Friday, March 16, 2012

Silver Knight: Book One of the Silver series by Caron Rider

YA Paranormal
When seventeen-year-old Diana recognizes an elderly priest in a video on YouTube, she realizes that reincarnation is real and that she's been alive before!  Every night in her dreams, she relives her past learning that it's kill or be killed. Now a bishop at the Vatican whom she saved in another life calls on her once more.  She is needed to help defeat evil within the catacombs of Rome. But when she arrives in Rome, she meets Alexander - the man of her dreams! Through the centuries she has loved him - betrayed him...been killed by him. Will she give him another chance or this time will she strike first?

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In the milky duskiness of the early morning light filtering in
through tall, narrow windows in the outer wall, I paused holding
very still. I held my breath, listening, waiting. Nothing. As its
loathsome smell wafted through the hall, it crept somewhere
close but I could hear nothing. Where was it? I took another step
forward, cautious with my heart throbbing in fear.
In a hall of an ancient castle, my side hugging the cold stone
wall, I continued forward. My breath blew out in a cloud of mist,
while an icy draft occasionally moved tapestries hanging along
the walls. At the very edge of my consciousness, I knew I
dreamed. I had gone to my bed in happy anticipation of a good
night’s sleep, for I had not had a nightmare in over two weeks—a
rare occurrence. Maybe I had finally outgrown them…maybe
But now, frozen by cold and dread, my shaking hands were
empty when I looked down at them, and I began to panic. I didn’t
have a weapon! What if it found me? How would I defend
myself? What if…hold it! Focus. Breathe. I stood in a castle—
there had to be something.
The ceiling arced above me supported by strong, wooden
beams black with age. The faint scent of English roses rising
from wooden bowls full of fading flower petals failed to mask
the stench of the thing. A fox, trapped at the base of a tree,
surrounded by horses and hunting dogs, stared out at me in equal
terror from a lovely if disturbing oil painting. There at the very
end of the hall, standing in a slightly darker shadow, I saw the
outline of a thick man holding a long stave with a metal tip that
barely gleamed. A suit of armor! I sighed gratefully.
As I took a step forward, there came a crash from behind me
down the hall. I whirled around to see a ball of blackness roll
from a doorway that hid a staircase. It slammed against the
opposite wall with a wet squelch and uncurled to glare at me
through yellow slitted eyes. It took a split second to notice that it
stood about a foot high and had a slick, slimy head with no
discernible ears. Below a long snout filled with many, many
sharp teeth that gleamed in the faint light, it grinned evilly at me.
One step backward, then I turned trying to run flat out. But
there were only stockings on my feet below my thin, muslin
nightgown, which gave me no traction on the smooth stone floor.
Only a few steps further, then the creature—the demon, my mind
whispered—plowed into my back sending me to the floor
I awoke from the nightmare sitting straight up in bed
gasping, the shriek still echoing from the walls. Then I fell back
against the warm pillows, still feeling the claws digging into my
back and the teeth latching onto my shoulder. I gave it an
experimental shrug. Yep, still worked. I heaved a sigh and rolled
out of bed wanting to wash the sweat off in a hot shower before
getting ready for school.
My last days as a junior! Breathing in the fresh morning air,
I walked across the William Tindall High School campus
towards its main two-story building that housed the majority of
students. Woohoo! Second to the last day of school. Students
milled around in an upper parking lot next to the gym with its
attached auditorium and band rooms, reluctant to head to class
before the tardy bell. The final large building in the complex
housed just the freshman—the annex. The probability that older
students would send the little freshman screaming (or corrupt
them) led to their very own separate academy.
Later that morning as I weaved between my fellow students
heading down the hall to my English 11 class, Mr. Jakes stopped
me. He was our assistant principal in charge of discipline and
was rather short and round, wearing small, square, wire rim
glasses. You wouldn’t think that he’d be tough just by looking at
him, but I’d seen him get in this guy’s face once, and I never
wanted to be in that position. He did not yell, quite, but using
seriously stern, loud ranting, he became extremely intimidating.
I’d never seen anything like it.
“Diana, just to let you know, you’ll be in charge of the book
club next year. Over the summer, you’ll need to put a list
together of books so that the club members can vote on what to
Mr. Jakes sponsored our school book club, Authors Abound,
and our president had just graduated. We only had six current
members, which included Sam, Maggie, Manning, Vera, Amy,
and me. So I’d kind of thought that I’d be up for president this
year, since I had seniority now. I’d joined the club as a freshman,
and the others had come on board the following year. So here we
were, seniors at last! Or at least we would officially be seniors in
two days. Happiness swelled my heart because I loved the club
that we’d nicknamed AA. Our motto: Friends don’t let friends
not read.
“Sure, Mr. Jakes, some of us have already talked about
maybe the Lord of the Rings series. Plus we’ve already got some
new members lined up for next year. We’re supposed to meet in
the library later today to make sure we all have cells and emails.”
“That sounds fine but just be sure to let everyone give some
“Okay.” I was glad that my fiasco with his son, Tommy,
hadn’t caused any trouble between us. Tommy was a close friend
of Sam’s as they’d both been on the football team together. Since
Sam was dating my best friend Maggie, we’d all ended up
hanging out as a group pretty often, going to movies, the mall,
that kind of thing.
So when Tommy suggested that he would give me a ride to
the Junior-Senior Prom last month, I didn’t think anything of it. I
mean, I’d bought my own ticket, so I just thought, friends, you
know? Tommy thought differently. Awkward. Fortunately for
me, he’d been a senior this year and, upon graduation last week,
had joined the marines like his father before him. He would leave
for boot camp at the end of June. Semper fi!
When I finally got to English, Maggie was already there
talking with Allie Newton. Maggie wasn’t beautiful, in fact, she
was kind of ordinary looking…at least until she looked at you.
Then when you met her green eyes flecked with gold that filled
her face, you forgot she was ordinary—because she was anything
but. We’d known each other forever—well, since kindergarten.
We’d become fast friends when we’d spied a caterpillar climbing
the chain of a swing on the playground at the same time. We’d
agreed to remove it carefully, and take it to a tree at the edge of
the field.
“It’s on YouTube. Just search demon priest,” Allie said,
brushing her black hair from her shoulder so that it hung straight,
half-way down her back. She had an unusual fashion sense for a
teen in that she liked dresses. Not your normal, skin tight, short,
totally hot looking dresses but dresses that were long and
flowing, covered with little flowers and lace collars around the
neck. Because she felt like she towered over everyone (she
didn’t), she always wore toe flats.
“What’s on YouTube now?” I wondered aloud sliding into
my desk, wearing my typical jeans and Nike’s, my light brown
hair curling wildly around my face. My friends hated my hair,
but it was pure jealousy. My hair almost always looked the same,
even after swimming. While their hair was matted and knotted
with chlorine, I just had to give my head a shake, run my fingers
through it and my hair curled up, drying perfectly, even after
being windblown from the open car windows. They moaned,
attempted to use a brush, and usually ended by pulling on hats,
and I would sit there with a Cheshire smile.
“There’s a priest video that’s gone viral. He asks for
warriors because he needs help with demons!” Allie explained.
Demons, great—a shiver crawled down my spine as dream teeth
tightened on my shoulder.
“There have been all kinds of groups sprouting up across the
country claiming to be his ‘warriors’ apparently,” Maggie added,
and I raised my eyebrows.
“Not to mention the Demon Lovers website for devilish
dating. Millie sent me a link as a joke!” Allie laughed.
“Well, there’s all kinds of nuts out there, I guess,” I said
wishing the topic would change. Fortunately, Mr. Mason came in
and walked to the front of the room to begin class.
“Now remember everyone, your paper is due tomorrow. No
exceptions!” Our assignment had been to write a final term paper
on one of Shakespeare’s plays, our choice. I had chosen to do
mine on Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, traditional star-crossed
lovers seen in fictional literature as compared to historical fact. It
appealed to me because tragedy could have been averted with
just a little trust and communication. Maggie had taken on
Hamlet. They were both pretty decent papers but just needed a
little more tweaking before tomorrow.
When the end of the day rolled around, I headed to the
library for the AA meeting. I pulled open the door, closed my
eyes, and inhaled through my nose, loving the odor of paper and
leather bindings flavored with some vanilla potpourri Ms. Poe,
the school librarian, would put out. All the current members, plus
a couple of new students, stood near the podium at the far end of
the long rectangular room.
The library was wonderful—probably the coolest library in
the state with its twelve-foot high ceiling and walls filled with
books. At the opposite end of the room from the podium,
students could find ten cubbies that had computers set up for
research. Spaced out evenly in the middle of the room, three
rows of double-sided shelving full of books that we simply called
‘the stacks.’ In the corner by one of the doors sat a dilapidated
but cozy sectional sofa that someone had donated, perfect for
when you wanted to sit down and read a chapter or a magazine.
“Hey, guys, why don’t we arrange the chairs?” I started
dragging some chairs into the open space near the podium to
create a circle and the others pitched in. We had a ritual that we
simply had to perform for all newbies. So when everyone was
present and sitting down, I began.
“Hey, everybody, my name’s Diana.”
“Hi Diana!” All of the current members shouted back at me
with a grin, and the new wannabe members laughed in surprise.
“It’s been two weeks since I last read a book.”
“That’s okay, Diana, we know how busy the end of the
school year is. It’s all about baby steps,” Sam was always good
on the uptake.
“We’ve come together to put book titles down on a reading
list for next year, plus welcome new members to the club. So
without further ado, let’s just start on my right and go around the
circle so that you can introduce yourself.” There were only two
interested kids this time. In the fall when the freshmen came in,
we’d probably pick up a couple more.
The first guy just kind of leaned forward in his chair, waved
his hand, and said, “I’m Rob.” He was a junior, and I’d seen him
around. I thought he might be interested in Vera, which might
explain his sudden interest in the club, but we’d take what we
could get. After all, we got Sam because of his interest in
Maggie, and he’d turned out okay.
“Hi Rob!” We all responded.
“Umm, it’s been, like, a few months since I last read a
book.” Though obviously self-conscious, he appeared willing …
just the kind of member we needed.
“That’s okay, Rob, in this club, we’ll get you reading again,”
Maggie volunteered. “Friends don’t let friends read alone!”
“I’m Maggie and, sorry, but I read all the time,” she said,
grinning in appreciation at our “Hi Maggie!” response.
“I’m Sam. I only read when she makes me!” He pointed to
Maggie with a grin, and she stuck the tip of her tongue out at
him, as the rest of us gave a “Hi Sam!”
The next and last newcomer fiddled shyly with a thick strand
of blonde hair hanging down her shoulder. Her current status as
freshman would change in just two days to sophomore. “Hi, my
name’s Gabby,” she paused expectantly, and we didn’t let her
“Hi Gabby!”
“It’s been three days since my last reading.” Okay, she’ll fit
in just fine, I thought.
“I’m Vera. I read a lot but really love being able to discuss
it with the gang here.”
“Hi Vera!”
“I’m Manning. I’m a sci-fi freak.”
Sam gave him a high five slap as we exclaimed, “Hi
“And last but not least, I’m Amy,” she said smiling around
at all of us.
After the final “Hi Amy!” I said, “Good, that’s great.
Welcome all. Now let’s get down to it. It’s been proposed that
we read the Lord of the Rings series. Any thoughts?”
“Well, how much time are we going to spend on each
book?” Manning asked.
“If we include The Hobbit then we could spend a quarter on
each book,” Sam suggested. Sam, Maggie and I had spent all
weekend over spring break watching the movies one after the
other. He truly wanted to read the series now.
“I don’t know. That might be too much Tolkien for me,”
Vera said. “What about the one about Percy Jackson?”
“Okay, let’s throw some titles out there so that we can
decide books before we think about the time,” I suggested. “I
want to read that Dean Koontz book Intensity.”
“I want to read Twilight,” Amy said. I added Twilight to
Percy Jackson, Intensity, The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings on
the list.
“Lee Child has a new book out called The Affair,” Rob
volunteered. I guess we all looked blank because he added, “He
writes books about an ex-army MP investigator who goes around
the country and ends up helping people in trouble. You know,
gangster types might be leaning on a store owner who’s a single
mother. So this guy, Reacher, will blast them. My dad likes his
books, so I’ve read a couple, and they’re cool.” So I added it to
the list.
“I heard that Terry Brooks has a new book out in his
Shannara series. They’re kind of like the Tolkien books in that
there is usually a quest involved but not quite so wordy. I can’t
think of the name of it right off hand,” Maggie said. So Terry
Brooks’ book went on the list. I’d look it up later.
“Okay, any other suggestions?” I asked. Everyone looked
around and just kind of shook their heads. “Great, then we have a
fair list to choose from. Before we leave, make sure I have your
email address and cell number. This summer I will ask everyone
to vote on what our first book will be. I will be the only one to
know who votes for what, so don’t worry that anyone will pick
on you for your choice. And have a great summer!” I ended with
a smile.
* * * *
The next morning I awoke in another cold sweat sitting in
my bed but this time with the taste of ash in my mouth. Most
people don’t think about dying very much or the many ways in
which you can die. I think about it frequently…dream about it, in
fact, virtually every night. As a child, my parents didn’t
understand why I had such nightmares. Or how I could even
know about the different ways in which people could die or be
killed. After all, I started having the dreams when I was ten, not
exactly the age at which to know about being burned at the stake.
I had what many would describe as an idyllic childhood up
until then. My dad worked as a geologist for Shell, and my mom
had opened her own dental office.
They’d started dating in high school. Running to get to the
covered walkway because rain poured down, my dad had
knocked my mom into a massive puddle. You wouldn’t have
thought that would lead to romance, but who can explain the
older generation? She said he’d bent down to help her up, and
when they looked into each other’s eyes, they just knew they
were meant to be together. They’d gotten married while still in
college and moved to our current neighborhood when they’d
graduated. We lived in a good-sized two-story brick affair, in a
quiet well-manicured neighborhood where the Home Owners
Association had a hissy fit if you forgot to mow your lawn or
trim your hedges.
I attended Tindall High in Springfield, which always met its
Average Yearly Progress requirements, and made decent grades
most of the time, chemistry being the only subject I seriously
struggled with. Pretty normal, right? But every night dreams of
being hung, stabbed, choked, poisoned, tortured…it seemed
never ending…reeled through my head.
Becoming a serious insomniac and developing a terrifying
fear of the dark, my folks finally took me to see a doctor when I
turned 12. But here it was five years later, and still no one
seemed to understand why I dreamed such terrible images, least
of all me. Vivid imagination they said. Huh, I actually felt like
those horrific deeds happened to me.
The doc put me on drugs, of course, and that did help some
—for a while. Some nights no dreams came at all. But with the
drugs came a feeling of being trapped, trapped in an abyss of
darkness that nearly overwhelmed me, and I would wake
choking, struggling for breath.
Why is it that our species fears the dark? It is an innate fear
that even when logic tells us that nothing is there, we listen,
hushed of breath, trying to quiet our heartbeat and we know…we
know that something is there! In those dreams, I crawled through
mazes of darkness with unspeakable things chasing me, and the
creeping fear became worse than any death I had suffered in my
earlier dreams.
I didn’t want to see people get killed, and more importantly
—to me anyway—I didn’t want to be killed. I felt that I knew
them all…those dream people, feeling sorrow at their passing,
sometimes finding tears on my cheeks upon waking. But edging
through darkness, feeling rough, cold walls under my hands and
along my back, never knowing what was lurking in the shadows
or when something would attack, was the worst. I refused
medication after that.
The dream this night had begun in darkness when I first
heard the woman crying and then slowly a field took shape
around me. The sky looked that perfect crystal blue of spring
with just a few puffy white clouds above. Seemingly a lovely
innocent day breathed a cool, light wind across my skin. In the
distance was an exceptionally large manor house, or an
exceedingly small castle, not sure which, but I thought it
remarkably picturesque in the green countryside.
Then I heard the woman weeping, “Alexander, please.
Please not this. I did not send for him! I would never betray
you!” I realized suddenly that I was the one begging.
Looking up, I saw that iron manacles surrounded my wrists
and a chain led from them up through a ring at the top of a tall
pole. My arms stretched over my head with my back pressed to
the pole, pulling me up enough so that my bare toes just brushed
a rough wooden platform. As I looked around in a panic, I saw
straw and sticks piled on the platform, and under it, I knew
another mound of wood and straw must sit ready to burn.
Before the platform on the ground, a tall, dark haired man
stood watching grimly as workmen placed the bodies of two
slaughtered pigs among the wood. That was something of a
mercy since the pig fat would make the fire burn hotter and,
therefore, I hoped faster.
His black brows were pulled into a ferocious scowl across
his straight nose. He didn’t look particularly old, mid-twenties
maybe, his skin appeared tanned from being outdoors constantly,
and he had just a shadow of a beard on his square jaw. He wore a
slashed leather jerkin and a black sword belt over a red doublet
with black hose. It looked like he had come straight out of
Elizabeth I’s court, and I wondered if my love of Shakespeare
had finally made me demented.
The thought of burning—probably one of the most painful
ways in which to die—caused me to feel a terrible, aching fear.
“Please…just kill me! Use your sword—please not this!”
“You should have thought of what would happen before you
betrayed me, Diana.” His voice was harsh as if he too were in
“But I didn’t bring him here. I didn’t tell anyone. I swear to
you.” The truth rang behind the words. I truly had not committed
the crime for which he was sentencing me. Oddly, I did not even
blame him for what he was about to do—simply wished he
A monk had traveled into the province asking the peasants
about haunted areas. He had told old Martha that he would get
rid of any evil spirits that had been killing innocent people. She
had told him about a cave in the hills where through the years
people had been found dead, drained of blood with deep slashes
across their torsos. No one would go near the place alone though
sometimes children would challenge each other to enter it.
She told him that it had been several years since anyone had
been killed, but if he looked for evil, he could find it there. I
imagined that I could hear her toothless cackle in my head as she
would have relished telling the stories of the cave. What she did
not know was that I had taken care of the “spirit” years ago and
that the people did not need to fear the cave any longer. I
couldn’t exactly tell her though. She would have thought I was a
witch if I told her that I’d gone and “killed” the spirit living in
the cave.
It was just after I had been to the cave, years ago now, that I
met Alexander. I was in the village with my mother visiting her
childhood friend Jane. Alexander was riding his big, black
monster of a horse, Nightmare, when he saw us and stopped to
speak with Elizabeth, smiling down at me. He made such a
magnificent picture on that horse, sitting so tall and straight with
his dark hair ruffling in the wind that I stared at him in wonder.
When we were introduced, I remember that he found my name
It was not long after our meeting that he and my father had
arranged our marriage. I considered myself lucky and went
willingly into the marriage. He was healthy, young, and wealthy.
Not to mention handsome—much better than old man Tellus
who liked to pinch me while drooling down his chin. But…I
didn’t know. I didn’t know that he was part of the Dark. I didn’t
know that he recognized that I was of the Light.
The cave incident and our meeting were several years in the
past as I dangled with my back against the pole. We had been
happy together, I thought. He had given me freedoms that
women were not usually allowed…education, for instance, I
could read and write. That was part of the problem. He thought I
had written to the monk—sent for him. Sent for the monk to
come kill him.
It had been terrible luck that Alexander had been close to the
cave when the monk approached it. Again, it was unfortunate
that the monk recognized Alexander as being a demon.
Alexander said that the monk had shouted ‘I have come for you,
foul beast’ and charged him. He took that to mean the monk had
come specifically for him, and the only way that would have
been possible, in Alexander’s mind, was if I had written to the
“They call you Alexander the Black because they think you
have a black heart. But I know you. I know how you struggle
against evil. You don’t have to do this. You will find out too
late!” I gave the sobbing shout as a man approached carrying a
burning torch. He looked to Alexander and Alexander nodded.
He tossed the brand into the wood stacked beneath me and
the crackle of fire began. The wood caught immediately and
flames burst upward, smoke curling up from my feet like that of
a silver stuck demon. And then I could think of nothing but the
pain as the flames licked their way up and around me. Hearing
screaming, some part of me was surprised when I realized it was
me, my voice roughened with smoke and strain. I do not know
how long I burned before he finally took pity, but the last thing I
saw was Alexander the Black Hearted taking aim at me with a
cross bow to grant me mercy at last.

Do you believe in reincarnation? I don't, but I admit it can make for an interesting story. Silver Knight was a fun present day story that took you back to the past several times for a lot of nice historic tidbits as we get a glimpse of each warrior of the lights past lives.

Diana, has lived with nightmares of herself being killed over and over in horrible ways. She never understood why she had these dreams until she recognizes a priest on YouTube that she has seen in one of her dreams. Now she is convinced that she has lived out a life more than once and that killing demons is her job. Compelled to go to New York before heading to Rome, her and her two friends meet up with a few other warriors. Each of these warriors have had some very historical backgrounds.

Alex is a demon from Diana's past, we learn from her dreams that he kills Diana over and over in some horrible ways. He is absolutely ruthless, but he is also in love with Diana. Talk about some big romantic problems. When Diana meets Alex this time he swears he doesn't want to kill her anymore, but she just is not sure he can be trusted.

Even though Diana and Alex are the main characters the other warriors have a lot to do with what is happening, and the author gives them each a chapter so we can get to know them a little bit, there is Helen, David, Sol, and Jarret. Each I am sure we will learn more about as the series grows.

This first book I can tell is the builder for what is to come and because of this at times it feels like I didn't get to know Diana and Alex like I would have liked. Alex, doesn't come into the picture till later in the book, but from the little bit of a cliffhanger ending I know he will be a big piece of the next book.

There was a few things that I didn't really like, and I can't really say what it is without giving away some fun historical tidbits, but I will say it has to do with biblical references. I don't like my bible stories messed with much, but other than that and a few times I got confused with the shifting from present to past life, I enjoyed this book.

I can't wait to read Silver Demon and find out what will happen with Diana and her friends! I would recommend this book to anyone who likes your history mixed with a bit of fantasy.

Reviewed by Stormi Johnson
Lightening Book Promotions

What songs are most played on your Ipod?

Right now, anything by Adele, some Katy Perry, Eagles, Fleetwood Mac, Abba, Kelly Rowland, Bruno Mars, Lady Gaga, Rihanna, and a bit of the Beach Boys. Really this is the toughest question because I listen to so much music and so many different types of music. But if it hits somewhere in the Top 40, I probably like it. J

What was the scariest moment of your life?

My 10 year old daughter and I were driving to visit one of her aunts. It was raining and my car hydroplaned. If the road had simply continued straight, we would have been okay, but we were right before a curve and the car kept going forward ignoring the curve, straight into oncoming traffic. The funny thing about hydroplaning, your car actually picks up speed even though you take your foot off the gas. I looked at my daughter in the front passenger seat and thought that she was about to be dead. I threw my hand across her chest, trying to protect her in some way, yet thinking it was hopeless. At the same time, I had turned the steering wheel as far as it would go towards the right and when we were just a few feet from crashing into a car head-on, the wheels grabbed the pavement and shot us out of the way and into the ditch. I think it was the helpless feeling that was the worst. If I had been hurt or died, then so be it, but not my daughter. I didn’t want anything to happen to her.

Where do you dream of traveling to and why?

Being a bit of a history buff, it would have to be Rome. It’s the cradle of western civilization and I think it would be cool to walk through the catacombs that I write about. Of course, I’d also like to go to Greece for the same reasons. Then for pure fun, I’d like to go to Alaska because it’s so wide open and wild feeling and Hawaii because Hawaii 5-0 is one of my favorite shows at the moment and it looks beautiful.

Who is your favorite author?

People have been asking me about my influences and favorite authors, so I really have to recommend Andre Norton. She began publishing back in the 1950s and the genre is sci-fi and fantasy and good for all ages. She makes you feel as if you are a part of the story. It is my hope to emulate that feeling for my readers.

What was one of the most surprising things you learned while writing your books?

That silver has sooo many applications…from decorative to useful, currency to first aid. It’s why I chose it for my weapon of choice in The Silver Series.

Are the names of the characters in your novels important?  How and why?

Yes. To me most names have a double meaning. For instance, the lead character in my novel Silver Knight is named Diana. She is named for the Roman goddess of the hunt, also Diana and a warrior. I think adding layers to a story only adds flavor. Yes, some people might never make the connection but that’s okay because some will.

Do you have a favorite quote, quip, or saying? What is it?

It’s more a metaphor but goes like this: Fear is the gun for which your mind provides the bullets. 

Thanks so much for being here today and allowing us to find out a little about your life and creative process.  It's been a pleasure! 

In the 1990s, I began teaching adults to use computer software, hardware, and networking. After several years, my clients became younger and younger until I found myself tutoring high school dropouts to pass the GED. I found working with at-risk teenagers so rewarding that I changed my undergraduate major to Education.

Upon graduating from the University of South Alabama with a B.S., I began teaching high school history and continue to teach history classes online. Always wanting to encourage students’ creativity, reading and writing skills, I have put together a collaborative story telling effort at  I now live in rural Missouri with her two kids, two dogs, two cats, and father.

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Caron Rider, Author said...

Thanks for having me on your blog, Laurie!

Nata ArtistaDonna said...

wonderful giveaway
thank you

Alyssa said...

My favorite paranormal reads are the Lux Series (Obsidian, Onyx, Opal) by Jennifer Armentrout, my favorite YA paranormal author. She also has a series, the Covenant series, that I will start reading :D
Thanks for the giveaway!!!!
Alyssa S.