The Sweet Dead Life

“I found out two things today: One, I think I’m dying. And two, my brother is a perv.”

So begins the diary of Jenna Samuels, who is having a very bad year. Her mother spends all day in bed. Dad vanished when she was nine. Her older brother, Casey, tries to hold together what’s left of the family by working two after-school jobs—difficult, as he’s stoned all the time. To make matters worse, Jenna is sick. Really sick. When she collapses one day, Casey tries to race her to the hospital in their beat-up Prius and crashes instead.

Jenna wakes up in the ER to find Casey beside her, looking pretty good. Better than ever, in fact. Downright…angelic. The flab and zits? Gone. Before long, Jenna figures out that her brother didn’t survive the accident at all, and she isn’t just sick; she’s being poisoned. Casey has been sent back to help Jenna find out who’s got it out for her, a mystery that leads to more questions about their mother’s depression and their father’s disappearance.

I had a chance to ask Joy some questions about TSDL and the series. Here’s what she had to say:

CC: Where did the inspiration for writing The Sweet Dead Life come from?

Joy: My editor – with whom I’d worked briefly in the past—contacted me and basically he said, “I’m starting a new teen mystery/thriller imprint at Soho Press. I have an idea about this stoner dude who comes back from a fatal car accident as his dying sister’s guardian angel and they solve this vast mystery. Do you think you’d be interested in writing that book?” That was it – this one intriguing sentence idea. And of course I said yes! And then I asked if I could set the book in Texas, because that’s how the story was coming to me. After which, he said yes, and I sent him some sample pages and Soho Press/Random House was pleased and we went on from there. Beyond that, I found myself LOVING the idea of this flawed but angel-at-heart boy becoming a totally unlikely hero. And his sister Jenna came flowing out with such a loud and distinctive voice that the team at Soho jokes that they can all channel her when writing promo copy or editing! It’s something I’m so proud of , Jenna’s narrative voice. And I’m thrilled people are noticing, like this Booklist review: “There’s a whole lot going on here: poisonings, blackmail, sibling relationships, romance, and abandonment, in addition to angels, but the unifying thread is Jenna’s clever, bitter, self-aware, and loving voice…The small-town Texas setting is delightfully detailed, but not parochial. Preble’s lively descriptions and unusually well-drawn, caring sibling relationship (a topic not usually explored in teen fiction) are especially noteworthy.” ~Booklist

CC: The Sweet Dead Life is set in Texas. Tell us about that.

Joy: Like I said, that’s how the story came to me, and not just because I live here! But beyond that, I found myself thinking how great it would be to create this new series that was both a sibling story as well as a battle of good vs evil story and do it against the backdrop of Texas high school football and bbq restaurants and verging on rural suburban Houston. It’s a very specific subset of Texas: the northern Houston suburbs—in which both you and I live. But for those who don’t, think: Wal-Marts and Olive Gardens and huge mansions juxtaposed against double-wide trailers and tough East Texas folks drinking sweet tea and going to Friday night football and possibly less surprised than the rest of the country if an angel was walking amongst them. Not that they know… Texas seemed the perfect place. Houston even more so. Although they do road trip it to Austin now and then…

CC: TSDL is Casey’s story to a large degree, since he’s the one who comes back as an angel. So could you talk about choosing his younger sister Jenna as the narrator?

Joy: Again, the narrative choice was originally my editor’s. But I did agree. I love the juxtaposition of Jenna’s innocence—albeit with a feisty, sarcastic voice—with Casey’s less than reputable habits and subsequent angel journey. Having Jenna narrate heightens the reader’s sense of what is happening to this family and as the series continues with next year’s The A Word, also allows you to see the larger battle of good and evil through a fresh set of eyes as well.

CC: Speaking of Casey, this is a very different kind of angel book. In what ways do you see it putting a different twist on the genre?

Joy: Well, from the beginning, we knew this book would be different and after that, we embraced its differences. Basically, Casey begins the story as more too-many-late night-taco-run flabby middle than tatted up/fallen angel hottie. While obviously paranormal, the novel grounds itself in the real life suburbs. And what seems to please a lot of early reviewers is that it is a mystery/comedy not a romance. Which is not to say that there is no romance in the book—there is (and in fact Jenna’s first romance ever plays a large role in the upcoming The A Word next year). But the sibling story and the family mystery play a much more central role. All of which readers seem to be loving. Yay!

CC: What’s next for Joy Preble?

Joy: Well, right now I’m finishing revisions and edits on The A Word. The first 50 pages will be appearing in the Soho Spring 2014 sampler that will make the rounds of the trade shows this summer. I am really excited about continuing Jenna and Casey’s story! And there are other projects in the works that I hope to be able to tell you about soon!

Want to find out more about Joy’s books? Head over to joypreble.com or follow her on Twitter at @joypreble.

Joy Preble is the author of the popular and highly acclaimed Dreaming Anastasia series. A former English teacher, Joy grew up in Chicago and is a graduate of Northwestern University. She is now a full time writer and lives with her family in Texas, where she has learned to say “y’all” without any hint of irony. A tireless advocate for literacy and great books, she is at the center of the all-important Texas YA scene.

Giveaway!!

This week I’m giving away one copy of Joy’s book The Sweet Dead Life to one lucky reader who leaves a comment. Remember, if you are reading this on Goodreads, you need to leave your comment on my website blog in order to win. Also, I have to limit this giveaway to U.S. residents.

Winners!!!

The International winners of Chosen at Nightfall are Stine Spo (Denmark), Jessadelle Ng (Singapore), Lena (Germany), Sarah Kalaitzidis (Canada) and Stephany Regina (Brazil). Please email your mailing address to cc@cchunterbooks.com.

The U.S. winners of Shadow Falls t-shirts are Nicole Stevens, Maragret K. and Kayla. Please email your mailing address and t-shirt size to cc@cchunterbooks.com.

She realized her mom wasn’t all bad.  No, she wasn’t perfect.  She’d made a lot of mistakes throughout her life, but after discovering a few things about her mom’s past, Kylie understood why her mom is the way she is.  Kylie accepted that everyone makes mistakes, and that everyone has flaws—even parents.   She also learned that when you love someone, you accept them and love them in spite of their imperfections.  So I hope on Sunday, you’ll take a minute like I know Kylie would, to tell your mom you love her.

Yes, the relationship between mothers and daughters can be trying at times.  Sometimes moms will want to make sure their daughters don’t make the same mistakes they did, so they try too hard to push them to be something they aren’t.  Sometimes, we try too hard to be what our moms want us to be.  Sometimes we rebel just because we don’t want someone trying live our lives for us.  But the thing we need to remember is that most of these difficulties stem from love.  So be patient, see past the issues to the love that exists in almost all mother/daughter relationships.

Now for all my exciting news.  First, thanks to all you readers, the Shadow Falls series hit number three on the New York Times best-seller list.  It also hit number twenty-five on the USA Today list. And I’m serious, this happened because of you.  So thank you!

Another bit of good news?  The audio book for Chosen at Nightfall is now available. Chosen at Nightfall was released on April 23, so many of you already have it. However, some people prefer audio books over prints.  I can see how an audio book is great to listen to if you are walking, working out, going for a long car ride, etc. So for you audio book people out there,   you can now listen to Chosen at Nightfall no matter what you are doing. It is available at Audible and at iTunes.

You can hear a clip of it here: Chosen at Nightfall

Now, for my third announcement, I have a lot of giveaways on my blog, and I usually limit them to residents of the U.S. I know I have a lot of very loyal readers who live in many different countries, and I haven’t forgotten you! This week, I’m having a giveaway for my fans who don’t live in the U.S. I’m giving away five copies of Chosen at Nightfall, with a Shadow Falls T-shirts to my international fans.  Here’s what you have to do. Since Mother’s Day is right around the corner in the U.S., tell me something special about your mom, and tell me what country you are from.  Next Tuesday I will post five winners from outside the U.S.

I will also be giving away three t-shirts to my U.S. fans, so you guys need to post comments, too.

Thanks again guys for helping me reach my dream, and Happy Mother’s Day, to you and all your moms.

Meet Me at the Book Festival!

Do you live in or around Round Rock, Texas?  Are you coming to Yabfest on May 11th.  I’m hosting a special contest for those planning on coming.  Email me at cc(at)cchunterbooks.com, send me your name and your shirt size and tell me that you are coming and I’ll enter your name into a drawing for a free Shadow Falls t-shirt.  Three people will win t-shirts.   I’ll draw the winning names, email you and let you know you won, and then I’ll bring the t-shirts to the festival for you to pick up. Young Adult Book Festival (Yabfest) is a really cool event. There will be many YA authors there. To see a list or enter a book giveaway (you could win Born at Midnight, among others!), go to Sharon Bayliss’ blog.

Della’s Middle Name?

And the winner of the middle name contest is Claire luvs horses.  Della Rose Tsang.   Claire, you won a $25 gift card to either B&N, Amazon, or Katy Budget Books.  Email me with your card choice and address at cc(at)cchunterbooks(dot) com.

Winners!

The winners of Mari Mancusi’s book Love at 11 are Makenzie Bice and Ceci. Please email me with your address and whether you want  an ebook or hard copy to cc(at)cchunterbooks(dot)com.

I will never forget the day I started writing Love at 11. I was in the middle of a rough draft of what would eventually become the sci-fi romance Moongazer and I’d had the worst day at work. My executive producer had assigned me the stupidest story on the planet — Cosmetics that Kill — and I wasn’t making any progress on it. Simply because, cosmetics, as a rule, don’t actually kill. But the station loved the scare stories and hey, it’d sound great in a promo, so they weren’t going to take my objections or rationalizations. I was to find some makeup with gross, nasty bacteria lurking in it, have it tested and inform the world about all the grossness I found.

(Note: You’ve probably seen these germ stories before. They’re the kind of stories stations always fall back on to get the ratings. And no matter what you test–be it the bottoms of purses or the ice in ice machines, you’re likely going to find something that sounds gross to the general public. But what you don’t see on the news is that most of these germs, while icky, actually won’t harm you. Our bodies have antibodies to take care of those kinds of things.)

Anyhow, I started thinking about all that goes on behind the scenes in television news. How they exaggerate to scare, how they won’t tell you about something truly deadly if it involves one of their advertisers, how managers will only approve a story if you can attach celeb’s name to it (they wouldn’t let me do a story on teens cutting until I mentioned that Lindsay Lohan was rumored to be a cutter), how they fire veteran journalists who make too much money and replace them with hot 20 somethings who have no experience, but will practically work for free, etc. etc.

I started writing. And the words poured out of me. About Maddy, a hapless special projects producer, like myself, who was always assigned the most ridiculous stories. She longs to become a real journalist and work for a network news show that still takes pride in reporting the truth. Instead, she’s stuck with silly, sensationalized stories like Deadly Dishwashers, Killer Clay, and Perilous Pets–stories aired for the sole purpose of boosting ratings through scary promos–while the most shocking news event in her town goes unreported.

I think when many people read Love at 11 they will assume much of it was exaggerated for fiction. But while the plot and characters are made up, the inner workings of the television newsroom are extremely real. For example, these “Household Products That Kill” stories Maddy’s assigned are all based on real news reports I’ve been assigned over the years. We really did air Problem Pedicures, Cosmetics that Kill, Shower Shocker and the rest on a daily basis.

But just as Maddy and her photographer–sexy, motorcycle riding bad boy Jamie Hays–find a way rise above the corruption and risk their jobs to uncover the truth–in real life too, there are true journalists slaving away in the trenches. The unsung heroes who work overtime to expose the bad guys, right the wrongs, and produce fair and balanced reports. If anyone can save the industry, it’s them. They give me hope for the future and inspired the Love at 11 novel.

When Maddy graduated from Columbia University, she was ready to change the world. She’d get a job at Newsline, meet a nice guy, and live happily ever after with a real designer handbag on her arm. Two years later, she’s stuck producing puff pieces for News 9 San Diego–where “if it bleeds, it leads.” She’s still single, her family’s falling apart, and so is her knock-off Kate Spade. 

 Then Jamie Hayes walks through her newsroom door. The former filmmaker is now her cameraman and everything Maddy has ever dreamed of. Creative, smart, and sweet—with eyes that could make a girl melt. The perfect guy…but perfectly unavailable. And the more Maddy tries to stay away—the further she starts to fall.

 Now a secret scoop from her favorite knock-off purse guy has Maddy chasing a lead that could make her career. Or destroy it forever. How far is she willing to go to broadcast the truth? And will this breaking news lead to more broken dreams…or an exclusive on Jamie’s heart? Stay tuned…

It’s the story of a lifetime.

About Mari Mancusi

Mari Mancusi used to wish she could become a vampire back in high school. But she ended up in another blood sucking profession –journalism — instead.  Today she works as a freelance TV producer and author of books for teens and adults. A graduate of Boston University and a two time Emmy Award winner, she lives in Austin , Texas with her husband Jacob, daughter Avalon and their dog Mesquite. You can find Mari online at www.marimancusi.com or www.bloodcovenvampires.com.

Giveaway

This week I’m giving away two copies of Mari’s book, Love at 11.  But you must leave a comment in order to win. (If you are reading this on Goodreads, you have to comment on my CC Hunter Books blog to win. And, yes, sorry, but this is limited to U.S. residents only. But if you live outside the U.S., be sure to read the end of this blog!)

Haven’t Read Saved at Sunrise Yet?

In Saved at Sunrise Della…

1. Almost gets arrested.
2. Disobeys Burnett and skips out on her partner.
3. Comes face to face with Lee—and his fiance.
4. Gets thoroughly kissed.
5. Wakes up in bed with Steve.

You can read the first chapter here.  It’s available for only $1.99 at Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

Want to Meet CC Hunter?

Well, I’d love to meet you! If you live in the Houston, Texas area, come out to one of my Chosen at Nightfall signings. Tell your friends–better yet, bring them with you!

Friday, May 3rd, I’ll be at Katy Budget Books, Katy, TX, 7-9 pm. (The first ten people to show up and buy a book get a FREE t-shirt. The next 25 people will get a FREE signed posters.) http://www.katybooks.com

 Saturday, May 4th, I’ll be at the Barnes & Noble, The Woodlands, TX, 2-4 pm. (The first 25 people to show up and buy a book will get a FREE Shadow Falls t-shirt. The next 25 who show up and purchase a book will get a FREE signed poster.) http://store-locator.barnesandnoble.com/store/2200

And the Winners are…

Okay, last week I had a huge giveaway to celebrate the release of Chosen at Nightfall. I got many wonderful comments.

The winner of the Kindle or Nook is Elise N.

The winner of the copy of Chosen at Nightfall (hard copy or ebook) is Donya.

The winners of the Shadow Falls poster are Alison Troutman, Essie B. and Angela Sickles.

The winner of Jennifer Armentrout’s Apollyon is Mariah Kerivon.

The winner of Kelly Armstrong’s The Rising is Fiona Sutton.

The winner of Kiera Cass’ The Elite is Chastity Duffey.

I know I have many readers who live outside the U.S.  So, in the next couple of weeks, I am planning a special giveaway just for you. 

Yes, it’s here!!!  Kylie’s last book is out.  Her journey is complete.  I traveled with Kylie.  I’ve cried when she got her heart broken, I sighed with she got kissed.  I laughed when crazy things happened.  I felt Kylie’s pain when she learned that her parents weren’t perfect, but she found they didn’t have to be perfect for her to love them.  I have written and experienced Kylie’s life with her and so have you.

Do you remember when Perry turned into a cat?  Do you remember Kylie being kissed by Lucas down by the stream?  Or how about the warm, wonderful kisses she got with Derek when her world turned into a fairytale.   What was your favorite scene?  What part of Kylie’s journey have you enjoyed the most.  Boy, Kylie sure has come a long way since she first stepped on the bus to Shadow Falls Camp!

Today, I’d like to give away some neat prizes and ask for a some assistance in getting the word out, of creating buzz out there about Kylie, about the Shadow Falls series, and all the wonderful things she’s discovered along her life’s path.  What you have to do is either tweet/Facebook/ post something on your blog, or go out and tell someone about my book, tell them the parts you loved.  Then, leave a comment telling me your favorite scene.  I’m not only giving away a grand prize this week of a Kindle or Nook with a gifted copy of Saved at Sunrise, but I’m giving away three posters, a copy of Chosen at Nightfall, and because there are so many other awesome books out there releasing this month, I’m going to give one of each of the books, either print of e-book, posted below as well. (If you are reading this on Goodreads, you must post your comment on my blog page to win.) Unfortunately, I have to limit this giveaway to residents of the U.S.

 Apollyon (Convenant Series #4) 

by Jennifer Armentrout                                                           

The Rising (Darkness Rising Series #3)

by Kelley Armstrong

The Elite

by Kiera Cass

So make sure you help me get the word out there and make sure you leave a comment.  Then don’t forget to come back next week and see if you won.  Have a great week guys, and happy reading!!

In the Houston Area?

On Sunday, April 28th, I’ll be at Murder by the Book in Houston, TX at 2:00 pm.  I’ll be signing Chosen at Nighfall and revealing a few secrets. Shhh! And the first fifteen people to show up and buy a book will get a FREE Shadow Falls t-shirt. The next 25 people to show up and buy a book will get a signed Shadow Falls poster. To pick up your shirt or poster, just bring the line number you got the day the book went on sale. So come early. I really want to meet you and your friends!!! So,spread the word! http://www.murderbooks.com/hours-and-location

But of all the characters, I think I relate to Kylie the most.  I based a lot of her backstory on things that happened to me when I was a teenager.  I had a family member die when I was around her age, and my parents got a divorce, too.  That was so hard for me.  Plus, I had girlfriends making some bad decisions where boys were concerned, just like Kylie’s friend Sara.  I used all of the emotions I felt, all of the insecurities and uncertainties I experienced as a teenager, when I molded Kylie’s character, and I think it helped bring her to life.  I guess you could say I plagiarized my life to create Kylie.  However, Kylie is a lot cooler than I ever was.  Oh, and I never discovered I wasn’t human.

Readers also ask me which of the two love interest I relate to the most.  It’s so hard, because when I was writing a Lucas scene, I was a Lucas fan, and when I wrote a Derek scene, I was a Derek fan.  I can honestly tell you guys that I made a huge mistake writing this series.  You see, this is the first book in which I wrote a love triangle, and I didn’t know that I needed to make one guy so much better than the other.  I basically wrote two great heroes, both of them almost perfect for Kylie.  But as crazy as it sounds, I think I let Kylie make that decision and not me.

But I want to know which of my Shadow Falls characters to you relate to most and why?

Winner!

The winner of last week’s giveaway of The Collector by Victoria Scott is Tina N. Please email you address to cc@cchunterbooks.com.  Congratulations, Tina!

Who is Jordan M?  Well, you’ll have a read a bit to find out.  But I have to tell you, she’s someone who made my day.

When I sat down to write this blog, it was early in the morning on April 2^nd, the day Saved at Sunrise was released.  As crazy as it sounds, I still get this knot in my stomach when I have a book released.  I’m always a little frightened that the story will miss the mark with my readers.   That the things I thought were funny, won’t seem so funny to you guys.  That somehow, my characters will fall flat.  You would think that after having almost 20 books published, the nervousness would end, but nope.  Putting a book out, is a little like standing naked in public.  Because when you write a story, it’s part of you.  Writers dig deep into their pasts, their morals, their fears, and likes and dislikes to create these pieces of fiction.  So, all these pages are really parts of us.  Then when those pages are released, we are exposed, opened for the whole world to see, to read. It’s a scary thought.

Yet, while I’m nervous, I’m also excited.  I want you to read my book.  I want to know you laughed, that you got that knot in your throat in the same places in the book that I got a knot in my mine while I was writing.

As a writer I have a few fantasies.  And no they aren’t about hot guys.  Okay, I might have a few of those, but I’m not sharing.  LOL.  I have this dream that I will sit down on an airplane and casually look over at the person sitting next to me and he/she will be reading my book.  And recently I’ve been doing a lot of traveling.  While I haven’t run into someone reading my book, I did have something almost as good happen.

You see, when I travel for book tours, I get to the airport and my publisher will have a limo driver waiting for me in the baggage claim.  I spotted a man with my name written on a card, and he helped me with my bags and we started off to the hotel.  He had heard I was a writer and asked me what I write.  I told him and he shared he has a step-daughter who reads.  I signed a bookmark for him to give to his step daughter.

I thought that was the end of it, that I would never see the limo driver again.  Sure in the back of mind, I mused about how cool it would be if his step-daughter actually read my work.  Now flash forward a few days.  The same limo driver came to pick me up at the hotel to take me back to the airport.  And when he saw me, he told me that after he’d met me he’d called his step daughter, Jordan.  He asked if she knew who C.C. Hunter was.  He said, she replied, “Of course, why?” When he told her he’d met me, she thought he was just teasing. So, he took her the bookmark.

Then as we got into the limo to return to the airport, he handed me a letter from Jordan.  It was beyond sweet.  She told me what she liked about my characters, about how she thought some things were funny and some things were sad.

Jordan, thank you for taking the time to write me a letter.  Thank you for thinking I’m funny in the right places and for tearing up in the scenes that made me cry.  Thank you for being a fan.

And thank you to all of you who are reading and enjoying my books.  Without readers, without the really excited fans who run out and tell someone about Kylie Galen and Lucas and Derek, and about Miranda turning Kylie’s cat into a skunk, without you guys, I couldn’t be a writer. And I wouldn’t be releasing my fifth Shadow Falls book, Chosen at Nightfall on the 23rd of this month!

So I have a treat for you. Here is the video for Chosen at Nightfall. Enjoy!

Today, just because I think you guys are the best, I’m going to give away a copy of a book I read and enjoyed: The Collector by Victoria Scott.  Yes, she was my guest blogger a week or so ago.  But I just want you guys to know I read this, and she’s an amazing writer.  She’s a little bit sassy like I am–and you know I love sass.  Victoria has an amazing writing voice.  So, I think you guys will enjoy her.

Make sure you leave a comment to be able to win.  Thank you again.  And hey…it’s just how many days until Chosen at Nightfall comes out?  Soon, right?  Very very soon!!  I think those knots in my stomach are coming back.

Winner! 

The winner of last week’s Chosen at Nightfall giveaway Isaiah Aldridge. Please email you mailing address to cc@cchunterbooks.com. Congratulations!

So, here it is, now you can read it. It is only $1.99 at Amazon and Barnes and Noble. Although it is only available as an e-book, if you don’t have an e-reader, you can always download it to your computer or phone and read it there. So what are you waiting for?

In case you haven’t seen it before, here is the cool video for Saved at Sunrise:

In Saved at Sunrise, Della…

1. …gets a hicky from a hot guy.
2. …comes face to face with Lee—and his fiancé.
3. …almost gets arrested.
4. …gets thoroughly kissed.
5. …says something very hard for her to say—to Steve.

I think that’s enough to get your imaginations going, and if you read my blog two weeks ago, you have already read the first chapter.  But remember, Saved at Sunrise is only the first part of Della’s journey. I’ll be writing even more about Della in the future.

Winners and Giveaway!

The winner of my Chosen at Nightfall ARC giveaway from my special March 24th blog is Kelida Schuchardt.  You have until April 9 to email me at cc@cchunterbooks.com with your mailing address. Congratulations!

To celebrate the release of Saved at Sunrise, I am giving away another ARC of Chosen at Nightfall to one lucky person who leaves a comment. (Remember, if you are reading this on Goodreads, you must post on my CC Hunter Web blog to win. Sorry, but I have to limit this giveaway to US residents only.)

C.C. Interview Contest

On Tuesday, April 2, I was interviewed at Authors on the Air by Pam Stack. You can follow the link to listen to the interview, on their website.  I’ll be giving away THREE copies of Chosen at Nightfall, a Shadow Falls t-shirt, and a copy of Eleanor and Park by Rainbow Rowell. All you have to do is listen to the interview before next Tuesday and answer these questions:

1. How tall am I?

2. What is my favorite word?

I give the answers in my interview.  To enter, email the answer to Authorsontheair@gmail.com. That’s it!

Very soon, I’ll begin drafting the last book in The Collector series. It seems surreal, considering the first in the trilogy has yet to release. But my publisher, Entangled Teen, has introduced an aggressive release calendar, and that means I have to write—and I have to write fast.

I admit that when I first thought about writing the final book, I thought in terms of time. How long will it take to outline? To draft? To proof? How long until I’m done? You see, I have different projects I’m obligated to. And even more projects I have yet to contract, but am dying to write and sell. Things to do. Stories to tell. So little time.

But then I opened a crisp, new book I’d bought. It was the final book in a series I adored, and I was dying to read it. I’d waited years to get to this spot, to find out what happens. It’s the same way I hope readers will feel about the last Dante Walker book.

Suddenly, I wasn’t thinking about drafting the final book as a task. I was thinking in terms of my readers. What would they want to happen? How excited will they be to hold the last story Dante will ever tell? Once again, the readers gave me insight.

Next week, I start writing the final book in The Collector series. I will hold you in my heart as I write it. I’ll take my sweet time and remember I owe you a bang-up ending to Dante’s story. And I’ll pray that when April 2, 2013 arrives, and you grip the first book in your hands…you’ll anxiously anticipate what I’m drafting into the final book at that very moment.

You can now preorder The Collector at Amazon and Barnes and Noble.

Thank you for the inspiration! Hugs!

WINNER

The winner of last week’s contest is Sydney W.  Please email me, Sydney,  at cc@cchunterbooks.com to claim Amanda Brice’s Pas De Death.

Saved at Sunrise

Chapter One

“Do not put yourselves in any jeopardy. Your job is to infiltrate the gang by showing interest in joining, find out if they’re using murder as a rite of initiation, and then get out. Alive.”

“That’s my plan, too.” Della Tsang answered with sass looking up at Burnett James, one of the ShadowFallsAcademy owners who also just so happened to work for the FRU—Fallen Research Unit—which was basically the FBI of the supernatural world.

“We don’t want you to bring anyone in. We don’t want you to take care of the bad guys.” Burnett continued staring right at her.

Afternoon sun poured into the window of the ShadowFalls office behind him. The crystals sitting on shelves caught the light and cast rainbow-colored mirages on the wall. They danced and shifted as if magical. And maybe they were. Crap like that happened all the time here.

“Actually, Burnett said, drawing Della’s attention back to him, “we don’t think this is the group, but if it is, with your testimony, we’ll have enough proof to get a search warrant and we’re pretty damn positive we should find all the evidence we need to convict.”

Burnett, six feet plus, with dark hair and eyes, was a hard-ass who worried way too much,but being a vampire like herself, Della respected him and his hard-assness.

She just wished the respect was mutual. Seriously, didn’t he trust her? Didn’t he know she could friggin’ take care of herself? Did he really have to go over this again?

“I understand, sir.” Steve, the brown-haired, brown-eyed, great-bodied guy sitting next to her spoke up when she didn’t. For the first time, Della noticed his voice held a hint of a Southern accent that wasn’t just Texan.

Della glanced over. Steve gave Burnett his complete attention. What an ass-kisser.

Steve was evidence that Burnett didn’t trust her. Why else would Burnett insist Steve go with her? She didn’t need the shape-shifter. He was just going to slow her down.

“Wait,” Burnett said, pacing across the office again. “Let me rephrase that. I don’t want you to just get out alive. I want you to get out just the way you went in. Not wounded, not bruised, and for God’s sake, don’t leave any dead bodies behind. You got that?”

“Now you’re taking all the fun out of it,” Della smarted off.

Burnett growled. “I’m not joking and if you can’t take this seriously then get your vampire butt out of here, because I’m not playing around.”

Della slumped back in her chair, knowing when to shut her mouth. She really wanted to do this assignment for the FRU. Wanted to win Burnett’s respect. Everyone needed someone to impress. And since impressing her parents wasn’t an option anymore, she’d settle for Burnett.

Not that impressing anyone was the only reason she wanted to go. Even before she’d been turned into a vampire, she’d considered a career in criminal justice—something that allowed her to kick butt. Of course, her parents had frowned on that. They had her earmarked to be a doctor. They had her earmarked to be a lot of things.

But not a vampire.

Not that they knew what she was. The way Della figured it, if they went bat-shit crazy just because she’d stopping eating rice—which after being turned tasted like curdled toe jam—how the hell were they going to accept that she was a blood-drinking vampire? The answer was obvious. They wouldn’t, couldn’t accept it.

Lucky for her, she’d been accepted into Shadow Falls—a boarding school for supernaturals—and didn’t have to worry what her parents thought about her choice of careers, or whether she ate her rice or not. And yet . . . now Della couldn’t help but question if they ever thought or worried about her at all. Did they sit down to eat dinner and notice her chair was empty? Did her mom ever forget and set an extra plate at the table?

She doubted it.

Yes, they came to the parents’ day visitations, but they were always the first to leave, and eager to do it. Especially her father, the man Della had spent her entire life trying to impress.

A daddy’s girl, her mom used to call her.

Not anymore.

No doubt her sister had taken over that role.

Turning vampire hadn’t been Della’s choice. It was one of those things life slapped on your ass and you just had to accept it. Which meant she’d had to accept that her family would never be able to accept her. Not that it really bothered her. Not anymore.

She was so over it.

“Am I making myself clear?” Burnett asked, yanking her back to reality.

“One hundred percent,” Della said, working hard to keep her attitude from spilling over.

“Yes, sir.” Steve nodded.

Yup, an ass-kisser.

“Okay, you got your orders?” Burnett said. “You know where to go and what your cover is? They expect you to meet them at four in the morning. Don’t be late, don’t be too early. Don’t let them lure you back to their compound. The policy, if they follow their own policy, is that three of the members will meet with you to talk. You get the information about joining, you get out.”

“Got it.” Della held up the brown envelope. And you’ve gone over this ten times.

“Then go get your things.” Burnett eyed Della. “And please, don’t make me regret sending you on this.”

“You won’t,” Della said.

Della and Steve stood to leave.

“Steve,” Burnett said. “Give me a few minutes.”

Della looked from Steve to Burnett. What the hell did he need to talk with Steve about that couldn’t be said in front of her?

Burnett shifted his gaze to Della and then cut his eyes to the door.

Frowning, Della shot up from the chair and left. She stopped about fifty feet from the porch, holding her breath and not moving a muscle. Hoping Burnett wasn’t still listening, she tuned her own vampire hearing and waited to discover what the hell was up. The afternoon sun spilled over the trees, casting shadows on the ground as she stood frozen in one spot.

“I’m trusting you to keep Della safe,” Burnett said.

Della inwardly growled at Burnett’s chauvinistic approach and fought the need to rush back in there and give him some lip. I’m the one who’s gonna have to protect his butt!

“I do not believe this is the gang we’re looking for.” Burnett’s voice carried well. “Or I wouldn’t be sending you two. This is just a clearance check. But that doesn’t mean this group isn’t dangerous.”

“Don’t worry,” Steve’s deep voice answered. “I’ll keep her in my sight at all times.”

Like hell you will. She already had a plan of doing a little side trip, and she didn’t need Steve tagging along.

____________________________________________________________

That’s it! That’s all I’m giving you on my blog, but if you want to read the rest of Chapter One, go to my Books page.

Contest

To celebrate the upcoming release of Saved at Sunrise (April 2) and Chosen at Nightfall (April 23) I’m giving away an ARC of Chosen at Nightfall. Be sure to leave a comment for a chance to win. (And if you are reading this on Goodreads, you have to leave your comment on my CC Hunter web blog. Sorry,but I have to limit this contest to US residents only.)

No, not literally. Obviously. I’m so not a murderer. But I killed Jen Runkle from the At Random and GReepsThrough the Shelves blogs nonetheless.

It’s okay. She gave me permission to do so. She even paid for the honor.

Now I’m not in the habit of killing off bloggers, in general. I think they’re awesome. What better place to find out about new releases and get reviews? Yes, I definitely love book bloggers.

Which is why it was so sad that I had to kill Jen off.

But I took the liberty of massively changing the character. Sure, I used the name, physical traits, and a bunch of biographical stats, like her favorite saying (“Carpe diem”), her taste in books (I met her for the first time when I was signing at Turn The Page bookstore, which is owned by Nora Roberts’ husband), and her hobbies (bungee jumping and whitewater rafting).

Oh, and I also turned her into a not-so-nice-word-that-rhymes-with-witch. Which is absolutely not true in real life. See, it’s totally fiction!

And gave her a new “profession.” She’s still a blogger, but in my new book Pas De Death, she’s an arts critic rather than book reviewer.

So why did I kill her off?

Last May, I participated in Brenda Novak’s annual online auction to raise money for diabetes research. One of the offerings I donated was the opportunity to name the murder victim in Pas De Death, my new book that just released yesterday! And Jen had the high bid.

I admit that I expected the winner to get back at someone by killing them off fictionally, so imagine my surprise when she asked if I could kill her.

Er, I mean, use her own name.

It’s all in good fun and all for a great cause. So thank you, Jen! It was a pleasure to kill you. 

Wanna get in on the fun for my next book? I’m auctioning off naming rights to the victim in The Degas Code (Book 4 in the Dani Spevak Mystery Series, which should be out in Spring 2014). The auction runs from May 1-31, and the opening bid is just $3. Help Brenda break the $2 million mark!

CHAPTER 1 OF PAS DE DEATH

        They say the professional dance world is cutthroat.

I have no idea who they are, but I’d always thought they were being figurative when they said that. You know, hyperbole and all those fancy words from English class and SAT study guides. As for them, we never hear their names, so for all I know, it could all be an urban legend.

But no. Apparently they were being literal.

Wait a second, I should probably back up, huh? I guess that would be helpful.

Okay, let’s start at the beginning.

* * *
Bzzz…

My lame old skool cell vibrated against my thigh, alerting me to an incoming text. I pulled it out halfway, trying to sneak a peak at the screen without my attracting my seat-mate’s attention. To be honest, I shouldn’t have cared what the college student thought since I was unlikely to ever see her again after our bus arrived at Port Authority, but her perfect highlights, super cute pink and black slides, and exquisitely-cut, short black dress exuded a level of cool I could only even hope to aspire to. Why advertise the fact that I couldn’t match up?

Forget about an iThing. I had a genericThing. Once again I silently cursed my parents’ refusal to buy me a smart phone. They were generally pretty cool as far as parents went, but really — 2010 called. They wanted their technology back.

MEET @MBC @11.

One of the many drawbacks of my lack of a modern phone was no cute little talking bubbles to show our chat session, so I had to scroll up to see who sent it. Not that there was a potential cast of thousands or anything. The text could only possibly have come from either Maya or Analisa.

Scrolling…aha.Maya.

Maya Sapp was one of my two best friends. Well, actually one of my two best friends from Mountain Shadows Academy of the Arts. My lifelong BFF was actually still Sophie from back home in Sparta, New Jersey, where I was spending the summer. But during the school year I went to a boarding school in Scottsdale, Arizona, majoring in dance.

And I really did mean went to boarding school, because after my injury this past spring, I had no idea whether I was going to be able to return in the fall. Because it’s kinda hard to study dance when you can’t exactly dance, you know?

But I refused to think about that right now. Way too depressing, and I simply would not allow myself to be depressed. Nothing was going to ruin my day. I was on my way into New York City to visit my besties!

Okay, so technically I was on my way into the City for my annual food challenge at Mt. Sinai Hospital to see whether I’d grown out of my peanut allergy, but that wasn’t until tomorrow morning. Light years from now, really. Mom and I were going to stay at my Grandma Rose’s apartment in the Village tonight. Mom had already left for work early this morning, but I didn’t want to get up at 6 am for no reason — I mean, injury or not, this was supposed to be my summer vacation — so she and Dad agreed I could take the bus in all by myself. And since I didn’t have to meet her and Grandma Rose until the evening, I decided to go see the girls.

Analisa San Miguel, the other member of our little trio, was participating in the Summer Intensive at the Manhattan Ballet Conservatory. I was super excited for her, of course, since it’s an amazing company and she’d worked so hard and totally deserved it. Plus, she’d be a junior in the fall, so she was at the age where they started looking to possibly offer apprenticeships. But I was also insanely jealous, because I was supposed to be there with her this summer until I blew my knee out.

Sad panda.

I wasn’t going to think about that. I would be Zen-like. Grey sky out, blue sky in. Keep calm and carry on.

I’d been doing a lot of yoga breathing during my physical therapy sessions this summer (hey, I needed an excuse to steal my mom’s Lululemon workout gear despite not being able to actually, you know, work out), not to mention that my body image counselor had recommended the same plan, so even though it was usually a huge change for me to let my mind go blank rather than start making a to-do list during that downtime, I figured I should probably have the whole Zen thing down by now. I would not be jealous. That would be my mantra.

No jealousy. No jealousy. None.Be the Buddha.

The older girl looked at me funny, and it wasn’t because of my stupid phone. Shoot! I must’ve said that last sentence out loud. Well, whatever. It’s not like I’d ever see her again.
I was just about to text Maya back when I felt the bus halt. I figured we were probably stuck in yet another traffic jam on the way to the Lincoln Tunnel when I realized that the driver had turned off the engine and the passengers were all getting up, so I glanced out the window.

Hey, what do you know? We’d arrived at Port Authority Bus Terminal.

I was in New York City!

K, C-YA THEN!

After firing off a quick response, I grabbed my overnight bag and fell into the line of passengers exiting the bus. The sophisticated-looking college girl was several people ahead of me now because of my delay in texting, but who was I kidding? It wasn’t like we were going to be best friends or anything.

And it didn’t matter, because I was on my way to see my best friends!

My dad had given me some extra money to take a taxi to the Manhattan Ballet Conservatory campus because he didn’t think I should ride the subway on my own. I wasn’t a little girl — I’d been living on my own away from home at school for the past year — but I guess my almost being killed not once, but twice, last school year didn’t exactly inspire a lot of confidence in my ability to travel cross-town without running into trouble.

Which was so not my fault. It’s not like I’d asked for that kind of attention. Some girls attracted hotties. Apparently I was a psychopath magnet. And if we want to get technical, I’d totally shown I could take care of myself in the end. Those nut-jobs were behind bars, and I made national news for my heroism. He was taking “Daddy’s Little Girl” just a little too far.

So I decided to pocket the cash and take the subway anyway.

What? I was a teenager, not a saint. And I wasn’t making much above minimum wage teaching pre-ballet to two-year-olds at the town rec center, so I could definitely use the extra cash I saved by using public transportation. Besides, I was doing my part in taking care of the planet. Less carbon footprint. Yeah, that was it.

One weirdo ranting about the ancient alien takeover of Congress, two street performers of wildly varying levels of talent looking for handouts, three homeless bums, and four stops later I arrived at my destination.

I’M HERE

My phone rang as I strolled through the courtyard of the world-famous performing arts complex that housed MBC, as it was affectionately referred to in the dance world. For a second, I assumed it was Mom calling, and wondered how she could possibly know I’d gotten there already, but then I realized she’d be in class, teaching first-years about Miranda rights and executing search warrants. My mom normally teaches Criminal Procedure at Rutgers, but she was a visiting professor this summer at Fordham. She took the job because their law school is right next door to the plaza where MBC is located. I think she wanted to keep tabs on me, since I was supposed to be doing the Summer Intensive with Analisa and had this unfortunate little habit of somehow ending up the target of homicidal psychos.

But I’d screwed up those plans when I blew out my knee. The plans for Mom to spy on me from her office, I mean. My injury had nothing to do with thwarting the attempted murders.

Details.

I probably should have stopped in to say hello, but I wouldn’t have gotten to see Mom anyway, unless I interrupted the lecture to stick my head in the door and let her verify I’d managed to get into the City in one piece. And I was pretty sure that wouldn’t exactly put her on the happy-list with the school administration. Nah, I’d just send her a text instead.

After I answered the phone and finished the present call instead, natch.

“Hello?” I said, without even looking at the read-out.

“I’m running late.” Maya’s voice boomed from the tiny speaker. “I’m still on the 2 Train. There was a delay coming in from the Bronx, but I should be there in like twenty minutes, max. Probably less.”

Even though she couldn’t see me, I pouted a little. “What am I supposed to do until you get here?” I mean, really.

“You’re in the greatest city in America, Dani. I’m sure you can figure something out.” I could almost hear the eye-rolling.

Yes, I know that’s not possible. Work with me.

I shielded my eyes from the almost-midday sun as I looked up at the skyscraper at the far end of the plaza. The building housing the Manhattan Ballet Conservatory studios and dormitory also was home to the the Julian College student residences, a number of theaters, and office space for several fund-raising organizations like the Manhattan Opera Guild. Yes, I was aware I sounded like I was applying for a position as a tour guide. I’d practically memorized every page of the student handbook when I was first accepted into the MBC Summer Intensive.

Fat lot of good that did me.

If I squinted, I could almost see the dancers as the instructors put them through the paces of rigorous center work. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking, because the windows were pretty high up, and I couldn’t be in there with them.

Looked like a guy class. I craned my neck for a better view inside, hoping to catch a glimpse of my friend Patrick Velasquez, who’d danced the Cavalier to my Sugar Plum back in December, but then I remembered that the company members were at their summer “home” in Saratoga Springs, and as a new apprentice, he’d be there instead of taking class with a bunch of teenagers. Of course, he was still a teen himself. Amazing what a difference a couple of months made. He’d graduated from Mountain Shadows in May, and now he was a pro.

And as a student in the MBC Summer Intensive, Analisa was well on her way to joining him in pro land.

So jealous. And no amount of Zen thoughts was going to change that feeling.

“Do you know what time Ana gets out of class?” I chirped into the phone.

“I think” — static— “one.”

“One?”

“Look, I gotta go,” Maya shouted. I could barely make out every other word. “Bad reception.” No kidding.

Click.

I really hoped Maya was wrong. One was more than two hours from now, and it was getting way too hot to stand around in the summer sun, so I decided to head over to the school and see if I could wait inside. At least get out of the heat, even if the self-important security guard stopped me at the front desk.

Which he did.

“Yes?”

“Hi!” I summoned every ounce of perkiness I possessed and pasted on a fake happy face that could rival a Miss America contestant. “I’m here to visit MBC.”

His gaze did a little up-down thing as he swept the length of my body (which, I admit, was pretty ew, because, duh, he was like at least three times my age —um, illegal much?), and I could tell he was sizing up my figure to see if I actually had a shot of getting admitted to the program. (And you wonder why so many dancers have eating disorders?) “I’m sorry, but the school is not open for visiting hours. You’ll have to return during an open house.”

“But I’m Dani Spevak.” Wow, that sounded humble. Why should he care? “I mean, I’m here to visit Analisa San Miguel. I think I’m on her list or something.”

Okay, I was totally lying about the list. Maybe there was one, but I had no idea. I just needed an excuse to remain in the a/c. I thought I was melting outside on the plaza. Triple digit temperatures in Arizona had nothing on mid-90s with humidity in Manhattan.

He opened a notebook and ran his finger down the page. Hey, would you look at that? Maybe there actually was a list. A real-life “binder full of women.”

But before he could flip the page to the S’s, he looked up. “Oh wait, you’re that girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I was supposed to be in the Summer Intensive, but I had to drop out because I developed chondromalacia —”

“Kondra-what?”

“—in my knee.Stupid freak accident really. I wish I could say it was during a solo, but it was kinda dumb. I was hiking and twisted it or something, but my orthopedist said that was likely just the inciting event —”

“—Inciting? No, I meant—”

“—and that it really developed because of chronic friction between the patella and the groove in the femur through which it passes during motion, so it would’ve happened anyway. So now I’m doing physical therapy, but I hope—”

The guard waved his hands and my babbling stopped shorter than a Kardashian marriage. Why did I always resort to verbal vomit whenever I was nervous? Made me sound like a whiny, neurotic person with a possible side order of crazy. “I don’t care about that. I mean, you’re that girl. From TV.The one who caught those thugs.”

Yeah, about that. I should really have the words “That Girl” (in uppercase and with quotes, of course) monogrammed on all my clothes, since it seemed to be the most popular way to refer to me, ever since my national debut on Teen Celebrity Dance-Off last fall that resulted in me saving the set from sabotage. Rescuing my frenemy Hadley Taylor after she was kidnapped by a mafia flunky a few months later only added to the stigma.

I’d have to change my initials from D.S. to T.G.

I smiled weakly. “That’s me.”

“That was wonderful service you did, miss.” He thrust his hand out to shake mine. “A wonderful service. It’s an honor to meet you.”

“I didn’t do anything anybody else wouldn’t do,” I mumbled, as he crushed my fingers in his much stronger grip. Ow!

“No really, it was very impressive. I saw your interview with Faith Darcy.”

“I was also on Anderson Cooper.”

“I saw that!”

I gnawed on my bottom lip. “Just, um, doing my job.”

But I wasn’t, of course. Not really. My job was dancing, not solving mysteries.

Bad Dani, my job is dancing. Is, not was. Because I was going to be back at Mountain Shadows for my sophomore year in the fall, and maybe I’d even get into MBC next summer. I had a great physical therapist, and I had to trust she would help me.

I didn’t really have a choice. Giving up my dream of a dance career before it ever started just wasn’t an option.

At least not one I was willing to entertain.

“So what are you here for?” My new best friend, aka the front desk guard, asked. “A new mystery?”

I couldn’t exactly roll my eyes if I wanted to convince him to let me pass. Who did he think I was — a Gallagher Girl? “No, just here to visit my friend, Analisa San Miguel. She’s a student in Group V.”

“You know Group V doesn’t get out of morning class until one on Mondays, right?”

“That’s what I’ve heard.” Although not from Ana. That would have been good information to know before I made the trek over to the school. “So, can I pass?”

He genuinely looked sorry as he shook his head. “I’ll need Miss … San Miguel is it? … to sign you in. School policy. I’m sure you understand.”

I did. Nothing like an attempt on your life or two to appreciate the need for security guards.

“And she’s not out of class until one,” I said.

He nodded. “And then they have Pointe at four. But she’s not out of the current class until—”

“—one,” I answered for him. I could feel a little frown settling in between my eyebrows.

“Okay, got it. Thanks anyway.” Maybe I could go drop in on Mom after all.

I was pushing through the glass revolving doors, when I felt a tap on my arm that actually made me jump. But fortunately I checked to see who it was before letting out a girly shriek.

“Analisa! I thought you were in class.” Instead of crazed-scary-person shriek, it was more of an Oh.Em.Gee!-squee as we both leaned in for a hug.

My friend shook her head, a few stray curls escaping from her tight bun and threatening to mar her lead-in-Black-Swan-worthy look. “Just finished.”

I looked back at Officer … (I squinted to see his name plate) … Patterson. “But the guard said Group V gets out of morning class at one.”

Analisa laughed. “That’s true. But I’m in Group VI.”

I’d always really hated cliche phrases like “my jaw dropped.” I mean, it’s not even physically possible, you know? But right about then I realized that while it might not be the most elegant turn of phrase, it was the most effective way to describe the stupid expression that was almost certainly gracing my face at that moment.

Was Analisa actually in Group VI? Well, duh, obviously she was if she said so. She had no reason to lie to me. But it was sort of a slap in the face, nonetheless.

Because I’d only been accepted into Group IV. I figured Analisa would be a group level ahead of me, since she was a year older. But two groups?

More than ever, I felt a new urgency to get healthy again so I could return to dance school. I had work to do.

“Cool!” I said, swallowing my pride along with a healthy dose of real excitement for my friend. “That’s awesome. So, can you sign me in, Miss Prima Ballerina?”

Analisa screwed her face into a grimace. “Yeah, you must be hungry. Why don’t we go out for lunch?”

Change the subject much? “No, I’m not hungry, and don’t complain about my eating disorder. I’ve got that under control.” Mostly.

“Then maybe we should just step outside and wait for Maya.” She pushed me towards the door. “I think she wanted to take us over to Broadway Dance Center for a Triple Threat class.”

“But I can’t dance,” I protested.

“Sure you can,” she said as I disappeared through the revolving door, so I had to wait until we were both on the other side before I began speaking again.

I shook my head once she joined me outside in the heat, and pointed down at my ugly navy blue knee brace. “I’m supposed to stay off of it as much as possible. Only real exercise I can do is swimming.”

“But you can sing,” she insisted, putting her arm around my shoulders and sort of guiding me back through the plaza.

“And I can also hang out in your dorm room or watch your rehearsal,” I said, shrugging out of her hold and ducking under her arms to turn around and head back to MBC. “Seriously, Ana, I’m hot and tired and just want to relax in the a/c.”

She moved her graceful body in front of me to block my path. “You don’t want to go in there.”

“Why not?”

I could practically see the angel on her right shoulder warring with the devil on her left. She bit her lip. “Craig’s upstairs.” Not sure which celestial being won that battle.

“You’re right,” I said. “I don’t want to go in there.” And with that, I spun on my heel and sprinted across the plaza, knee injury be damned.

“Dani, wait!” I could hear Analisa calling, but I didn’t care. I had to get away. I had to think.
I turned the corner into an alley so I could be alone for a second or two, but soon learned I had company. A woman was slumped on the bench like a homeless person except that she was way too well-dressed, so more likely hung over. Probably one of the law students from next door misunderstood the meaning of “bar review.”

And that’s when I noticed her shoes. Pink and black slides.And a black dress. And blood.

Apparently I was wrong when I said I’d never see the girl from the bus again. But I wasn’t wrong about her never seeing me again. She wouldn’t be seeing anyone else either, for that matter.

Not now. Not later. Not ever.

She wasn’t drunk. She was dead.

Amanda Brice leads a double life. By day she’s an intellectual property attorney for a large federal government agency. At night she juggles raising two kids under the age of three with writing teen mystery novels, including Codename: Dancer and Pointe of No Return.. A popular speaker on the writers’ conference circuit with her workshops on basic copyright and trademark law, she is a two-time Golden Heart finalist and the president of Washington Romance Writers. The third book in her Dani Spevak Mystery Series — Pas De Death — was released yesterday. The first book in her YA time travel series — Party Like It’s 1899 — will be released this fall. For more information, please visit www.amandabrice.net.

Winner and Contest

The winner of last week’s giveaway of Shadow Falls: The Beginning and a bag of goodies is Katarina Hall. Congratulations! Katarina, please email me at cc@cchunterbooks.com with your address.

And for this week’s contest, I’m giving away a copy of Amanda’s book Pas De Death to one lucky person who leaves a comment.