Winell Road Blog Tour!

Tags

adventure, aliens, Goodreads giveaway, Kate Foster, MG book, Winell Road

Happy Christmas from Kate and Winell Road!

 When Winell Road: Beneath the Surface was released back in April, Kate didn’t embark on a great deal of promotion. Because of a lot of ‘things’. So, to make up for that and to kick off the festivities for her favourite time of year – Christmas! – she’s taken Winell Road on a little tour, hoping to spread the word and introduce lots of new young readers to, what she believes is, a great big dollop of sci-fi fun and adventure. Here’s a little info…

BLURB! Twelve-year old Jack Mills lives at 5 Winell Road and has probably the world’s weirdest neighbours. Like freakishly weird. And to top it off, he lives with Mum: nosy, interfering, a hideous cook, and Dad: unsuccessful inventor of the Camera Belt and Self-Closing Window. All in all, it’s a boring, embarrassing, dead-end place to live. So when Jack arrives home from school one day, a close shave with a UFO is the last thing he expects. But the fact it doesn’t abduct him, and that no one else, not even Mum, sees the gigantic flying saucer hovering over the street, adds a whole new layer of strange.

Soon after, an alien encounter threatens Jack’s life and he becomes embroiled in a galaxy-saving mission. With the assistance of his new neighbour, frighteningly tall Roxy Fox, he discovers Winell Road is hiding secrets—secrets Jack might wish he’d never uncovered. REVIEWS! If you’re still not sure, here’s a couple of reviews… ‘Winell Road: Beneath the Surface is a fast-paced middle-grade adventure story with the feel of Men in Black. Jack is a smart, resourceful boy with more abilities than he’s ever dreamed off, and he finds out that the world is a far stranger place than he imagined. The action is non-stop and will keep readers riveted.’ examiner.com ‘This book will work wonderfully read aloud in class. There are enough cliff-hanger chapter endings to keep them begging for more. It will also promote discussion about making snap judgments while providing plenty of scope for related art projects.’ Buzz Words Magazine  Go to Goodreads to see a few more.

ABOUT KATE!

Kate is an Englishwoman on the Gold Coast in Australia. A middle grade writer, freelance editor, the editorial director at Lakewater Press and all around lover of the written word, she is ruled by her three sons, husband and spoodle pup. Not one to have a quiet day, she spends her free time mentoring new writers in contests like Nest Pitch and Pitch Wars, judging writing contests and helping out at Writers Activation on the Gold Coast. Other than that, she likes laying in bed or by the pool with a book!

GIVEAWAY! It would make a great stocking filler for children. BUT, if you’re feeling particularly lucky, she’s giving away three signed copies just in time for Christmas! Yippee! Click here to enter! GO BUY IT! If you don’t win, then the book is available all over the virtual world. Amazon UK    Amazon.com    Booktopia    Jet Black Publishing
Thanks for stopping by. MERRY CHRISTMAS!

There is a giveaway, and I would appreciate it if no one entered… BECAUSE I REALLY WANT TO READ THIS ONE AND I HAVEN’T BOUGHT IT YET (shame on me) AND I HAVE ENTERED, AND I WOULD REALLY LIKE TO WIN! Mmmkay? Thanks!

Oh…okay, enter.

Goodreads Book Giveaway

Winell Road

by Kate Foster

Giveaway ends December 01, 2015.

See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

Enter Giveaway

https://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/widget/163539

Spooky All Year

Tags

creepy, dreams, horror, nightmares, old building, Spooky All Year

Time for…

Inspired by Faith McKay and The Midnight Society! When we celebrate the fact that scary isn’t only for October.

For today I want to share with you my most recent dream…some might call it a nightmare, but I thought it was pretty cool.

For choreography sake… in my crazy, mixed-up dream-world there’s a wall with stairs going up on both sides with a door at the top… so you can go up one side, through a door and down the other side. There’s a door at the bottom of one staircase and another in the wall to connect the rooms. Make sense? It made perfect sense to dream-me.

And now… enter the weirdness that is my mind…

 

Eerie green light bathed the room. A crumbling, rotting room… where? I have no idea, but it’s a decrepit building…huge, empty, and dark. I’m descending stairs, my feet crunching on grit and debris. I go through a door and peer through another opening on my left. A green light flashes. There’s someone in the building with me.

The dark figure crosses the room and I duck out of sight. Who is it? I don’t know. The way he stalks across the room, that light shining into the dark corners, makes my stomach knot. Dressed all in black, his face hidden, the figure closes on the door and I hold my breath. Should I go back up the stairs? Should I run? I press my back against the wall and wait, staring at the dark opening, waiting for that terrible green light to announce his coming.

But the light never appears. The creak of his weight on the steps in the other room creeps through the shadows. I glance up the stairs, at the door the figure will soon come through.

He’ll see me…

…if I stay here…

                                                     …he’ll see me…

And I don’t know who he is or what he wants, but I don’t want him to see me.

I’ll wait. I’ll stay as still as possible. When he crosses the threshold, I’ll run into the other room. I’ll get away. A flash of green light shines through the opening at the top of the stairs, invading my space.

He’s coming.

I inch towards the door, my escape, but dirt and rubble crunch under my feet. Too loud.

I stop.

Hold my breath.

He’ll hear me.

Then he’ll find me.

I can’t let him find me.

Silence closes around me. Did he hear me? Does he know I’m here? Is he waiting, listening? What if he’s coming down the stairs… unseen, unheard?

Moving as slowly as possible I pick up my foot. I need to get to the door. I need to get away. The decaying bits of the building shuffle and scrape at my movements, but maybe the sound is louder to me, maybe it’s only a rat to the green-light man.

As I move to peer around the door, light catches my eye. He’s coming through the door at the top of the stairs.

I’ll have to move… soon.

 

Then I woke up…

I hope dream-me got away. I hope that wasn’t Freddy Krueger…nah, he’s got knife fingers not some green light. Probably just some random serial killer. I’ll blame the fact that my friends at The Midnight Society introduced me to slasher films and books… THANKS GUYS! You’re the best.

Odd how in dreams, everything makes sense. But after waking, I curled my arm around my pillow and wondered why anyone would design a building like that with stairs that made no sense. I wondered why I felt threatened by this figure, who never said a word. I wondered why so many times I know the places in my dreams, even if they look different, I see them as my house or somewhere familiar. But not that building.

I’ve had a few dreams that seriously disturbed me. This one wasn’t the worst, but I’ll remember it, maybe forever.

And I love those dreams, the ones that stick in my head, the ones that send my brain spinning with fear and visions of what might be.

Happy #SpookyAllYear!

Sachael Desires…Release Day and Blog Tour!

Tags

fantasy, Melody Winter, NA book, romance, Sachael Desries, Sachael Dreams, The Mine Series

Anyone read Book one in The Mine Series, Sachael Dreams? I did!

Anyone dying to find out what happens? To maybe see a bit more Orontes or meet Lilith? ME! #TeamOrontes

Or, I suppose, hang out with Azariah again? Those #TeamAzariah people exist out there…

Anyway, we need more of Estelle’s journey! And here it is! Book 2 anyway, we’ll have to wait for the rest.

Today is the day!

During her ordeal with the Sect, Estelle Bailey dreamt of escaping back into the arms of the sea—and Azariah. But freedom came at a price, and though she’s back with the Sachael who’s stolen her heart, she’s also land-bound until the next full moon. And with the threat of Orontes looming ever larger behind them, Azariah, Estelle, and Michael—her once-captor turned rescuer and friend—are on the run.  Following Michael’s lead, they seek sanctuary amidst the natural beauty of the Orkney and Shetland Islands until Estelle can complete her next submergence ritual and Azariah can whisk her away to the safety of Saicean.  ​ ​ Secrets, betrayals, and old enemies await them, though, and as events spiral out of control, Azariah makes a decision that puts all their lives at risk, forcing Estelle to face a journey she never wanted to take. With time running out and tempers running high, her only hope to save the man she loves lies in a reconciliation between two kingdoms who despise each other.

Book Two in the Mine Series, Sachael Desires further expands on the intricate underwater world of the Sachaels, and the hostility and isolation of not belonging.​

And there’s a trailer! See it here.

Get your copy today!

Growing up, Melody Winter showed a natural ability in art, a head for maths, and a tendency to write far too long English essays. Difficult to place in the world when she graduated, she pursued a career in teaching, but eventually ended up working in Finance. Melody is convinced the methodical time she spends working with numbers fuels her desire to drift into dream worlds and write about the illusory characters in her head.

Melody Winter lives in North Yorkshire, England, with her husband and two sons. When not dealing with football, rugby, and a whole plethora of ‘boy’ activities, she will be found scribbling notes for her stories, or preparing for another trip to the beach. With an obsession for anything mythical, Melody revels in reading and writing about such creatures. In fact, if she wasn’t such a terrible swimmer, she’d say she was a mermaid.

Sachael Desires is her second book in the New Adult Romantic Fantasy series – the ‘Mine Series’.
Learn more about Melody Winter on her website, twitter or facebook.

GIVEAWAY ALERT!

Enter here!

Go tell Melody Winter CONGRATS on her second book! And if it strikes you fancy? Go get your copy.

Reconnecting

Tags

anniversary trip, change, growing up, husbands, marriage, reconnecting, thoughts, wives

Last weekend hubs and I went away. See Wednesday will be our 20th wedding anniversary.

Dude. 20 years.

That’s almost half my life. Almost.

I banned our phones and computers from this little trip and we traveled a few hours north to Holland, Michigan. And had a GREAT time! We went to Holland State Park to see the snowy beach… snow on a beach! Ha!

It was like my own Hallmark movie, walking up and down the streets of downtown Holland, wandering the cute shops, eating in all the yummy local food.

And there was a tree lighting.

EEEEEEEK!

We needed to get away from life. We needed to reconnect.

Because 20 years was a long time ago. And people change. When I think of 22 year old me, I cringe. This man of mine married a naïve, scared, uncertain girl. I had an art degree, but no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I had a car, but wouldn’t go out into the new city I moved to, because of fear. At 22 I had no idea who I was.

I think this is true of most people in their early twenties, which kinda makes it odd to get married at that age. I was bound to change.

My tall, knight in drab camo loved that girl… but there was no guarantee that he would love the person I would become.

He watched me grow up, become me.

Not that I went through any real drastic changes, overall I still fear dealing with people in the outside world, I still believe in magic, I still love my art. But I am a lot more independent. And with him working a lot, I easily go my own way and am very happy by myself.

And marriage isn’t a by yourself kind of deal.

So we spent the day just us, not talking about work or all the things that keep us apart, but holding hands and enjoying being together…being US.

Because US is what it’s all about.

 

Should Be…A Killer Phrase

Tags

Do the best you can, just be, shouldn'ts, shoulds, thoughts, time management, writing

I have a switch in my brain, one that is either in the on or off position. Not a good thing. When I’m in, I’m all in, neglecting everything else. If there’s an unfinished puzzle sitting out, I MUST finish it. I begin yard work only to spend all day to complete it. Give me a manuscript to critique and that is all I will focus on until all my comments are made.

Do you see the problem yet?

I have things I want to accomplish, a person I want to be. Take care of my kids, though they don’t need me quite as much anymore. Take care of the house, or keep it as clean as I can anyway, with clean clothes and an assortment of food. Take care of me, I love to workout and sweat to gain muscle and flexibility. Take care of my chosen profession…I’m a writer and want to share my books with everyone.

So many things. When I am working out, I feel guilty for not writing. I should be writing. When I am stuck to that puzzle, I should be cleaning or making my family dinner. When I am writing, I should stop and get my workout in. As I critique other people’s words, I should take time to write my own words.

I should be…

Writing

Cleaning

Working out

Paying attention to my family

The phrase “I should be” circles through my brain all the time. And that causes this strange paralysis.

If I can’t sit and write all day…cause it is my job…then I won’t write at all.

If I can’t give my workout everything I have then I will skip it.

If I can’t give every moment to my writer friends’ words then I shouldn’t do it at all.

If I ignore my family, then I am a horrible person.

Wow. My brain can be a pretty messed up place.

I need to change my thinking. Everything has its moment. I can have the morning to eat and throw toys at the dog, maybe watch a TV show. I can workout without guilt because it has a place in the day. I can write for an hour here and a half an hour there and get words added. I can keep the house in fairly good shape without running around like an idiot because there are so many other things to do.

I can just be.

People say there aren’t enough hours in the day. But if there were more hours, would that help us? Wouldn’t we continue to try to jam in everything we could? Wouldn’t we continue to think of all the things that aren’t getting done?

There’s a time to accept what can be done. There’s a time to accept we are human beings. We are limited. And this is our one life.

This is it.

When I reach the end of this life, I won’t look back and regret all the things that didn’t get done as quickly as I wanted. I will look back at all the things I accomplished.

Do the best you can with the time you have.

 

 

 

Spooky All Year Begins

Tags

horror, Midnight Society, Short story, Spooky All Year

The amazing Faith McKay at The Midnight Society had a brilliant idea! #SpookyAllYear! Go visit her post and learn all the scary details. AND THIS IS THE FIRST DAY!

I know…

OH DEAR KATHY IS DOING THE HORROR THING AGAIN.

But I LOVE IT! And on the second and fourth Wednesdays of each month, I hope to participate (some Wednesdays might go better than others). We at the Midnight Society had such a great time with our October Fear Fest last month, we have the need to keep it going. Because keeping the horror going is IMPORTANT.

So welcome…

I have a little story in mind. Let’s see how this goes…

 

The Wedding

I was born for this moment.

The dress flows around my ankles in shimmering white beaded-wonder. The jewels draped on my neck and wrists send a million lights across the gray, stone pillars that line the aisle as the gems reflect the glow of a million candles.

Excitement flutters through my mind and settles in my stomach. My wedding day.

Sixteen years, I have waited. Finally the day has arrived. Today I meet him. My days of studying and preparing for the ritual blur together, but the work is over. I am ready. Chanting and praying, my coven, my family, lurks in the shadows. The tap of my shoes on the polished stone floor echoes in the massive room.

I step up onto a raised platform. Empty. Waiting for me to complete the ritual. So my true love can appear.

Two black-cloaked figures scurry in front of me, place a silver bowl filled with dark liquid on the ground then melt back into the dark.

I kneel and dip my first two fingers into the warm blood in the bowl. With great care to remember every line and dot, every symbol, I draw on the floor. My heart leaps as I finish the first mark. I lift my gaze as the air before me shudders, the world twists. A gasp of joy creeps from the edges of the room. The rustle of cloaks whispers from the dark corners of the room as a hole opens in the air.

I turn back to the floor, back to the ritual, to my job. The reason I exist is now. I dip my fingers back in the bowl. Two more symbols. One to call my mate from the other side and the other pledging myself to him.

Cold seeps through the air, wrapping around my ankles. My dress ripples as I stand.

He comes to me, arms wide, emerging from the void I opened. For him. Always for him.

“For you,” I cry. “I am for you.”

Perfect feet hit the floor. Strong legs carry him into my world. Powerful shoulders shrugs off misty fingers, the remnants of what exists beyond. Skin so white it blinds me.

He stops inches from me.

My chest heaves with desire. I lift my arms and dip my head in reverence. “Master. Our future awaits.”

The cloaked figures return, kneeling at our feet. “Master,” they whisper.

I move to wave them away. What are they doing? This is not part of the ritual. He is mine. But I pause as they lift a gleaming dagger above their bowed heads.

A dagger?

Confusion weaves through my blissful thoughts. A spark of fear burns away my happy as he wraps his long, beautiful fingers around the hilt.

Heart pounding, I lift my gaze. His black eyes meet mine, eyes full of power, of desire, of evil. He raises the knife. The light, that had moments ago brightened my mind, fades. I try to step back, but hands close on my shoulders and arms, pressing me forward. My destiny. The reason I was born.

He presses cold metal to my throat. “You have no future.”

 

There you are. #SpookyAllYear. You might have seen that end coming, but I am thinking this up on the spot.

Writing Sprints… For Joggers Too!

Tags

fear, goals, new things, sprints, thoughts, Twitter, word count, writing

I’ve been around Twitter for a while. I’ve seen so many people hook up and do writing sprints. And I always thought…how nice, but no way. The pressure must be terrible. They must be watching the clock, wondering how many words they can get…will it be enough words…what if they only get two?

So I never participated, until last night.

I have been having problems putting butt in chair. I don’t always open that word doc. I am easily distracted by snacks, pets, TV, and, heck, I’ll even clean to put off the inevitable typing words that might suck, words that might not make sense, words that might not tell the story lurking in my mind.

Cause that’s really what this procrastination is…fear.

My fear of failure is not a secret. I scream about it at the top of my lungs. So I am working of trying different things to get over it.

Last month I began jotting down my WIP word count at the end of each day, not to reach a certain number, but to see the number go up. I found myself writing so I could write a higher number.

But that wasn’t enough…

Last night, when the fabulous Jolene Haley (go follow her!) asked who was up for sprinting, I said YES before my uncertainty grabbed hold of my brain and pushed me away from the challenge. If I have learned one thing, it’s to MOVE FASTER THAN YOUR FEAR! JUST DO IT!

I didn’t set a word count goal. That would have been too much for me, causing possible meltdown or spontaneous combustion. But I started at the set time and wrote until the end time. I did 250 words in 20 minutes.

I looked at the clock a lot at first, counting down the minutes. I mean how can twenty minutes GO SO FAST? Panic crept in, then I thought of the others in the group who would be back on Twitter to post their results. I thought of how we were all just doing our best and that any new words were good words. And my panic subsided.

I’m not a sprinter. I can’t just write without thinking, writing and writing to add a bajillion words, which is why I don’t NaNo. I stop and think. I stop to check my notes about my characters and worlds.

But I wrote. At my own happy pace.

Second round brought 450 words in 30 minutes.

And…WAIT I HAVE 700 new words?

Then we did 10 more minutes…well, I did 15, because the scene had to be finished and added another 250.

After each round we had a break. After each round we all celebrated each other’s accomplishments, no matter the word count. Goals were reached. Gifs were posted. Friends were made.

My next new thing is to go to the library for an hour during the day to escape the distractions that plague me at home. There’s no eating, laundry, dog who wants to play, or cleaning at the library. As long as I can stay away from ALL THE BOOKS…

If you get stuck, open you eyes to all the possibilities, try things you would normally run from. Scene by scene, chapter by chapter, word by word, we’ll get these things drafted.

I tried something new. And it worked.

And it didn’t kill me, which is most important, because a couple people might miss me.

 

NaNoWriMo Craziness has Begun

Tags

Believe, goals, move forward, NaNoWriMo, possibilities, word count, writing

It’s November!

For writers everywhere that means National Novel Writing Month. People are sitting their butts in their favorite chairs with cups of their favorite beverage in hopes of having 50,000 new words staring from computer screens at the end of these thirty days.

Sound like a lot? Cause it is.

For the last month, I have been reading tweets as those participating prepare. Some create extensive outlines. Others have general plans. A few are just going to wing it. Word counts run rampant on Twitter. Daily goals have been set.

And the fun began last Sunday. I am not a part of the craziness. I do not NaNo.

Why? Too much pressure. With daily goals and the looming deadline of 50K words… I would panic and fail. I know me. This would happen. At the end, I would be a quivering mass of blah with a bunch of words that make no sense. I choose not to be that. My writing process does not allow for this challenge. I’m okay with that.

For everyone who takes on this crazy challenge, I applaud you.

Whether you get to that magic number or not, BRAVO for giving it a go!

It’s been a few days and tweets are positive. Goals are being met. Stories are progressing. The general feeling is upbeat and numbers are high.

This trend probably won’t continue. In a week or so, tweets will begin to show panic. Goals slip away. Doubt nibbles at the positivity. Life throws strangeness into the mix. Exhaustion creeps in. Maybe the story gets out of hand. Suddenly everything that has been written screams that it doesn’t work. Maybe the ms would be better in a different POV or tense.

The questions multiply. The doubt grows. Will what exists at the end of the month be worth having?

YES! IT WILL!

AND I WILL BE HERE TO CHEER YOU ON!

I WILL BE HERE REMINDING YOU THAT YOU ARE…

To get through NaNo, there must be writing. Let the words flow. Maybe you can stick to the plan, maybe not, it won’t matter. Just keep writing. 50K in a month is not achieved through questioning.

You didn’t reach your goal one day? Relax, don’t sweat it.

Put it behind you and keep moving forward. This is not the month to focus on what might have been, what you should have done. This is the time to take what you have and build on it.

No showers for a month? No problem.

Kids are in charge of making their own dinner? They are learning to be independent.

The house becomes covered in a layer of dust? Adds cushion…comfort.

Your family forgets what you look like? They’ll remember eventually.

Because the month will end.

Will you hit that magic 50K number? Maybe. Maybe not.

But you will have words, new words. Words that will always be there for you to mold into whatever they decide they want to be, next week or next year. Whenever.

Hold onto that thought as you type away, reaching for the stars. You are creating possibilities, mixing the clay that will someday be brilliance.

Whether writing goes like this…

or more like this…

Whether you end the day in a state of…

or…

or…

or…

or…

I will be here to tell you to KEEP GOING! I might not be joining you in achieving 50K, but I will be striving to add as many words as I can to my WIP.

So, go forth my NaNo-ers as you NaNo and don’t look back.

 

Best Halloween Ever

Tags

decorations, Halloween, memories, my parents' house, scary, trick-or-treating

If you remember from my last post, I took my kids on a five hour drive Friday to my parents’ house for Halloween.

And that means a five hour drive home yesterday.

Ten hours in a car for a few hours of trick-or-treating? Am I crazy?

Nope. It was all worth it.

HALLOWEEN IS IMPORTANT!

My kids are done trick-or-treating and where we live, trick-or-treaters are non-existent. And I LOVE to be in the middle of Halloween. I love the sounds of kids running amok. I love the sounds of leaves crunching underfoot. I love the chill in the air…and even a little rain is acceptable. So I went where the action was. No one wants a sad Kathy on Halloween.

My mom and dad get A LOT of trick-or-treaters. I believe the final count was about 440 pieces of candy handed out. 440! AH! Yes, they had enough candy. It was a miracle.

But before that…there was much to do! So many decorations and lights that had to be set up, electrical cords run, creepiness to spread!

My dad! *waves*

The kids all had jobs!

Medusa was motion activated and would tell everyone to fear her as her eyes glowed and snake-hair moved.

Eventually everything was ready. Scary sounds oozed from speakers. The strobe light was flashing. Though at 4:30 in the afternoon the effect was minimal.

My daughter and I did a bit of dressing up…

Then we accompanied my sisters and their four girls on their walk up and down the street on their hunt for candy. I love seeing all the decorations and hearing the phrase “trick-or-treat” echoing along the block. I had a few kids stare at me as I wandered the street in my cloak and strange make-up. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

When we returned to my parents’ house, my daughter and I waved to my sisters and nieces as they continued on their candy gathering adventure, then became a part of Halloween, joining Dad’s décor.

Ella took a spot on the front porch.

I stood behind the coffin, illuminated by the strobe light. Those innocent trick-or-treaters and their parents (because walking up the sidewalk of Dad’s house often required holding someone’s hand) didn’t always see me right away…didn’t know if I was a real person, until my eyes followed them and my head moved.

I WAS IN HEAVEN. Heaven.

The screaming. The crying. The wide eyes. More than a few turned right around and only returned with back-up. Then they finally made it to the door and were hit with the vision that is my dad as he lures them to him with candy. There is usually much hesitation…and crying…and one kid jump a foot into the air.

When an ambulance crawled down the street with the theme song from the movie “Halloween” playing, I nearly died of joy. I tried to look menacing, but I couldn’t help smiling. My daughter said the same thing.

It was the best Halloween ever. And because we can’t go to my parents’ house unless Halloween falls on a Saturday, I won’t get to experience this for a long time…if ever again. So I soaked it all in. Basked in the creepy.

The bride and groom skeletons spun around. A big hit!

I made new friends…

So next year, you will probably find me curled in a corner throwing candy at myself with horror movies playing because I won’t be in the middle of Halloween. I won’t be enjoying the creepy lights and music. I won’t be hearing kids yell “trick-or-treat”. I won’t be wandering out in the cold fall air.

Without that, I don’t know what Halloween will become for me. I guess it’s time to find new traditions. It’s time for Halloween to evolve. But I will treasure my moments out in the middle of the action. I will miss it.

I hope everyone had a great Halloween!