Did someone say contest? Well, I'll be . . . I LOVE contests! Yes I do!

Brenda Drake is hosting Aunt B's Book Club Contest over at her site. You can check it out here or here for further details. But in essence, the contest will be judged by a group of teen girls who love to read YA. Teen girls--THAT'S MY INTENDED AUDIENCE. I write YA, so this sounds kinda great to me.

And of course, what's a contest without prizes? There will be a prize consisting of a ten page manuscript critique plus synopsis critique by agent intern/editor/cover art designer/writer extraordinaire--Cassandra Marshall. That sounds pretty cool. A ten page critique and synopsis help would be very helpful. Yes it would.

But before I email my entry, I would love to run it by you all to make sure it's at top notch performance--I don't want to look like a fool. That would suck. So take a look and tell me what you think. I can handle it. I'm tough (sorta).

Okay, I'm having trouble deciding which one to do. So I'm posting both options, Desert Rice and Wanted: Dead or Undead. Let me know which one sound better. Thanks a bunch!

Title: Desert Rice
Genre: YA Contemporary
Pitch (35 words or less): Samantha Jean Haggert isn’t thrilled with hiding the fact she’s a twelve-year-old girl, but her older brother, Jacob, will do anything to keep Sam safe from male attention and hidden from the law.
Excerpt (250 words or less):

“Grab ‘er feet!”

Grabbing her feet meant I had to touch her and that was the last thing I wanted to do.

“Don’t just stand there.” Jacob bent over and took hold of her by the shoulders. “I can’t do this on my own.”

I shook my head. The stench was awful and it made me gag. Pulling the collar of my shirt over my nose barely diffused the smell.

Jacob stood, put his hands on his hips and stared me down. “Sam, there’s no other way. You have to help me. Just grab ‘er feet so we can get this over with.”

The idea of touching a dead body scared me and I shook my head once more.

“So you want to leave her here?” He swung his arm wide. I flinched, but my brother wasn’t trying to hit me, only emphasize his point. He needed help, and there was no one else to give it to him but me—his little sister. “Where people can see and the wild dogs might get at her? Is that what you want?”

No, I didn’t want that. Of course, I didn’t want that. I wasn’t that cruel, but I still didn’t want to touch her. I didn’t care that she was my momma. It frightened me. I’d never been this close to death before.  What would it feel like to touch a dead person? Would she be as stiff as a board? What if the sheet fell off her face and I saw her staring right at me?

OR

Title: WANTED: Dead or Undead
Genre: YA Western Romance with a bit of zombie mayhem for fun
Pitch (35 words or less): To join “Red’s” posse, Trace has to agree to her terms: no names, no questions, and he must swear if he gets bit, he can’t cry or beg for mercy when she severs his brain stem.
Excerpt (250 words or less):

“What’s wrong with Pa?”

            No one had to tell her that something was seriously wrong. Elisabeth could see it, smell it, even taste it. The fetid air clung to her lips and tongue nearly gagging her. She swiped at her mouth with the back of her sleeve trying to erase it from her senses, but it was no use. Rot combined with a syrupy sweetness filled every inch in the small two-room cabin.

            “It’s nothing to worry about.” Her ma dipped the washcloth in the tin bowl and rung out the extra water before bathing her husband’s pallid face. “Go put your brothers back to bed, then fetch more water.”

            Elisabeth didn’t move from where she stood watching just outside the bedroom door. She couldn’t. She was too frightened, believing that if she left, for even a moment, death would seep through the cracks and take her father. Her younger brothers stood behind her, peering from behind her skirts, just as frightened as she was, but too afraid to move either.

“Is he gonna die?” She didn’t want to ask, but looking at her pa contorted in pain and suffering in agony, she couldn’t imagine any other outcome but death. She almost willed it for him—almost.


Kind of interesting that both stories start out with yucky smells--death and near death. Weird. So which one do you like better? Or do they both suck? Your help is much appreciated. Thanks in advance.  

I put together a fun little contest to see how well you knew your cowboy/western slang terms. You may be asking why, why would she do such a weird thing?

My reason, I'm writing a western romance novel (with a scattering of zombie mayhem for fun and added tension) and I wanted to make my novel as genuinely authentic to the times as I could (minus the zombie feature, of course).

First, the answers:

1)      Adam’s Ale: Water
2)      Milestonemonger: Someone who likes to roam    
3)      Dough Belly: The cook
4)      Paintin’ his nose: Getting drunk
5)      Get the mitten:To be rejected by a lover
6)      Texas Cakewalk: A hanging
7)      Windies: Tall Tales
8)      Rod: A revolver
9)      Fice: A worthless dog or mongrel
10)   Amputate your timber: Put down your rifle
11)   Doxology Works: A church
12)   Belly Wash: Weak Coffee
13)   Hay Seed:A derogatory term for  a farmer
14)   Rot Gut: Bad liquor
15)   Sheepherders Delight:Cheap whiskey
16)   Texas Butter: Gravy made with flour, hot water, and fried steak grease
17)   Fiddle: A horse's head
18)   Horn: A glass of liquor
19)   Roostered (I use this one in my book): To get drunk
20)   Honey-Fogle: To swindle

And now for the winner . . . drum roll, please . . .

TOMBSTONE

What a fittin' name for such a contest. Interesting to say the least. He got the most correct (eight correct). Way to go!!

Thanks ya'll for participating. Hope you had fun!

Click the play button after a few seconds to get you in the country mood.

I’ve always said (okay, not really but I’m saying it now) that in another time and place, I could have been a cowgirl. I love me some cowboy fodder and every once in awhile I listen to country music. As I sing, I have been known to throw in some southern twang. I can sound genuinely hick.

I love horses. They’re just like big ol’ puppy dogs to me. In another time and place, I’d own several—a Red Dun, a Black Stallion, a Strawberry Roan, and maybe even a Dapple Gray. Oh, and a miniature horse too. Just for fun.

I’d slap on my cowgirl hat, strap on my chaps, and mosey on down the trail into the glowing sunset. Can’t you just hear the clippity-clop of the horse hooves on the trail, the jingle-jangle of my spurs, and the wind rustling through the tumbleweeds? Giddy up, Widow Maker, giddy up.

Yep, I’d make a mighty fine cowgirl and if you say otherwise, be prepared to meet my Quickdraws. (Just kiddin’. I don’t own no Quickdraws. But I do have a Nerf gun and darts).

Writing my zombie western romance novel has been a hoot—writing the twang and slang of the wild, wild west cracks me up.  And, in my research, I found some wonderful resources to help me to decipher our normal day verbiage into western idioms.

There was a point in which my male MC dresses up kind of fancy and I wanted to say something more than just, “He looked nice in his fancy clothes.” (That’s telling not showing by the way, and I would NEVER do that). I was able to find a website that said fancy clothes were called, “Best Bib and Tucker.” Oh, I snatched that up. That’s a good phrase right there. And, back in those days, a handsome man was called a Thoroughbred. That’s nice. So what the heck, I implemented the two. It worked.

Of course, I have to be careful not to add too many western phrases into my novel. It could come off over bearing and creepy. Besides, a few are impossible to understand. Someone would read it and be like, “What the heck?” But a few here and there to provide a more western feel and make it more authentic is mighty fine by me.

So I thought it would be fun to give you a few slang terms and see how well you do in defining them. Oh, let’s make it a contest! Yeah, that would be fun!

First, we need RULES (I’m making this up as I go here):

1)      Follow my blog. Just click on the join this site button. So easy to do.

2)      No cheating. No looking it up online. Okay, you can look it up online, but it would be a lot more fun if you didn’t.

3)      Leave your guesses in the comment section.

4)      The one who gets the most right, wins. (In case of multiple winners, a name will be drawn from a hat—a ten gallon cowboy hat).

5)      If you tweet this (and why wouldn’t you?), just tell me you did, I’ll believe you and then TWO of your wrong answers will be made right. Like extra credit.

6)      Make sure to include your email so I can get a hold of you.

7)      That’s all of the rules I can think of. No point to make this technical. This is just something dumb, yet fun to do.

PRIZES: You have to have prizes. Hmm…not sure what kind of prize to offer. It should be something cowboy related, right? If I sent you a bottle of lotion, that would be weird. Shoot. I don’t know.

Okay, okay. I think I got it. How about a gift card for you and a friend to go to a movie theater in your area to see “COWBOYS vs. ALIENS.”  Not quite zombie, but pretty darn interesting none-the-less OR a Barnes and Noble gift card if you’re just not that into cowboys (Shame on you. Shame. Shame).

Here we go (I gotta make this hard):

1)      Adam’s Ale

2)      Milestonemonger

3)      Dough Belly

4)      Paintin’ his nose

5)      Get the mitten

6)      Texas Cakewalk

7)      Windies

8)      Rod

9)      Fice

10)   Amputate your timber

11)   Doxology Works

12)   Belly Wash

13)   Hay Seed

14)   Rot Gut

15)   Sheepherders Delight

16)   Texas Butter

17)   Fiddle

18)   Horn

19)   Roostered (I use this one in my book)

20)   Honey-Fogle

Good Luck ya’ll. I’ll post the answers this Friday, May 20th along with the winnerest winner of this here contest.

I just want to say a great big THANK YOU to all my followers! 

First impressions are everything. Whether we're sizing up our blind date (Oh, my gosh. He looks likes George Costanza!) or trying to decipher if our manuscripts have the "IT" factor. Kristina Fugate is hosting a blogfest (see button above) to helps us find if we have "WOW" in our first 550 words. It's not too late to sign up. It's actually rather easy. What do you get for participating?  A chance at a $20 Amazon Gift Card AND you will hopefully receive some very helpful feedback.

If you need to email me, check out my About Me (Sorry, stupid linking thing on weebly isn't working. So  just go to the very top and click it) tab above or click over there--->. Email will be listed there. Thanks.

Here's my entry:

                                                         WANTED: DEAD OR UNDEAD

                                                                         Chapter 1

                                                                          Marked

The zombie saved his life. Normally, they don’t—it wasn’t within their nature—but this one did, and for that, Trace was grateful. 

            Because had that flesh-eating cowboy not limped its way into the saloon, causing a much-needed distraction, Trace was certain he’d be wearing a bullet between the eyes. The colt-peacemaker, cocked and ready, had not only marked him a liar and a cheat, but a dead man as well. 

            Trace didn’t view himself as a cheat. A liar maybe, but a cheat never, and he’d argue any man who thought otherwise. What one man defined as swindling, another defined as skill, and Trace felt he’d been blessed with an abundance of skill. Not many men counted cards to the extent he could, or bluffed as well either. Most men relied on the luck of the draw, but for Trace, luck had nothing to do with it. Instead, he figured it more prudent to determine his own fate. Grab the bull by the horns, so to speak. He held the same philosophy when it came to money and to those of the opposite sex. Up ’til now, he felt it had been working quite well. 

             Unfortunately, Trace hadn’t foreseen the cunningness of the poker player sitting directly across from him. He had figured the old man daft at first glance, an easy target, but appearances proved deceptive.

            But once the saloon doors swung open and the zombie wandered in, cheating, lying and stealing, became less of an issue. Staying alive, above anything else, became everyones primary focus. The timing couldn’t have been better.

             “Hell, that’s Bill Johnson!” Miss Krissee called from the balcony above. She pulled the Derringer pistol from the garter encircling her leg. If anyone were to know, it would’ve been her. Nearly all the men in town had visited Miss Krissee at least once, though no one ever readily admitted to it. 

                If what she said was true, and that creature was indeed Bill Johnson, it meant only one thing . . .

            The ailing disease had made its way to town.

            “Y’all better run,” Miss Krissee said. “He’s got it a’right. I’ve seen it before.”

            “Then someone should go fetch the doc.” A cowboy at the bar made the suggestion, but no one moved to do so. Trace didn’t blame them. Someone would have to push pass the zombie to escape the saloon, and no one was foolish enough to try that—unless they had a death wish, of course. Even though zombies were slow, they could be tricky sun of a guns too.

            “It’s too late for him.” Miss Krissee shook her head. “He’s already dead.”

            Trace knew exactly what she meant. There was no known cure, though many hot shots in the east, and even a few in the west, bragged about working on finding one. Didn’t matter no how. Cure or no cure, it was all the same. By the time a person sought out help of any kind, the infected person would become part of the walking dead before a powder could be swallowed or a shot injected into the arm.

            The only cure Trace knew of was not to get bit. Simple, yet effective. 

I always like a good contest. And I’m passing the info on to you, because I know you like them too.

So what does this one entail? Well, you’re going to have to take your wonderful, 60K plus manuscript and sum the whole thing up in 140 wonderful, little characters. Yep, 140 characters—just like Twitter. Thus the name “Twitter Pitch Contest.”

Michael Carr of Veritas Literary Agency has offered to read these twitter pitches. He’s looking for anything MG, YA, or Adult, and if he likes what he sees, he just may ask for your manuscript. So have your manuscript complete (though you could take the risk of not).

Here's the basics of the contest:

Starts - March 1st, 2011
Tweet about contest                            
Submit your 140 character pitch
Submit first 3 sentences of your manuscript.

Better hurry, though. The contest closes after 75 entries.

Good luck.

WOOT-WOOT! I’m a finalist, baby! My 100 word sentence is a finalist! The award money ain’t much, but heck, twenty-bucks is twenty-bucks, right? So far I’ve made exactly ZERO dollars on my writing.

To be in the top six is AWESOME!! Super Sweet!

But to win, I need votes. Lot’s of votes. SO PLEEEEAAASSSEEE, pretty please, if you love me (and even if you hate my sentence and like one of the others better) go and leave a comment in the comment section saying that Angela Scott’s sentence ROCKS!

Go to You’re Write, Except when you’re Rong and vote for me. Oh, to be a winner of a little contest would please me SOOOO very much. I need validation. I need it. Help me. If you love me, you’ll do. No pressure though (lot’s of pressure).

Contests big or small, I'll enter them all! I like the idea of winning stuff and also promoting other authors websites (It's all about helping one another).

So even though I'd rather keep this information to myself (up my chances of winning) I will pass this along to you. So check it out here: http://www.melissaddean.com/2011/01/save-cat-contest.html