Anita's "Scary Release!"

...nothing beats the socks off a muggy evening made for gators and things that go bump in the night, like "A Scary Good Book," from a writer who knows how to keep 'em turning the pages ;)

Anita Laydon Miller, book columnist for the Colorado Springs Gazette, and the author of "Earthling Hero," has on this day, the 8th of the 8th, released her latest work, "A Scary Good Book."

...twelve-year old Hannah Stone tells everyone she's "okay," but that's a total lie. Two years ago her dad was killed by a hit-and-run driver. The detective in charge of the case never found the driver, but he somehow managed to get Hannah's mom to fall in love with him. The Jerk. And speaking of love, Hannah's developed a major crush on Ollie Ortega-he's her best friend and the only one she can talk to-a crush on Ollie is so not a good idea.

Also not a good idea? Searching for a missing person with no help from the police. But that's exactly what Hannah does when she finds messages in library books-underlined words that point her in the direction of someone who needs her.

And suddenly, Hannah's even further from okay. She breaks into a library, gets caught in a kidnapper's web, and is stalked by her dad's killer, all in an effort to save a life...but can she save herself too?

"A Scary Good Book" is listed for $.99 and is available under the links below.

Smashwords:

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/77904

B&N:

http://search.barnesandnoble.com/A-Scary-Good-Book/Anita-Laydon-Miller/e/2940013164963

Amazon:

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005FNGIBW

http://anitalaydonmiller.blogspot.com/

Enjoy ;)

EL

"Charmingly Kindled"

...rumor's can be feisty deviants if not tended to with a proper frame of mind. Allow one's concentration wander, and the tiniest exaggeration may sprout wings and take flight, darting about like a bat at dusk...

Throughout the course of my first-ever book signing, several visitors, who's copies I nervously sprawled ink to, mentioned noticing "South of Charm" being advertised on Kindle. I politely shrugged off the notion, assuming they'd been mistaken.

A few hours later, upon returning home following an evening of celebration, I tapped on a few keys, brought up Amazon, and realized the joke was on me ;)

Funny, those publishers of mine, always one step ahead, playing the role of prankster while their writer's attention has wandered elsewhere...

"South of Charm" debuted on Kindle during the eve of my first book signing.

Rumors...sometimes they're nothing more than vengeful chatter. Other times, well... ;)

"...I found my sister in the closet. She was sitting Indian style under the protective covering of both our wardrobes, various designs of cotton or denim mashed together and hanging from a steel rod. She'd shoved a few pairs of shoes to the side, allowing herself enough room for play in the back corner. With the bi-fold doors partially closed, she was all but impossible to see from the entry.

"What are you doing? I asked.

"Feeding 'Becca," she said.

In her arms she was cradling her favorite baby doll, a small plastic bottle shoved into its mouth. Like our mother, I noticed that Katie had spent the day in her nighty. She was barefoot, her curls tangled and twisted like auburn-shaded jungle foliage.

"Why are you in the closet?"

"Mommy's been yelling all day."

"At who?"

"The phone. It ringed and ringed."

I could hear Mom through the paneled wall, her voice steadily rising to a screech.

"I think Kitty's sick," Katie said.

"Huh?" I asked, trying to listen to both my mother and sister at the same time.

"Kitty. She just sits and stares now."

"It's a he, and he's pretty old. Maybe he's dying or something."

It was strange how hearing Mom plead her case to Grandma somehow managed to comfort me. She didn't seem as frightening when I could recognize her voice. When I knew it was really her I was looking at.

"How do you know he's a boy?"

I turned back to my sister, incredulous. "Don't be dumb," I said. "What the heck do you think those fuzzy things are under his butt?"

She considered this for a moment, then said, "Someone knocked on the door too."

My head on a swivel, I asked, "Who was it?"

Katie shrugged her shoulders. "Don't know. Mommy said to stay here. They knocked, then left."

"Mom didn't answer the door?"

"Nope."

Mom's voice was rising and falling through hills and valleys, normally what happened before she'd start crying. She'd go from pleading her case in a pitch similar to Katie's, to dropping her tone deeper than anything Dad could ever muster, all in the same breath.

"She's getting mad," I mumbled.

"See why I'm here?" Katie said, glancing up from her doll. "It's quiet in closets..."

"South of Charm."

Thanks for reading ;)

EL

http://www.amazon.com/South-Charm-Novel-ebook/dp/B005DJ945A/ref=dp_kinw_strp_1?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2

Here and Now...

...it's where we've been, those things we've done or words we've said. Regrets...and the lessons they've taught us.

Accepting defeat, but never failure. Learning from it. Remembering that feeling, a venomous throb churning within. Committing to improve, to succeed. And to try, try again.

This is about not putting it off until later. It's about getting it done Here. And Now...

Oh, and as for my whereabouts this summer...

It's where the shuffle of cleats can stir up a cloud of dust over a scorched ball field, the salty taste of grit settling upon one's tongue.

And still we cheer. We jump and we laugh.

It's where girls prance along an elderly sidewalk withering under Father Time's scowl. Sandals snapping against their heels, the sound like a pair of festering turtles. And their young suitors standing nearby, leaning against park benches, ornery thoughts nearly visible through summer's haze.

Where the air smells of coconut and seaweed, the ocean ever reaching with tendrils of foam.

And where a simple glance to the skies reveal a place so enchanting, so blue, that surely it must lead somewhere...

Surely it must ;)

It's playoff week. The boys are ready.

My first book signing looms on the 22nd.

My wife and I are celebrating our Anniversary.

And the Ying of the Yang? Earlier this evening my wife was on Facebook, spotted a post generated from our teenage foster child, (some of you may remember her as The Girl,) and called me over from across the room.

The post featured a picture of my book. Several links smeared underneath, luring readers to Amazon or GoodReads. And next to the cover, a quote from The Girl.

"Hey all! Check out my dad's book! It's a great read!"

...what can I say? The kid's got taste ;)

http://www.amazon.com/South-Charm-Novel-Elliot-Grace/dp/1590983637/ref=pd_rhf_p_t_2

http://www.woosterbook.com/additional/southcharm.html

EL

Akron Beacon Journal Review's "South of Charm" ;)

...courtesy of Barbara McIntyre, Special Correspondence to The Akron Beacon Journal. Enjoy:)

"South of Charm" Family Splinters

..."South of Charm," the debut novel by Holmes County native Elliot Grace, is an affecting drama about a marital breakdown and its effects on children. Set in the early 1980's in the small Holmes County village of Charm, it is especially convincing in its portrayal of its main character, the narrator for most of the book.

Danny Kaufman is a 9-year old boy who lives in a small apartment in Charm with his parents, Wayne and Sheryl, and his 4-year old sister Katie. They're not well off, but content enough, and things start looking up when Danny becomes friends with the boy who was last year's class bully.

The trouble begins when Sheryl believes she has found evidence of Wayne's infidelity and makes an angry accusation. Wayne retaliates with violence, and the couple begins an ongoing battle that terrifies the children.

Sheryl, a devout churchgoer, becomes convinced that she is being advised by a spiritual guide and that she is being spied on by her neighbors. Wayne is away often because of his job as a long-distance truck driver, and as the marriage continues to degrade, Danny finds refuge in sports while he tries to protect his sister.

Many will relate to the book's themes of faith and loyalty, and Danny's frustration that no matter how good he is at baseball, it won't help him save his family.

"South of Charm" (404 pages, softcover) Wooster Book Company

http://www.woosterbook.com/additional/southcharm.html

http://www.amazon.com/South-Charm-Novel-Elliot-Grace/dp/1590983637/ref=pd_rhf_p_t_2

Thanks for reading...EL

ht

tp://www.amazon.com/South-Charm-Novel-Elliot-Grace/dp/1590983637/ref=pd_rhf_p_t_2

A Day With Donna...

...the request was far too tempting to resist:) Fellow writer Donna Hole, whose short story can soon be read in the upcoming, "An Honest Lie" Volume 3, "Justifiable Hipocrisy," has cordially invited me over for a chat.

She'll be reviewing my recent release, "South of Charm," and trading war stories regarding the book biz, fun times in foster care, and whatever else we can dig up for a laugh.

Just a couple of storytellers kicking around the dirt and seeing what lies beneath.

Hop on over and check it out!

EL

http://donnahole.blogspot.com/2011/06/author-elliot-grace-south-of-charm.html

"Interview With Suzy Turner"

...will be spending the day with Suzy Turner, author of "Raven," sharing a little Q & A, talking baseball, books and "South of Charm."

Suzy, this was a blast! You've been a wonderful host, thanks so much!

Hop on over and check it out :)

http://suzyturner.blogspot.com/2011/06/q-with-author-elliot-grace.html

EL

The Kid From My Cover ;)

...following a solid month of gray and gloom, of chilly temps and infinite rainfall, the sun found a crease in the sky, and within a day, Summer had returned.

Bottom of the last inning. No outs. Bases loaded. Winning run at the plate.

Unable to remain in the dugout, I inched my way through the dust and lowered to a kneeling position under what little shade was provided from the nearby bleachers.

As the opposing fans rose in anticipation, I studied my pitcher with gathering dread. A lanky ten year old kicking up a cloud of dust, the brim of his cap shadowing fear etched into his brow. His throwing arm was misbehaving. Trying to protect our three run lead, he'd walked the first two batters to start the inning, and plunked another in the rib cage.

I turned to my assistant coach. "What do you think?"

"Gotta pull him. Kid's tired."

"Yeah, geez. But for who? Bases are loaded. No outs. Can't ask any of them to dig us outta this mess."

I listened to the rattling of phlegm, the wheeze of a smoker's cough, then, "Put in The Heater."

Standing at the shortstop position was our best pitcher. A lefty, feared throughout the league. He boasted a fastball that screamed.

I exhaled a breath, lifted a hand toward the home plate umpire, stopping play, and rose to my feet. "But he's already got too many pitches under his belt," I said over my shoulder.

"What choice do we have?"

A pair of wiry shoulders sagged with my approach. I stood before the boy, held out my hand for the ball. "You did well, son," I said. "But I think that arm of yours has had enough."

"Okay," the boy mumbled.

I glanced over his shoulder, making eye contact with The Heater, who'd already started toward the pitcher's mound.

Then I caught sight of the kid standing alone in the outfield. A thin silhouette rising under a skyline set ablaze. He noticed and straightened, as if fearing he'd done something wrong.

The kid from my cover. A shy thing, too short for the coasters at an amusement park.

I entertained a thought, released a giggle, and motioned him in.

"You're using him?" The Heater asked, jaw hanging open.

I nodded. "You've thrown too many innings. Head back to short. Stop every ball in your path."

The Kid From My Cover stood atop the mound, a wiry set of fingers reaching for the ball.

I dropped it into his hand, lowered myself to his eye level and asked, "Are you okay with this?"

He squared his chest, offered me a nod. "I'm good."

"Good enough for me," I said. "Keep it low in the zone. 1-2-3 and we go home."

"Okay."

I returned to the dugout, studied my assistant's shocked expression. "Call it a hunch."

"Hmmph."

The Kid From My Cover can throw a nifty fastball, but had been knocked around a bit during his last stint on the mound. That thought in mind, I figured maybe he was due.

He struck out his first batter in three pitches. Low fastballs. I offered my assistant a wink. He answered with a grunt.

The second batter knocked two foul balls into the stands, then swung at a low change up, missing badly.

Two outs.

My assistant rose to his feet. Joined me at the dugout fencing. "No way he strikes out the side," he mumbled. "Ain't got it in him."

The Kid From My Cover tossed a lazy fastball that managed to stay in the strike zone just long enough to get the call. "Strike!"

His second pitch was swung at, ripped down the first base line, foul by inches. "Strike two!"

"One more, Kid!" I encouraged. "Blow one by him!"

The Kid From My Cover dug himself a foothold in the dust. Gritting his teeth, he reared back, an arm thin like spaghetti, searching for an ounce of added strength.

He launched forward, released a baseball set aflame, and followed its trajectory over home plate. The batter swung, missed by an inch, and left his bat at the plate.

Game over.

The Kid From My Cover pumped his fist, offered the crowd a sheepish grin. That smile of his...this would be a night he'd remember for quite some time.

Come to think of it, I think I will too ;)

The Kid From My Cover, "South of Charm," is available through my publisher's website...

http://www.woosterbook.com/additional/southcharm.html

...and through Amazon

http://www.amazon.com/South-Charm-Novel-Elliot-Grace/dp/1590983637/ref=pd_rhf_p_t_2

"South of Charm" is currently featured on the book review site, "Reading at Dawn," available on the link below. Check it out :)

http://readingatdawn.blogspot.com/

EL