up, and it seems we are destined to play these silly little social games until the day we die. The way we play them just becomes more subtle and harder to figure out.

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Maryann Miller has won numerous writing awards including being a semi-finalist at the Sundance Institute for her screenplay, A Question Of Honor. Her work has appeared in regional and national publications, and the Rosen Publishing Group in New York published her non-fiction books for teens, including the award-winning Coping with Weapons and Violence In School and On Your Streets. Her young adult novel, Friends Forever, which was inspired by her daughter’s experience in school, is available as an e-book from Kindle. You can visit Maryann and see her other books at her Web site at http://www.maryannwrites.com.

Struck by Conscience

I'm so pleased to share more about my YA short novella, Stuck by Conscience. It will release with Whimsical Publications sometime this year. I haven't been given a release date but all good things come to those who wait...and pine...and agonize. ;) I just received the cover and I LOVE IT! It fits the story perfectly. What do you think?

Here is the blurb:

I, Charisma Mansfield, do solemnly swear that... I never asked to be popular. I never asked to be voted Prom Queen. I definitely never asked to have an invisible pixie perched on my shoulder whispering her opinions into my ear 24/7. But of all the things I never asked for, this is the worst one yet—when brooding but gorgeous Heath Ruvelas (my next door neighbor and the guy I used to be best friends with before jr. high) rescued me from drowning in the school pool. My already bizarre life would never be the same.

A New Year and New Goals

Happy New Year!! At least, I hope it will be a good year. I'd hate to think that nothing but disappointment and tragedy awaited me. (Shakes Head) Don't mind me, I've just been watching way too much news today. Okay, I'm better now.

So...a new Year and new Goals. Do any of you make resolutions in January? Yeah, me neither. I am not a resolutions kind of a girl because more than likely I'd break them within the first week. My life is way too chaotic to make year-long resolutions. However, I do make goals for myself.

One of the first things I do as a New Year looms on the horizon is to set reading goals for myself. Yes, the world is falling apart all around me and I'm more concerned about how many books I'll read in a year. (See too much news--must wrestle remote control away from my dh.)

Do you set reading goals? It might be a good idea. Maybe twenty-five books in a year. That would be fabulous and totally do-able. My goal is always fifty books by December 31st. And I might add that this year (as crazy as it was) I read 101 books! That's a lifetime record for me.

I'd love to hear from you. How many books did you read this past year? Have a goal for this year? What's the magic number?

Next time I'll share some of the highlights of my reading year.