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Tuesday, November 17, 2015

IT'S MY BOOK BIRTHDAY!!

Happy Book Birthday to MYSTIQUE!! It is finally out in the world!!



Only Bauer Grant can pull off gorgeous while dead. But staying dead is another thing entirely. When he wakes up at his own funeral, the town of Mystique calls it a miracle, until it happens again. Something is bringing the residents of Mystique back to life, but what? Presley Caine finds herself caught up in the mystery when Bauer asks her to visit him. Presley can’t figure out why the most popular guy in school is so drawn to her. And when Bauer is kidnapped soon after, she looks to Bauer’s brooding best friend Sam, whose dad works for the powerful Mystique military base, for answers. In her quest to discover the truth, Presley’s relationship with Sam deepens, her feelings for Bauer are tested, and it becomes clear that her own mysterious past is somehow connected to these strange events. But is she strong enough to handle the truth when it is finally revealed?

I am so excited for you all to read it!! YAY BOOKS!!

Friday, November 6, 2015

SO CLOSE!!

A week this Tuesday MYSTIQUE is out!! Can you believe it??

You can preorder it off Amazon here.

And enter the Goodreads giveaway here.

Or check out the blog tour here.

Or simply stare at the cover here:


It's coming!!!

November 17th, 2015

Friday, October 30, 2015

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!

In honor of Halloween being tomorrow and all... I figured it would be a good time to share the first chapter of MYSTIQUE!!

It's a tad bit spooky, but there is love as well. Of course there is. =)

Enjoy!!


1.

Only Bauer Grant can pull off gorgeous while dead. His dark blond hair is tucked behind his ears, and his full lips are still pink. I’m drawn to his reflection in the gold cross hovering above his casket. His body is laid out as if in sleep. The church is overflowing, mostly with students. Some faces I recognize, but most are still a blur of new; new school, new town, new, new, new. I stand near the back of the church. I want to sit, pretend I’m one of Bauer’s friends here to mourn a life unfinished, but the truth is I’m working. For the last twenty minutes, I’ve been chasing down pings, chirps, and pop song ringtones, doing my best to silently convey “Turn off your cell phone. You’re at a funeral!” Apparently sadness is best communicated through text messages and Facebook status updates.
            A tall middle-aged man who introduced himself as Bauer’s uncle reads his eulogy—seventeen years of life summarized in three short paragraphs. The congregation sniffles and weeps along with Bauer’s family, who are sitting in the front row. No one is more distraught than his mother, who clutches a pale blue handkerchief in her right hand, her eyes disbelieving, while a parade of tears soaks the collar of her black dress.
            I think back to Monday and how I awoke to sunshine, but once the news started circulating, it was as if someone had placed a lampshade over the town of Mystique. The clouds grew thick, the sky turned dark, and down every hallway at school, someone was whispering his name.
            Bauer. Bauer. Bauer. When said in a hush, it sounds like wind blowing. And that’s when the November chill arrived. I watched it move the trees outside my English class while the girl behind me wept silently into her notebook. I wanted to offer her comfort, but instead, I handed her a crumpled-up tissue from the bottom of my backpack. And later, when I passed her in the hall, she smiled and said, “Thanks, new girl.” You’d think in a town this small they’d remember my name.
            I still don’t know how he died. I asked my boss Lisa, who is the funeral director, but she mumbled something about how it wasn’t important. “Just keep the aisles clear, Presley.” Words she said so often they could be her life’s mantra. While herding people to their seats, I tried my best to eavesdrop, but all I got was “So sad to lose someone so young” or “Without Bauer, there’s no hope for the football team.” And that was only near the back of the church. No one was talking up by the family, where the collective silence was as respectful as it was unsettling.
            His uncle’s voice breaks, and the microphone amplifies it to the back of the church. He barely gets to his seat before losing it altogether. I shift my feet awkwardly. I can’t cry. It wouldn’t be right. I didn’t even know Bauer. Even though I saw him every day at school and occasionally kept an eye out for him in between English class and calculus, when we’d usually pass in the hall, that still doesn’t make him my friend. And yet since the moment they wheeled his casket into the church, my throat has felt tight.
            The service ends with a song. The congregation finds the strength to sing, even though most of the people around me appear to be busy staring down at their hands while they fight off the tears that will eventually flow at the cemetery.
            I move to open the back doors, lifting empty Kleenex boxes as I go. Three men stand near the exit, looking very military in pressed suits so clean and dark in color that without the shiny trinkets pinned to their chests, they’d blend into the walls. They haven’t spoken a word to anyone since their arrival, instead, they just continue to hold up the back wall with their regulated posture. Is Bauer’s family military? I shrug internally. One more thing I never knew about him.
            I glance back at Bauer as the music swells to a finish, and he’s still where I left him, laid out in a velvet-lined box. Everyone files out of their seats, eyes touching upon Bauer’s face for the last time.
            Lisa busies herself with gathering the flowers to take to the cemetery. She looks up and summons me with her eyes. I know what she wants. It’s my job to explain to the family how they have a few more minutes to say their good-byes before we close and seal the casket.
            I glance over at the front pew. Bauer’s mother and father are huddled together as if drawing strength from each other. Bauer’s thirteen-year-old sister, Ophelia, is staring straight ahead as if she’s willing herself to be anywhere but here. With her right hand, she pats and soothes her younger sister, Jill, who in her three-year-old state doesn’t appear to know exactly why everyone is so sad. Or why Bauer isn’t responding to his name being called over and over again.
            When Lisa sees me falter, she approaches the family. Perhaps I’m not cut out for this. It feels insensitive to rush them. Lisa does it with a smile. My thoughts return to Bauer. For someone so popular, he sure did know how to look right at you in the hallway and make you feel like you weren’t invisible. I was too afraid to approach him when he was alive. And now that he’s dead, I’m still afraid.
            His eyes are closed. I try to remember what color they are, but my mind is blank. Blue? No. Green? I’m pretty sure I never noticed. I was too busy trying to look away. No one wants to get caught staring at the hot, popular kid. It’s so unoriginal.
            I reach out, daring my fingertips to touch him. I keep expecting his chest to rise and fall, but he remains still and silent. He’s cold, not like ice cold (which is what I was expecting), but more like when you touch one of those wax figures at Fisherman’s Wharf. You expect them to come to life, turn to you and brush your hand away, but instead you realize they aren’t real. They were never real, unlike Bauer. He may look too good to be true, with his clear skin and long eyelashes, but just last week, he was kissing his girlfriend in the doorway of my calculus class. Right before I reached them, Bauer stepped out of the way, narrowly missing me. I wanted to roll my eyes and be all “get a room,” but once Bauer looked at me, I forgot to use my words. The blush that colored his cheeks when he apologized did funny things to my stomach. He seemed genuinely sorry. All I could do was race for my seat, hoping no one else noticed how Bauer’s embarrassment was contagious. But Sam noticed. It appears Bauer’s best friend misses very little. Sam’s eyes followed me from the front row and only moved on once our class started.
            The lights in the church begin to dim as if a show is about to start, and I slip away from the casket. I can hear Lisa explaining to his family how in a few minutes the pallbearers will be coming to get the casket. “It’s okay,” she whispers. “It’s time to say your good-byes.”
            Bauer’s family rise to their feet as one, their arms encircling each other like a football huddle. Their next play: saying good-bye. For a split second, I wish I could be a part of that huddle, slip right under the rope of arms and move into the center. It’s very different from how my aunt and I acted at my grandmother’s funeral. It was just the two of us, and yet not once did we touch.
            A single-file line of men enters the church and gathers around the coffin. I recognize Sam near the front. His hair is cut short, neat and trimmed around his ears, and normally he would be one of the taller boys in the church, but today his shoulders are slumped. I can’t make out his expression as he stares down at his friend, only that his jaw is clenched. When the man closest to him calls his name, he looks up and our eyes meet. I’m the first to look away.
            The pallbearers’ heads collectively crane toward Bauer as if in prayer. Lisa moves toward the casket with a large metal key in her hand, and I’ve already forgotten what I’m supposed to be doing. What was I thinking when I took this job? Oh, yeah, college.
            Suddenly, a loud gurgling noise fills the church, followed by a gasp of breath. The pallbearers spring back from the casket. Some fall to the floor. I’m left a clear view of Bauer, who is no longer still but shifting restlessly in his casket like a fish pulled from the water. The sound that escapes my lips is something between a scream and a gulp. I take a step forward and then another—I have to see it for myself. Bauer’s flailing stops as abruptly as it began, and his eyes snap open. When he sits up in the casket, my face is the first thing he sees.
            I hear a solid thunk from behind me as Lisa hits the floor.


Don't forget it comes out NOVEMBER 17th!! 

Tuesday, October 27, 2015

MYSTIQUE the cover!!!

Three weeks from today MYSTIQUE is out!! Wanna see the cover??



Only Bauer Grant can pull off gorgeous while dead. But staying dead is another thing entirely. When he wakes up at his own funeral, the town of Mystique calls it a miracle,until it happens again. Something is bringing the residents of Mystique back to life, but what? Presley Caine finds herself caught up in the mystery when Bauer asks her to visit him. Presley can’t figure out why the most popular guy in school is so drawn to her. And when Bauer is kidnapped soon after, she looks to Bauer’s brooding best friend Sam, whose dad works for the powerful Mystique military base, for answers. In her quest to discover the truth, Presley’s relationship with Sam deepens, her feelings for Bauer are tested, and it becomes clear that her own mysterious past is somehow connected to these strange events. But is she strong enough to handle the truth when it is finally revealed?


November 17 is coming!!


Wednesday, October 14, 2015

MYSTIQUE

It's coming!! It's coming!!

It has been a very long wait... believe me, I know.

But it is official. MYSTIQUE is coming!

And the release day is...

NOVEMBER 17!!

Yes. Five weeks away!!

Here's the synopsis off Goodreads:

Only Bauer Grant can pull off gorgeous while dead. But staying dead is another thing entirely. When he wakes up at his own funeral, the town of Mystique calls it a miracle,until it happens again. Something is bringing the residents of Mystique back to life, but what? Presley Caine finds herself caught up in the mystery when Bauer asks her to visit him. Presley can’t figure out why the most popular guy in school is so drawn to her. And when Bauer is kidnapped soon after, she looks to Bauer’s brooding best friend Sam, whose dad works for the powerful Mystique military base, for answers. In her quest to discover the truth, Presley’s relationship with Sam deepens, her feelings for Bauer are tested, and it becomes clear that her own mysterious past is somehow connected to these strange events. But is she strong enough to handle the truth when it is finally revealed?


Stay tuned for the cover reveal...

Monday, August 24, 2015

I DO BELIEVE IN FAIRIES.

The first time my husband saw a hummingbird he nearly fell off the balcony. We were visiting family in Utah at the time, and he'd never ever seen one in his whole entire life! (He was in his late twenties) Needless to say it was a memorable day. I can still remember the sound of his tiny shriek of surprise. (It wasn't that tiny)

(Hummingbirds have been known to startle some people)

Recently we bought a hummingbird feeder. It's red and filled with red sugar water, and for the first few weeks it dangled from my porch, ignored by all hummingbirds. Probably didn't help that we watched it constantly.

"We don't have hummingbirds in Connecticut," my husband told me. "I've never seen one and I'm pretty sure they don't exist around here."

In the last few weeks the hummingbirds have circled our feeder and kitchen window as though they are more interested in us than we are in them. (Which isn't possible)
They do exist in Connecticut. And they have embraced our hummingbird feeder.

Truth is, once you spot a hummingbird in real life you see them everywhere. They followed us to Canada. They flew past us while we were exploring a lavender field here in Connecticut, and a few times now they have chirped at me while hovering just shy of my face.


To me hummingbirds are a sign that fairies could also exist. They are magical. And magic is something I believe in.

My favorite stories to write have a taste of magic to them. Not witches-and-potions magic, but anything-could-happen
magic.

If you've read NEVERLAND, well, you probably already know this. For years I've believed in a boy who could fly.

In my next book, MYSTIQUE, (coming soon) you will get a taste of a new form of magic. A magic that is bringing an entire town back to life (literally) starting with a seventeen-year-old boy named Bauer.

Disclaimer: You won't find any fairies in MYSTIQUE. But it's still a fun read.

Tuesday, July 7, 2015

WRITING THE SEQUEL

There are certain things every author must do when writing a sequel, one of which is the most important: make it as good, if not better than the first.

I am currently brainstorming and building the foundation for the next KATE TRIUMPH novel (otherwise known as KATE THE SECOND) and I have a whole lot of ideas and character arcs brewing in my head. I think about Jonah. Alot. And I think about Kate and Zack and how Kate and Zack will grow and develop in book 2. And I think about Andrew. And how his family is growing as well.

And I think about Olivia. Kate's mother is always in my thoughts.

It has been a very rainy summer so far in New England and as much as I've missed summer and sunshine, rain is helpful when you're writing about Mercer Island. But sun is much preferred when your characters leave the rainy West Coast and head to someplace warmer, and far more dangerous. =)

Just in case you were wondering what this blog post is about:

KATE TRIUMPH BOOK TWO is coming...

Thursday, May 7, 2015

NEVERLAND AND MUSIC

Today is day FOUR of the NEVERLAND BLOG TOUR!! If you missed any of the other stops and want to take the tour with us go here!



Reviews and interviews and playlists, Oh my!! And a giveaway as well!! =)

But today is the day I share the NEVERLAND PLAYLIST!! 

Music is extremely important to me. Without it my stories would never happen. 

Wanna hear what inspired the flying scene? Or the setting for NEVERLAND??

Click here!! 

I'd love to hear from you if any of the music connects with you as well!!

Happy Reading!! (And listening) 

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

TODAY IS THE DAY!!!

NEVERLAND IS OUT!!!

Today I get to share Meyer with all of you!! He has been following me around for awhile now, hanging out on rooftops, and today is the day you all get to meet him.

I can not tell you how happy this makes me!!!

NEVERLAND is available at:

Amazon in Ebook/Paperback

Smashwords in all forms of ebook


Happy NEVERLAND day!! I hope you all enjoy my reimagining of Peter Pan!!


Thursday, March 12, 2015

COVER REVEAL!!!

It's here!! Finally!!

I'm soo excited to share the cover for  NEVERLAND!!!

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT!!!!

So. Without dragging it out even more than I need to...

Here is NEVERLAND available April 7, 2015


Here is the synopsis from Goodreads:

It’s been four months since seventeen-year-old Livy Cloud lost her younger sister, but she isn’t quite ready to move on with her life — not even close. She’d rather spend her time at the Seattle Children’s hospital, reading to the patients and holding onto memories of the sister who was everything to her and more.

But when she meets the mysterious and illusive Meyer she is drawn into a world of adventure, a world where questions abound.

Is she ready to live life without her sister? Or more importantly, is she brave enough to love again?

Will Livy lose herself to Neverland or will she find what she’s been searching for?
 


It will be available for pre-order soon... likely by this evening. =) Feel free to add it on Goodreads.

Available April 7, 2015 

Monday, March 2, 2015

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE?

I didn't read Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie until I was in 8th grade. I remember staying in one Saturday and reading and reading and reading and falling in love with Peter.

I remember thinking he was a brat at some moments and completely intriguing at others. But from that day on I carried a piece of him with me.

When I was visiting London at the age of twenty I stumbled upon the Peter Pan sculpture in Kensington Gardens. I know it's shameful that a true Peter Pan fan such as myself didn't think to track it down, I had to find it by accident. But there it was... and I remember just staring at it as though it had followed me there.

I was working on a completely different book when the idea for NEVERLAND showed up. I remember standing in my kids' bedroom, looking out the window at the other rooftops I could see, and there it was: my shiny new idea. It was horrible timing. I was on deadline and I had no time for Peter, let alone Meyer — who became my main male protagonist.

But NEVERLAND didn't wait. It followed me around, and haunted me until everywhere I went I found myself staring up at rooftops imagining Meyer nearby.

I spent a lot of time thinking about "what if" situations after I read Peter Pan. In April you will all get a chance to read my "what if" when NEVERLAND releases.                                      

I hope you find it magical. And I hope Meyer follows you around rooftops the way he still follows me.

Tuesday, February 17, 2015

TEASER TUESDAY!!

Is it Spring yet?? Yeah. Whatever.

Even though it's negative temps outside (seriously?? WHY!?) there are good things happening today!

It's TEASER TUESDAY! Super exciting, I know!

Before the cover of NEVERLAND is launched (soon, I promise) I thought it might be fun to give a little teaser.

This story is about love and relationships... and magic. There should always be magic.

Enjoy!!!

NEVERLAND By Shari Arnold



Chapter 1

It’s just before dinnertime at the Seattle Children’s Hospital. Beef Stroganoff tonight. My sister’s favorite. I’m almost to the best part of Peter Pan — you know where Wendy has just walked the plank and everyone on the ship is freaking out because there was no splash.
I pause for a moment and smile down at the newest addition to story hour. She smiles back. She’s still clutching her mother’s hand like it’s her lifeline, but she’s no longer hiding behind her. So that’s something. Her light-colored eyebrows and pale skin make me think she was a blonde before they shaved her head and injected her with poison. And the light in her mother’s eyes tells me there’s still hope.
“Where’s Wendy?” Jilly calls out even though she’s heard this story countless times before. The way the children are watching me you’d think it was the first time I’d read it to them. Jilly claps loudly and the IV attached to her right hand sways back and forth as if it shares her excitement.
“Well,” I say, drawing out the word. “What do you think happened to her?”
“Peter Pan!” the children chorus, all except Gerald. He’s sitting in his mom’s lap, eyeing me as if I’m foolish for asking this question.
“She’s dead. Drowned in the water,” he says, before his mom shushes him. Lately Gerald has developed a fascination with death. And from what I hear some of the other parents find it off-putting.
“No! She’s not dead!” Jilly says in her most authoritative voice. “It’s Peter Pan. He’s saved her.”
And I laugh. Of course it is. Who else would it be?
I turn the book around to show them the illustrations and they collectively lean in close. A handful of the kids are sitting on the floor near my feet while the few who are too sick to leave their beds create a perimeter around us. But every last one of them is locked on, waiting for the happy ending. Even Gerald. Their eyes are wide and curious, and I love that. If I focus on their eyes I can forget the disease each one carries around like a nametag. I can forget that statistics rule their lives. I used to do this with my sister, Jenna, and near the end she would put her face right up to mine so that our noses were touching and say, “Can you see me, Livy?” and I’d say, “Always.”
Sometimes when I close my eyes I still see her: honey and peach-colored and never without a half-eaten candy necklace hanging around her neck. At least that’s how she used to be. But most of the time I have to pull out a photograph and remind myself of what her smile looked like, how her mouth was a mix of permanent and baby teeth. And how she had this funny little birthmark near her right temple that was shaped like an elephant, and when asked about it she would claim it was a tattoo because it would make my mother cringe and my father chuckle. After only four months of her being gone I have to rely on a photograph to remember how her eyebrows were so blonde you couldn’t see them unless you looked really close. And how her laughter was so loud and freeing that it would usually catch the attention of perfect strangers on the street.
“Livy? What happened to Wendy?” Jilly says, bringing me back to the present. I turn the book around and flip to the next page.
“Tick, tock. Tick tock,” I read and the children squeal: “It’s the crocodile!”
I stop reading long enough to glance up. I wish I could capture their joy and hold it in my pocket, bringing it out on those days when even the promise of a new toy can’t drudge up a smile. “This is what happiness sounds like,” I’d tell them as if a simple reminder is all they need to feel better.
“What happens next?” Gerald calls out, and then thinking better of it he rolls his eyes and says, “not that I’m interested.”
I’m about to answer when I notice him. That same boy. The one I occasionally see when no one else is paying attention. He’s standing just inside the doorway wearing dark jeans and a hoodie. His arms are folded, his ankles crossed. He’s lounging while standing up. And when our eyes meet he grins. Who is he? I know he doesn’t belong to any of the children here because I’ve asked. In fact, no one on this floor seems to claim him at all. But nevertheless, there he is. Watching me.
“Are you going to finish, Livy?” Gerald asks with his sandpaper voice. “You know, some of us aren’t going to live forever.”
The boy in the doorway raises an eyebrow as if he too is wondering if I’m going to finish. But he isn’t a boy. He’s perhaps a year or two older than me, which would make him barely an adult. Not a boy. But there’s something about his smile that makes him appear younger. More youthful.
“Of course I’m going to finish,” I answer, except now I’m nervous. My hand shakes when I turn the page and even though I will myself not to, I clear my throat.
“The sound of ticking is coming from the water down below. Tick. Tick. Tick.” I take a breath while the children continue to hold theirs. And he’s watching me. Still watching me.
I finish the story just as Nurse Maria strolls in to announce that it’s time for dinner. But the children don’t want food. They want Peter Pan. The few who entered the playroom on their own two feet are now flying about with their arms extended and their pajamas flapping. I smile while I watch them. They look so free, so happy. For a moment I forget their troubles, just like they have.
“Again! Again!” they cry. “Read it again!” Even little Sammy, who rarely makes any noise at all, has joined in. Sometimes I don’t even hear his footsteps before he tugs on my shirt to get my attention.
“Please, Livy!” Jilly begs from her hospital bed and I can’t look at her when I explain that story hour is over. I never want to be the one to tell her no. She hears it enough.
Nurse Maria makes airplane noises as she pushes Jilly’s bed toward the doorway.
“Don’t leave without saying goodbye,” Jilly calls out, her head arched back so she can see me.
“Never,” I say. Just like I always do.
“See you tomorrow, Livy,” Gerald squeaks out and his skinny arms wrap around me. He blushes when I kiss his cheek and it makes me want to hold him tighter, longer. “Try not to die tonight,” he says. “It’s dangerous out there.”
“I’ll be careful,” I say and playfully swat at his hair.

When I glance toward the doorway the mysterious boy is gone.

Cover coming soon!!