Chasing Invisible, by Karen Toz

Karen Toz is well-known for her delightful middle-grade fiction and younger characters. Now she is out with her first Adult Contemporary novel, Chasing Invisible.

Julia Alexander is a quiet girl from a small town. Content to spend her days with her small group of friends and a pile of books, Julia thinks her future is set. When she unexpectedly meets Chase, a fellow college student and budding musician, she is unaware of just how drastically things are about to change. 

Suddenly thrown into the limelight, her life is no longer her own. Relentlessly followed by the paparazzi, Julia is forced to make tough decisions about fame, love, family, and relationships. But just how much will Julia have to sacrifice to become invisible...

Chasing Invisible Excerpt:

“Listen to me, Jules, you can’t let some article in a gossip rag get to you,” Katie noted over the phone a few days after Chase and I returned to Rylee. “I thought you looked great.”

It didn’t take long for the red carpet critiques to start rolling in. After the ceremony, Chase and I were on cloud nine, attending party after party. For once, I enjoyed all the attention. We returned to our hotel room hours after midnight. As Chase took a shower, I made the mistake of collapsing onto the couch, flipping through the channels. There I was, walking the red carpet with Chase by my side. Only, the cameras were not on Chase. They were focused solely on me, panning me from top to bottom. I realized then, I was watching one of those “Red Carpet Recap” shows.

Oh no. My eyes were glued to the TV as my stomach turned. Sure enough, the review was less than glorious.

I tried to convince myself not to let what I just saw ruin my high from the evening. This was Chase’s night. Who cared what they thought about my dress. Besides, it was just one show, and it aired after midnight! Nobody was paying attention.

Between the exhaustion and the euphoria of the evening, I had all but forgotten about it by the time I woke up the next morning. Chase and I ordered room service, so we could enjoy a peaceful and romantic breakfast on the patio of our hotel suite. As I poured my second cup of coffee, I heard Chase gasp. That's when I saw what he was reading.

“I wouldn’t exactly call The Los Angeles Times a gossip rag,” I responded to Katie, “and it wasn’t just in there. It's days later, and it's still all over the television. It's even in the local papers here in Rylee. I’m sure it's been in the Leeland Post as well.”

The silence on the other end of the phone confirmed my suspicions.

“What does Chase say?” Katie asked.

“He thinks I’m overreacting and says it will just blow over like everything else. If you ask me, I think he's a little upset he’s not the one getting all the attention. I can’t say I blame him. It was supposed to be his night. Believe me, I’d much prefer they focus on him.”

“I’m so sorry, Jules,” Katie said. “I wish I could make the reporters and photographers all go away, but this is your life. This is their life. Pretty and nice doesn’t sell, so they have to find something that does, and unfortunately the public eats it up.”

“So, what ... I’m just supposed to stay locked up in my house with the kids?”

“No,” Katie said, “just the opposite. Go on with your life. Keep doing all the things you do that are so great. Show them you don’t care. Don’t let them take over your life, Jules. Don’t let them win.”

Buy Chasing Invisible on Amazon and Smashwords.

The Love of Books - Valentine’s Day blog hop

This blog is part of  Terri Long's Valentine's Day blog hop. Scroll down for other blogs in the hop (highly recommended - they are a lot of fun) as well as a big giveaway and raffle.

I vaguely remember a time, far in the past, when I couldn’t read. Even then, I was surrounded by books – our tiny living room in the Arizona row home was wall-to-wall with bookshelves.

Both my parents were “desperate” readers. She loved reading so much that if she picked up anything with text on it, we would find her, hours later, frozen in one spot, eyes glued to a book on Irish poetry or the old newspaper that lined the drawer.

In order to entertain me as she graded papers and did dishes, she used to put on records of Alice Through the Looking Glass. I listened to them so often that I nearly memorized the story. Later, it was the Oz books – the entire series, along with the Ruth Plumly Thompson continuations.

When we finally learned to read in first grade (from the old-fashioned Dick and Jane books – really) I loved it right away. The thought that those black marks on a  white page meant something was magic – real magic, that could transport me to different eras and countries in the turn of a page.

Did I say Arizona? Summers there were HOT. My parents scrimped all year to save up enough to take us to Ireland, and there we spent weeks in my grandparents house. There was no television there, only an old radio to be used for the six o’clock news.

As a result, my entertainment was books. My grandmother had old volumes of girls’ school stories – Angela Brazil and the Chalet school books. The volumes were filled with ancient Brit slang and funny, copperplate illustrations of females from a vanished era. They wore huge hair ribbons and dropped waists, and I loved them. They had names like Philippa and Mabel, and their exploits and successes were completely real to me.

I read so much that it became a vice – Mum used to threaten to take my book away if I didn’t wash the dishes or at least clear a path through the books piled up around my bed.  When I had my head in a really good story, I was lost to the outside. People would talk to me, and I wouldn’t respond. I wasn’t there at all, you understand – the book had wafted me off to some fantasy land. (Still, it must have been extremely annoying at the time.)

And did I mention the fascination of maps? (yes, I'm obsessed.)

The pages of those books were often covered in a soft “bloom” of age – yellowed spots that spread like lichen throughout the books. As I read, I inhaled the tantalizing scent of must and old leather. Years later, I would seek out that smell in old bookshops and libraries, and it never fails to quicken my pulse.

Now we have  Kindles and Nooks, and I like them as well. I enjoy carrying entire shelves filled with books on my iPad, and I always having a few books going at once. Still, nothing can replace the feel and the smell of those old books, as well as those gorgeous illustrations.

My dream vacation is to stay in Scotland or some rainy, windy place, in an old inn with soft beds and huge fireplaces. I’ll bring stacks of books and stay for a few days, just reading. Maybe I’ll take a long walk each day to compensate for the cream teas I plan to eat.

Who’s with me?

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Voyage of Discovery : Completing My First Novel, by Carlie Cullen

(Today I have handed the house keys to Carlie Cullen, my fellow author in Essex. It is with a great deal of admiration and pride that I present this blogpost from the author of Heart Search, a story about Remy, who is looking for her missing fiancee, and Joshua, who is something quite different and strange. It sounds like an amazing book, and I can't wait for her to edit it and publish!) And go and check out her cool blog as well; I'm hiding over there today!  A.D.

I have made a real voyage of discovery. It took me nine months, three hundred and twenty nine pages, one hundred and fifty thousand four hundred and forty one words and at the end of it was my first completed novel!

“Heart Search : Lost”, the first book in the “Heart Search” trilogy was nothing short of a labour of love. It was my first real attempt at a full-length novel and like a lot of writers starting out, I really wasn’t sure I had the ability/imagination/skill to write more than short stories. In addition, I had doubts that anything I wrote would be worth another person’s time and effort to read.

I’d had the idea for the novel (it was only going to be one at the start) buzzing around in my head for a couple of months before I committed to trying to write anything. The more I thought about the possible plots, the more the characters began to grow in my mind and in my heart. I knew I had to tell their tale – it was too important to them not to – and so I began creating it in September 2010.

After planning my characters and story synopsis, I plotted the first twelve chapters and began the story. As I started tapping away on my keyboard, something strange happened – the story took on a life all its own. It was like I was a channel for the words that just appeared as if from nowhere. The chapter plot went out the window and I had no option but to just flow with the current. The story took me in directions I hadn’t considered and it all seemed to work, even though I had two stories running parallel to each other; one written in first person, the other in third.

My daughter kept nicking my laptop every time I put it down,  reading what I’d written then pestering me endlessly to write the next bit. She was hooked and it was then I realised that maybe I was good at this and other people might like it too.

As the story progressed, I was surprised to find how connected I became to my two main characters, how inextricably linked we were and I shared their emotions; when they laughed, I laughed, when they cried, I cried too. They were part of me. So, when I had to take a three-month break to move house, Remy and Joshua (my two protagonists) were screaming at me on a daily basis to get back to writing. When I did, there was no stopping me and at precisely 1.40am on Tuesday 26^th October 2011, I finished typing the final sentence.

I sat there, stunned. I had done it – I’d completed my first novel! Then the euphoria hit. I punched the air and shouted “YES!!!” waking my daughter in the process (oops). I had a smile that wouldn’t quit for days afterwards and I felt like I was walking on fluffy white clouds. It was such an amazing feeling of accomplishment and, dammit, I was proud of myself! I was so hyped that night, I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep for ages, but apart from posting my glorious news on Twitter and Facebook, I honestly can’t remember what else I did. Even though this was over a month ago and I’ve competed in NaNoWriMo since then (and won), the electric tingly buzz of pure joy hasn’t left me. The only time in my life I’ve ever felt joy of a similar magnitude, was the day I gave birth to my wonderful daughter!

I’m so happy and proud of my achievement, I would like to share a world exclusive with you, an excerpt from “Heart Search : Lost”. I hope you like it.

“His hiding place was perfect; darkness surrounded and comforted him and he became one with it. He had chosen well. The ancient ruins were totally hidden by overgrown shrubs and trees. From this place, he could venture out before dusk, completely obscured by the dense canopy of the ancient trees; the sun struggled to break through even at midday.

He was close, closer than ever before, so close that the flavour of the human’s essence coated his sensitive tongue. The one sought was nearby – he could sense him. He had searched for a very long time to find someone this special. Sure he’d found talent along the way, but this one, this human was something else entirely.

The excitement was building inside like a volcano preparing to erupt. His tongue ran over his teeth; venom pooled in his mouth and he savoured the flavour. There would be a new flavour to add to it soon. Very soon.

He first detected the scent two days ago. Unfortunately, an opportunity had not presented itself and he had become frustrated to the point of anger as strategy after strategy was thwarted by the most stupid and pointless of reasons. He was tenacious when there was something he desired and right now there was nothing he desired more than this human. There was a plentiful supply around to quench his thirst - that was not his aim.

His reverie was interrupted – a familiar scent wafted on the air that permeated the shelter. It was the human - the one he sought – and so near, too near to be allowed to escape again. Once more venom collected in his mouth.

He moved swiftly through the darkness with perfect vision towards the exit hidden amongst the foliage. The closer he got to the outside, the stronger the scent, and the more eager he became.

It was time.”

Now begins the long process of revising and editing, but to be honest, I’m not fazed by this at all. I know that my manuscript will become stronger, more polished and I can look at giving my characters even more depth. After all, if it wasn’t for Remy and Joshua taking up residence in my head and heart, this story might not have been written at all.

Now, don't forget to look for me at Carlie's blog! 

A True Kind of Love Story; Or, An Ode to Friendship

There are loads of romance novels out there, and I have enjoyed quite a few of them. Georgette Heyer, for example, is a goddess to me. A well written romance, especially if it includes humor and some nice historical touches, is a delight. I'm talking a rainy day outside, a fire within, me, the couch, and a pot of tea... and a book in my hands.

Nurse Gwen must choose between Dr. Jack or a man about town!!!!!!!!

As a woman, I find romance very important. But there is a different kind of love that is also important, nay, vital to my happiness. I mean the relationship that I have with my girlfriends, the ones I chat with on the phone, the ones who are there to hear me vent, the ones who used to listen to me sob over the end of some great romance in my life.

There are some stories out there about friendships. During the seventies, the move Julia told the story of Lilliam Helmaann's friendship during the second world war. The Turning Point looked at the friendship between two ballerinas.

In the nineties there was that great love story about two friends, The Shawshank Redemption, but naturally that was about male friendship. I'd love to see a female version of that.

I wish there were more stories like this. Friendship is sometimes seen as a background. You have the sassy friend, the supportive friend, the rebellious friend, the bitchy friend, and they're usually there to help the main character through a mystery or a love affair.

But how about the development of the actual friendship itself?

Friendships sometimes grow, like romances, over time. Friends bump heads. We quarrel, and make up. We chat. We go out. We are there for each other, no matter what.

I wish, as an author, that I had the creds to detail that relationship. The story and the importance of friends, after all, is a special thing, and it is a bit neglected.

Anyone out there writing anything about pure friendship?