Do you love it? As you know, I am in the process of recovering all by Breeders Books. Here is Book Two. For me, this is exactly how I pictured Clay. What about you? What do you think? 

I am in love with this cover. When I ran a 99 Designs cover contest to recover The Breeders, I didn't know what to expect. What I got was so many amazing covers it was very difficult to pick. But this above was the fan favorite and won me over almost instantly. I am hoping a whole new audience will see this cover and pick up the book. It is still free. Get it here if you haven't already. 

I love giving my readers free books and this month is no different. Below, are links to ebooks I think you will enjoy all for free or very cheap. Check them out. 

"I think that writers are made, not born or created out of dreams of childhood trauma—that becoming a writer (or a painter, actor, director, dancer, and so on) is a direct result of conscious will." – Stephen King.

I believe almost everyone had once tried writing. Well, if you did, the paper is just for you. If you didn’t, the paper is for you as well. Today, I’m going to share the most typical writing issues that prevent novice writers from becoming reputed pen wizards.

If you don’t agree or have something to add, feel free to share it in comments.

PART I: MISLEADING MINDSET

#1 Uncertain Position
How could you make the reader trust you if you don’t believe in what you say? The first common mistake of beginners is, oddly enough, their uncertainty. What’s the reason?

Currently, there are an incredible number of books on different subjects and for all tastes, so it’s quite challenging to cover something new that has never existed. Naturally, a novice writer hesitates whether it makes sense to try to bring to mankind if everything has long been written.

Well, that’s not true as every person is unique and has something to say to the world. Leave alone the f brilliant ideas of the past, think about the future! If you feel the need to share – do it, don’t hold yourself! Be sure, in case you worthy present your thoughts, you’ll be approved by the crowd.

#2 An Aspiring Writer is Confused and Does not Know What to Write About
​The second mistake comes from the first one. The problem of this kind often occurs because of the lack of experience in the field. Such a person may decide to wait for "better times," until he would gain the needed experience and be able to write.

Again, even a child has something to tell to the world. There’s no any boundaries – trust to your subconscious. Often, we do not represent what a storehouse keeps our brain and what incredible surprise can we do. Believe in yourself and be sure to try.

#3 Lack of Time
Actually, the lack of time is just an excuse that prevents the beginning of the development of any young writer. Of course, you can work all day and think about writing a book when you’ll take a vacation. Alas, but this doesn’t work.

To begin with, you have a very small chance to write something consistent at once. Please don’t think that all the popular writers were rich when they started writing. They just allocated some time for the lovely hobby that later turned into the main source of income. Moreover, writing requires training and practice. Believe me or not, that’s a kind of sport.

The solution is simple: write on a daily basis! Spend at list a half an hour writing. If you have nothing to write about, write down current thoughts and impressions. This will help to develop your writing skills and expand your imagination, perhaps.
​
#4 Absence of Working Algorithm
The fourth mistake is that most young writers don’t have any plan. No matter how well self-organized you are, you do need a plan! Schedule your work and cover as much material as you have planned.
​
#5 Greed
Never, never start writing just for money! Fame and money will come, but they shouldn’t be your original goals! A true writer gets pleasure from the creative process, and that’s the only way to create a true masterpiece.

I have a really exciting announcement for you. Coming November 1st a new Young Adult action adventure mystery thriller will be available on Amazon. This book has to be one of the most exciting I've ever written. It is a page-turner like you wouldn't believe and I am very proud of it. Mark your calendars. Here's the blurb to peak your interest. 

MONSTER ISLAND PART ONE: TAKEN

My name is Lucca DiVitas. I woke up in a burlap sack in a dark shed, and outside someone is screaming.

In my pocket is a note: Pay for your sins.
.  
Escaping my bonds, I realize I’ve been kidnapped. Tall trees and snow-capped landscapes tell me I’m far from suburbia. And then there’s the ocean crashing angrily against the rocks. I’m on an island with no way of escape.

Rushing toward the screams, I find Kat Voss, a scared teen, who claims she’s running away from a “snake with arms.” I decide she’s in shock until we find cages large enough to fit the world’s most dangerous animals. The cages are open, and they’re empty.

We uncover more mysteries—an observation room with cameras, a bloody operating table, and a fully stocked torture chamber.

Then we realize we aren’t alone.

A voice over the loudspeakers begins directing us, like a guide on the world’s most sadistic tour. The voice tells us to smile for the cameras. Blood is good for business.

If we can’t figure out who is doing this and why, it’ll only be a matter of time before one of us, or ALL of us, ends up dead.

​Monster Island is a Young Adult high-intensity action thriller where the pages turn themselves. Readers who like LOST, Maze Runner, and Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children will pick up this story and not be able to put it down.

COMING NOVEMBER 1ST!

It's official! Mark your calendars because The Barriers, Breeders Book Five will be ready July 5th. Here's the blurb to wet your whistle. And make sure you are a member of my newsletter for special early bird pricing. 


Book Five in the best-selling young adult dystopian series, The Breeders​

Riley hasn't seen her boyfriend Clay or her nine-year-old brother Ethan for two months. Between violent road gangs and ongoing clashes between the Breeders and the Free Colonies, are they even still alive? But Riley will never stop looking. Her search takes her to Kirtland Air Force Base, where she finds the remains of a battle and one glimmer of hope: rumors of the boys heading toward the Free Colonies and a man who can help her get there. The only catch? He nearly murders Riley the first time they meet.

Meanwhile, Clay, Ethan, and Betsy struggle to steer clear of bandits, thieves, and slavers. Their water is gone, along with Clay’s memory and Ethan's patience for Betsy, who only makes things worse by trying to convince Clay they're in love. With Clay's mind muddy, it’s up to Ethan to keep them alive long enough for Riley to find them.

The route back together is paved with trials—and how many more have to pay for their freedom with their lives?

Some of you may not know that, though I'm a young adult writer, I also write children's books and have a children's chapter book series called Portia Parrott. The first book won an B.R.A.G. medallion award from this amazing site, and this week I'm participating in their blog hop with lots of great books! If you don't know Portia, she's a smart and sassy first grader, and a whole lot of fun. Check out her interview. HER EBOOK IS CURRENTLY FREE. GET IT HERE.

​Interview with Portia Parrott

Portia, tell us something interesting about you. 

Well, I am not a bird. My LAST NAME is Parrott, but I don't have a beak or clawed feet. But once I fit a whole sleeve of crackers in my mouth. Then I threw up.

What's the best thing about your life? 
​
I am seven years old. Daddy says this means I can feed chicken guts to the alligators. But only if he's with me. 

You've recently moved in with your mother in Florida. What's it like? 

Florida air is hot like dog's breath. When I moved there to live with my mommy, I thought my face would melt. 

Tell us about some of your favorite things. 

I love snakes! And turtles! And lizards! My dad is a herp-e-tologist, so he touches them with his bare hands! I want to be like him when I grow up. 

We know you love Australia and all the animals there. Do you hope to visit there someday?

YES! My daddy is in Australia, filming his first TV show and I would love to go and see all the animals. In Australia, the flying foxes are as big as my neighbor's dog. And they say "shrimp on the barbie" and "didgeridoo."

Thanks for coming today, Portia. You, too, can learn more about Portia Parrott in her first book, Portia Parrott and the Great Kitten Rescue. 

Moving is the pits. Moving without your dad is even worse. When seven-year-old Portia Parrott is sent to live with her mom, she worries the only thing she'll like about Florida is the alligators. It isn't fair. Dad gets to film a TV show in Australia, and she gets sticky air and Mom's drooly rat-dog, Barf. Being back with her mom is nice, but her new classmates think she's crazy! No one cares how many snakes she can name. Worse, they want her to do homework! But when she rescues a strange kitten and sneaks it into school, the adventure really begins.

Also, enter to win free a $10 Gift Card from Amazon. Runners up will win ebook copies of books 1 and 2. Enter below. 

Book Five is coming soon! Here's a sneak peak to wet your whistle. 

PROLOGUE
 
Beetle drove up the cracked pavement road as fast as the depleted solar car would go, and Subject Seven followed.

He’d seen flashes of Seven in the rearview, racing along the roadside behind him, ducking in and out of debris, cactus, and brush. He’d stunned it, that much he knew for sure. Zapped it good from six feet away with his taser, a killer shot by anyone’s standards, but it had recovered so quickly. It was then Beetle realized he never should have come alone, or this late in the day. Now, with no sun to charge the solar car and no juice in the batteries, he was a few minutes away from having to run. And that would be a problem.

He’d tracked the damn thing all afternoon. The crumbled city was a veritable labyrinth of places for it to hide. Every collapsed building hid dark basements and closets. Every alleyway had piles of brick and trash, perfect hiding spots for a being as disgusting and ruthless as the one he was tracking. Then he’d found the lair. Both terrified and excited, Beetle had waded through nests of saliva-drenched newspaper wads and balls of stringy brown hair. Mounds of ripped and shredded fabrics, dirty sweaters, blue jeans, kids’ blankets all culled from the abandoned storefronts and dragged into the basement of one of the collapsed buildings on Main Street. But Subject Seven wasn’t in the nest. Satellite technology was not what it used to be, and that could explain the error in Dr. Washington’s calculations, but he had a feeling, all while climbing through chunks of the abandoned town the thing called home, that it was setting him up.

The damn thing knew he was coming and set up a false trail. One he followed until it nearly took his head off.

It was smarter than they thought. And more brutal.

They’d jumped him in an alley, Subject Seven and Eight working in tandem. He hadn’t even considered that Eight could be a threat. He’d nearly had his skull separated from his body before he’d gotten the taser in his hands and zapped them both, laid them flat on their backs (he’d given Seven a swift kick, too, not that he would tell anyone). He’d grabbed Eight and ran.

Now he glanced in the back seat at the mound beneath the blanket. Eight was still there—unconscious and safe. If he brought Subject Eight back, he’d receive a hero’s welcome. Dr. Washington could continue her experiments and “set the world straight again,” as she put it. If he failed? He didn’t know who he was more afraid of, Dr. Washington or Subject Seven.

His foot pressed the acceleration pedal to the floor, but the car continued to creep slower and slower, lurching like a drunk toward home. He had minutes before the juice ran out. Minutes until he was stranded with Seven coming after him.

“Come on, you bastard,” he said through gritted teeth. He pressed his foot down until it hurt, but the car continued to slow.

“Oh God,” he breathed, his fingers trembling as he glanced into the rearview. Where was Seven?
The solar car was safety, a solid steel-alloy frame with giant all terrain tires. What would he do when it finally died? Roads were a joke, concrete broken into more pieces than a shattered plate. How in the hell did he think he’d get away on foot carrying the nearly seventy pound cargo behind him? He couldn’t leave Eight behind. Dr. Washington would banish him into the desert.

The taser should’ve laid Subject Seven out longer. He thought a zap that powerful might’ve killed the thing. That one error might mean the end of his life.   

The car struck something and jarred to a stop. Beetle’s chest rammed into the steering wheel, shooting pain up his sternum. He heard a thump and felt something slam into his seat from behind. He hoped Eight was okay. Pressing the accelerator once more, wheels spun sluggishly, but the car stayed put. He was stuck.

“Sonovabitch!” he screamed, pounding the steering wheel until it hurt. Why wasn’t he paying attention to the road? Goddammit, he was not going to die. He was not!

Glancing out the car windows and seeing nothing but buttes and scraggly cactus, Beetle swung open the car door and ran to the stuck tire. The concrete had fallen away, tumbling into a broken pile on the bottom of a three foot crevice that cut jaggedly across the left side of the road. It had probably been created by those earthquakes they felt a few months ago. If he had seen it he probably could’ve dodged it, but he was too preoccupied with looking in the rearview. He leaned down beside the crack and examined his predicament. The tire dangled into the open space and the car was resting on its frame. If the batteries had any juice, he could gun it in reverse and probably get free, but the car had given up the ghost.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit!” he yelled and then regretted it, swinging around to look for Seven. So far nothing. Dear Christman Jesus, he had to hurry.

God, how far was he from base? In the distance, he could see the dip in the road that led home. Why had Dr. Washington sent him alone? Why wasn’t the team watching on the satellite and sending help? Maybe they were watching and didn’t care. Maybe this was all part of Washington’s plan. To see what Subject Seven would do when provoked. Sweat pouring down, Beetles face, he decided to hell with the Subject Eight. To hell with Dr. Washington. He didn’t want to be torn to pieces and left on the pavement for birds to pick at his guts.

When he heard heavy breathing behind him, all the hairs stood up on the back of his neck.
He turned slowly.

From the periphery of his vision he saw the huge shape just before it clobbered him.
He fell hard. His head jarred against the pavement with a smack that radiated through his body. Blackness gathered.

When he came to, everything was blurry, fuzzy shapes in brown and yellow and green. He couldn’t remember… Subject Seven. He turned, but pain shot up into his head sharp enough for consciousness to fade. He blinked his eyes into focus.

Subject Seven was climbing in the solar car, tearing it apart in a frenzy. Beetle heard the creak of complaining metal as the car’s door was bent back.

“Ssstop,” Beetle slurred, fumbling. Where was the taser? His trembling hands crept down his sides, searching for pockets that seemed miles away. The pulsing pain at the back of his skull threatened to end him, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Dr. Washington’s greatest achievement. And her worst.

“Don’t take it,” he managed.

Subject Seven turned and pounced.

All air chuffed away as Seven slammed both feet into his chest. He gulped for oxygen, but there was none to be found. He opened his eyes to see Seven’s face above his, evaluating, calculating. There was no mercy in that gaze.  

The last thing he felt was the blow to his skull.  


​STAY TUNED FOR MORE!