I am looking for someone to read and review my book before its publication date in August. The book is a YA paranormal romance for readers ages 16+ for mild sexual situations, language and violence. If you are 16 or over and are interested please contact me here via the form below, or email me at jessalgilbert[at]live[dot]com. You must include your name, email and a link to your review site.
Origins is now in the final stages and is being edited and proofed as I write this! Yay!! I'm in the home stretch!! I've been doing a lot of work lately making revisions and formatting, I've been working on further refining the cover to look more like a BOOK cover and less like a poster as a friend pointed out, started formatting my book with chapter headings and layout for the interior of a print edition, as well as the cover layout for print, and just making small adjustments to the story here and there.. All in all, I'm quite excited I've made it this far. I wrote a book! I wrote a freakin' book!! Do you have any idea how hard it is to write a book? No? Well, I'm about to tell you! It is HARD, time consuming, make you want to pull your hair out and scream while banging your head on the wall work!! Three years, 3!!, I've been working on this book and I never thought I'd make it this far.. If not for the support of my friends and family I'm quite sure I wouldn't have. It takes a LOT of people to write a book. My acknowledgements page is 2 full pages now and I'm quite positive there's someone or someones that I've probably forgotten.. my apologies if that's the case. And every single person I've thanked has been wonderful with comments, suggestions, ideas, or just offering up their words of encouragement. So, here's a THANK YOU to each and every single person that's helped me out in one way or another on my journey (I love you all!), but especially Melissa who has been there with me at every twist and turn, asking questions and pointing out the little details for me to clarify, who is as involved as I am in this book. I love you more than bacon!! (and that's saying a lot because man, I LOVE me some bacon!!)
I've finally set an actual publication date for August 7th so hopefully I'll be ready by then and can wait that long... It's been a while since my last post (I suck at this whole "blog" thing!) so I figured I would give you all something new to read here.. and Yay! I still have visitors!! So, here's a quick update: my life is freaking crazy right now! I've been trying to get my book finished and keep up with everything but I have kids, a house, work.. ugh! Life sucks! Why can't I just sit at home and write all day?! I did however get a friend to agree to edit and proof my book for me so I don't have to do it! Yippee!! Its in the works right now while I'm busy trying to finish up my last little bits and additions.. I have also decided to publish a print edition which will be available through Amazon when the eBook version launches in about 3 weeks (all depending on how long it takes to proof)!!
And.. that's about it. I honestly have no freaking clue what to blog about.. Do you guys really want to read about what I ate for supper (lasagne! Mmm) or how my kids like to jump on the furniture and scream about zombies attacking? (Which they do.. daily) Oh! Here's something to get you all involved.. what do you think about the design for the blog? Any comments, suggestions? Are the colors too dark? Is it well organized? Does it need more pizazz? Let me know what you guys think! I'd love to hear Haven't posted in a few days so figured I better write something quick before you all get bored of reading the same stuff so.. here's a new teaser, introducing the 3rd critical character, Luc. (My best friend would kill me if I didn't also say that she already has dibs on him so, sorry ladies. He's apparently taken already.)
Chapter 12: “My birthday isn’t for another week and a half! What are you going to do? Stalk me?” I huff. “If I need to, yes. If you get hurt or die, then so do I, so it’s in both of our best interests to make this as painless as possible.” Luc stops to look around. “You don’t snore, do you?” I jump up from the bed in disbelief. “What?! You mean, you plan on staying here? With me?” “How am I supposed to protect you at my house?” he counters. “Wait, where are you going?” “To talk to my mother!” I roar as I stomp towards the door. “She was there, remember? She’s the one who brought me over here,” he taunts. “But that’s—This isn’t—” I sputter. “What, fair?” he asks as I spin around. “No, by all means, don’t stop throwing your tantrum on my account. You’re cute when you’re angry,” he says as I stand there, unmoving. I think about stamping my foot in frustration but don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me act like a five year old, so instead I walk back over to the bed and sit as calmly as I can. “Fine.” I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration. “What side of the bed do you want?” he asks with a waggle of his eyebrows. “You are not sleeping in bed with me. If you’re going to stay here you can sleep on the floor,” I reply with a wicked smile. “Well you’re no fun. I don’t know what my brother sees in you,” he pouts as he climbs to his feet. “Nice try but somehow I doubt sleeping with me is part of your ‘job description’,” I quip, making air quotes with my hands. “Just think of it as an added bonus,” he replies with a wink. I shake my head in disapproval as I walk over to the closet to get a pillow and some blankets out for him. I turn and toss them to him quickly in the hopes of surprising him but, much to my dismay, he easily catches them and laughs at me. “I’m Immortal, remember?” he teases. “You’re going to have to try harder than that if you want to catch me off guard.” “Just make yourself comfortable- on the floor- while I go change,” I say, grabbing a pair of comfy sleep pants and a tank top. Thinking twice, I grab a modest long sleeved T-shirt as well to cover up with and head to the bathroom. “Yeah, yeah,” he replies. “But, just so you know, I sleep in the nude.” I shut the bathroom door quickly but not before I hear the sound of his pants hitting the floor. Chapter One May 30, Present Day I wake gasping in bed, the sweat laden sheets twined around my legs, holding me prisoner. I struggle, desperate to break free from their twisted embrace as breathless sobs rack my body. My mind is edged with sleep fuzz, and my arms are weighed down, useless against the sheets. The pale, citric yellow and soft lavender of my walls is gone, coated instead by the garish red of my nightmare. “Calm down. Breathe. It was only a dream,” I mutter attempting to soothe myself as I squeeze my eyes shut. As soon as my eyelids drop down I am once again assaulted by my dream. I am running, weaving through a sparse landscape of trees. The ground beneath my bare feet is damp and I can feel the moss gently squishing between my toes. My feet beat out a rhythmic slopping song as I run. Every few steps a red haze mars my vision, illuminating my surroundings with a hellish glow. Each flash of red brings with it an overwhelming mix of emotions- Red pain, Red desire, Red need, Red hunger. I catch sight of something- someone- scrambling over the earth in front of me. A girl close to my own age and build, blond hair streaming behind her like ribbons, scurries through the trees. I can see the sweat flowing from her, raining to the ground as her feet beat a rapid thump-thump-thump against the carpet of pine needles and dirt. A pleasant mixture of delicate floral soap, bitter sweat and the coppery tang of blood resides in her wake, igniting my hunger. It is then that I realize she is running from me- she is the prey and I am the predator. My eyes fly open, transporting me back to my red coated bedroom. I sit up in my bed, heart battering against my ribs, and take several deep breaths of air, refusing to close my eyes to the nightmare that haunts me. Slowly the red begins to dissipate and the sheets slacken, relinquishing their hold on my legs, allowing me to break free. I can hear my dad downstairs puttering around in the kitchen going through his usual morning routine of coffee and bagels before he leaves for work. Desperate for some sort of normalcy I slip from bed and pad downstairs, pausing to gather my long dark hair into a loose ponytail. My bare feet sink into the plush burgundy carpet of the hallway, reminding me of the feel of the moss from my dream clinging between my toes. I am instantly grateful when my feet slap against the unyielding tile of the kitchen. Dad stands at the counter, his back to me, pouring a cup of coffee, his perpetually messy dark hair at odds with the sleek business suit he wears. The smile freezes on his face as he turns and sees me, the corners of his mouth instantly turning downwards as his eyebrows crease together. He opens his mouth but I quickly cut him off before he can speak. “I’m fine, Dad, really. I’m just tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night.” “Bad dreams again?” He asks concerned. “It’s fine Dad. I’m fine.” Desperate to change the subject I casually glance at the clock hanging over the cluttered kitchen table. “Aren’t you going to be late?” The reminder of work seems to do the trick. Dad looks at the clock, his eyes opening and mouth straightening as he notices the time. “I can take a hint,” he says, smiling lightly. “You know I worry about you. Okay, okay, I’m going. I love you. Don’t forget your appointment with Dr. Woods.” “Love you too, Dad, and I won’t,” I call to him as he rushes out the door. Not like I could if I wanted to. My mom died right after I was born. She had some rare disease that no one knew about until it was too late. The doctor’s don’t even know if it’s genetic or not. All they know is that it’s deadly and it can appear at any time, with no warning signs, so ever since I was born I’ve had to regularly visit a doctor to be tested. My dad chose Dr. Thorne, who also happens to be the doctor that pronounced my mother dead, because she was the only doctor he could find who actually had experience with the disease. It would be an understatement to say I don’t like her. My mother, who I have never met, never even seen other than in almost twenty year old photographs, died under the care of this woman. Even if I did have the disease, how does she expect to save me when she couldn’t save my mom? Resentful, I trudge back upstairs to shower, the warm water helping to relax the remaining tension of my nightmare away, and get dressed. Ready to face the day, I head outside to my car- my one pride and joy- a black Mazda Miata, a graduation present from my dad. The air is thick with humidity, suffocating me as I climb in and roll down the windows so the car can breathe before I head off to work. After my shift in the gift shop, I find myself surrounded by the all too familiar scents of Dr. Thorne's office. It is a smell somewhere between the pleasantness of vanilla and the reek of rubbing alcohol. As I lay back on the too cold hospital exam bed, I let my eyes close, hoping to find a few minutes of peaceful relaxation. Just as my thoughts are beginning to slow down a voice breaks through the haze, alerting me. “How are you feeling today, Adelin?” a familiar voice asks. I sit up and open my eyes and am immediately assaulted by the familiar face of Dr. Thorne, or Marissa as my dad calls her. She takes a moment to pat her already perfect blond hair into place before throwing me a smile, making me scowl. “I'm fine, Dr. Thorne. Fine, fine, fine. Eating fine, sleeping fine. No lack of energy or will to live. Everything is fine.” Geesh, how many times more times today would I have to say I was fine? “A little on edge, are we?” Dr. Thorne jokes. “I don't know, I guess. I just wish I didn't have to have these stupid tests done anymore. I practically have scars from all the times I've had my blood drawn. Keep this up and people are going to start thinking I'm a junkie,” I half joke. I really am sick and tired of getting poked. It's not that I'm scared of needles, I'm not. You can only get stuck with them so many times before you start to despise them, fear or not. “I understand. How about, depending on what we find with today’s test- if it looks the same as all the others- I'll see if me and your dad can't come to some agreement about your appointments. Maybe we can spread them out to every six months instead of every three, okay?” she asks gently, her chestnut brown eyes softening. “I guess that's better than nothing. Okay, let's just get this over with already.” She wraps the band around my arm and ties it tightly into place before flicking the inside of my elbow a few times, her long blond hair falling over her shoulders as she bends down. “Ready? On three. One, two, three...” Still rubbing the spot where the needle penetrated my arm I stumble out into the too bright parking lot. I refuse to let Dr. Thorne ruin any more of my day. Deep down I know that it is not her fault my mom died. Mom was sick, no one could’ve helped her by the time they figured it out, but I’m still only human and as such I need someone to blame. It makes losing my mom a little easier to cope with if there is someone I can hate for it. Hate burns so much stronger than other emotions and, some days, I need that. My eyes squint together against the harsh brightness of the sun as I walk across the solid black river of pavement to reach my car. I pause halfway across the parking lot when I catch sight of a figure squatting on the hood of my car- a distant blur of shadows against the sun. My right hand instinctually comes up to shield my eyes, causing the soft edges to shift into a distinctive person. Bryn. A smile breaks the stern line of my mouth as I rush the rest of the way across the lot. When I reach my car Bryn sits up straight, causing her long hair to ripple down her back in a cascade of waves. The two of us get mistaken for sisters a lot, both of us are tall with long, dark hair and pale skin but those are the only similarities we share in my opinion. Bryn is poised and voluptuous with gleaming, pin straight hair almost the exact shade of dark chocolate and doe-eyed. I, on the other hand, am narrow and awkward with untamable dark brown waves woven with highlights of copper and bronze, and my eyes are a dark, stormy grey. She oozes sophistication, confidence and sex appeal. I just ooze. “So…..” she prompts as I stop in front of her. * proof * “So…?” I cue. “I thought maybe we could go to that new club in town….? I already called Morgan and Juel- they’re willing to meet us there. Whaddaya say? Can we go or should I call them back?” she rattles. “No, it’s fine, we can go,” I say with a smile. This was Bryn’s way of helping me relax and forget about my bad day. She knows “appointment days” are never good days for me, she also knows I don’t like talking about them and it was best to help me try to let loose. “Great!” She beams as she slides from the hood of my car. “You can come get ready with me at my place. You know you have nothing to wear anyway….” “Right behind you,” I call, ignoring her comment about my clothes, grateful that she has given me an excuse to avoid my dad for a while longer. Pulling out my cell phone I decide to call and leave a message for Dad. On the third ring the machine picks up and the sound of my dad's voice fills the phone. “Snow residence…. We’re not in right now, please leave a message after the......” Beep. “Hey, Dad. Everything's fine. Just calling to tell you that me and the girls are going to Creston tonight so I won't be home until late. Don't wait up. Love ya.” As I climb behind the wheel a small smile makes its way onto my face. Maybe today would end better than it had started. A couple of hours later find me dancing, without a care in the world, with a cute guy named Tyler. Apparently, Tyler doesn’t like girls taller than he was, which ticked off Bryn since he was undeniably cute, but she quickly got over it when she spotted, and I quote, 'tall, dark, and handsome' at the bar. As another song ends I spin around, noticing for the first time how sparse the club has become. Where’d everyone go? “Crap,” I say aloud, checking my watch. “It's 1:30. I have go or my dad's going to kill me.” Tyler rakes a hand back through his thick dark hair. “Your dad? You live at home?” Ignoring his question I grab his hand and fish a pen out of my purse to jot down the number to my cell phone. “Here's my number. Call me sometime. I gotta run.” I take off before he has a chance to respond, but not before noticing the look on his face that says he had been hoping for a little something extra from me and shake my head in annoyance. I quickly scan the club, searching the meager crowd for signs of Bryn and Juel. “Where’s Bryn?” I ask as I walk up to Juel, all the while attempting to straighten the ridiculous black halter dress Bryn had made me wear. All night long the dress had been sliding every which way, threatening to dislodge parts of me I would rather keep hidden. Now, after hours of dancing, the dress was even more slippery covered in sweat. “You know,” Juel says as she turns around to face me from her perch on a barstool, “if you keep pulling on it like that something will pop out.” Horrified, my hands freeze at the thought. “Where’s Bryn?” I repeat. “I’m ready to go.” “Oh, you know Bryn…” Juel trails off, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. “She probably got a ride.” I roll my eyes at her comment. Bryn had so many guys following her around wherever she went that I couldn’t keep track of them. This is why we always take my car when we go out, that way I wouldn’t be stuck without a ride home. “Of course, if you happen to see her will you tell her I left?” “Sure thing,” Juel says before swiveling back around to face the bar. “Good-night, Addie.” “Night,” I call over my shoulder as I turn to leave. Pulling up in the driveway at home I automatically flick off my headlights. I was hoping Dad would be asleep by the time I got home, but the house was lit up like a beacon in the darkness. Obviously Dad had waited up for me tonight. And he had felt the need to turn on every single light in the first floor of our house. Flicking down the visor mirror to give myself a once-over before going inside, I take a moment to run my fingers through my tangled mess of hair in an attempt to conceal what my dad would undoubtedly call the ‘too much fun’ look. As I climb out I recognize a familiar looking black sedan parked at the curb in front of our house. What was she doing here? Planning to stomp in and confront Dad and his ‘visitor’, I fling the side door of the house open but stop when I hear their voices coming from the living room. “I thought you said this wasn’t going to happen!” Dad says pointedly, his normally quiet voice raised. “I didn’t think it would. It should have happened by now if it was going to. I thought she was safe,” said the second voice- a distinctly feminine voice with a hint of control and false comfort. Dr. Thorne. It really is her. What is she doing here? What are they talking about? Sensing they were having a conversation they didn’t want me to hear I edge the door shut behind me as quietly as possible. Pausing to take off the heels Bryn had loaned me, I begin to ease tip-toed down the brightly lit hallway. “If you thought it was too late for it to show up then what the hell was she doing still being tested?” Dad huffs in annoyance. “Like I said before, Paul, we can never be too sure—” “Obviously.” “I know this is upsetting, Paul, but we’ll get through this. She will get through this.” “What about Sera, Marissa? Did she ‘get through it’?” At the mention of my mom I lose all thoughts of being quiet and rush into the room, ambushing them both. “What about my mom? What is going on? Why is she here?!” I demand, pointing at Dr. Thorne accusingly. “Adelin,” Dad says, startled. “Why don’t you have a seat, Dear?” Dr. Thorne asks, patting the couch cushion beside her. “I’m not going to sit down- not until you tell me what’s going on!” I say in defiance as I cross my arms over my chest, willing my eyes to harder as I flick my gaze between the two of them. “She’s going to find out either way, Paul,” Dr. Thorne says calmly. Dad takes a moment to contemplate that before sighing and looking up at me. “Have a seat Adelin. Please.” Huffing, I take a seat on the small couch, making a point to sit as far from Dr. Thorne as possible. The dark green cushions try to swallow me in their fluffy embrace and I struggle for a moment to maintain my rigid posture. “Marissa came over to tell me, in person, that your test results came back….” He pauses, uneasy and glances at the floor before continuing, “Positive.” “Positive? But that’s good right?” I question, not wanting to believe what I knew he was trying to say. “No, it’s not good.” Dad mumbles, eyes still locked on the floor. “But— I don’t—” I stammer helplessly. “Adelin, honey, look at me,” Dr. Thorne commands soothingly, waiting until I lift my eyes to hers. “It’s going to be all right. Yes, your test was positive- you have the disease- but you’re going to be fine.” “Is that what you said to my mother before you killed her?!” I explode. At the demand (er... request) of others I have set up a Twitter account. This is my first time "tweeting" and I gotta say I am completely against it, for 2 reasons.
1.) Twitter and "tweet" just sound dumb. 2.) I have no idea what to "tweet" about. Seriously, what do people tweet about? And 160 characters?! That just isn't enough for someone like me - hell, this post is already more than 160 characters and I've only just started!! Us writer types have a lot to say!! I mean really, what am I supposed to tweet about? Am I supposed to say "I wrote a book, it's awesome... please stalk me?" Eh... guess I'll find something but excuse me in advance for my randomness or my blatant honesty. I don't believe in censoring. That said, if you're interested in following my Jessa-style tweets you can find me by following the link below or by searching for @JessaLGilbert (or you can find my Facebook, GoodReads and Twitter accounts by clicking the respective buttons at the top right of the page.) :) And, while I was checking my twitter to link below I found out I got my first unknown follower! Whoo hoo!! “Dance with me,” Vraiden requests, eyes smoldering.
“I’d love to,” I reply, allowing him to pull me in close. We danced together until my feet were numb, the couples around us slowly changing as time passed. Exhausted, I slump against Vraiden, breathing in his cinnamon scent. His warm breath tickles across my face. “Tired?” he chuckles. “Mmm-hm,” I mumble, nodding against his chest. “Come on.” He wraps one arm around my waist for support and begins leading me away. I half close my eyes as we walk, trusting him to guide me safely. I feel my knees give out from under me and wait for the impact but somehow instead of crashing to the floor I am floating. I open my eyes, baffled, and find myself looking right into Vraiden’s shining blue eyes- a flicker of amusement apparent within their depths. It takes me a moment to realize he is carrying me and then I try, in earnest, to get him to put me down. “No,” he replies with a shake of his head. “Vraiden, put me down!” “No. I’m perfectly capable of carrying you.” “And I’m ‘perfectly capable’ of walking,”I reply stubbornly. “Princess, I hate to say this but, you can’t even stand up by yourself. Now be quiet- you’re ruining the moment.” “What moment?” I ask confused. He flashes a dazzling smile. “The one where I get to be the chivalrous gentleman helping out the poor little damsel in distress….” “I’m not a da—” “Just humor me,” he cuts in with a roll of his eyes. “Fine,” I reply crossly as I relax back into his arms, “but you better not drop me. Or expect any ‘favors’ in return.” “I wouldn’t dream of it. Besides, you don’t look like you have the kind of energy it would require to do me a ‘favor’,” he responds with a smirk, making me blush. Well.... I made a blog! Yippee!! This is my first attempt at blogging, I've always thought it seemed kind of pretentious but I was "convinced" (*cough* forced *cough cough*) to do it so here you have it. This website and blog is a group effort done by me and 3 of my online buddies since I was so adamant about not wanting to do it (and they were so adamant about it being done). So, here you have it, my blog. As you've probably guessed, I am writing a book (duh!). It's been a 3 year endeavor and it's almost done (hallelujah!), mostly thanks to the wonderful support of my friends who've read it and offered me praise and encouragement. The book (Origins) is about 90% done - all I have left now is a few additions, revisions and the final proofing but I have decided to self-publish... What that means: all of the proofing, editing, formatting, and artwork is done by me and not some fancy-schmancy publishing house, but it also means that I get a bigger percentage of my sales so I'm not gonna complain. One more thing before I sign off, the cover artwork and header images viewed here are the original work of Steven Askew, an amazing photoshop artist who does red and black wallpapers. The original image (as well as Steven's official website with more wallpapers) can be found by clicking the "artwork" button below. That's it. I'm done. Enjoy your weekend!!
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