Middle Grade Fantasy
Alyssa McCarthy's Magical Missions, Book 1
Publisher: S.A. Prasad Publishing
Published: October 2018
An Adventure of Modern Magic
Twelve-year-old Alyssa McCarthy longs for a better life. She lost her parents at age seven and her aunt at nine. Her uncle also enforces unfair rules. But Alyssa discovers something she has never thought existed before… magic. A wicked sorcerer hunts her down. He kidnaps her from her ordinary New Jersey town to Yanowic, an enchanted island in Fiji.
Alyssa is trapped in the country due to a giant shield covering it. She must defeat dangerous creatures and the evil wizard in order to leave. But with sorcerers and enchanted technology getting in her way, can Alyssa succeed?
Originally published in 2013, the book has been updated to its full potential with edits, while keeping the storyline the same.
Excerpt
1
Rain banged against the window. Alyssa looked up from washing her lunch dishes and stared at it. At least she could daydream while no one else noticed. After all, how else would she spend life without family fun—or even love? Her uncle enforced strict and unfair rules. Alyssa longed for the kind of life she’d lived before her parents had died in a car crash five years ago. She’d only been seven at that time, and now she couldn’t experience things like many children her age. Unless . . . she could find her godfather’s phone number and secretly call him. She hadn’t talked to him ever since she’d also lost her aunt three years ago. But she recalled his kind attitude. Her parents had even designated him as a legal guardian. But something seemed off with the raindrops. They turned grayish blue and darkened into black, looking as if ink fell from the sky. Alyssa leaned closer, squinting to determine the shapes it formed on the window. The rain formed—letters. No. That couldn’t happen. But a message formed as the rain plopped on other parts of the window. Nature couldn’t change its laws, right? Yet, the message finished putting itself together. Alyssa gasped at what it said.
Your life will never be the same again, Alyssa McCarthy, as magic will interfere.
What? Alyssa had never believed in magic. She’d been told at a young age that it hadn’t existed. Everyone on Orion Street was ordinary—at least, Alyssa had thought that ever since she’d moved here, right after her parents’ deaths. Turning around, she saw her babysitter, Mrs. Hutchinson, examine the kitchen floor. Alyssa’s eleven-year-old cousin, Hailey, watched the progress. Hailey had mopped the floor. Would she earn a break now? Ever since her uncle, Bruce, had hired Mrs. Hutchinson, Mrs. Hutchinson had admired the way Hailey had done her chores more than Alyssa. “Hailey, you can take a break until your next chore,” said Mrs. Hutchinson. “Alyssa, get back to work. You’ve been staring at the rain for too long.” “Okay.” Alyssa turned back—only to see the message gone and the rain back to its normal transparency. “What did I say?” asked Mrs. Hutchinson. Alyssa sighed. “Fine, I’ll finish washing the dishes.” She scrubbed her dish and glass with soap under warm running water. Her eyes focused on just those. No way would she want Mrs. Hutchinson to catch her looking out the window again. Mrs. Hutchinson was only in her sixties, but she’d sometimes seem to forget that was 2010 and not 1960 with her guidelines. Yet, it had taken Alyssa a while to realize that she wouldn’t even tolerate the mildest kind of nonsense, such as getting distracted by a windowpane when having to perform chores. Now that she finished washing her dishes, Alyssa put them to the side and grabbed some paper towels to dry them. “What do you think you’re doing?” Mrs. Hutchinson asked. Alyssa stopped. “I’m just—” “The last few times I was here, you left little bits of food on your dishes.” “But they were stuck.”
“Let me inspect them. Also, if something is rubbery, you have to wash it again.” “Why?” “Because clean dishes aren’t supposed to be rubbery. And boy, did you do such a sloppy job. Look at that stain on your sweater.” Alyssa looked down. “That looks like chocolate.” Alyssa blushed and arched her eyebrows. “Hey—it’s just water.” She covered the stain at the bottom of her sweater’s V-neck. But Mrs. Hutchinson waved her index finger. “Don’t you ‘hey’ me, Alyssa. That’s rude. In my days, kids respected their elders. We never would dare talk to them that way unless we didn’t mind them smacking our bottoms.” “Things change.” “Not when I’m here, they don’t. Now let me do my inspection.” Great—an inspection! How long would Mrs. Hutchinson take? She might spend a couple minutes or maybe twenty. Alyssa crossed her arms and tapped her foot. She wanted her break now. She wished to read, rest, do a small craft, like lanyards—anything but wait for Mrs. Hutchinson to finish her task. “Mrs. Hutchinson?” Alyssa asked. “Whatever you need to say, wait till I’m done,” she said. Alyssa sighed. She continued to watch Mrs. Hutchinson run her finger down the middle of the front of the dish. She then rubbed it back and forth. When she put it down and nodded, Alyssa figured out that the dish had nothing on it. Mrs. Hutchinson spent a few minutes of running her finger down the glass. She put it down and turned to Alyssa. “You’re good. Now what did you want to tell me?” “Um . . . if I tell you, can you not give me a hard time?” “Okay.” “There was writing on the window.” Mrs. Hutchinson pursed her lips and tilted her head. “Really?” “Yeah.” “Nonsense.” “No, really, it was there.” “There was nothing there when I came, and there’s nothing there right now. So don’t tell me stories.” “But it’s not a story.” “I don’t want to hear any more. Now it’s time for your next chore.” “Aw, but I wanted my break.” “Too bad. You have to go vacuum the living room.” Alyssa dragged her feet toward the living room and took the vacuum from the corner. She cleaned and thought about that writing as well as how Mrs. Hutchinson wouldn’t believe her. Would a nicer babysitter have believed her? Mrs. Hutchinson had watched her and Hailey for three years, and not once had she smiled or assisted with anything. After vacuuming the carpet for about five minutes, Alyssa decided that she had tidied the floor enough. So she stopped and put the vacuum away. “Hailey, you and Alyssa need to go get the mail now!” Mrs. Hutchinson called, facing the staircase. “Coming!” cried Hailey.
Another rule Uncle Bruce had placed on Alyssa and Hailey was they could only go outside together. He worried about people taking them or something, even though Alyssa would turn thirteen next month. But that rule had been placed because a few months ago, Uncle Bruce had heard about a seventeen-year-old boy who had been shot while skateboarding in his neighborhood. Violence could even happen here in Bursnell, New Jersey. Hailey and Alyssa headed to the closet and put their raincoats on until Mrs. Hutchinson said, “It stopped raining outside.” “Already?” asked Alyssa. “Yes.” Mrs. Hutchinson went to the bathroom. The girls walked outside toward the mailbox. Alyssa pulled the mail and headed back toward the door. But mud bubbled from the ground near the house. It piled up, looking like horse manure, and grew as more soil emerged. Alyssa dropped her jaw and stared at it. “Alyssa, what’s going on?” Hailey asked. “No idea,” said Alyssa. The dirt stopped piling up, but it continued to bubble, and the effects spread throughout the whole pile. The bubbles stopped popping up and down. Alyssa and Hailey gasped as they expanded. They kept their mouths open as the bubbles merged together, each one attached to another, forming a single bigger shape. Alyssa and Hailey stepped back as the now giant bubble swelled. And it . . . popped! Particles of exploding mud landed on the girls. They shrieked. The front door opened to reveal a glowering Mrs. Hutchinson. “What the heck have you two been doing?” “T-the mud . . . it e-exploded,” said Hailey. “Nonsense!” growled Mrs. Hutchinson. “Get inside!” The girls returned inside, pulling and wiping the mud out of their hair. Alyssa could spot the mud in her straight pale-blonde tresses, unlike Hailey, who likely needed more patience to search for globs in her elbow-length red locks. But Alyssa’s hair fell a few inches past her hips, so cleaning out the mud would take longer, even with the shorter layers in the front. “How could dirt explode?” Mrs. Hutchinson stomped. “I-I think it was magic!” exclaimed Alyssa. “There’s no such thing as magic!” screamed Mrs. Hutchinson. “Alyssa, you’re twelve years old. You’re too old to say things like that!” “But nothing else can make mud explode!” Alyssa said. “Mrs. Hutchinson, we swear it did!” whined Hailey. “Enough!” snapped Mrs. Hutchinson. “You and Hailey—go upstairs and take showers!” Alyssa followed Hailey up the stairs and heaved a sigh. How else would the mud have splattered all over them? Mrs. Hutchinson couldn’t have thought they’d play in the mud like small children. “Alyssa, can I shower first?” asked Hailey. “Sure,” said Alyssa. As Hailey strode into the bathroom, Alyssa walked into her room. She scratched more mud off her skinny jeans (the only jeans she’d worn ever since they’d come into style) and the back of her hand. She stood by her bed since she wanted to keep it clean. She considered the writing on the window and the exploding mud. Someone wanted magic to interfere with her life, but who, and how come?
Also, why hadn’t she ever seen wizardry before? Why would her parents and others tell her that it hadn’t existed? Did sorcery just start on earth? Had it hidden somewhere? There had to be some reason why no one had ever believed in it. Alyssa thought about the possibility that maybe magic might only interfere if she stayed here in her uncle’s house. Maybe if her godfather could arrange with his lawyer to let her move in with him, sorcery would hopefully leave her alone. However, unlike science, anything could occur with magic, which meant that it could follow her wherever she went. The sound produced by the bathroom’s running water ended, which let Alyssa know that Hailey had finished. Now she could have a turn. After about five minutes showering, Alyssa stepped out and headed back to her room. She put on leggings and a long shirt. But she gasped at something appearing out of nowhere on her bed. Now that had to have come from . . . magic. Approaching it, she saw that it was a folded piece of paper. She opened it and read it. Hello Alyssa McCarthy, You must be wondering about the writing on your window, the exploding mud, and the note that appeared here. Who was responsible for them? You’ll find out at some point. Anonymous
Anonymous? How dare someone create incidents and not say his or her name! Alyssa needed to know his or her identity in order to report him or her. She didn’t want strange, magical occurrences to keep happening. Regardless of that, now she had proof to Mrs. Hutchinson that the writing and exploding mud had occurred. Mrs. Hutchinson had seen her write before, and this looked nothing like hers. She handwrote in a half-print and half-script style. This, however, was pure print. Alyssa jogged down the stairs and carried the note. “Mrs. Hutchinson, I have something to show you.” “Not right now, Alyssa.” Mrs. Hutchinson left the kitchen. “You and Hailey have to go wash my car.” “But it’s quick.” “You can show me after you’re done with my car.” Mrs. Hutchinson turned to Hailey, who emptied the dishwasher and put dishes away. “Are you almost done?” “I think so,” said Hailey. “How many dishes do you have left?” asked Mrs. Hutchinson. “Uh . . .” Hailey looked at the top rack. “Four.” “Okay, hurry up.” Mrs. Hutchinson turned to Alyssa. “Why don’t you go put that piece of paper away?” “But this is what I need to show you.” “Do I have to repeat what I said before?” “But—” “Alyssa, do as you’re told.” Mrs. Hutchinson pointed to the staircase. Alyssa sighed. This note contained so much crucial information. Only that paper itself had evidence to show that those incidents had occurred.
After putting the note back in her room, Alyssa headed down the stairs and walked with Hailey toward the garage. The two grabbed sponges, buckets, and soap for washing cars. They filled the buckets with water and scrubbed Mrs. Hutchinson’s car. “I wish we had another babysitter,” muttered Alyssa. “What was on the piece of paper?” asked Hailey. Alyssa told her. “Who wrote it?” “There was no name on it. Just ‘anonymous.’” A girl whistling turned Alyssa’s attention away from the car. She leaned her head toward the sidewalk and saw her friend from grade school, Madison Jennings, riding her scooter. “Hi, Alyssa,” said Madison. The wind blew her long dark-brown waves across her face. She stopped at Alyssa’s driveway, and her hair went limp. Hailey and Alyssa ran up to greet her and ask how she’d been. “I just moved onto Draco Drive a few days ago,” Madison referred to a road off Orion Street. “So how do you like the middle school?” asked Alyssa. “Oh, I go to Catholic school now,” said Madison. “What about you?” “Hailey and I are homeschooled now,” said Alyssa. “I never got to tell you.” “That’s okay,” said Madison. “So you guys want to come over to my house on Saturday?” “What time?” asked Alyssa. “I’ll ask my mom and let you know,” said Madison. “Okay, bye, guys. Nice seeing you again.” She rode back in the direction she’d come from as Hailey and Alyssa waved goodbye to her. After washing the car for another ten minutes, Alyssa and Hailey cleaned up and walked back inside. A snore suggested to Alyssa that Mrs. Hutchinson slept. Huh? She never napped while babysitting. Alyssa strode toward the living room and saw Mrs. Hutchinson asleep on one of the couches. Hailey followed her. “Why is Mrs. Hutchinson sleeping?” “I don’t know,” said Alyssa. “Can you show me the note?” Alyssa nodded and led her up the stairs. She opened her door but gasped at what she saw. The note that she’d left on her bed was gone. “Where’s the note?” asked Hailey. “It was right there,” Alyssa pointed to the bed. But another piece of paper appeared onto the mattress. Alyssa picked it up and read it.
Hello again, Alyssa,
I have put your babysitter to sleep to reveal magic to you. You’ll find out why she is sleeping later. Anonymous
“Not again,” mumbled Alyssa. “Why won’t they say their name?” She showed the note to Hailey. “Let’s go call my dad before anything happens,” said Hailey.
How much worse could this get? Alyssa thought as she followed Hailey down the stairs.
About the Author
Sunayna Prasad has published a few books between her late teens and her mid-twenties. She has won a Pacific Book Review Award for her novel, Wizardry Goes Wild, which will return as a new edition, like From Frights to Flaws. Sunayna also has a blog on different creative and entertaining topics, including writing and fiction. It is called “Sunayna Prasad’s Blog”.
Aside from writing, Sunayna also likes to cook, do art, and watch videos online. She has graduated from college in May 2017 and is looking to continue more writing as well as hold a graphic design job soon. Sunayna lives on Long Island, NY.
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Title: High Stakes
Author: Casey L. Bond
Genre: YA PNR, Dystopian/SciFi
Editor: Stacy Sanford/ The Girl with the Red Pen
Cover Designer, Photog & Trailer Made By: Melissa Stevens/ The Illustrated Author Design Services
Model: Breanna Ellis
Blurb: Her name is Eve, and she was aptly named. The first female accepted into the Asset program, she was the first to rise to the top. She would also be the first woman to travel back in time, assigned with one target in mind: Enoch â one of the first vampires to walk the earth. Her mission was simple: Land, shove her stake through Enochâs black heart, run to safety, and jump off something really high so she could warp back home and carve out the life sheâs always wanted.
The only problem was that time travel was more complicated than anyone realized. She was supposed to travel back seven days, but instead, landed in the middle of England in the year 1348, during the time of the Black Plague.
Enoch never kept his true nature a secret. As a wealthy landowner, he protected and provided for the people under his care, and in exchange, they were more than willing to provide the scant amounts of blood he needed to survive. When a strange young woman showed up at his gate in the midst of the plague and then fell ill, he nursed her back to health.
Heâd never met anyone like Eve. She was intelligent and witty, and the most beautiful creature heâd ever laid eyes upon. And, he learned, the most dangerous.
You can find more information about Bondâs books via the following links:
Website: www.authorcaseybond.com Facebook: www.facebook.com/authorcaseybond Twitter: https://twitter.com/authorcaseybond Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7212486.Casey_L_Bond Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/caseyb007 Amazon: http://amzn.to/1PmE0pg
Bond-Tourage: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1032678336804562/
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/gcAu9v
Literary / YA (older teen)
Publisher: Cur Dog Press
Published Date: February 7, 2019
Seventeen year old Kelly is in a spartan boarding school in northern Idaho, sent away for drugs—as planned. Her little brother Sammy is left home in Missouri, getting ready for high school. He is twitchy, quick, writes dark poetry and longs to play football. He’s also got a nose for trouble, and Kelly has left a sordid truckload. Her sadistic ex is involved, so is one twisted teacher, and so is the object of Sammy’s crush. He’s in deep, and Kelly’s warnings fall flat, and the consequences will be dire.
About the Author
After an adolescence survived in the Midwest and a few obligatory years at the university, Idyllwild Eliot embarked on a journey of internal and external exploration. With stints in Houston, Louisiana, and even Thailand, where she studied yoga, Ms. Eliot has become a semi-professional vagabond. Most recently (at the time of publication) she has been experiencing the North American west. If not sipping a cocktail on a deck in the northern Rockies, she might be found bodysurfing in Southern California, watching Bald Eagles in Montana, or in some other picturesque town hiking, meditating, or sitting with her laptop open and, at its side, a stout mug of black coffee. Well Below Heaven is her debut.
Title: Extra Innings
Author: Lynn Stevens
Genre: YA Sports Romance
Cover Designer: Najla Qamber Designs
Publisher: Siren Press
Publication Date: September 18th, 2018
Hosted by: Lady Amberâs PR
Blurb: Victoria Hudson is a seventeen-year-old with a passion for baseball. When her grandmother buys a new house in the city, Vic discovers a way to play the game for the first time since getting kicked out of little league. She just has to move in with her hippie grandmother and make sure her father, a U.S. Senator and prospective Presidential candidate, doesnât find out what sheâs up to over the summer break.
After proving her abilities on the field, she catches the attention of Daniel Cho, the teamâs catcher. Everything seems to be falling apart, and yet falling into place. Vic settles into a life sheâs always wanted, that of a normal teenage girl. But Victoria Hudson is anything but normal. Once the press learns that the potential First Daughter is crossing the gender line to play baseball, Vic is thrust back into the spotlight and making headlines. The life she tries so hard to get away from simply wonât leave her alone.
Buy Link:
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2vLNHxW
Lynn Stevens flunked out of college writing her first novel. Yes, she still has it and no, you can't read it. Surprisingly, she graduated with honors at her third school. A former farm girl turned city slicker turned suburbanite, Lynn lives in the Midwest where she drinks coffee and sips tea when she's out of coffee. Sheâs the author of Full Count and Game On..
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Top of the 1st
Acid waved in my stomach, reaching for the peak of my throat.
Stop it. You can do this. Just go at it like you own the place. Stride up to the coach like Mom does when sheâs on the donation hunt.
The fields sat at the southern end of Jackson Memorial Park: one for softball, one for baseball. I had parked on the baseball side by a beat-up orange truck. The boys were already there, tossing balls and joking loud enough that I heard them through the closed windows of my car. Thankfully, the softball field was empty. Taking a deep breath, I climbed out of the car, pulling my equipment from the backseat.
Maybe it was my BMW, or maybe it was me, but the only sound I heard as I stalked toward the field were birds chirping to one another. No doubt the guys recognized a girl when they saw one. Mother Nature blessed me a bit too much in the boob department for anybody to mistake me as a boy.
I strode onto the soft dirt of the field and straight toward the older man with the clipboard. Coach Bernie Strauss stared back at me. He was easily six-eight with tree trunk legs and arms that UFC fighters would die for. He looked more like a Marine Corps drill instructor than a summer league baseball coach. I totally wanted to test him by shouting âSemper Fi.â
I stopped in front of him, waiting for what I knew was coming.
âSoftball practice ended about twenty minutes ago.â He sounded like he ate gravel for breakfast.
âIâm not here to play softball, Coach.â I straightened my back and channeled my motherâs unbending confidence. âIâm here to help you win the city championship this year.â
No one laughed like I expected. So I exhaled, relaxed. Big mistake.
âGet off my field. I ainât got time for this,â he shouted loud enough that birds scattered from a nearby tree. Coach Strauss turned his back to me and continued to bark at the team. âIf you donât get back to practice, youâll be running laps in three ⦠two â¦â His slight Texan accent made the âyouâsâ sound like âyaâsâ.
The boys started throwing and stretching again, but they didnât stop watching us.
âCoach ââ I began.
âI ainât your coach.â
I lost my cool, just like my father. âThis is bullcrap. Look at your registration sheet.â He didnât, so I snatched the clipboard from him and pointed. âSee the name Vic Hudson? Well, thatâs me. I paid to play. And I fully intend to. It isnât against the rules.â
Coach ripped the clipboard from my fingers and flipped to another page. I waited. He read. I tapped my foot. Thatâs not nearly as dramatic on a dirt infield. The boys stopped warming up again.
He looked me up and down. âFine. Iâll give you a shot, Hudson. You suck and youâre gone.â
âI can deal with that.â
âGet out there.â He pointed at a tall, super skinny boy. âDelvin, warm her up.â
I tossed my bag into the dugout and jogged onto the field. It didnât take me long to figure out why Coach Strauss told Delvin to warm up with me. He kicked his leg like a pitcher and tossed a pretty nasty fastball. If I had to guess, he could hit ninety from the mound on a good day. It wouldâve been stupid if I said anything, even though every ball he threw at me stung my fingers like tiny pricks of a hundred safety pins. I didnât even try to throw my hardest. I warmed up like it was any other day.
Then he began stepping back. One step here, then another.
Idiot.
I threw hard and high to make my point. Delvin had to reach to get it. He may throw harder, but I can throw farther.
âAlrighâ, get in here,â Coach yelled. He raised his eyes at Delvin, who shrugged. âI know most of you from last year. We only got two potential newbies. Oneâs a girl. Anyone got a problem with that?â
If they did, they sure as hell werenât going to tell Coach Strauss.
âGood. I expect you to treat her like youâd treat anybody else.â He looked at me and softened his tone. âWhat position do you play, honey?â
âThird.â I glared at him. He smirked then turned back to the team. Before he could open his mouth, I said, âAnd Iâm not your honey.â
His head snapped back like heâd taken a right hook to the cheek. âExcuse me?â
I pointed at Delvin. âDo you call him âhoneyâ?â
Delvinâs cheeks glowed light pink with either rage or embarrassment. I didnât know which and really didnât care.
Coach didnât answer me though. His chin grew beet red, which crept up his cheeks all the way to his pale yellow crew cut. Steam came out of every clogged pore on his face as he yelled, âEverybody at third. Jayden, get your ass to first.â He sneered at me and I expected to get kicked off the field. âWeâre going to field some grounders and see who handles them best. Iâll hit you three then rotate. Hudson, ladies first.â
Crap. Me and my big mouth. Heâs going to either hit me a line drive at a hundred miles an hour or make me go so far out of range that I make an ass of myself.
I jogged to third and dug my cleats into the stubborn dirt. The rest of the guys lined up along the fence, amused grins matching Straussâs own jack-o-lantern expression. Coach tossed the ball into the air.
Crack.
I jumped spread eagle and dropped my glove between my legs, catching the line drive. I came down ready to throw to first, but Jayden wasnât on the bag. He stood three steps off with his mouth open. Smiling, I rolled the ball back to home plate.
Coach didnât give me time to get back into position when he hit a grounder to my left. In a game, the shortstop wouldâve played it, but this was a different type of game. I dove and knocked it down. My throw to first was in the dirt, but I was on my butt when I whipped it across the infield. That shouldnât be held against me. It was an almost impossible play.
The last ball went up the line. I hustled and wouldâve had it clean until it hit the bag. It took a nasty bounce that was nearly out of reach. I jumped and brought it down barehanded, throwing to first off balance as I fell into foul territory.
I stood up without looking to see if Jayden caught it and walked to the fence to wait for my next turn. The guys gawked at me as I leaned against the fence, ignoring them. Iâd made my point. I could field. My next time up, Coach hit some routine grounders.
After rotating through every infield position, it was time for batting practice.
âYouâre up,â Coach announced as he pointed his chunky finger my way. âDelvin, pitch to her.â
While Delvin threw some warm up tosses, I pulled my large batting gloves on, stretching them over my long fingers. The shin guard came loose as I walked to the plate, but I didnât dare adjust it. Not yet anyway. Iâm a switch hitter in softball but more natural from the right side. So thatâs where I started when I stepped into the box. I wasnât entirely certain I could hit a fastball from the left anyway.
Delvin dug at the rubber. I did the same at the plate. Kicked some rocks out from under my right foot. Buried my left foot in the front of the box. Right arm cocked at a ninety degree angle, my bat perched above my shoulder, I waited. A trickle of sweat ran down my cheek. This felt more like a playoff game than a practice.
My swing was graceful as I rocked the fastball over Jayden. He stretched, revealing his dark walnut skin. His long braids smacked his back as he dropped to the ground. Jayden could jump for a big guy.
âNice,â Coach said.
The Asian boy behind the plate whistled low and said, âSweet.â
Delvin tossed a few more pitches before Coach snapped at me to get to third. I didnât hesitate, grabbing my glove and hustling onto the field.
âGet in the dugout,â Coach commanded after everyone had hit.
I stood at the end of the bench, waiting for the axe to drop. Iâd played well enough to warrant sticking around, but I was still lacking the mandatory testosterone. If Coach told me to go, I would. It was his team and I wasnât about to make things worse by throwing an epic hissy.
âWe got a tough schedule this year. Last year, the Rebels kicked our ass to take the district. Well, half those boys canât play no more. Hell, weâre missing three of our own. Itâs time we take our game to the next level. The Rebels need to rebuild more than we do. We can take âem. Now get outta here. Iâll see you tomorrow.â He glanced my way. âAll of you.â
I grabbed my gear and practically bounced out of the dugout when Coach called me and Shane Anders back.
Shane was short, plump, and had a face pot-marked by zits and craters. Something told me that his dad made him play to get him out of the basement. Coach Strauss towered over him. Shane tremored a little.
âAlright. Vic, whatâs your real name?â
âVic.â
He sighed, sending a poof of peppermint my way that didnât conceal his bad breath. It smelled like he didnât bother to brush his teeth in the morning. Ever. âDonât bullshit me, girl.â
âIâm not, Coach. Vicâs short for Victoria.â
He stared at me and shook his head. âFine. Hereâs the drill. We practice every day at the same time, at the same place until the first game. Ainât hard to remember. No excuses for tardiness or missinâ a game. Miss a practice, you donât play the next game. Bring your own equipment. Forget your glove or your cleats, you donât play.
âGames start next week. Your jersey will be clean. If it ainât, you ainât playinâ. We play on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays for six weeks. Team that wins their district plays in the city championship tourney. I donât know nothinâ about either one of you, but there are a couple of boys here that could move on to college ball. Scouts look at summer programs, too, especially if theyâre already interested in a player. Neither one of you is goinâ to play baseball at the next level. I just ask that you donât screw it up for everyone else.
âNow get out of here. Todayâs practice was a short one. Tomorrowâs not gonna be this easy.â
Shane took off in a hurry. It was obvious he was scared of Coach. We watched him run to a small pickup truck and scamper in.
âCan I ask you something, Vic?â Coach crossed his arms and glared at me.
âYeah, sure.â
âWhyâre you here?â He nodded toward the empty softball field. âYou could be playinâ ball over there. Tell me the truth.â
I knew the question was coming, but I didnât expect any sincerity behind it. âSoftball isnât baseball, Coach. It may seem similar, but it isnât the same. I wanted to play ball one more time. Thatâs all.â
He nodded, then turned away from me and started gathering his bats.
âAm I really on the team?â I asked. I needed absolute confirmation.
âYeah, got no choice.â He straightened up and smiled at me. âLooked at the regs. Doesnât say this team is for boys sixteen to seventeen. Just says players. But you already knew that, didnât you?â
I smiled. Of course I did. âSee you tomorrow, Coach Strauss.â
He grunted and I took off to my car, trying not to skip like a ten-year-old.
Title: Melting Ice
Author: Ginger Sharp
Genre: Sports Romance
Cover Designer: Michael Sharp
Editor: Kathy Krick
Publication Date: December 30th, 2018
Hosted by: Lady Amberâs PR
Kris OâNeil is a rookie hockey player with a brooding sized chip on his shoulder about life, love, and women. Lexi Morgan is a trusting girl who expects the best out of everyone and is slowly becoming disillusioned about romance and men. When these two meet, sparks fly, tempers flare, and both learn to deal with the baggage in their mutual lives. Melting Ice is a modern day story about how opposites attract regardless of their pasts and present situations. Can Kris and Lexi prove that love can always find a way, or will they lose each other in the stresses of life.
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Amazon: https://amzn.to/2VC5ran
Ginger Sharp resides in New Jersey. For many years she worked in the information technology field. She has a love for traveling to other countries. Ginger is an avid supporter of animal welfare. Her first book, "Lost Her," made its debut in 2013 on Amazon, which is followed by many other steamy adult romance novels. For more information on the author and the Lost, Beauty, and Parker's Legacy series, visit gingersharp.us and follow Ginger Sharp Facebook: facebook.com/GingerSharpAuthor For a listing of her current works in progress, please visit her at gingersharp.us
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Facebook: www.facebook.com/GingerSharpAuthor
Website: http://gingersharp.us
Twitter: https://twitter.com/GingerSharp12
Buy Links:
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2VC5ran
Drama, Dramatic Comedy, Women's Fiction
Publisher: Moon Leaf Publishing
Published: January 2018
Before We Were Perfect has been adapted into an award-winning screenplay titled Perfectly Normal in Flagstaff. The screenplay won Best Feature Script in the 2018 Top Indie Film Awards and a 2018 Silver Screen award in the Nevada International Film Festival.
Inspired by true events; Before We Were Perfect is a dramatic comedy about the Havreaux family and their ragin' Cajun uncle. Julz Havreaux is a beautiful young woman with imperfections who meets an imperfect handsome wounded warrior turned writer. Through comedic mishaps and drama, they discover that in spite of their imperfections they are perfect together. Contains adult themes, intense drama, sensuality, humor, and love.
About the Author
Multiple award-winning Author: S.D. Moore writes in spite of being a brain-damaged, heart damaged Air Force veteran who also battles Lupus. She is the author of the award-winning screenplay, Perfectly Normal in Flagstaff which won a 2018 Silver Screen award in the Nevada International Film Festival. S.D. is also the author of Readers' Favorite 2017 International Gold Medal (1st place) winning horror novel Wicked Prayers, the award-winning Adventures of PJ and Split Pea and the workbook Basics to Business: Minding Your Business with Excel. She is also a patented inventor of The Portable Hot Sink System; has an ABD towards a Doctorate of Education, holds dual master's degrees in management and human resources development.
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