my writing

Last Chance to Enter Giveaway

Hi everyone! Cats GIF - Find on GIFER

It is not too late to enter my giveaway for a paperback copy of Beautiful Beast!

You can enter here: Rafflecopter

Once the winner is chosen, I will contact them and ask for an address so I can send them the book through Amazon’s gift feature. At this time, I am not able to send a signed copy, but I hope to in the future.

Please note that this giveaway is limited to the United States and Canada. 

All the best!

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my writing

Beautiful Beast Giveaway!

Yes, you read that right. I am running a giveaway for one paperback copy of Beautiful Beast. It will be held from July 10, 2020, to July 15, 2020, and you can enter by following this link to the Rafflecopter website.

Please note that this giveaway is limited to the United States and Canada. 

Beautiful Beast Giveaway
This is my first giveaway, so I am sure there will be some hiccups, but I thought it was about time that I try one of these things. Once the giveaway is over, I will contact the winner and ask them to send me their address so I can send them their copy. Unfortunately, at this, I am not able to offer signed copies of my book (although I hope to in the future) and will be using the gift option on Amazon to send the winner their copy.

Thanks, everyone. And may the odds be ever in your favour.

May The Odds Be Ever In Your Favor GIFs | Tenor

my writing

Prologue – Beautiful Beast

Hi friends!

I have some sad news… I had been hoping that today would be the release date for Beautiful Beast, but I’ve decided to wait one more week. My second proof copy hasn’t come in yet and I don’t want to make the book live if there is a flaw with it. But to make up for that, I wanted to share the prologue with all of you! It sets the scene and gives a little context for what is to come. I hope you enjoy reading it.

 

~ Prologue ~

 

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound echoes throughout the atrium and tumbles into the ballroom. I am startled awake and my abrupt movement of surprise causes the rose to slip off of my lap. Careful not to touch the thorns, I scoop it up and tuck it into my sash. It is a beautiful, delicate thing that I crafted with my own magic. Papa will be so proud. Whenever I accomplish something new, he smiles a broad, warm smile and I know he is pleased with his youngest child.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Already, curious guests are wandering to the atrium where the sound originated. Such beautiful guests. Mama has been planning this ball for weeks now, so everything is perfect.

At first, she had insisted that I go to bed, but I begged and begged and finally, Papa convinced her to let me watch. Before the guests arrived, I was tucked away on a sofa in one of the many balconies in the ballroom. But this was a special balcony, for I could see the entire ballroom in all of its splendour and also look through a little window at the adjoining atrium.

Of course, if I was going to a ball, I needed to look the part—even if no one else was going to see me. So, the seamstress made me a beautiful white dress embroidered with pale pink roses.

While my two sisters danced on the arms of every eligible bachelor in the room, I pretended to dance with my own suitor, a prince. There were my three brothers too. Oh, how I giggled into my hand at their antics. They must have charmed every girl in the room with their easy smiles and witty behaviours.

And my mother. Well, she played the piano. It is a beautiful instrument set into an alcove on one side of the ballroom. Even I, who have heard her play every day of my life, was enchanted by the music. It is what you imagine the music of faeries to be like; it is ethereal, or like a thousand tiny bells played in melodies as intricate as the patterns of the starry skies. Yes, beautiful, but sometimes I hate it because it makes her forget us; sometimes she allows it to consume her.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound comes again and although I tell myself I am being a silly pony, my heart trembles at the blows against the door.

Who could it be? All of Mama and Papa’s guests have arrived already. A traveller who lost their way in the forest, perhaps? That happens often enough. The enchanted forest is not for the faint of heart. But for everyone else? It is a wonderful place full of sparkling streams, golden trees, and shimmering moss. It has its dangers, but if one is careful, they are hardly a hindrance.

I stretch up on my tiptoes and peek through the little window as Cedric our butler glances at his pocket watch, then pulls open the great doors. A flurry of cold air whips into the atrium and with it comes a woman wrapped in a tattered cloak whose hood pulled up to conceal her face. Despite Cedric’s indignant protests, she shuffles toward the entrance of the ballroom.

Something about her seems amiss and my protection spell tingles uncomfortably. I want to shout a warning, to tell my parents that this is not a trustworthy woman, but my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth.

“What is the meaning of this?” Papa insists, coming to meet the woman at the threshold of the ballroom.

“May I not join you? I am but a poor old woman looking for a little warmth. Just let me sit by your fire.” Something that hints at contempt pollutes her words.

“Certainly not,” Mama snaps. “Such audacity, to think you can simply waltz in here and join us.”

“And who are you?”

Mama’s face reddens in anger, but Papa places a calming hand over hers. “Now, be reasonable. Cedric will take you to the kitchens and will ensure that you are well cared for.”

“The kitchens? Am I somehow lesser than you?”

“W…Well. I-I…” Mama stutters.

“To you, I am unworthy to dress in a fine gown, to dance with nobility, to eat at the tables of kings. All because of your powers. Your powers that you are so, so proud of. You treat others like dirt. You have hearts of stone. Hearts that care not whether we, the lesser folk, live in comfort or eat scraps like the dogs.” With this outburst, she throws back her hood to reveal a woman whose pale hair hangs loosely around her shoulders.

Galinda. She had been our servant until she disappeared two weeks ago. I overheard Papa tell Mama that he was worried that she blames us for her mother’s death and would come to seek revenge­. When I asked about it later, Papa said that Galinda’s mother died of the fever, but my brothers told me once that there was dark magic involved. Mama told Papa not to worry so much, but he was right.

“Now, Galinda, be reasonable. We never treated you badly.” Papa attempts to persuade calmly, but his hands shake a little. There is something different about Galinda, something almost otherworldly about her demeanour and it frightens him.

“And what of my mother? Did you treat her kindly? No, you did not lift a finger for her. You let her die.”

My mother steps forward in indignation. “She was a foolish, greedy woman who desired powers that she could not control.”

“She was sick.”

“She could have asked for…”

“Enough,” Galinda orders sharply and suddenly the room is so cold that I can see my breath puff out in little white clouds. Just as quickly, the air warms until it is nearly unbearable. Magic. And she is holding onto it by a mere thread.

“Galinda, stop this at once. You are going to lose control,” Papa warns in a tone that he uses to calm skittish horses.

“Yes, I will stop this.” But it is not Galinda’s voice that falls from her lips; it is a voice that fills the entire room. It whispers and screams and cries out all at the same time. In its tone, I hear something ancient and something darker than the dead of a new moon. I want to cover my ears and squeeze my eyes closed, but I can only stare in horror.

Galinda holds out her hands and smoky fingers of magic twist toward the people. They touch Mama and Papa first and cruelly coil about their throats. A blast of golden magic flies from Papa’s palms, but it is quickly swallowed by the thick black tendrils.

“For a hundred years, I have been a prisoner. I was locked away in a cave, in complete darkness, trapped by the magic of your ancestors. But now, my slumber is over, and the world will shiver at its reflection.” Again, the strange voice speaks from Galinda, but this time, it draws me from my fearful stupor and in a breath, I am rushing down the steps of the gallery. She is hurting my mama and papa. How dare she?

By now, the room is full of the black magic and it swirls about me like a tornado. It smells of something rancid, something dead, and the force of it stings my eyes and threatens to choke me. Yet, it does not touch me. It flows around me like a river streams around a boulder.

“Stop! Galinda, stop,” I scream and yank forcefully upon her right hand.

She shrieks and suddenly the black cloud is gone. What it reveals, though, is the horror of nightmares. The ballroom floor is littered with the bodies of my family and our guests. Around their throats are black marks like the prints of a hangman’s noose.

houses - Album on Imgur“What have you done?” I cry.

Galinda recoils and holds her arm against herself. Through her fingers, I see pink flesh. I must have burned her when I grabbed her arm. I, too, am not in control of my magic, but I am only thirteen; that is perfectly normal. For her, though, any magic she was born with, she should be able to control. She is, after all, ten years my senior.

“They deserved it,” she mumbles, and I catch a glimpse of the real Galinda, the Galinda who was our servant.

“They did not deserve to be murdered.” Tears collect in my eyes, yet I glare at her with a hatred that feels as if it will overwhelm me.

“They deserved it. They deserved it. They deserved it.” With every iteration, her voice becomes clearer and upon the last, she squares her shoulders and looks down her nose at me. “And you, little vermin, should be dead too.”

Her black magic spirals toward me, but just as it draws near, it splits in two and streams on either side of me. The air stirs at its passing and the curls that Beedy had so carefully twisted about my face are undone. I am undone. Everything is unravelling like the strings of my sisters’ practice tapestries.

Without warning, the billows of black smoke dissipate and Galinda stands across from me panting heavily. Her green eyes glow with a poisonous light that is not of this world. I do not understand this. Papa would know. He could tell me what has possessed her and what this terrible black magic is. But Papa is lying on the ground. Dead.

“Who are you that you dare stand against me,” Galinda hisses, stepping nearer to me. Somehow, I know that me is not Galinda; me is the being from which the magic comes, that ancient and dark thing.

Fear claws at me and causes my fingers to tremble, but I lift my chin and command, “Undo it. Make them come back.”

She laughs a humourless, cold laugh. “It cannot be undone. They are dead.” She comes so near to me that I can hear her whispered words, “So tell me, little beast, why does my magic not touch you.”

The truth is that while my mother was carrying me in her womb, she dreamt that a dark and powerful dragon was looming over me, waiting for a moment of vulnerability in which it might snap me up out of my cradle. It troubled Mama so much that for days after my birth, Papa, Mama, and great-aunt Veralisa combined their magic to create a powerful, life-long protection spell against dark magic. But Galinda does not need to know this. So instead, I say indignantly, “Because our magic is stronger than your stolen, rotten magic.”

Galinda howls in rage and reaches out to wrap her hands around my throat, but yet again, the spell rings true. The sorceress stumbles backward as if she has been struck.

“It won’t let me touch you, but that does not mean you cannot be cursed,” she growls and from her fingers spill threads of black. They swim toward me, whispering and hissing as they draw near.

I protectively wrap my arms about my torso and as I do, the thorns of the rose that is tucked in my sash bite my skin. Despite this, I wrap my fingers around the stem and hold the flower in front of me. This movement focuses my magic and from the bloom, a shimmering mauve magic emanates and encases me in a sphere.

Galinda only smiles and with a motion of her fingers, a strand of her magic plucks the rose from my hand and carries it to its mistress. She delicately takes hold of the rose and examines the bloom. I hold my breath, knowing that her magic is stronger than mine and that I am completely and entirely at her mercy.

“Yes, a rose.” Fingers of magic begin to swirl about the flower and Galinda murmurs an enchantment. It is a complex and dark spell that is more than any one magician could design. My limbs become frozen blocks of ice and though I hear her words, I do not comprehend them. I feel empty and useless. I want to run to Mama and Papa and wake them from their sleep. No, I want to wake from my sleep. This is all a nightmare and soon I will wake from it.

Galinda’s voice rises and her lips move faster. Her magic is depleting, and the effort of continuing is weakening her body. I watch in horrified fascination as grey streaks through her hair, her shoulders stoop, and the hands that hold my cursed rose become gnarled and wrinkly. Just as I see a hint of blood reddening her lips, a flash of light snaps through the room accompanied by a crash like that of shattering glass. Yet, I barely notice the light or the sound or the heaviness that settles upon me; I notice the way the bodies suddenly turn to ashes.

Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror. - Khalil Gibran 💛🖤 #beauty #gold #mirrorI rush to the place where Papa had lain and fall to my knees. My hands sift through the ashes in a desperate search for a tiny spark of life. But there is nothing, not even the faintest hint that the ashes belong to a great sorcerer.

Behind me, Galinda screams in anger or in terror, I do not know.

“You have made me into a hag. My beauty, my youth, you have stolen it from me,” she cries.

Her words awaken a deep, fiery anger and I whirl to face the witch that was once Galinda.

“Your beauty? Your youth?” I scream at her. “You have stolen my family.”

The magic that had been confined inside me by the spell now bursts forth in a wild storm. The doors are flung open and the piles of ashes rise up and rush toward the sorceress. She shrieks in terror and stumbles backward, nearly tripping on her cloak, but she catches herself and hastens from the room.

My magic chases her from the palace and as she staggers through the atrium, I shout, “Away. Away, you beast. I never want to see you again.”

And then suddenly, there is silence. She is gone, hobbling through the forest, and I am left in this monstrous, empty palace.

Nearby, my rose is lying upon the ballroom floor. The petals glow softly in the dark and illuminate a piece of glass the size of a tea saucer. Carefully, I pick it up and look into it. Not just a piece of glass. A mirror.

And suddenly I know.

This is no dream. This is no fairy tale. A great beast has been woken from its slumber and has lifted its ugly, vicious head.

*********

I hope you enjoyed this little peek inside Beautiful Beast! I’m still sending out review copies, so let me know if you’re interested in that. Otherwise, add it to your Goodreads to-read shelf and sit tight for one more week. 🙂

 

 

my writing

Super Exciting Cover Reveal!!!

After many months of writing and editing and more editing, I finally have something solid to show you guys! And I am absolutely thrilled. I have had this idea for a long time, but like most of my stories, it needed a lot of polishing to make it shine. This was hard to do while in school, but bit by bit, I pieced it together. I also cannot neglect to mention the help of my amazing beta readers. They called out my plot holes and my embarrassing grammar mistakes and helped me bring my novel up to performance level.

So without further ado, I am pleased to announce BEAUTIFUL BEAST!!!

496312351-huge 9.jpg

My name is Kalista. They call me the beast.

Kalista has been cursed by a powerful sorceress and is now a prisoner in her own palace. As petals fall from an enchanted rose, her fate and the sorceress’s victory draw nearer. But Kalista refuses to be defeated so easily and uses her own magic to push against the bindings. Yet what if it is not enough and the only way the curse might be shattered is through the help of another?

When Arawn crosses into the beast’s domain, he has one motive: revenge for his brother’s death. But as he draws nearer to the beast and is surrounded by invisible servants, magical banquets, and an enchanted forest, he realizes that this beast is much more complex and much more human than he first thought.

As their paths intertwine, Kalista must risk opening her heart to another, while Arawn must learn to see past his hate and prejudice. Together, they struggle against spells, wolves, and time itself to break the curse. If they fail, Kalista will fall asleep and will never again wake.

*****

There it is folks! What do you think? Interested? If you are, add it your Goodreads to-read lists or even better… I’m looking for readers to review my book. If you’re interested in receiving an ARC just fill out this FORM or write me a note through my Contact Page.

And as alwayss, feel free to simply comment. I’d love to know what you think.

Tata for now | Winnie the pooh friends, Tigger and pooh, Winnie ...

 

my writing

Ahoy Beta Readers!

Let’s celebrate! 

Image result for celebrate gif minions

My novel is finally in a place where I feel like I can push it out into the world. Therefore, I am in search of beta readers. My book is a 73,000 word YA fantasy entitled Beautiful Beast and it is a clean read (meaning no coarse language or sex). At this point, I’m just looking for general feedback. Anything will help. 

If you are interested, please let me know by sending me a message through my contact page and I will send you the first 3 chapters so you can decide if its something you would like to read. Lastly, I prefer to use google docs so you can make comments and suggestions; although, I am definitely open to other formats as well. 

Now without further ado, here is the blurb: 

My name is Kalista. They call me the beast.

Kalista has been cursed by a powerful sorceress and now is a prisoner in her own palace.
As petals fall from an enchanted rose, her fate draws nearer, but she refuses to be defeated so easily. With her own magic, she pushes against the bindings of the curse, yet what if it is not enough and the only way the curse might be shattered is through the help of another?

When Arawn crosses into the beast’s domain, he has one motive: to gain revenge for his brother’s death. But as he draws nearer to the beast and is surrounded by invisible servants, magical banquets, and an enchanted forest, he realizes that this beast is much more complex and much more human than he first thought.

As they collide, Kalista must risk opening her heart to another, while Arawn must learn to see past his hate and prejudice. Together, they struggle against spells, wolves, and time itself to break the curse because if they don’t succeed, the sorceress will win and will continue burning her ruthless path of destruction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And a few pictures from Pinterest since I don’t have a cover yet. 

Collage.jpg

Thank you so much,

Emma 

P.S. I would be open to doing a trade as well, as long as your book is a good fit for me.

P.P.S. If you would rather receive a completed copy in return for a review, just sit tight. A post about ARC’s will hopefully be out before too long.  

Ramblings

Werewolves and my WIP

Werewolves did you say werewolves?

Some of you might know that I’ve been working on my second novel and at draft #3, I thought it was time to push it out into the big wide world. It is a bit different than my first novel – it’s a bit darker I think. And this kind of scares me. What if people hate it? But isn’t this something every writer deals with each time they publish a book? I suppose it is; although, after the first novel there are expectations. Don’t you think?

So anyways, my book is about werewolves. Werewolves?!? You might ask, rather alarmed. Yes, werewolves. I understand your surprise because often when people say “werewolf novel,” you think erotica or horror. (I cringe then gag even as the thought passes my mind) But why does it have to be like that? It doesn’t. I took the idea of shapeshifters, people who transform into wolves, and wove a clean story around it. There are two things I hold to in all of my writing: NO profanity and NO sex. Further, yes, they are werewolves, but they are humans too, and are even believers in God. (although religion does not take foreground.)

But you are probably growing impatient with my ramblings so I will introduce you to my latest project.

* * * * *

Two years ago, Sara Black was nearly killed by her own kind. Werewolves. As an omega, she doesn’t fit into the hierarchy of a pack and if they can’t control her, then they want her dead.   

Sara thinks she is safe in the quiet town of Maybourne, until a hiker claims he was attacked by a wolf. The human authorities write it off as a coyote, but the victim’s description doesn’t match. That’s when werewolf Kieran Warrick shows up in town to investigate. He’s powerful and this makes dangerous. But for some reason, Sara can’t convince herself to leave. Maybe his bizarre claim is true. If it is, that means they are mates and belong together. Forever.    

While they fight and struggle to build love and trust, the wolf attacks continue. But the only wolves Kieran can find are wild ones. Is this just ploy or are there really more werewolves in Maybourne?

* * * * *
Keep your eyes open for the cover reveal!

Coming Soon.jpg

Does this intrigue you? Do you have any questions about it? Anything at all? Then pop by the Contact page and send me a note. I’d love to hear from you!

Also, I will be looking for beta readers and reviewers. What is a beta reader? I’m so glad you asked! Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beta_reader) does a fine job of answering this: A beta reader is a test reader of an unreleased work of literature or other writing who gives feedback from the point of view of an average reader to the author.

If you are interested in beta reading or reviewing an ARC, please send me a note.

 

Have a lovely weekend!

E.J. Hill

my writing, Ramblings

Thank You Thank You

I would just like to quickly send out a huge a THANK YOU to all those who have read and reviewed by book “Ashes of Glass.”

cat, cute, followers, funny, i, kawaii, lol, love, pics, picture, pusheen, thank, thankyou, you, ♥, everydayiscute

Your words mean a lot, not just because it helps get my book out there, but also because feedback will help me in my future writing projects. It was kinda scary to put my work out there for the first time. I spent months writing and editing “Ashes of Glass” and when I hit “publish book,” there was a big part of me that was worried people would hate it. Despite this, my reviewers have been super gracious and have said many wonderful things. Here are a few highlights 🙂 

Reviews

 

Thank you again! And also, I wouldn’t have been able to do it without the strength God has given me. Praise be His name. Soli Deo Gloria.    

E.J. Hill

Tags, Uncategorized

The Music Tag

Hi there everyone! I love music and I saw this tag on a blog called The Perks of Me so I thought I’d give it a go.

Image result for music background

1) Favourite band/musician of the moment?
I think it’s a tie between Dean Brody and Hans Zimmer. I know crazy right?? But for example, if I’m driving in the car, Dean Brody is my go to (his music is fantastic). When studying or writing, though, Hans Zimmer is the best. So I suppose it’s a bit of a complicated question to answer since it depends on where I am and what I’m doing.

2) One band you’ve always come back to..
Hmm, I’m not a huge band person, but I would say Trading Yesterday. I really love their music. Honestly, I don’t know why, but there is something about that gets me every time.

3) Favourite Movie Soundtrack?
YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HARD THIS FOR ME! I absolutely love movie soundtrack. But let’s say it came down to a deserted island and I could only pick one… I would probably go for Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest. Sigh…. Hans Zimmer is my hero, his music is the best.

Image result for pirates of the caribbean dead man's chest

4) What is/are your favourite song(s) of all time?
Love Song Requiem by Trading Yesterday

5) What’s your most embarrassing song on Itunes?
Song…? Well, I have two albums of Disney music… 🙂 Maybe a specific song is the Tigger Song from Winnie the Pooh. (It’s adorable)

Image result for tigger winnie the pooh

6) Top 3 songs played on your ITunes?
1. Love Song Requiem by Trading Yesterday
2. Forgotten City from RiME by Lindsey Stirling
3. The Rains of Castamere by Hawthorne

7) Favourite Concert you’ve attended?
Hits from the Movies by the K-W Symphony Orchestra.

8) Most underrated musician in your opinion?
Peter Hollens. He is super talented, but I think he still struggles to acquire enough funds to support himself.

9) Favourite quote or song lyrics?

Let Her Go by Passenger

Well you only need the light when it’s burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go
Only know you’ve been high when you’re feeling low
Only hate the road when you’re missing home
Only know you love her when you let her go
And you let her go

10) Favourite musical?

Hands down the Phantom of the Opera. I have listened to it 1,000 times and I could listen to it 10,000 times more. It’s just soo… So beautiful.

Image result for the phantom of the opera

So there you have it, a few of my music favorites 🙂 What do you think? What would you answer?

Thanks for reading!

P.S. Check out my book Ashes of Glass.

my writing, Tags, Uncategorized

Author Tag: 10 Questions

Tags are super fun and I stumbled across an author tag so I thought I would give it a go. I did not come up with the tag, it’s from a blog called Fantasy, Mash-Ups, and Mayhem.

I hope you enjoy!

1) WHAT IS THE WORKING TITLE OF YOUR BOOK?

Ashes of Glass

Ashes of Glass Cover.jpg

2) WHERE DID THE IDEA COME FROM FOR YOUR BOOK?

I LOVE Cinderella! It’s one of my favorite fairy tales so when I finally decided that I was going to try my hand at writing an entire novel, I chose to do a retelling of Cinderella. Since then it’s sort of evolved into Cinderella-with-some-major-twists, but hey, the seed was Cinderella.

3) WHAT GENRE DOES YOUR BOOK FALL UNDER?

Inspirational romance or Christian romance works too.

4) WHICH ACTORS WOULD YOU CHOOSE TO PLAY IN YOUR MOVIE RENDITION?

Hmm… Probable Emilie de Ravin as Arella and Henry Cavill as Prince Friederic.

    

What do you think???

5) WHAT IS THE ONE SENTENCE SYNOPSIS OF YOUR BOOK?

:O hmm.

Arella is a penniless servant and Friederic is a prince destined to marry a foreign princess, but their lives become intertwined and they find themselves fighting the disapproval of the nobles, mysterious debts, murder, and a cruel lord willing to do anything in his quest for power.

Haha sorry… That’s a long sentence.

6) WILL YOUR BOOK BE SELF-PUBLISHED OR REPRESENTED BY AN AGENCY?

Self-published. Yep, I took a leap of faith and went solo. Crazy right?

7) HOW LONG DID IT TAKE YOU TO WRITE THE FIRST DRAFT OF YOUR MANUSCRIPT?

I think around 8 months. At first, I wrote a lot, but then I went through a little dry period. When I picked it up again, I started writing an average of 1,000-2,000 words per day so that made things gallop along at a nice pace.

8) WHAT OTHER BOOKS WOULD YOU COMPARE THIS STORY TO?

“Captive Maiden” by Melanie Dickerson or “Cinderella and the Colonel” by KM Shea.

9) WHO OR WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO WRITE THE BOOK?

My love for stories and writing. I simply enjoy creating stories and I wanted to be able to share one in its entirety.

10) WHAT ELSE ABOUT YOUR BOOK MIGHT PIQUE THE READER’S INTEREST?

Overall, it has a handful of alterations from the traditional Cinderella retelling. However, it is also a clean read. I don’t really agree with profanity or inappropriateness in books so my writing obviously doesn’t contain it – people can read it without having to cringe at certain parts.

 

Are you an author? What would you answer to these questions? Or do you have any questions about my book or myself? I’d be more than happy to answer them. 😀

Also…. find out more about my book here, or oooor read the PROLOGUE.

It’s on Amazon too!!!

Thanks for reading!

my writing, Ramblings

My Little Letter to the Readers

This little letter appears at the beginning of my book and I put it there because I really felt I needed to explain a little and also warn people that it’s not a perfect book – it was my first try so I am sure there are lots of mistakes hiding in the shadows between the front and back cover. But you know, a lot of it comes down to me simply holding a physical copy of my book because that is a dream come true!

 

Dear Readers,

I know few people rarely read these little blurbs from the author (I don’t usually), but I thought that I could not leave it out, there are some things I feel as if I need to say.

First off, thank you for picking up my book, it’s an honor to have ensnared your interest. I hope you like my story. When I began writing it at the end of high school, I only knew that I wanted to write a novel in its entirety, not just the first half. Since then, I have learned many things, how to commit to writing the end, how to cut mercilessly, how to create a cover, how to format a book, and the list could go on. Now with all that said, other than me, no one has read or edited this novel so yes, there are going to be flaws. There will probably be more mistakes than I even care to admit, but hey, I got it done, I published it all by myself. So alongside a cup of embarrassment, there will be a delicious chocolate chip cookie of pride.

I hope my faults do not ruin the story for you, I truly hope you enjoy it.

God bless you,

Emma Hill

 

If you’re interested, you can read the prologue here for free and if you think maybe, possibly, there’s a slight chance you’d like to read the rest of the book…. you can find it on Amazon.com as a paperback or e-book.