BOOK DESCRIPTION:
Erin
Sellers, an eighteen-year-old high school senior, hates teen drinking. She and
her three friends – Bill, her guy, Shari and Jake - decide to use Twitter to
stop a group, the Kewl Krew, from using their high school as the local bar. But
the members of this group are just as determined to stop anyone from messing up
their fun. Despite veiled threats to her safety, Erin continues her crusade.
To
make matters worse for her, the stress of school and extra curricular work
mounts and suddenly, shockingly, booze-fuelled tragedy strikes. Erin is now
under greater pressure as she spends all hours to produce a mural and other
work to commemorate the death of a teen friend. Bill, Jake and Shari support
her in all this...
But
more tragedy lurks nearby… until it’s time to softly say goodbye.
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THE AUTHOR:
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THE EXCERPT!!
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LINKS:
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THE AUTHOR:
AUTHOR BIO:
I
am happily married to a man I met while in the Air Force. We recently
celebrated our 18 years of marriage. Our teen, the youngest of 8, keeps us on
our toes with his band activities. Writing is something I've done since I was
very young. At first, it was in a diary and then I poured all my energies into
English compositions, earning praise from my Advanced Composition teacher in
high school for an extremely visual project. While in the Air Force, I placed
second in the Freedoms Foundation at Valley Forge's annual contest and from
then on, was hooked. However, the reality of a military career and raising
children forced me to put off attempting publication until my husband and I
moved to Georgia. It was after the birth of our now teen that I began taking
courses through The Institute of Children's Literature, Long Ridge Writer's
Group, and Writers Digest in an effort to make my life's dream come true.
We
live in Northwest Georgia, in a small town, where I write Romance, Westerns,
Young Adult, and Middle Grade stories, both short and book length. More than a
dozen of my short stories have appeared in magazines such as Listen Magazine,
Brio, and The Pink Chameleon website. I also have short stories in anthologies,
Passionate Hearts Anthology, Mystery Times Ten, The Best of Frontier Tales,
Vol. I, and Mystery Times Nine. My western stories have garnered interest by
avid readers and appear on The Western Online and Frontier Tales.
My
work appears under the pen names of KC Sprayberry and Kathi Sprayberry. Softly
Say Goodbye, a young adult novel, was my NaNoWriMo winning project for 2010.
This story was inspired by a quote from a song and hearing of an auto wreck
involving teens and drinking.
AUTHOR LINKS:
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THE EXCERPT!!
Chapter
One
The
sound of liquid gurgling and a thunk distracts me as my art teacher, Mr. Janks,
says he has a major announcement. An overwhelming urge prods me to confront the
offender, but she'll deny my accusation, even though everyone in the vicinity
knows she just chugged some vodka.
Do
it! My hands clench into fists. Tell Laura to quit!
High
school drunks totally piss me off. The urge to deal with the offender overcomes
common sense. I start to turn around to give her a piece of my mind but stare
in shock at my teacher instead.
A
week before Valentine's Day, the most romantic day of the year, I want to throw
my books into the nearest trashcan and run until my legs give out. Here I am,
sitting in my art class, and Mr. Janks announces we have to do a term project
but not just any term project. Oh no! We have to develop a major project like
cleaning up the Rec Center's playground and painting a mural on the huge
cylinders kids climb all over. Worse, I swear I heard something about a video.
Who has time to do all that and a video?
“Tell
me Mr. J didn't say that,” I cry.
The
now protesting students echo my feelings. The new issue drives all other
thoughts out of my head. Oh yeah, I heard right, and the timing is rotten.
Tuck
Amstead rolls his eyes and glances at me. “Total pits, Erin.”
“Maybe
we heard wrong?” I offer.
“Mr.
Janks, we can't possibly do this,” Tiana Bolton protests. “It'll…it'll… You're
asking us to give up all of our free time and ignore studying for our EOCs. And
you want us to show you what we did on the same day we take the EOCs!”
Boy,
does she have that right. EOCs, end of course exams, make up a significant
portion of our final grade. To top it off, we also have to take the state's
graduation test — a mind-numbing horror challenging us to remember every single
thing we have ever learned since our very first day at Landry High School. The
idea of planning and executing a major art project due at the same as those
dreaded tests gives me the worst scary feeling of my life.
“Why
can't you do like everyone else?” I ask. “This is worse than impossible.”
“This
is my EOC, Erin.” Mr. Janks shakes his head. “You saw the syllabus when you
started the class last fall.” He stares at each student, all twenty of us, for
a heartbeat. “All of you signed the syllabus, and so did your parents. No
excuses. Now—”
“But
we have to do all our other studying,” Tiana cries, interrupting him. “When
will we have time for your project?”
Slender,
sweet, and conflicted, Tiana's cap of brandy brown hair frames her porcelain
complexion. Oh, so jealous here. She never has to worry about her hair bushing
up on a humid day or the sun giving her freckles like I do with my
shoulder-length red hair and uber-pale complexion. Even her eyes drive me nuts.
Instead of green like mine, which everyone says look like the local pond's
algae, Tiana's are gray. She has more than high school to worry about. Her mom
won a court decision only a week ago, forcing Tiana to visit her in prison. The
timing can't be worse. The first visit is the same day as the Valentine's Day
Dance. Poor Tiana not only has to miss the most romantic dance of the year, she
has to listen to her mom grouch about how a judge forced her into a plea deal
that keeps her in prison for ten years. The dummy never should have driven when
she was drunk. The family she hit is still recovering from their injuries.
“You
also have a long term art project,” Mr. Janks says with what sounds like very
little patience for our issues. “Now, I have a few things to say about the
project since it sounds like most of you can't remember what you signed last
August. It will be a major part of your final grade. Just like all your other
EOCs.”
Shocked
beyond belief, I scribble what he says in a desperate effort to make sure I
pass this very important, blown off exam. Who ever thought I, Erin Sellers,
would panic at the thought of an art project? I churn out assignments in this
class without a second thought. Art is my passion, the one thing I live for,
the way I relax. With everything else going on in my life, and all the issues
at school, I don't need an announcement I never expected.
Usually,
I love school. No wasted moments pass before I dive into the planning sessions
with my crew for all major projects, the people I share each and every secret
with. This time, I'm alone except for Tiana, and she sounds like she wants
nothing to do with art.
“Why
can't we just do what we usually do?” she asks. “It's not like we'll ever use
art again.”
Oops!
Major faux pas. Boy, is she about to hear it. He lives and breathes art in
every form.
“All
of you were included in this class for your artistic abilities.” His voice
sounds colder than a late January snowstorm. “I expect you to do this
assignment or join me for summer school while the rest of your friends enjoy
their vacation, Ms. Bolton. Now, if you're through whining, I need to finish
explaining this assignment before the bell rings.” Whoa! Mr. Janks never talks
like this. He is far cooler than any other teacher, and he dresses the starving
artist part. Shoulder-length blond hair with a few gray streaks highlights a
thin face. Cheekbones stick out under his super-pale blue eyes, and stubble on
his chin makes him look so laid back. Until this moment, I've never heard him
tell a student off like he just did.
“Yeah.”
Tiana slumps down in her seat. “Whatever. Like I'll have time.”
How
I wish for the old days, when nothing got her down. She went into a total slide
after her mom went to jail for the DUI. My crew and I want to help, but her
home life is such a bummer. Her dad smokes pot from the time he gets off work
until he passes out around ten or eleven every night. And she has to deal with
her mom's stupid remarks whenever the woman calls, and her dad's drug
addiction, but she is so cool about staying off the stuff herself.
“Does
everyone understand I won't tolerate any reason for avoiding this project?” he
asks.
His
voice warms up a little. Almost like going from minus one to zero on the
thermometer. Like me, the rest of the class sits quietly with pencils or pens
poised above notebooks. No one wants to piss him off any more than he already
is.
“Fine.”
He searches the top of his desk as a question occurs to me.
“Uh,
Mr. Janks?
“Yes,
Erin.” No patience in his voice, just a lot of suppressed anger, like he thinks
I'm about to make trouble.
No
one, but no one, can accuse me of causing problems on purpose. If anything, I
go out of my way to avoid notice and trouble, except telling off any teen
drinking booze. The urge to say “it doesn’t matter” almost makes me change my
mind, but I really have to know something.
“Will
we have to get permission from the city to do this project? I mean, you used
the Rec Center as an example. We can't just go in and do what we want unless
someone approves it. Right?”
“You're
right.” His voice softens. “Thank you for mentioning that.” He holds up a
folder. “I have a list of places the city wants cleaned up. Mayor Flaggins
agreed to let you kids—”
The
whole room erupts into moans and groans. None of us like someone calling us
kids, not with most of us already eighteen.
He
laughs instead of getting upset. “Sorry. All right, class, here's the list.
I'll call out a location, and the first person with their hand up gets it. I
have enough locations for everyone to work alone, except one. Two of you will
have to share.”
I
sit back and go over possible locations in my mind. One sticks out. The park
across from the police station on Main Street. There's a fantastic in-ground
fountain for kids to play in during the summer and a bunch of concrete benches
around it with walking paths and short walls. The fountain has a huge jet in
the center and shoots water in a long stream over the nearby area. It also has
smaller jets with bubbling water around the basin. But it's so plain, and the
perfect place for a fantastic mural about living in a rural area.
“The
old Long John Silver's near the Red Foods,” Mr. Janks says. “Mayor Flaggins
thought something related to farming there.”
“Me!”
Tuck waves his arm back and forth. “I have this fantastic idea. Maybe something
including Jackson Valley and all the farms down there.”
Wallis
County has a lot of small farms, nothing more than five to ten acres for people
to put in enough vegetables to feed their families and sell the rest at truck
stands. Tuck's suggestion brings up a visual of a long winding road beside a
creek with houses against small hills and open fields to either side. In the
summer, during the height of growing season, it looks fabulous.
“Okay,
Tuck has the Long John Silver's.” Mr. Janks makes a note. “Let’s get on with the
rest.”
The
list of places to decorate sounds boring, and like Mayor Flaggins wants free
labor to clean up some pretty nasty parts of town. Yeah, the economy stinks,
but why do we have to volunteer to do something the mayor can put people
sentenced to community service on?
“Okay,
just two more,” Mr. Janks says, jerking me back to reality. “Next, the fountain
near—”
My
hand shoots into the air, and I wave my arm harder than Tuck did.
“Looks
like Erin's hot for this one,” he says. “Okay, Erin. Want to share your idea?”
“Not
sure yet,” I say. “Something including kids and the fountain. Definitely
green.”
“Good.”
He nods. “I like the idea of using green products. Now, last but not least is
the Rec Center playground. Definitely a two-person job. Tiana?”
“I
guess.” She sounds less than enthusiastic. “But it's a huge job. I can't even
think of a single thing kids will like there that won't take me hours and hours
I don't have.”
A
loud crack of gum snapping jerks everyone forward in their seats. My eyes roll,
and I want to grab the gum-cracker’s “water” bottle and throw it out,
preferably in another state. A drunk in class is bad enough, but a gum-chewing
drunk makes me crazed.
“I
guess I have to bail out Tiana,” Laura Wiley says. “Whatever.” She buffs
blood-red fingernails against her sweater. “This better not mess up my
manicure.”
The
queen of the Kewl Krew checks in. Oh great! So not.
2 comments:
Thank you for participating in the blog tour. Great post.
Thanks for posting this.This is awesome!!
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