Looking for the Imagination Sparks Blogfest? My post is here, click to see how music can inspire your writing...
First the proof copy turned up. And I fell in love. The cover is absolutely gorgeous, and that's all thanks to bookcovercafe.com - fantastic team there. Even the spine has special details...
And now I have boxes and boxes of books, all ready to distribute!
The paperback is not yet available online, but it will be very very soon.
In the meantime, here's a sneak extract...
Jessica Jones. We shared a maths and science class, but that’s all we had in common. Jessica always had swarms of friends around her, and her happy voice twittered along the school halls.
Yass was a close-knit country town and I was still an outsider. I felt stumpy and plain next to the tall blond girl.
‘Oh, uh, hi,’ I mumbled. Why are you here?
I kicked at the ground with my shiny black patent shoe. My toes hurt and I wished I could go barefoot.
‘Are you a junior handler too?’ Jessica furrowed her brow as if the idea was puzzling.
My stomach sank. Jessica would be competing against me. I would be pathetic, and everyone at school would hear how hopeless I was.
‘Uh-huh,’ I said.
‘I haven’t seen you here before. I guess you’re new at showing. I’ve been handling dogs since I was seven.’ She grinned.
‘This is my first.’
Spade pulled. Tug-tug. He wanted out of there too.
‘Last year I was regional junior handler,’ Jessica flicked back her curls and smoothed her hot-pink blazer. ‘This time I’m aiming for junior handler of the year, and I’ve got a good start already.’
She checked out my outfit, cringed and slowly shook her head.
‘You’ve already missed the first three shows of the season. That’s going to put you behind.’
‘Your dog is pretty,’ I said. And she was. The Afghan hound’s golden fur shone almost as much as Jessica’s own perfectly formed curls.
I reached up and shoved my stubborn, loose string of mousy brown hair behind my ear.
‘Oh, Sheeba’s not mine,’ said Jessica. ‘I just borrow her for the show. The owners trust me because I’m an experienced handler.’
Sheeba gave me an aloof stare.
My cheeks burned. ‘I have to walk Spade now.’
Jessica furrowed her brow, this time at my dog.
‘You’re going to handle him? Oh well, never mind, the judges will be looking at you mostly, not the dog.’
‘Yeah, thanks.’ I strode away, Spade in tow.
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