This one won stuff, and I think it was well deserving! Also, I have Lee Ann here and we talk about kissing so you might want to keep reading.
The book is See by Lee Ann Ward a YA Paranormal voted The TBR Pile Review Site’s Book of the Year for 2017.
Carlie Henson is pretty, popular, and an All-American girl. She has a gorgeous boyfriend and a mother who lives to keep her safe. Probably because everyone is drawn to Carlie…including the murderers she has the ability to identify when she looks in the eyes of their victims.
Keeping Carlie’s secret is pretty simple when all she has to do is avoid dead people. But when a cheerleader at her high school is murdered and the killer seems to have gotten away with it, Carlie knows what she has to do. With the help of her boyfriend, Dillon, she devises a plan to see what she must, no matter her personal safety.
But when Dillon is the one who’s injured in the showdown with the killer, Carlie vows to never help anyone again…until the next young woman attacked is her best friend, Jenna.
And here’s Lee Ann. She is an award-winning fiction author with a background in journalism and mass communications. She is also the former Senior Editor of Champagne Books. Her love of books started at the age of three, and she’s been addicted ever since. She’s published six novels with her seventh and eighth on the way (SEE a YA paranormal by Evernight Teen in June 2017 and GLIMPSES OF WILDERNESS a YA romance by Inkspell Publishing in December 2017) and has written several more. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, singing, baking designer cakes, bowling and dreaming. She’s married to Joe (who also happens to be her publicist) and they have 4 sons whom they adore, and a granddaughter who is the love of their life. They make their home in the small fishing community of Bayou La Batre, Alabama. and now, Let’s Talk About Kissing!
One of my favorite things about writing YA romance is the kissing! I mean, who doesn’t love a good kissing scene, am I right? It’s the moment we anticipate most after meeting the heroine and hero in the new story we’re reading. My Anna and Robert in GLIMPSES OF WILDERNESS share some delicious kissing scenes…quite steamy, and well worth the wait! But the actual sweetness of kissing sometimes gets lost in the translation, and that’s a shame. I always promise myself as a writer to remember the innocence of that first kiss. This is one of my favorite blog posts from about a year ago, and I want to share it with you. Long live the newness of kissing…
Just finished writing a “kissing” scene this morning, and thought I would share something with you. I am a huge fan of Peter Pan (the book, not only the Disney movie that everyone associates Peter Pan with), because there is such beauty in innocence. One of my favorite lines from the book is spoken by Peter, and it is this, “You know that place between sleep and awake, the place where you can still remember dreaming? That’s where I’ll always love you. That’s where I’ll be waiting.”
I also adore the “kissing” scene between Peter and Wendy…
“I think it’s perfectly sweet of you,” she declared, “and I’ll get up again,” and she sat with him on the side of the bed. She also said she would give him a kiss if he liked, but Peter did not know what she meant, and he held out his hand expectantly.
“Surely you know what a kiss is?” she asked, aghast.
“I shall know when you give it to me,” he replied stiffly, and not to hurt his feelings she gave him a thimble.
“Now,” said he, “shall I give you a kiss?” and she replied with a slight primness, “If you please.” She made herself rather cheap by inclining her face toward him, but he merely dropped an acorn button into her hand, so she slowly returned her face to where it had been before, and said nicely that she would wear his kiss on the chain around her neck. It was lucky that she did put it on that chain, for it was afterwards to save her life.
The sweetest kissing scene ever written, in my opinion! So, remember people, sometimes kisses are thimbles, and sometimes they’re acorn buttons. And they might just save your life…
Find Lee Ann here:
I was five and a half when I realized I could see him. I was five and a half, two days, and six hours when I realized he could see me too.
There was nothing extraordinary about that night. Mom had long put me to bed, and she and Dad were watching an unsolved cold case show on TV. By the time I’d made my way downstairs for an unnecessary drink of water, a picture of a murdered lady was flashing on the screen. No one knew who’d killed her, and the cops had looked for the murderer for several years and given up.
“That’s such a shame,” my dad had said. He was still around then.
“Yeah, it is.” Mom’s words were dragging and nonchalant, as if she were reacting to some lame laundry detergent commercial or something.
But not me. There I stood in my Belle Disney Princess nightgown, my gaze transfixed on the television. I couldn’t move—couldn’t look away. Something about the image of that dead woman struck a chord—her lifeless body and wide, opened eyes.
All I could do was scream. “I know who killed her!” I remember the panic, the way it made my stomach ache and my skin crawl. “I know who did it! I can see his face!”
“Carlie.” Dad picked me up, the exasperation in his voice as clear to me now as it had been ten years ago. “What are you doing out of bed? This is way too scary for you to be watching.”
I was crying so hard my nose was running. “Daddy, I know who killed her! I can see him! I really can!”
Mom turned off the TV and took me from Dad. The puzzled look she threw him let me know she was at least listening to my wild claim, and to this day I’m grateful for her next move.
“Do you want Mommy to draw a picture of the face you’re seeing, sweet girl? Would that make you feel better?”
“Linda, what the hell are you doing? Don’t encourage her.” Dad was pissed at me to be up that late. He was always such a tight ass about things like bedtime.
“It might help her,” Mom insisted. “Something obviously has her freaked out, Patrick. I’m getting my sketchbook.”
It’s the one time I was actually glad that my mom’s a sketch artist for the Pensacola Police Department’s Homicide Division. People describing perps to her so she can draw them never bothered me. But the photos of decomposed bodies—the ones of unidentified missing persons that she has to create faces for—totally creeps me out.
Mom lit a lavender candle to help me relax and set me on her knee. “Go ahead, honey. Tell me what the man looks like.”
One hour and three holy shits from Dad later, I’d described a killer’s face, and Mom had him on paper. I was sure of it. But my parents were convinced I was simply spooked from seeing the dead lady on that show.
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