Eric Lindstrom's Blog
December 21, 2019
Now in Hebrew, מופלא באופן טרגי !
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The Hebrew translation of A Tragic Kind of Wonderful, in paperback, has the title, Tragically Wonderful.
Find it online at the Yediot Aharonot Books website: HERE.
October 1, 2019
Fall 2019 YA Scavenger Hunt!
Welcome to the YA Scavenger Hunt!
This bi-annual event was first organized by author Colleen Houck to give readers a chance to gain access to bonus material from their favorite authors…and a chance to win some awesome prizes in a scavenger hunt!
You not only get access to bonus content from each author, you also get a clue for the hunt. Add up the clues and you can enter for our prize–one lucky winner will receive one book from every author on my team! But play fast: this contest will only be online till Sunday!
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Go to the YA Scavenger Hunt page to find out all about the hunt. There are FOUR contests going on simultaneously, and you can enter one or all!
I’m on the PURPLE TEAM but there are also teams of three other colors. Enter them all to win different sets of books!
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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.
HOW TO PLAY
Directions: Somewhere below, you’ll notice that I’ve listed my secret number. Collect the secret numbers of all the authors on the PURPLE TEAM, and then add them up.
Entry Form: Once you’ve added up all the numbers, make sure you fill out the form here to officially qualify for the grand prize. Only entries that have the correct number will qualify.
Rules: Open internationally, 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 6th, at noon Pacific Time. Entries sent without the correct number or without contact information will not be considered.
HOSTED AUTHOR!
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Today, I am hosting Abigail Johnson for the YA Scavenger Hunt!
Abigail Johnson was born in Pennsylvania. When she was twelve, her family traded in snowstorms for year-round summers and moved to Arizona. Abigail chronicled the entire cross-country road trip in a purple spiral-bound notebook that she still has, and has been writing ever since. She became a tetraplegic after breaking her neck in a car accident when she was seventeen, but hasn’t let that stop her from bodysurfing in Mexico, writing and directing a high-school production of Cinderella, and becoming a published author. Visit Abigail online at abigailjohnsonbooks.com and follow her on Twitter, @AbigailsWriting.
This week, I’m happy to present Abigail’s novel, EVERY OTHER WEEKEND.
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Adam Moynihan’s life used to be awesome. Straight As, close friends and a home life so perfect that it could have been a TV show straight out of the 50s. Then his oldest brother died. Now his fun-loving mom cries constantly, he and his remaining brother can’t talk without fighting, and the father he always admired proved himself a coward by moving out when they needed him most.
Jolene Timber’s life is nothing like the movies she loves–not the happy ones anyway. As an aspiring director, she should know, because she’s been reimagining her life as a film ever since she was a kid. With her divorced parents at each others throats and using her as a pawn, no amount of mental re-editing will give her the love she’s starving for.
Forced to spend every other weekend in the same apartment building, the boy who thinks forgiveness makes him weak and the girl who thinks love is for fools begin an unlikely friendship. The weekends he dreaded and she endured soon become the best part of their lives. But when one’s life begins to mend while the other’s spirals out of control, they realize that falling in love while surrounded by its demise means nothing is ever guaranteed.
Learn more about Abigail and her books at abigailjohnsonbooks.com or buy her book HERE.
BONUS CONTENT
Here is what Abigail says about her bonus content:
“One of my protagonists in my upcoming Contemporary YA, EVERY OTHER WEEKEND, is an aspiring director and she is obsessed with movies specifically ones from the ’80s and ’90s because, as she puts it, “they showed me a time before my parents ever met and lost their minds long enough to get married and have me. You know, the good old days.” I had a blast dropping in references and quotes to a ton of movies throughout the book and here are just a few:
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And now back to the hunt…
To enter the contest for a chance to win books by Abigail Johnson, me, and lots more, you need to know that my secret number is 2! Add up all the favorite numbers of the authors on the PURPLE TEAM and you’ll have the secret code to enter for the grand prize!
CONTINUE THE HUNT
To keep going on the hunt, you need to check out the next author, Aprilynne Pike, HERE.
Like me on Facebook EricLindstromBooks
Follow me on Twitter @EricLindstrom
Tweet #YASH
Don’t worry, these links above and below open new windows and won’t detour your hunt…and leave a comment below before you go!
May 6, 2019
Now in Portuguese, Se eu não te vir primeiro
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The Portuguese translation of
Not If I See You First is out!
Find it online at the Rocco Jovens Leitores website: HERE.
Google+
April 2, 2019
Spring 2019 YA Scavenger Hunt!
Welcome to the YA Scavenger Hunt!
This bi-annual event was first organized by author Colleen Houck to give readers a chance to gain access to bonus material from their favorite authors…and a chance to win some awesome prizes in a scavenger hunt!
You not only get access to bonus content from each author, you also get a clue for the hunt. Add up the clues and you can enter for our prize–one lucky winner will receive one book from every author on my team! But play fast: this contest will only be online till Sunday!
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Go to the YA Scavenger Hunt page to find out all about the hunt. There are FIVE contests going on simultaneously, and you can enter one or all!
I’m on the RED TEAM but there are also teams of four other colors. Enter them all to win different sets of books!
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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.
HOW TO PLAY
Directions: Somewhere below, you’ll notice that I’ve listed my secret number. Collect the secret numbers of all the authors on the RED TEAM, and then add them up.
Entry Form: Once you’ve added up all the numbers, make sure you fill out the form here to officially qualify for the grand prize. Only entries that have the correct number will qualify.
Rules: Open internationally, 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 7th, at noon Pacific Time. Entries sent without the correct number or without contact information will not be considered.
HOSTED AUTHOR!
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Today, I am hosting Brendan Reichs for the YA Scavenger Hunt!
Brendan Reichs was born and raised in Charlotte, North Carolina. After three long years working as a litigation attorney, he abandoned the trade to write full-time. He is the author of The Project Nemesis series, coauthor of the six-volume Virals series, and The Darkdeep series he is writing with his best friend Ally Condie. Brendan is also a member of the executive board for both the YALLFEST and YALLWEST literary festivals. He lives in Charlotte with his wife, son, daughter, and a herd of animals that tear up everything. Brendan plans to continue writing until they drag him kicking and screaming from his desk.
This week, I’m happy to present CHRYSALIS, the stunning finale of the Project Nemesis trilogy from New York Times bestselling author Brendan Reichs.
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The 64 members of Fire Lake’s sophomore class have managed to survive the first two phases of the Program–and each other. Now, they alone have emerged into the dawn of a new era on Earth, into a Fire Lake valley that’s full of otherworldly dangers and challenges. Although staying alive in this broken world should force Min, Noah, Tack, and the others to form new alliances, old feuds die hard, and the brutality of the earlier Program phases cannot be forgotten. But being a team isn’t easy for the sophomores, and when they discover that they may not be alone on the planet after all, they’ll have to decide if they’re going to work together . . . or die together.
Learn more about Brendan and his books at brendanreichs.com or buy his book HERE.
BONUS CONTENT
Check out Brendan’s Inspiration Board for Project Nemesis, the series that’s reaching its climax in his latest book, CHRYSALIS! Below is the invite link to his Pinterest board. Don’t worry–it opens to a new tab so you won’t lose your place in the hunt!
PROJECT NEMESIS Inspiration Board
And now back to the hunt…
To enter the contest for a chance to win books by Brendan Reichs, me, and lots more, you need to know that my secret number is 7! Add up all the favorite numbers of the authors on the RED TEAM and you’ll have the secret code to enter for the grand prize!
CONTINUE THE HUNT
To keep going on the hunt, you need to check out the next author, Courtney Brandt (Ann Benjamin), HERE.
Like me on Facebook EricLindstromBooks
Follow me on Twitter @Eric_Lindstrom
Tweet #YASH
Don’t worry, these links above and below open new windows and won’t detour your hunt…and leave a comment below before you go!
Google+
October 2, 2018
Fall 2018 YA Scavenger Hunt!
Welcome to the YA Scavenger Hunt!
This bi-annual event was first organized by author Colleen Houck to give readers a chance to gain access to bonus material from their favorite authors…and a chance to win some awesome prizes in a scavenger hunt!
You not only get access to bonus content from each author, you also get a clue for the hunt. Add up the clues and you can enter for our prize–one lucky winner will receive one book from every author on my team! But play fast: this contest will only be online till Sunday!
[image error]
Go to the YA Scavenger Hunt page to find out all about the hunt. There are SEVEN contests going on simultaneously, and you can enter one or all!
I’m on the PURPLE TEAM but there are also teams of six other colors. Enter them all to win different sets of books!
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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.
HOW TO PLAY
Directions: Somewhere below, you’ll notice that I’ve listed my secret number. Collect the secret numbers of all the authors on the PURPLE TEAM, and then add them up.
Entry Form: Once you’ve added up all the numbers, make sure you fill out the form here to officially qualify for the grand prize. Only entries that have the correct number will qualify.
Rules: Open internationally, 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 7th, at noon Pacific Time. Entries sent without the correct number or without contact information will not be considered.
HOSTED AUTHOR!
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Today, I am hosting C.J. Redwine for the YA Scavenger Hunt! C.J. is a New York Times bestselling author of YA fantasy novels, including the Ravenspire series of fairytale retellings and the Defiance trilogy. She’s still waiting for her letter from Hogwart’s. Currently, she lives in Nashville with her husband, five children, three pets, and a wardrobe that stubbornly refuses to lead to Narnia, no matter how many times she tries.
This week, C.J. is showcasing her novel, THE TRAITOR PRINCE.
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Javan Najafai, crown prince of Akram, has spent the last ten years at an elite boarding school, far away from his kingdom. But his eagerly awaited return home is cut short when a mysterious imposter takes his place—and no one believes Javan is the true prince.
After barely escaping the imposter’s assassins, Javan is thrown into Maqbara, the kingdom’s most dangerous prison. The only way to gain an audience with the king–and reveal Javan’s identity–is to fight in Maqbara’s yearly tournament. But winning is much harder than acing competitions at school, and soon Javan finds himself beset not just by the terrifying creatures in the arena, but also a band of prisoners allied against him, and even the warden herself.
The only person who can help him is Sajda, who has been enslaved by Maqbara’s warden since she was a child, and whose guarded demeanor and powerful right hook keep the prisoners in check. Working with Sajda might be the only way Javan can escape alive—but she has dangerous secrets.
Together, Javan and Sajda have to outwit the vicious warden, outfight the deadly creatures, and outlast the murderous prisoners intent on killing Javan. If they fail, they’ll be trapped in Maqbara for good—and the secret Sajda’s been hiding will bury them both.
Learn more about C.J. and her books at cjredwine.com or buy her book HERE.
BONUS CONTENT
Here is an excerpt from THE TRAITOR PRINCE:
Everything had gone according to plan until the headmaster decided to block the short cut with a dragon.
The beast exhaled, a long, rasping growl of breath that shivered through the air and sent smoke curling toward the thick gray clouds that scudded across the sky.
Javan forced himself to breathe as well. Fear out. Courage in.
This was just another test. Another way to make sure that only the truly deserving wore the crimson sash at tomorrow’s commencement ceremony.
Doubtless there was another equally daunting obstacle blocking the others on the main path. Javan shoved all thoughts of his friends and fellow competitors from his mind and focused on the problem of getting past the beast.
The dragon beat its wings, slowly at first, and then shale began sliding down the hill as the beast picked up speed. Every flap of its wings was a leathery slap of sound that sent a chill over Javan’s skin.
He had no weapons. They were forbidden between tasks.
He had no allies. He’d left them behind on the main road.
He had nothing but his instincts and his brain.
That didn’t seem like enough to best a dragon the size of a small house, but the headmaster wouldn’t have allowed it to be here if he didn’t believe his students already had the skills to beat it.
Fear out.
Courage in.
Javan looked away from the dragon to quickly scan the area, forcing himself to catalogue his options as the dragon’s talons scraped the rocky precipice, sending chunks of rock tumbling past the prince.
He needed a weapon. He needed shelter.
He needed a way through the hills to the fifth task before one of his classmates got to the sash first.
His list of options was pitifully short. There was plenty of shale, which was less than useless. There were rocks ranging from pebbles to ones the size of a carriage. There was the hill in front of him, but no caves. No tunnels that could offer safety while keeping the dragon at bay. And there was Javan himself with his tunic, his boots, his pants, and his belt.
His belt.
The dragon rose, blocking the pale sun, its immense shadow swallowing Javan whole.
The prince was out of time. Whipping off his tunic, he leaned down and scraped a hand through the shale until he found a piece sharp enough to cut his skin. He scooped it up along with a few rocks the size of his fist. The dragon’s roar shattered the air above him, and Javan’s heart thudded as he dumped the rocks onto the center of his tunic, tied the sleeves into a makeshift knapsack, and then scrambled for the incline that led to the hill’s precipice.
Doubtless the dragon would try to block Javan. He’d just have to find a way to distract it or fend it off long enough to get through the pass.
The dragon dove for him, the air whistling past its body as fire poured from its mouth.
Yl’ Haliq be merciful, the dragon was trying to burn him.
Javan leaped to the side, crashing onto the shale as the fire seared his left arm. The dragon slammed into the ground beside him, sending a wave of rocks skidding down the rest of the hill.
Terror lanced Javan, bold and bright. Fragments of prayer tumbled from his lips as he reached for his tunic full of shale with shaking fingers. The beast wasn’t trying to stop Javan. It was trying to kill him.
Javan lunged forward, grabbing sharp outcroppings to haul himself over the slippery ground, his breath sobbing in his lungs as he whispered a prayer for deliverance.
The outcroppings sliced into his hands, and soon his palms were slick with blood. The dragon’s wings swept the air, and Javan had to brace himself to keep from being flattened by the gusts of wind that hit him.
As the dragon rose into the air once more, Javan forced himself to reach. To climb.
To hurry.
The precipice was three body lengths away.
The dragon was circling overhead, smoke pouring from its nostrils.
“Yl’ Haliq, save your faithful servant,” Javan breathed as he dug deep for more speed. More strength. As he tried to push the blinding terror into the corner of his mind so he could think.
The dragon’s roar thundered as Javan’s bloody hands closed over the spiny ridge of the hill. The prince pulled his legs under his chest, planted his boots against the shifting shale beneath him, and leaped.
Fire exploded against the side of the hill as Javan cleared the ridge and landed on the narrow flat strip of the hill’s precipice. Throwing his makeshift knapsack to the ground, the prince tore the knot loose and grabbed the sharp piece of shale. Four quick slices and he ripped a patch of fabric the size of his hand from the bottom of his tunic.
The dragon dove toward him. Javan threw himself forward, skidding on his hands and knees as the beast’s talons dug into the ground leaving long gashes where the prince had been crouched.
Javan’s hands shook as he flattened the square of fabric and gouged a slim tear into two opposite sides of the patch. Above him, the dragon flew into the air and began circling. The prince grabbed the braided cord of his belt, unwound it from his waist, and shoved one end through the tear in the right side of the patch. The dragon’s roar shook the ground.
Fear wrapped around Javan’s chest and squeezed. Hastily pushing the end of his belt through the other tear, he centered the patch in the middle of the corded rope while the dragon dove.
This time, Javan didn’t move fast enough. The beast’s great leathery wing collided with the prince and sent him spinning toward the edge of the precipice. Javan dug into the ground with his elbows and feet, his hands still clutching the slingshot he’d fashioned.
The beast flew into the air and circled back.
Javan jumped to his feet and dove toward the cache of rocks sitting in the middle of his ruined tunic.
Smoke gushed from the dragon’s mouth and hurtled toward the prince with every flap of the creature’s wings.
Javan’s hand closed around a rock, and he centered it in the patch of tunic even as he spun to face the dragon’s next assault.
There would be no time to dive out of the way if he missed.
The dragon roared.
Javan pulled the rock back with one hand until the cord of his rope belt was taut.
With an enormous whoosh of smoky air, the beast locked eyes on the prince and came straight toward him.
He was going to die.
The words chased each other inside his head as his stomach dropped and his knees shook. He was going to die, and he’d never been to a tavern or kissed a girl or seen pride in his father’s eyes.
Terror threatened to turn Javan’s limbs to stone as the dragon closed in, and he forced himself to breathe.
Fear out.
Courage in.
Flames gathered in the back of the dragon’s throat.
Javan leaned his weight onto his back leg, stared at the space between the dragon’s eyes, and let the rock fly as fire began pouring from the beast’s mouth.
The flames rushed for Javan as the rock sailed through them and struck the dragon’s left eye.
With a guttural cry, the dragon wheeled away, clawing at its face with its front talons.
Javan lunged forward, ducking beneath the wave of fire and wincing as the heat seared the bare skin of his back. Grabbing another rock, he readied it in the slingshot even as he hurtled over the far edge of the precipice and began sprinting down the incline and toward the path that wound through the next cluster of craggy hills.
For a moment, he thought the dragon wouldn’t follow. It hung in the sky, wings pushing at the air while it clawed at its injured eye. Javan focused on the slim space between the third and fourth hills in front of him and reached deep for another burst of speed. His boots crushed the shale beneath him as he closed in on his way out.
Behind him, the dragon roared. Javan risked a glance over his shoulder and his mouth went dry at the light of blind rage that glowed in the dragon’s uninjured eye. The beast snarled and dove for him.
“Yl’ Haliq be merciful,” Javan breathed as he raced toward the slice of light that glowed between the hills.
He couldn’t stop. Couldn’t turn around and aim the rock at the dragon. One misstep, one lost second of forward momentum, and he wouldn’t be able to outrun the fiery death that was closing in on him.
Heat swept his back as the dragon sent a fireball toward him. Javan cried out in pain, but didn’t stop. Reaching the space between the hills, he abandoned the slingshot, grabbed both sides of the rocky outcrop and swung his body through. Without pausing, he hurtled down the steep incline, sending showers of rocks onto the small grass meadow at the base of the hill.
Carved wooden stakes marked the four corners of the meadow, and at its center was a raised stone platform the size of a table that could seat twenty. The academy’s coat of arms was carved into the front of the platform. A small selection of weapons was arranged on the left of the dais, and on the right stood the headmaster, the crimson sash in his hands. His back was to Javan, his focus on the main road where in the distance the three students Javan had left behind on the archery grounds were running toward the meadow.
“Weapon!” Javan yelled as his boots hit the grass.
The headmaster pivoted, his mouth an O of surprise as behind Javan, the dragon crashed into the space between the hills and exploded through it in a hail of dust and debris. The sash fluttered to the ground as the older man lunged for the other side of the platform and grabbed a bow and quiver.
Javan stumbled as he crossed the meadow, the painful burns along his arm and back searing into his nerves, and the headmaster yelled, “Catch!”
The bow and the quiver flew through the air toward the prince. He scrambled to his feet and caught them as the headmaster hefted a longsword and began running toward Javan.
Whirling to face the dragon, Javan planted his feet, nocked an arrow, and took a breath as he sighted the weapon on the incoming beast. Its scales were impenetrable. He’d have to hit it in the eye again.
The headmaster reached his side as Javan drew back the bow, prayed he’d calculated wind speed and velocity correctly, and let the arrow fly.
To enter the contest for a chance to win books by C.J. Redwine, me, and lots more, you need to know that my secret number is 16! Add up all the favorite numbers of the authors on the PURPLE TEAM and you’ll have the secret code to enter for the grand prize!
CONTINUE THE HUNT
To keep going on the hunt, you need to check out the next author, Chelsea Pitcher, HERE.
Like me on Facebook EricLindstromBooks
Follow me on Twitter @Eric_Lindstrom
Tweet #YASH
Don’t worry, these links above and below open new windows and won’t detour your hunt…and leave a comment below before you go!
Google+
The post Fall 2018 YA Scavenger Hunt! appeared first on Eric Lindstrom Books.
April 14, 2018
Now in Indonesian, Not If I See You First!
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The Indonesian translation of
Not If I See You First is out now, by Penerbit Spring!
To buy a copy, go HERE.
Google+
The post Now in Indonesian, Not If I See You First! appeared first on Eric Lindstrom Books.
April 3, 2018
Spring 2018 YA Scavenger Hunt!
Welcome to the YA Scavenger Hunt!
This bi-annual event was first organized by author Colleen Houck to give readers a chance to gain access to exclusive bonus material from their favorite authors…and a chance to win some awesome prizes in a scavenger hunt!
You not only get access to exclusive content from each author, you also get a clue for the hunt. Add up the clues and you can enter for our prize–one lucky winner will receive one book from every author on my team! But play fast: this contest (and all the exclusive bonus material) will only be online till Sunday!
[image error]
Go to the YA Scavenger Hunt page to find out all about the hunt. There are SIX contests going on simultaneously, and you can enter one or all!
I’m on the PURPLE TEAM but there are also teams of five other colors. Enter them all to win different sets of books!
[image error]
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.
HOW TO PLAY
Directions: Somewhere below, you’ll notice that I’ve listed my secret number. Collect the secret numbers of all the authors on the PURPLE TEAM, and then add them up.
Entry Form: Once you’ve added up all the numbers, make sure you fill out the form here to officially qualify for the grand prize. Only entries that have the correct number will qualify.
Rules: Open internationally, 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 8th, at noon Pacific Time. Entries sent without the correct number or without contact information will not be considered.
HOSTED AUTHOR!
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Today, I am hosting Rebecca Hahn for the YA Scavenger Hunt! Rebecca Hahn is the author of the young adult fantasy novels A CREATURE OF MOONLIGHT (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Books for Young Readers, 2014) and THE SHADOW BEHIND THE STARS (Atheneum Books for Young Readers, 2015). She earned her bachelor’s degree in English at Carleton College in Northfield, Minnesota, and worked for two years as an editorial assistant at Henry Holt Books for Young Readers in New York City, as she wrote her first novel on the side. She now lives in the sunshine-filled eastern edge of the San Francisco Bay area.
This week, Rebecca is showcasing her novel, THE SHADOW BEHIND THE STARS.
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Chloe and her sisters have lived on their isolated Greek island for centuries, longer than any mortal can remember. They spin, measure, and slice the countless golden threads of human lives. Chloe’s are the fingers that choose the wool, that form the thread, that begin it. She is as young as a girl, and she has lived since the stars were born.
She and her sisters are the three Fates, and they have stayed separate for good reason: it is dangerous for them to become involved with the humans whose lives they shape. So when a beautiful girl named Aglaia shows up on their doorstep, Chloe tries to make sure her sisters don’t become attached. But in seeking to protect them, she discovers the dark power of Aglaia’s destiny. As the human girl’s path unwinds, Chloe finds herself pulled inextricably along—toward mortal pain, mortal love, and a fate that could unravel the world.
Learn more about Rebecca and her books at rebeccahahnbooks.com or buy her book HERE.
EXCLUSIVE CONTENT
This is a deleted scene from THE SHADOW BEHIND THE STARS. The three Fates are in disguise, journeying through the mortal world as they search for the human girl Aglaia, who has recently fled their island. The youngest Fate, Chloe, narrates:
We were up late in our room, working with our thread, when we heard something on the first floor of the inn that should not have been there. We paused: Xinot held up a hand; Serena narrowed her eyes. There are not many who could escape our notice, even in the deep of such a moonless night. We heard him, and we knew from the sounds of his movements just exactly what he was doing.
It was a thief. He was sneaking about, searching the public rooms downstairs for coin or luggage. It was a pointless attempt. Travelers would keep their belongings in their rooms; any valuables would be tucked in bed with them. And no innkeeper would store coin out in the open, where any lodger could find it. His treasures would be upstairs as well, and soon enough the thief was climbing to the second floor, feet sliding for the unused bits of the slats, which would not creak.
He was not practiced, for they creaked anyway.
Serena raised her eyebrows at Xinot, who shook her head. There was nothing we could do. I felt a heat running through my skin; the old man who’d taken our pay last night had smiled sweetly at us, and had watched as we entered our room, to make sure it would suit. This thief might not be experienced, but that did not mean he wouldn’t get away with it.
I murmured, “We could wake the others. It’s what a human would do.”
“A human,” came Xinot’s reply, “wouldn’t have heard a thing.”
I glowered at her. She was perched at the end of our bed, her scissors held in one hand, blades pointed up, and the thread in another. It stretched across to Serena, who was seated on the window ledge, and then curled toward me, in the room’s one chair before the fire, my spindle at my feet.
Xinot’s words trembled, flickering along it toward me as she spoke: “We do not meddle in human affairs.”
“We meddled in Aglaia’s.”
It was Serena who said, in a voice so flat it silenced me, “Yes, Chloe, we did. And you know how much good that did.”
We listened as the thief made his way to each of the guest rooms, snatching up discarded clothes, looking about for any unguarded trinkets. He did not find much, but our fellow travelers didn’t have much more. The heat grew in me. Xinot held my gaze, and I was pinned to my chair. There wasn’t a way to turn from Xinot when she wasn’t in the mood to let you.
We thought that he would miss our room completely. It was at the end of one hall, and he had started with the room next door, and gone in the opposite direction, toward the innkeeper’s family rooms at the other end of the building.
He must have remembered it, though, at the last moment, because he hesitated, his hand on the door to the innkeeper’s bedroom, and then he turned and walked back down the hall.
We listened to him come.
“Xinot,” I muttered, “we must convince him to give those belongings back. Serena, they need our protection. No one else is awake. It’s up to us.”
“Chloe,” Serena said, “shut up.”
I was still staring, wondering if I could have heard that right, when the door to our room opened.
A few steps toward us, and the thief froze. There were only coals in our fireplace, and no moon, but the glow of the thread was enough. It would have been enough even if there had been no silent women to hold it. That golden gleam promised a thousand unknown things.
There may have been less mystery in the humans of this world than the one we had known long ago. That didn’t mean such a scene wouldn’t remind them of what they had forgotten. That didn’t mean our thief wouldn’t know at once that here was a trio he had no wish to anger, that much more might happen to him now than simply getting caught.
He was a short, light-haired fellow. He was young; his beard was not yet full. He did not look underfed, so maybe this had been his idea of a joke, or maybe there was an elegant wife at home who relied on these late-night excursions for clothes and baubles.
We did not say a thing; we didn’t have to. He laid his bundle of gatherings at his feet. He backed away from it, his head bowed down but his eyes turned up to watch us, swiveling back and forth. He was not quite sure enough or pretty enough to flatter me, but still I felt a twinge of age-old pleasure at him knowing my strength, my beauty. At him fearing it.
He mouthed one word before he slipped back through our door; we could not hear it, but we saw its shape: Please. Please do not hurt me, maybe, or please do not tell. Then he was gone, though he left our door open.
His bundle sat, benign and lumpy, right in the middle of our floor. What could we tell, if we were to tell? That we were up late this night, and did not hear the thief, and did not scream when he opened our door? That we convinced him of the error of his ways, so that he left his gainings with us, and that we let him go without raising the household to stop him? Or the truth—that we so terrified the poor mortal man with our magic thread that we did not even need to ask?
Serena slipped from her window shelf and walked over to the bundle, carrying the thread in one hand. She prodded the thief’s bag with a foot. It clinked.
“Perhaps,” she said, “we could return these to their owners.”
“Do we know their owners?” I said. We had heard him gathering them from their various rooms, but I could not differentiate the tinkle of an earring from the small clatter of coins.
“The thief was lucky to wake no one,” said Xinot. “Three of us, blundering about in the dark…”
I sighed. We would scarcely blunder, and the dark would cause us no problems. But as silently as we moved, and as unnoticed as we had gone among the humans, we did not belong in this world. A sleeping mortal might sense if one of us sisters appeared in his room. A sleeping mortal was closer, after all, to our mysteries.
It wasn’t as though we would have been in any danger. What could they do to us? Still, if we were recognized, after all our efforts, and if Aglaia heard, or if we were temporarily waylaid on our path—it was simpler to avoid such possibilities.
We went back to our work; there were hours until sunrise yet. Before the inn began to stir, even before the innkeeper’s wife went down to light the fires, we packed our things and brought the thief’s bundle to the dining area, where it would be seen first thing in the morning. We slid through the inn’s front door, one cloaked woman, and then another, and then one more, and we were back on our path as the fields edged into gray and then green, walking quickly toward the sun’s first song.
To enter the contest for a chance to win books by Rebecca Hahn, me, and lots more, you need to know that my secret number is 8! Add up all the favorite numbers of the authors on the purple team and you’ll have the secret code to enter for the grand prize!
CONTINUE THE HUNT
To keep going on the hunt, you need to check out the next author, Sophie Davis, HERE.
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January 31, 2018
Prix Handi-Livres 2017 : Meilleur Livre Jeunesse Adolescent
Not If I See You First, published in French by Éditions Nathan with the wonderful title, Dis-moi si tu souris (Tell Me If You Smile), won Best Teen Youth Book 2017 from Fonds Handicap & Société! [image error]
I’m greatly honored and grateful, and not just for the award, but for the wonderful words Danièle Hugues of the jury spoke about Parker’s story — thank you!
Here is a clip of the Best Teen Book segment of the awards ceremony.
To check out the announcement, go HERE.
And for more information about the work of Fonds Handicap & Société, see their website, HERE.
January 22, 2018
Silicon Valley Reads 2018!
Not If I See You First is the official Teen Companion Book for Silicon Valley Reads 2018!
From the SVR2018 Website:
“Silicon Valley Reads is an annual community program that selects books focused on a contemporary theme and offers free events throughout Santa Clara County to engage the public in reading, thinking and discussing the topic. Our goals are to encourage the love of reading and learning and to have a welcoming forum where our diverse community can come together to share different perspectives.”
This year’s theme: “No Matter What: Caring, Coping, Compassion.”
Throughout February and March, I’ll be speaking with students in Santa Clara County classrooms, book clubs, and conducting a teen writers workshop.
To learn more about Silicon Valley Reads 2018 and its mission visit the website, HERE.
To learn more about the SVR 2018 Companion books, go HERE.
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December 15, 2017
Now in Dutch, Mijn mooiste herinnering eindigt hier
[image error]
The Dutch translation of A Tragic Kind Of Wonderful is called, My Best Memory Ends Here.
Find it online at the Gottmer website: HERE.
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![[image error]](https://i1.wp.com/ericlindstrombooks.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/PrixHandi-Livres2017.jpeg){kind=link}