The Author Blog of Nikki Noffsinger: Teen

Mira wants to die. She’s attempted suicide twice already and failed. Every time she comes in contact with another person, skin to skin, that person’s psyche uploads into hers. While her psychologist considers this a gift, for Mira it’s a curse from which she cannot escape.

To make matters worse, Mira’s father is being investigated for the deaths of several volunteer test subjects of the miracle drug Gaudium. Shortly after Mira’s mother starts asking questions, she ends up in a coma. Although her father claims it was an accident, thanks to her “condition” Mira knows the truth, but proving it just might get her killed.

Evernight Teen - http://www.evernightteen.com/contact-by-laurisa-white-reyes/ RRP: ~~$5.99~~ Your Price: $4.49 (You save $1.50)

Amazon - http://www.amazon.com/Contact-Laurisa-White-Reyes-ebook/dp/B01BLKHLX6/

14+ due to adult situations

Thirteen Below-http://thirteenbelow.com/shop/#!/Fractured-Fantasies-Valentines-Venom-eBook/p/58991083/category=12024988

Excerpt:

I’m alive?

Yes. Still alive…

Again.

A tube runs from an IV bag into my arm, the plastic needle burrowing under my skin like a tick. Thank God I was unconscious when they put that in. I cringe at the thought of being deluged with so many psyches at once—paramedics, nurses, doctors, all of them touching me.

Where are my clothes? They must have taken them off when I was out. This flimsy gown can’t protect me. I want to tear off the tape securing the IV tube to my skin, rip it off like a Band-Aid. I want out of here, but then I see Mama sleeping beside me, her body sloped in a plastic chair. I shouldn’t have done this to her again. But I had to try.

A plastic clamp pinches my finger, connecting me to a heart monitor. Three inches further up, my wrist is wrapped in gauze. Two months ago I would never have had the courage to do this—or any reason to. But now, feeling the staples beneath the bandage, I wonder how deep someone has to cut in order to die?

The curtain jerks back, the metal rings dragging across the ceiling rail. Mama snaps to attention. I half expect her to stand and salute.

“Miranda Ortiz?” says a woman in a beige linen suit and crisp white blouse. She is thin, stiff, and colorless. She reeks of gardenias.

“I’m Dr. Walsh from Mental Health,” she continues. The plastic laminated nametag hanging from her neck confirms this.

Dr. Walsh extends her hand, but instead of taking it, I grasp the edge of my sheet and pull it up to my chin. Other than this stupid hospital gown, it’s the only barrier I’ve got right now.

Mama stands up and reaches over the bed to shake the doctor’s hand. “I’m Mira’s mother, Ana,” she says wearily. She starts to sit back down, but Dr. Walsh interrupts.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Mrs. Ortiz. However, I’d like to speak to your daughter alone, if that’s all right.”

Dr. Walsh is insistent, in a polite sort of way. Mama leans toward me, and for a split second I think she’s going to kiss me goodbye. Though deep down I almost wish she would, instead she offers me her gentle smile and tucks the sheet under my shoulder.

“Please don’t go,” I whisper.

“It’ll only be a few minutes,” she says. “I’ll be just outside, all right?”

Mama brushes a strand of hair from my eyes with her manicured fingernails, careful to avoid contact with my skin. She smiles at me, but her eyes are wistful. As she walks out, my insides tighten up, and I suddenly realize how much I’ve missed her touch. My instinct is to cling to her like when I was small, but instead I press my arms stiffly to my sides like a corpse.

A security guard opens the door and accompanies Mama out into the hall. Dr. Walsh takes Mama’s empty chair, crosses one leg over the other, and lays a clipboard on her knee. “So,” she begins, “you cut yourself last night. Is that right?”

Her voice is casual and smooth, as if she’s just asked me what I ate for dinner. She waits for me to respond. When I don’t, she glances down at her clipboard. “I understand it’s not your first attempt. You were here a couple of weeks ago, I see. Overdose, but no permanent damage done.”

She glances up at me, pausing in case I have something to say.

I don’t.

Laurisa White Reyes is the author of The Celestine Chronicles and The Crystal Keeper series. She has a Masters degree in English and is the Editor-in-Chief of Middle Shelf Magazine. Visit her website at: www.laurisawhitereyes.com

“This is what the truth is. Second Salvations murdered my parents, and I’m running away.” A single post over unregulated Internet channels. A sleeping society awakens to a chase, broadcast live on television screens all across the New United States of America... Rebecca and Daniel have never met. A fifteen-year-old preacher’s kid and a sixteen-year-old atheist outcast, they appear to have little in common. And yet they have both attracted the attention of a recruiter for Angel Island, where bad kids go to be remade—or destroyed. Agents of the all-powerful New America Unity Church will stop at nothing to get them. They’re building an army, a modern children’s crusade, in which Rebecca and Daniel may be just the kind of future leaders they need. If not, they might be just the kind of sacrifice necessary to keep the rest of the faithless in line.

What does your writing desk look like? What would we find on it right this minute?
My “desk” is actually a table with aluminum legs! The mouse for my computer sits atop a soft, book-sized afghan that, in turn, is binder-clipped to my all-in-one hardback edition of The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (50^th Anniversary edition). There’s a small pile of McDonald’s napkins that I’ve accumulated under the monitor. I also have a pepper shaker on my desk for some reason—can’t remember how it got here, and I’m not sure why I haven’t put it away yet. Oh, and there’s my magnifying glass. I was wondering where that went. Most importantly, there’s a small black metal box filled with notecards. I do all my outlining on those cards before transferring to computer—weird, I know. My daily double shot of caffeine is here, too: coffee and Diet Coke. Next to me is the cat perch, where my partner in crime, Shazam, curls up and makes sure I don’t get myself into too much trouble.

When and why did you begin writing?
I was nine years old when I wrote my first short story, an eight-page epic and heroic fantasy tale called “Mighty War of the Dragons.” I was going to a private religious school at the time, getting into all kinds of trouble, and really feeling like I couldn’t fit in with my peers. Being able to pass that story around and get other kids to read it—well, that was my thing. I was starved for attention. There was no driving need to be creative, no need for catharsis or escape. I wanted an audience, and I had no other talents.
At what point did you first consider yourself a writer?
I’ve considered myself a writer ever since I started writing tales that weren’t specifically assigned to me by a teacher. I even bound my stories with little garbage bag twisties and put ratings on them, like this: “The Witch and the Haunted Forest,” by Marcus Damanda, Rated R for violence and the presence of demons.
What inspired you to write your first book?
My family, especially my dad, was very encouraging. I also had terrific friends who pushed me and help me get better—especially an amazing woman named Barbara Posey, who’s been suffering through my material for thirty-one years now. When I was nineteen years old, I wrote my first real book-length story that had a chance. I was inspired largely by Stephen King at that point. The horror market was in full-gear back then, and I was excited by the prospect of shocking and terrifying an unsuspecting world.
Do you have a specific writing style? In other words, are you a plotter or a pantser?
I’m absolutely a “plotter.” I plan everything. It’s ridiculous, borderline obsessive—but, then again, when it comes time to start the fun work of typing a draft, I can usually attack the story with a good deal of confidence. There are times, sitting in front of the screen, that’ll I will lean back in my chair and actually cackle in satisfaction—which used to freak out the cat, but he’s used to it now.
How did you come up with the titles to your book(s)?
I alternate between banging my head against a wall and screaming aloud, “God, please, give me a title that doesn’t totally suck!”
Is there a message in your book(s) that you want readers to grasp?
I’m already prepared for people to make the assumption that The Salvation State is a “message” book—a grand statement about the evils of government and organized religion. It’s fair enough, I suppose, although all I really wanted to do was try my hand at the dystopian future genre. Same thing with The Devil in Miss Drake’s Class horror trilogy. There’s no denying there’s an anti-bullying message underlying that story, but my first goal was to write something blow-your-hair-back scary. I never deliberately set out to teach something in a didactic way to readers; nor do I mind if a larger implication comes through in a natural way. Story first—anything else is just a bonus … or, if done poorly, a distraction.
What are you currently working on? Can you give us a sneak peek?
I’m currently outlining the sequel to The Salvation State, of course! There’s nothing polished enough to show just yet, but I’m hoping it will be done by the end of the summer. I can tell you this much: there’s going to be a lot of action in it. It’ll be kind of a futuristic update of that old Steve McQueen movie, The Great Escape. I’m really excited about it.
Do you see writing as a career? Do you write full time? Or in addition to another job?
I absolutely see writing as a career, and I intend to do it until I seize up and die in front of the computer. However, I am also a middle school English teacher—so I’m juggling two careers at once. I love both jobs, and I’m always trying to get better at them.
Do you recall how your interest in writing originated?
Even as I was struggling socially and academically in my private school, I had a strong little brotherhood of friends at home. My writing got kick started by playing Dungeons and Dragons with the other neighborhood kids. D&D is a storytelling game at its core, and that was what appealed to me. So, before long, I took on the role of “Dungeon Master” in my group, setting up all the heroic and adventuresome scenarios the other kids would play through. And it was at exactly that time in my life that I started writing, too.

The Fun Stuff

Who I am

I am Marcus Damanda: world’s greatest uncle, teacher of tweens, master of Shazam the cat—I am a writer, weaver of nightmares and dreams, oracle and prophet, conjurer of tales magical and terrifying. I am the Ferryman who bears readers across story landscapes hitherto unexplored … or some crap like that.

What genres I write in

Dystopian future, horror, character-driven young adult and teen fiction

Favorite genres to read

See above! Also, I try to keep up with what the kids are reading at school, and I’ve grown unexpectedly fond of the romance novels and fantasies published by my talented colleagues at Evernight Teen.

Favorite TV shows

Game of Thrones—and that’s pretty much it. To me, usually, the closest I come to television is enjoying a never ending stream of audiobooks.

Last movie I saw on the big screen

The Force Awakens (along with everyone else), but I’m looking forward to The Hateful Eight.

What’s on my Netflix list (to be watched)

I still have to finish up the two Mockingjay movies and The Scorch Trials, believe it or not.

Coffee or Tea

Coffee—easily. By the bucket.

Chocolate or Caramel

Yes. Put ’em together!

Apple Cider or Pumpkin Spice

Gotta go pumpkin here, unless we can ferment the cider and start a serious party.

Rock N Roll or Country

Rock and roll—specifically, 70s and 80s heavy metal.

Lumberjack or Police Officer

For a friend? I’ll take a cop any day. As an alter ego—still a cop. In a Monty Python movie, I’ll take the lumberjack.

Tropical Island or Winter Cabin

Winter cabin, warm fire crackling, the wind outside singing like a chorus of ghosts. And, yeah, you really don’t want me in swim trunks. We’ll leave it at that.

http://www.evernightteen.com/the-salvation-state-by-marcus-damanda/

Marcus Damanda lives in Woodbridge, Virginia with his cat, Shazam. At various times throughout his life, he played bass guitar for the garage heavy metal band Mother’s Day, wrote for The Dale City Messenger, and published editorials in The Potomac News and The Freelance Star. Currently, while not plotting his next foray into fictitious suburban mayhem, he spoils his nieces and nephews and teaches middle school English.

Website: http://www.marcusdamanda.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarcusDamandaAuthor?ref=hl

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarcusDamanda