Real talk. Somehow, somewhere along the line, someone forgot my acknowledgments, so they aren’t in the final copies of my book, Marked. But there’s a silver lining! This gives me a wonderful chance to broadcast my thanks here, and share my gratitude in a really fun way.

So, my dear friends, here are my acknowledgements.

 

Marked Acknowledgments

1markedcoverreveal

The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places.”

– Ernest Hemingway

 

While working on the final edits for this book, it hit me. Tracked was all about fighting back after you’ve been cornered, but Marked is all about getting back up after you’ve been broken. So now that it’s time to say goodbye to Phee’s story, I’d like to take the time to thank some of the wonderful people who’ve lent me their strength, during the ups and downs, from the book’s first draft to its final chapters.

 

To my agent, Sara Crowe, for your unending support. I’d have given up long ago, if it weren’t for you. All hail the team at Harvey Klinger.

 

To my editor, Stacey Friedberg, for your patience, insight and clarity. I’m so grateful you adopted this book. Sounding board, cheerleader, idea bouncer, story fixer…you’ve been all this, and so much more.

 

To Jennifer Dee, for all that you’ve done. In a million ways, you made this Cinder Author feel like a bona-fide Cinderella. No one could ever have a better, more passionate publicist. Your work made all the difference.

 

To the rest of the team at Dial, to the sales reps and publicists and Penguins who’ve been kind and supportive: I’ll never forget it. A million thanks.

 

To my husband, Chris, for being my everything and always. Thank you for taking my writing dreams and protecting them. You put your strong arms around them, keeping them safe and bright. I love you, and I still believe…we make our own luck.

 

To my son, Conor, for being the best kid, the best comedian, the best co-conspirator, the best reason to laugh every single day.

 

To, Caron Ervin, for being my closest, truest friend. Thank you for all that you are.

 

To my dad, Charles, for reading every single draft of every story I’ve ever written. Thank you for being there, at every step.

 

To my mom, Marilee, for giving me confidence. I love you, too, no matter what.

 

To my Granddad Charlie and my Grandma Joy, for teaching me everything I know about sacrifice and service. There’s so much of you in Hal and Mary.

 

To Erik and Brett. We miss you. Every day.

 

To the rest of my family, to each and every one of you: thank you for the love and support.

 

To Rosemary Clement-Moore, Kate Cornell, Candace Havens, Sally Hamilton, A. Lee Martinez, Brooke Fossey, Brian Tracey, Steve Manning, Melissa Lenhardt, Russell Connor, J.B. Sanders, Tex Thompson and everyone else at DFW Writer’s workshop. Y’all are the best. Pass the pancakes.

 

To Julie Murphy, for being my sweetheart. Someday, I’ll bring the best mum for you.

 

To Sally Hamilton and Hafsah Faizal, for your beautiful designs.

 

To Jen Bigheart, for the shenanigans.

 

To Daryle McGinnis, for helping me land that flying car.

 

To Eric Smith, for championing Phee. Thank you for using your superpowers for good.

 

To Erin Bowman, Mindy McGinnis, Rachel Caine, Antony John and Beth Revis, for supporting Tracked with the kindest words. I’ll always be one of your fans, and I’m forever grateful.

 

To all my bookish accomplices, online and off—Amber Swindle, Meredith Moore, Becky Wallace, Amber Lough, Heather Alexander, Jenn Marie Thorne, Virginia Boecker, Kim Liggett, Lori Goldstein, Victoria Scott, Janet Taylor, Courtney Stevens, Victoria Schwab, Lindsay Cummings, Kari Olsen, Kristin Treviño, Kayte Ghaffar, Natalie Parker, Jeramey Kraatz, Stacy Vandever Wells, Kelsey Macke, Krissi Dallas, Jill Cox, Mary Hinson, Karen Jensen and Britney Cossey. To the Fourteenery and the Freshman 15s. To my Dallas and Austin and Houston girls. You’re in my heart.

 

And last but never least, to you, dear reader, for being the reason I write. You’re the best part of this journey. Thanks for taking it with me.

 

Always.

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Marked Pre order giveaway

The race is on. The stakes are higher. Tracked’s sequel, Marked, releases in two weeks, and I’m sweetening the deal for all pre-orders.

TRUST ME. You want in on this. Here’s why: 

Everyone who pre-orders Marked (and e-mails proof to readjennymartin@gmail.com) gets SIX under-wraps, get-em-until-their-gone, exclusive quote cards.

AND…everyone who e-mails proof of pre-order will be automatically entered into the GRAND PRIZE GIVEAWAY for: 

  • ANNNNNNNNNNDDD….a one-of-a-kind, custom-branded, pre-order-entries-only, your-name-on-it, MARKED racing jacket! 

Marked Jacket Front

Marked Jacket Back

 

The finish line’s almost here, so enter

TO WIN IT ALL. 

xoJenny

Order from Indiebound (❤️), B&N, etc. here.

Pre-Order MARKED from Amazon here.

Pre-order campaign ends May 16th. Thanks, lovelies!

Posted in Uncategorized 1 Comment
YA_ScavengerHunt_WebBannerHello! I’m Jenny Martin,

Your hostess for this leg of the hunt!

You are currently hunting on TEAM PURPLE!

Team Purple

YASHTEAMPURPLE

Looking for a never-seen-before, deleted scene from MARKED? You’ll have to keep searching.

Yep. Somewhere on the YA scavenger hunt blog hop, I’ve hidden a tantalizing scene from my sequel, MARKED. But before you go looking for it, check out the amazing author I’m hosting!

But first…

Scavenger Hunt Rules

On this hunt, you’ll not only get access to bonus content from each participating author, you’ll also get a secret number.

  • Add up the numbers, and enter it for a chance to win a major prize–one lucky winner will receive at least one signed book from each author on my team in the hunt! But play fast. This contest (and all the exclusive bonus material) will only be online until noon PST on Sunday, April 3rd!
  • Below, somewhere in this post, you’ll notice that I’ve listed my favorite number (Hint: it’s highlighted in PURPLE). Collect the favorite numbers of all the authors on TEAM PURPLE, and then add them up (don’t worry, you can use a calculator!)
  • There are EIGHT contests going on simultaneously, and you can enter one or all! I am a part of the PURPLE TEAM, but there is also a REDGOLDGREEN, ORANGETEALBLUE, & PINK team! Check out each team for a chance to win eight different sets of signed books!
  • If you’d like to find out more about the hunt, see links to all the authors participating, and see the full list of prizes up for grabs, go to the YA Scavenger Hunt page

The hunt is open internationally, but anyone below the age of 18 should have a parent or guardian’s permission to enter. To be eligible for the grand prize, you must submit the completed entry form by Sunday, April 3rd, at noon Pacific Time. Entries sent without the correct number or without contact information will not be considered.

I’m thrilled to be hosting…

Jolene Perry!

Bio: Jolene’s co-author, Christa Desir, lives in Chicago with her manic dog and awesome family. She’s a rape victims’ advocate, editor, and the author of Fault Line, Bleed Like Me, Other Broken Things and the upcoming Love Blind. You can find Christa on her website, HERE.

Jolene perry lives in Alaska with her lazy dog and awesome family. She’s a high school teacher turned writer, an unfailing optimist, and is the author of The Summer I Found You, Stronger Than You Know, Has to be Love, and the upcoming Love Blind.

You can find Jolene on her website, HERE and pre-order your copy of Love Blind HERE.

LB smaller

Love Blind by C. Desir and Jolene Perry

Shy high schooler Kyle Jamieson and Hailey Bosler, a musician with degenerative blindness, team up to tackle a bucket list of greatest fears in this compelling novel that explores what it means to take risks.

It starts with a list of fears. Stupid things really. Things that Hailey shouldn’t worry about, wouldn’t worry about if she didn’t wake up every morning with the world a little more blurry. Unable to see her two moms clearly. Unable to read the music for her guitar. One step closer to losing the things she cares about the most.

For a while, the only thing that keeps Hailey moving forward is the feeling she gets when she crosses something off the list.

Then she meets Kyle. He mumbles—when he talks at all—and listens to music to drown out his thoughts. He’s loaded down with fears, too. So Hailey talks him into making his own list.

Together, they stumble into an odd friendship, helping each other tackle one after another of their biggest fears. But fate and timing can change everything. And sometimes facing your worst fear makes you realize you had nothing to lose after all.

Bonus Material from Jolene(!):

Normally, when authors get a chance to share their book, they do it in words. Today, I’m sharing my favorite bits of LOVE BLINK in pictures. If you’d like to be clued in as to how this all falls together? Read the book. ;-O

LB for YASH

Wasn’t that awesome? There are about 76 reasons to love this book!

You can snag Love Blind HERE!

Or catch up with Jolene on her website or on twitter!

Ready to move on to the next link in the hunt? Then head on over to visit Caroline Patti’s website.

Thanks for visiting!

Want an extra chance to win a copy of Tracked, Enter below! Want these six(!) exclusive quote cards from Marked? You got it. INFO HERE.img_7988-2

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Posted in TRACKED, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , Comment

  
Want a set of six(!)exclusive quote cards? Pre-order MARKED from any retailer, e-mail proof & (US only) mailing address to readjennymartin@gmail.com. 

These are limited edition, 3×5 glossy beauties. Each quote is one of my very favorites, from a favorite, crucial MARKED scene. Consider it a sneak peek of the book that stole my heart and made me cry way too hard.   

Order MARKED from Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Marked-Jenny-Martin/dp/0525428712/

Order from Indiebound (❤️), B&N, etc: http://readjennymartin.com/my-books/

Pre-order campaign ends May 16th. Thanks, dearest ones! 

Posted in TRACKED, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , Comment

YASH

Hello! I’m Jenny Martin,

Your hostess for this leg of the hunt!

You are currently hunting on TEAM BLUE!

YASH Blue TeamYASH BLUE TEAM 2015

Looking for a never-seen-before, deleted scene from TRACKED? You’ll have to keep searching.

Yep. Somewhere on the YA scavenger hunt blog hop, I’ve hidden a tantalizing, tender deleted scene from my debut, Tracked. But before you go looking for it, check out the amazing author I’m hosting!

But first…

Scavenger Hunt Rules

On this hunt, you’ll not only get access to bonus content from each participating author, you’ll also get a secret number.

  • Add up the numbers, and enter it for a chance to win a major prize–one lucky winner will receive at least one signed book from each author on my team in the hunt! But play fast. This contest (and all the exclusive bonus material) will only be online until noon PST on Sunday, October 4th!
  • Below, somewhere in this post, you’ll notice that I’ve listed my favorite number (Hint: it’s highlighted in BLUE). Collect the favorite numbers of all the authors on TEAM BLUE, and then add them up (don’t worry, you can use a calculator!)
  • There are EIGHT contests going on simultaneously, and you can enter one or all! I am a part of the BLUE TEAM, but there is also a REDGOLD, GREEN, ORANGE, TEAL, PURPLE, & PINK team! Check out each team for a chance to win eight different sets of signed books!
  • If you’d like to find out more about the hunt, see links to all the authors participating, and see the full list of prizes up for grabs, go to the YA Scavenger Hunt page
  • The hunt is open internationally, but anyone below the age of 18 should have a parent or guardian’s permission to enter. To be eligible for the grand prize, you must submit the completed entry form by Sunday, October 4th, at noon Pacific Time. Entries sent without the correct number or without contact information will not be considered.

I’m thrilled to be hosting…

Lish McBride!

Bio: Lish McBride was raised by wolves in the Pacific Northwest. It rains a lot there, but she likes it anyway. She spent three years away while she got her MFA in fiction from the University of New Orleans, and she liked that too, although the hurricane did leave much of her stuff underwater. Her main goal in going to college was to become a writer so she could wear pajamas pretty much all the time. She currently resides in Seattle, spending most of her time at her day job at Third Place Books in Lake Forest Park. The rest of her time is divided between writing, reading, and Twitter, where she either discusses her desire for a nap or her love for kittens. There are about 777 reasons to adore her books.

Firebug by Lish McBride

Ava is a firebug–she can start fires with her mind. Which would all be well and good if she weren’t caught in a deadly contract with the Coterie, a magical mafia. She’s one of their main hit men . . . and she doesn’t like it one bit. When Venus asks Ava to kill a family friend, Ava rebels. She knows very well that you can’t say no to the Coterie and expect to get away with it, though, so she and her friends hit the road, trying desperately to think of a way out of the mess they find themselves in. Preferably keeping the murder to a minimum.

Bonus Material:

Lish has graciously given us access to a cut chapter from her forthcoming book, Pyromantic. Enjoy!

You’ve Got a Little Green on You

We made it back to our rooms and Bianca didn’t even fight me for the shower. I guess I smelled that bad. I tossed my clothes and my boots into the cleaning bag along with Bianca’s pants and footwear—marsh mud is quite invasive contains a stink beyond all imagining—and put them in the hall. I hoped Alistair employed some amazing cleaning fairies or something, because if we kept up at this rate, we were going to have to start fighting crime naked. Ezra and Sid probably wouldn’t mind. They were used to fighting naked.

We grabbed a few hours sleep before we were sent out again. This time I went with Ezra to put down a swarm of giant magic-eating locusts. We took a company car because Ezra flatly refused to take his. He didn’t want to get “funk” all over it. I guess he didn’t have high hopes for how our mission was going to go. I read the file to Ezra as he drove, because we were finally starting to learn that when Lock wasn’t around, we actually did need to read the files. Locusts, whether magic-eating or their more pedestrian cousins, are basically grasshoppers with an overcrowding problem. Get too many in one place and they change. They swarm, which means they eat and breed like crazy. Regular locusts can devastate crops and put a country into famine. Magic-eating locusts are just like that, only much bigger. On average they weigh in around ten pounds. Like their name implies, they are drawn to magic, which means witches in particular have problems with them. Spells, their plant ingredients, wards, you name it, the locusts want it. It’s like a heady siren call, or scent of a good steak as it hits the grill.

Alistair had taken a call from a witch friend out in Essex. This late at night—or this early in the morning, depending on how you looked at it—there wasn’t much traffic, but it was still about a thirty to forty minute drive out. It was really too bad that we weren’t driving though at a better time. Essex is known for it’s fried clams. Well, and antique shops, but I’m not as excited about those.

According to the witch, she had an infestation and was beside herself. Apparently she was worried that after her garden, they were coming for the house, and eventually, the witch herself. That sounded like solid logic to me. So Ezra drove like the very devil and we made it there by the thirty minute mark.

Her house was an old single story white house set on a small parcel of land. A nice wooden privacy fence surrounded the house and she had a few old trees to help block the neighbor’s view as well. The porch light was on, revealing a cheery red door and blue shutters. The paint looked new, the walkway neat, and the trees and bushes trimmed and healthy. The file had said she was an earth witch, so plants were her thing. Since locusts would be all over that, we headed around back to where here garden would be. Since she had been fending off an infestation for a while, it didn’t seem likely that she’d be answering the door.

The gate to the back yard squeaked as we opened it. Considering the state of the rest of the house, I had to wonder if she’d left it rusty on purpose. A good squeaky gate or door makes an excellent warning system. The back yard was all garden and greenhouse, the latter having a small covered work table attached to it. At least, it was clear the backyard had been all garden. Now, not so much. The locusts had ravaged a lot of the greenery.

Eliza Trement was by the greenhouse and she looked about ready to fall over. Her pajamas were a mess and her hair was falling out of its hasty ponytail.

“Oh, thank the heavens, you’re finally here. I have them trapped in the greenhouse.” She grimaced. “All my best plants, my new starters, gone.” Her shoulders slumped. “Still, I guess it could have been worse.”

It could have been. She’s lucky she had a greenhouse and that she was able to trap them.

“The spell won’t last much longer—I can feel those little buggers chewing their way through it.”

That was the big problem with magic-eating locusts. They went after creatures who’s first response was, well, magic. So the cure just made the problem worse, like throwing water on a grease fire.

“If I open the door, will they get out?”

She trembled as she considered, and I could see the sweat beading on her brow in the faint light coming from the house. We really didn’t have much time.

“Not if you’re quick.”

I opened my mouth, but Ezra put his hand over it. “If you say quick like a fox, I’m throwing away your birthday present.” He dropped his hand.

“You didn’t get me a present,” I said. Not to mention that we didn’t actually know when my birthday was because my mom had done her best to obscure that fact. Cade thought we should just keep celebrating the one we’d been using, but I hadn’t decided yet.

“No, but I had my eye on one.”

“That you were going to steal?” We centered ourselves in front of the green house door.

“No, actually. So there. I’m going against a dearly held fox tradition for you.”

“Using stolen money or conned money to purchase it counts as stealing,” I said.

“So picky.” Ezra put his hand on the door handle since his reflexes were better. “Now!” He grabbed my arm, yanked the door open, and pulled us inside while Eliza held the spell.

Have you ever walked into a room, like maybe a class room where you’re the new student, or a crowded auditorium and maybe you drop something so everyone turns and stares at you? And then you get this overwhelming feeling that everyone is against you?

That’s kind of how it was in the greenhouse. As one, three dozen beady little bug eyes turned on us as we pressed out back against the door. For regular locusts, three dozen does not a swarm make. But then, regular locusts can’t be walked on a leash. Anything over a dozen was bad news.

“That’s a lot of locusts.” Ezra shifted against the door. “Eliza must be some witch.”

I nodded, the heat of the green house, even this late at night, combined with the press of the bug-stare making me break into a sweat. The locusts had demolished most of the greenery in the greenhouse. Plants lay wilted in their pots, their magical essences drained. I could see a lot of wards on the green house walls and tables and spell workings spread out on tables. I’m sure they were all defunct now. The fact that so many locusts were drawn here and had only now started eating at Eliza’s outer spell containment field told me that she’d had a high concentration of magic in here to begin with.

But that magic was running out, and we’d just walked in and offered ourselves up like dessert.

Ezra licked his lips. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll shift to fox and herd them, you kick some ass.”

This is about as complicated as our plans went. “I’ll lob a few to get them to focus while you change.” I tossed a small fireball at the nearest locust while Ezra stripped down. The locust swallowed the fireball. The whole thing. He didn’t skitter out of the way or get hurt. He ate it. Then he hiccuped and a wisp of smoke came out.

Now, I knew the locusts ate magic, but I didn’t think my fire counted. It was an element more than anything else. But I guess the locusts disagreed. I hurled another, this one much larger and sent with more speed. Another locust jumped in to help the first, but the flame was still gone in a few quick bites.

Crap. We were going to have to do this the old fashion way. I scanned the greenhouse. Eliza was very orderly, which was nice. I could plainly see a neat row of tools hanging from a wall organizer. Unfortunately, the locusts squatted between me and the tools. A tug on my pants leg told me Ezra was ready and wanted to know why I wasn’t getting a move on. Eliza couldn’t hold on forever, and we would make a quick snack if I just stood here.

“Okay,” I said. “I need to get to the tools over there. Do your best.” Ezra yipped, a clearly disdainful sound. Foxes have a huge vocal range, and Ezra could add layers of attitude on top of that. I threw a fireball off to the left, hoping to draw some of the bugs. Ezra bolted in from my right, his red fur a blur as he tried to herd the locusts. The insects weren’t keen on his plan. They looked more like they wanted to herd him. He hopped around, nipping at legs, pushing with his nose. Nothing.

I edged along the wall, trying to not draw too much attention. A handful of beady eyes followed me, but most of the attention was on Ez. Annoyed at the lack of movement, he darted in and crunched down on the back leg of a locust. The locust screeched. Ezra immediately backed away and started gagging and retching. He looked like a cat with a hairball. I guess he’d forgotten about the part of the file that said locusts exude a sort of toxin when they swarm. It makes them inedible. He pawed at his muzzle, and any other time I would have laughed. I’d have to save it for later when things weren’t trying to eat us.

The screeching bug lunged at Ezra who hopped out of the way. Ezra was a little over twice the size of the locusts, so if he’d been one on one, he probably would have been fine. But with this many, he had to watch his step. The movement of that one locust apparently galvanized the others, who lunged toward Ezra en masse. He yelped and hopped away, then took off running. As he passed me, he cast me a look that plainly said, “Well, not our original plan, but it’s working, so hustle.”

I kept to the wall, heading for the tools. One or two of the locusts came at me, but I kicked them away. I kept an eye on Ezra, shooting a few fireballs his way if the insects got too close. I heard a sizzle and an indignant whine and knew my aim had been slightly off. Ezra passed me again, locusts in tow, the smell of his singed tail wafting behind him. I was going to get an ear full later.

The rake would be too cumbersome. The shears looked sharp, but they would require closer contact. I grabbed the hoe. Ezra raced by again, his tongue out, and I took a swing. Nice, light weight, well balanced, plus the little metal end crunched through the hard exoskeleton of the bug. All in all, I think the hoe is an undervalued weapon.

I swung again, hitting a few more bugs. One flew off and hit the side of the greenhouse, stunned. I hit the other right at some pivotal stress point and it exploded, covering me in a viscous green goo. I used my jacket sleeve to give my face a quick swipe, spitting out the bit that got in my mouth. Apparently, the flavor of locusts is reminiscent to bile. I gagged. At laughed at Ezra a minute ago for the same thing. Karma is a harsh mistress.

Ezra ran behind me again, his tongue out, and I could tell he was getting a little tired of sprinting. Foxes have a lot of endurance, but we were going on low sleep and fluctuating adrenaline over a long span of time can be exhausting. Not to mention the amount energy I was expending as a firebug. Who knew how much Ezra had been shifting back and forth. We were beat.

I got into a nice steady rhythm with the hoe. It became almost musical. Swing, whoosh, crunch, with the occasional thump thrown in. Goo splattered and bug bits were everywhere. Ezra, tired of running, bolted behind me to shift. I threw up a line of fire in the dirt floor to slow down the bugs so they didn’t jump me all at once. The lined up like pigs to a trough. Ezra, man-sized and starkers, joined me. He’d found a shovel. Not as balanced as the hoe, but the larger metal surface area made a nice sound as it struck the bugs.

By the time we were finished, my arms ached and I was covered in green slime, black ichor, and some other mystery liquid that smelled bitter and acrid. Oh, and bug bits. I held one up. “Is this an antennae?”

Ezra leaned on his shovel. “I think so.” He reached over and pulled a hind leg out of my hair, tossing it on the ground. Ezra hadn’t made out much better. He was smeared in all the same things as me, only he didn’t have the same barrier of clothing I had. He wrinkled his nose. “There isn’t a shower long enough. We reek. Again. And it’s starting to dry and it itches.”

I gave his shoulder a sympathetic pat, smearing some goo in the process. “We’ll probably have to house you down.” I brushed a chunk of thorax off my shoulder. “Do you think they’re all gone?”

Ezra scratched his chin. “I think so. Hard to count them, though. It’s like a bug puzzle in here. Why don’t you send up a flare and see if anyone comes out of hiding?”

I lobbed a softly glowing fireball into the middle of the greenhouse. A faint scritching noise came from the corner and Ezra walked over and bludgeoned whatever had made the noise into the ground.

“We’re done,” he said, tossing his shovel. I picked it up, putting it against the wall with the others. I didn’t hang it up. Eliza was going to have to wash it before it was put away, but I didn’t want to leave it on the floor. She was going to have enough of a mess to deal with.

Ezra grabbed his clothes off the floor, his mouth turned down in distaste at putting them on over his goo-covered body.

“Waiting isn’t going to make it any better, and we’re not showering here. We need to get back to the Inferno and try to catch a little sleep.”

His shoulders slumped and I heard him sigh. Oh, the hardships of a fox. Once Ezra was decent, we left the greenhouse. Eliza was slumped in a chair. She looked like she could sleep for a week.

“Is it over?” she asked.

I nodded. “Yeah, I think we got them all. You might want to consider bringing in a cleaning crew. The locusts made a right mess of your greenhouse.”

Eliza looked crestfallen and her lip trembled. Oh no, she was going to cry. I would rather face ten more locusts than deal with crying. People always wanted to hug you when they cried and I never knew what to do with my hands. Should I pat them? Hold them? Sing a song?

Eliza sniffled. “It’s that bad? I was hoping some of it was salvageable.”

My cheek itched where the bug juice was hardening and I fought to not scratch it. I wanted to point out that she still had a greenhouse and her life and complaining to us wasn’t going to help, but knew that would just make it worse. The bugs had just taken things, and things could be replaced. Crying certainly wouldn’t help.

Ezra could see that I was struggling to find my manners and he reached over and put his hand on my arm. “It’s like your bookstore.”

Then I understood. The bugs had taken away her sanctuary. It wasn’t about the broken things exactly, but at the violation of her innermost sanctum, her quiet space. The place where her heart lived. That I understood. I sent Ezra a silent thank you.

I took Eliza’s hand. “It could have been much worse. The structure is still sound, and I don’t think the locusts had dug into the soil yet.” If they had, they might have created a null spot, a magically dead zone, and Eliza would have to move her greenhouse. “Get a cleaner out here and replant. Are there any local witches that might give you some cuttings to help rebuild?”

Eliza wiped her cheek with her pajama sleeve. “I’m not sure. I don’t spend a lot of time with the community. The other witches around here, well, we’re not always that…social.”

I was betting that she meant they were proprietary over their spells and plants. Some practitioners didn’t like to share. “Well, reach out to them. Or give Alistair a call. He might be able to put you in touch with some empathetic friends.” Eliza sniffled again and straightened, steeling herself for the upcoming ordeal.

Ezra dug the car keys out of his pockets. “Just don’t call Mike’s Sparkle Time Cleaners right now. They’re swamped. It’s been a busy couple of days. Maybe someone local?” Eliza nodded and we made our goodbyes.

We climbed into the car, the early dawn light making it easier to see. Ezra and I stared at each other. We looked like we’d crawled out of an alien egg sack or something.

“We’re not stopping to get food on the way home, are we?” I asked.

“Not unless you want someone calling the cops. I’ll get us back as quick as I can.”

I sighed and tipped the back of my car seat back a little. “Better stick to the speed limits. The last thing we need is to be pulled over like this.”

Ezra scratched his arm and some dried bug juice flaked off onto the floor. “You see, this is what I love the most about our job—the sheer glamour of it all. Can’t be beat.” He threw the car into reverse and we headed back to the Inferno.

Wasn’t that awesome?

You can snag Firebug HERE!

Or catch up with Lish on her website or on twitter!

Ready to move on to the next link in the hunt? Then head on over to visit Melinda Salisbury’s website.

Thanks for visiting!

Want an extra chance to win a copy of Tracked? Enter below!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Posted in TRACKED, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , Comment

Hey, there!

1.) I might be coming to a city near you VERY SOON, so come out and see me if you can! Check out the tour stops for Tracked’s Rock & Road Tour:

Tracked-Summer-2015-Tour-Info (1)

(Seriously. I want to see you. And not only will I be very sad and lonely, but I will also be forced to eat all the refreshments by myself, if you don’t pop in and say hello. At each stop, there will be amazing authors and book swag and hugs and surprises, too, so BE THERE.)

2. I will be appearing somewhere on July 11th, and I CAN’T WAIT TO TELL YOU ABOUT IT. (No, it’s not Scranton. Sorry.) Stay tuned! 

3. Are you a teen writer? Are you responsible for the care and feeding of a teen writer? Do you know a teen writer? If so, I’m teaching a free, three session teen writing workshop at Southlake Public Library. It starts next week, at 2 p.m., on June 11th, and all interested 13 to 19-year-old human beings are welcome. I promise…it’ll be an encouraging, supportive environment where participants will be able to learn, ask questions and get helpful feedback. More info here.

 

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My first book came out today, and I couldn’t be more excited. On the outside, I’m a bit jangly, fueled by espresso and a double-shot of pure joy. But believe it or not, inside of me, there’s a quiet sense of calm, fed by gratefulness and wonder.

 

Because Tracked is the book that almost wasn’t. It almost wasn’t written, and it almost didn’t make it this far. It’s a bundle of my imperfections, eighty thousand words or so, folded up and sharply creased. It’s my little paper boat, set out on the water.

 

And that little boat–my debut–may not reach an ocean of readers. It might disappear, whisked into the gutter of a vast and indifferent universe. It may travel a little while, jostled and bouyed by the same. It may find good company–other boats, tracking a course, alongside mine…some bigger, some smaller, some carrying the same dream.

 

And my dream? My dream is that mine finds yours, that my story somehow resonates with you, and becomes something new, unfolded in your hands. It’s my deepest hope that Phee’s story–the story of Tracked–is transformed by your own unique experiences and imagination, into something just for you.

 

But if my words don’t make it that far, I am happy still. I’ll keep making paper boats and sending them out into the great, big wide. Each one, I’ll put on the current, in the hopes that it finds you.

 

Much Love,
Jenny M.

 

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