Saturday, July 26, 2014

So, Whatchya Writin'? Fred's Leg of the Writers' Blog Tour!

Ahoy my friends! 

Happy Friday to you all (or Saturday, if you're not on 'Murican time!) 

I've a special little post today. It's my very first blog tour! This current blog tour is all about the wonderful works in progress that I and many other writers are currently working on. 

What is a blog tour, you ask? It's a special blog post that some clever writer starts and continues the theme by tagging more authors to continue. Yes, it is exactly like those social media personality surveys we've all participated in at one point in time. Don't even deny it ;) 

Let's get to business! First, I was tagged by the very talented Valerie Noble, author of The Energy Crusades, to participate in this blog hop. If you're a fan of post-apocalyptic, dystopian stories full of action, suspense, and a little romance, you'd absolutely adore The Energy Crusades. If you'd like a little sample, you can always purchase Lucid and read the first chapter of Ms. Noble's book at the end of Devon's story. Just putting that out there ;) 

Anyway, huge shout out to Valerie tagging a newbie author such as myself, and a very big thank you to those of you taking the time to read my post!

Let me tell all of you following the tour a little bit about myself:

I’m singer/songwriter, novelist, and traveler. My experiences abroad, and most importantly with new people, inspire my stories and propel me to get my written word out there. I write primarily for my middle school students, especially those who are not yet avid readers, hoping to inspire them to delve into the great worlds within books and get lost within the pages. My debut novel, Lucid, was released earlier this summer. It's a YA fiction piece about a young teenager whose dreams whisk him away to a fantasy world where he must learn to survive and become a hero. 

Time for a WIP (work-in-progress) Q&A session!

What am I currently working on? This is a tough question, as I always have several work-in-progress projects at hand. My attention span isn't the largest, so I really need the variety to keep me going. The big project I’m working on currently are the sequel to Lucid (called Reverie) which follows Devon and his friends as they journey deeper into the dream world to defeat the evil villains, Phobio and Leona, and restore the balance between good and evil. 

How does my work differ from others in the genre? I write YA fiction, which is a hugely popular genre right now. One thing that sets Lucid apart from the other modern YA titles is that it’s split into modern day and fantasy settings.  Most other YA titles are either straight fantasy or add an apocalyptic or fantastical element into a modern setting. The schism between the two worlds in Lucid keeps the story flowing on both sides of the looking glass and challenges the characters to adapt and thrive in different situations.

Why do I write what I write? I write a lot of things for myself, but I write my YA titles for my students. Being an adolescent is tough. I remember how awkward I felt in my own skin from 13-17. Reading was a great escape for me. It not only gave me a safe place to hide from the petty teenage drama, but the stories I read also  kept my imagination strong during a time where most imaginations tend to be squashed by makeup and boys. Reading about how a nerdy little character turns into a great hero inspired me to be the best I can be. When I started teaching middle school, I saw that kids these days are just as awkward as I was. Those that read, however, seem to be happier in the classroom and with their peers. I wanted to write another book that inspired a child to continue to believe in magic while finding his or her inner hero. If one kid comes up to me thanking me for my book, it will all be worth it.

How does my writing process work? Oh, don’t I wish I knew the answer to this? Anyone who knows me can tell you that I’m a huge procrastinator. In order to stay disciplined, I treat my writing sessions like a workout. When I sit at the computer, I remind myself that if I ever want to be on the same level as my author role models, I at least have to put words on a page. Some writing sessions are better than others, but at the end of the day, if I have more words written then yesterday, I’m doing all right.  

Thank you for stopping by! Hope you all enjoyed reading about my writing process and current projects! You  can continue the blog tour by checking out these lovely authors in the next week or so:

Daniel Thomas Quick, fellow fantasy author:

Christina Lorenzen, author of inspirational and sweet romance:

Aria LeJune, writer of fiction and poetry (because poets need love, too!):

Til next time, keep readin' and dreamin'!


Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Something Different with E. A. West!

Happy Wednesday, everyone!

I appears the middle of the week seems to be my new favorite author spotlight day. Not that I'm complaining, because I have another great story for all of you to hear about!

The Book

E. A. West's Different is about a girl, Jezebel, who is not like everyone else. While exploring her favorite cave, she finds an unconscious man who changes her world forever. New strangers come into town, forcing Jezebel to learn more about the outside world and, most importantly, herself. The book, fittingly, is a fresh take on a YA fiction novel. Full of action, romance, and internal conflict, Different is sure to please most readers!

But enough of my rambling. Why don't you read this great excerpt to hook you even more!


The distant drip of water echoed off the rocky walls as Jezebel Smith wandered through her cave. Pungent fumes from her kerosene lantern stung her nose, and she wished for a flashlight. But her family would miss a flashlight. They never noticed when she took the old lantern from the barn.

Turning her face away from the lantern, she caught a whiff of the familiar scent of the rocks around her. She loved the fresh, earthy smell of her cave. Through countless hours of careful practice, her hiking boots barely produced a whisper on the bumpy path leading to her special cavern. If she swung the lantern on its creaky handle, however, she could fill the cave with a creepy echo that reminded her of Halloween.

She passed through an opening in the wall and entered a large cavern with several ledges in one end. As she approached the lowest ledge, the glow from her lantern touched an unfamiliar lump on the floor below the rocky shelf and she froze. She knew every inch of this cavern — every rock, ledge, and bump in the floor. No one ever came here. Nothing ever changed unless she changed it. The cave was the only thing she could count on to always stay the same.

This time, however, there was something new. The cave had broken its own rules, adding a boulder where one didn’t belong. She crept toward it, fighting tears of hurt that the cave would trick her like everyone else, and the golden light of her lantern revealed it wasn’t a boulder after all — it was the still form of a man. Her pulse pounded in her ears, so loud it threatened to drown out her own thoughts. Where had he come from? Why wasn’t he moving? Her heart skipped a beat. Was he dead?

Fear shivered through her that he was sleeping so much. One of her brothers had fallen out of a tree once and hit his head, and the doctor said they had to keep him from falling asleep for a while. Jezebel didn’t know if falling off a ledge and hitting his head made the man have to stay awake or not.

After worrying for a while longer, she finally decided she’d have to risk a beating from her parents and go get the doctor. She didn’t know if he’d come, but she had to try. Daniel was the only person to ever treat her kindly, and he needed help.

She put a couple more sticks on the fire so it would keep burning while she was gone, and then she lit the lantern and headed out of the cavern. As she neared the cave entrance, the flame went out. She slowed her steps and followed the faint glow of daylight. Hopefully the doctor had a flashlight. When she stepped into the woods, she set the lantern by the cave entrance and ran toward town. She practiced saying Daniel’s name while she ran, praying the doctor would come if she told him the injured man’s name.

As she neared the edge of town, she slowed down to catch her breath. She hesitantly stepped onto the main road, terrified at the thought of trying to convince the doctor to go with her. She’d learned a long time ago that no one believed her about anything, and since she couldn’t talk, people didn’t understand what she tried to tell them anyway.

A lot of strange cars and people clogged the main street through town, and Jezebel wondered who they were. Unless Reverend Brown was holding one of his many revivals,  the town rarely had many visitors. As she continued toward the doctor’s office, a woman carrying a stack of papers walked toward her with a smile. Jezebel stopped, her mind whirling with uncertainty, and the woman handed her a paper.

“We’re looking for this man. He went hiking in this area a couple of days ago and didn’t come back.”

Jezebel studied the sheet in her hands, and her heart skipped a beat. A picture of Daniel stared back, and some words had been printed across the bottom in black ink. She pointed to the photo. “D-Dan... Daniel.”

“That’s right, his name is Daniel,” the woman said, her tone changing a little. “Have you seen him?”

Jezebel nodded and looked back the way she’d come. “C-c-cave.”

“You saw him in a cave?”

She nodded again, excitement rushing through her. For the first time in her life, someone understood what she tried to say. She touched the photograph on the paper, indicating where the cut on Daniel’s head was. Before she could see if the woman understood, she heard her older brother spit out her name. She cringed and felt herself shriveling inside.


Sounds great, doesn't it? I'd especially recommend it if you're traveling soon. There's nothing like a fast-paced novel to make the time fly by! 

You can find Different at the links below:

The Author 

E. A. West is an award-winning author of inspirational and sweet romance. A lover of books and writing at a young age, West knew she wanted to be an author in high school. She lives in Indiana with her family and will often swap a pen with her knitting needles. 

You can contact Ms. West at the links below:


Stay tuned for more blogs in the next week! Better get your fill now before my hiatus in August.

Til next time, keep readin' and dreamin'! 


Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Get 'Spell Struck' with Ariella Moon!

Hello, dear followers and readers!

I know, I know. What am I thinking? Blogging on a Wednesday? I must be losing my mind! 

Well, I am more than eager to break the flow of the work week by celebrating the anniversary of an amazing book! 

Ariella Moon's Spell Struck hit the e-shelves a year ago today! It's the second in the Teen Wytche series, (Spell Check and Spell Fire being the 1st and 3rd in this wonderful series) and a really compelling read! I had the honor of stumbling upon this series last December, and it definitely added some magic to my holidays. 

So, without further ado, let me tell you a little about Spell Struck !

The Book

The best part about the Teen Wytche series is that every story stands on its own, but they are all connected by characters and a pesky, magical grimoire that's set on making these girls' lives even more complicated, wonderful, and magical than they already are. Spell Struck focuses on Salem/Sarah, a goth girl who plays a big role in the first book. She takes center stage in Spell Struck as the grimoire focuses on her life:

What if the one person who saw through your lies but loved you anyway, harbored a secret that could cost you everything?

When goth outcast Salem Miller casts a love spell on Halloween night, she asks for a boy who is handsome, magical, and artistic. She doesn’t count on Fate sending Aidan Cooper.

As a child, Aidan thought he was being rescued, not abducted. Now fifteen and homeless, he realizes he was taken because of his Gypsy blood. His kidnappers believe he’ll lead them to the Grey Grimoire, a valuable gypsy spell book. Madness. The book doesn’t even exist.

Or does it?

Salem is charged with fixing a half-destroyed spell book, her last hope for saving her sister. Amy attempted suicide and the meds aren’t helping. Maybe a powerful Get Well Spell will cure her.

Aidan’s kidnappers will kill to attain the Grey Grimoire. But if he destroys it, Salem will hate him. Either way, he loses. Again. 


Doesn't it sound wonderful? Well, it should! The book switches points of view between Salem and Aidan, so the reader is gets to watch as both teens struggle to solve their problems and find their place in high school and beyond. Though it is a teen series, I would recommend Spell Struck and all of the Teen Wytche books to anyone who loves a little bit of romance and magic. 

You can find Spell Struck at the following links:

About the Author

Ariella Moon is a writer of sweet Young Adult paranormal romance. 

Ariella spent her childhood searching for a magical wardrobe that would transport her to Narnia. She finally gave up on the wardrobe and created her own sweet YA paranormal romance series, Teen Wytche. Ariella is a Reiki Master, author, and shaman who lives with her daughter, two spoiled dogs, and enormous dragon.

You can contact Ariella at the following links:

Until next time, keep readin' and dreamin'!


Sunday, July 13, 2014

Spotlight Sundays with Kristin Wallace!

Ahoy lovely readers! 

I hope you've all been keeping cool in this summer heat. I highly recommend staying indoors and reading a good book. Perhaps you could even give Lucid another read! 

But if you're looking for another great read in the shade or the A/C, I've another book recommendation for you! 

Kristin Wallace's Imagine That is the perfect summer read for aspiring writers, lovers of sweet romance, and everyone in between! It is the third book in the Covington Falls series, so be sure to read the first two (Marry Me and  Acting up ) as well! 


About the Book

Imagine That:

Children’s author Emily Sinclair was supposed to be the next J.K. Rowling… Until her second book flopped and her imagination went on the fritz. So she sets out on an epic adventure to find inspiration again. Till a dead car lands her in Covington Falls, Georgia. Soon Emily is taking up her quest, looking for inspiration driving a mobile library van, as a companion to a crotchety old woman and her insomniac dog, and as a very ungraceful baker’s assistant. Of course, what really sparks her romantic fantasies is a valiant hero, though he yields a paint roller instead of a sword.

Rugged, blue-collar Nate Cooper has spent most of his life avoiding the printed page. These days he doesn’t have much use for fancy words and certainly not for a slightly off-center writer on the lam. Not when his mother is battling cancer, his little brother has morphed into a teenaged ogre, and God seems to have taken a vacation.

On paper, these two would seem the least likely pairing, and a happily ever after nothing but fantasy. But with faith and imagination Emily and Nate are about to write a new chapter that will lead to unexpected love.

A struggling writer, a too-manly-for-books macho man, and a potential romance between the two opposites? Sounds like the perfect tale!

And if that's not enough of an incentive to read this wonderful book, I bring to you the first chapter! If this doesn't hook you, I don't know what will!


Chapter One

A stomach-churning thunk. A disaster-laden chug. A scary, threatening gurgle.
Emily Sinclair’s hands clutched the steering wheel as she guided her how-could-you-give-out-on-me-now convertible to the side of the road. With a last ominous blunk and splutter, the car gave up the ghost.
She switched off the engine, waited a few seconds, and then turned the key again. Nothing.
Not surprising. As if anything glug-glugging like an octogenarian trying to cough up a lung was going to restart with so little effort.
A cranky yowl went up from the passenger seat. Emily glanced over at the pet carrier and sent the fat Persian inside a confident smile. “Don’t worry, Wordsworth. This is why modern man invented cell phones.”
She fished her phone out of her purse. A blank screen stared back at her. Pressing more buttons did nothing.
Dead as her car.
With a sound of disgust, Emily tossed the useless phone aside and stared out the windshield at the deserted country road in front of her. The very deserted country road that stretched around a sparkling blue lake and disappeared into the back of beyond. The kind of road featured in all the best horror stories. Emily’s mind conjured up every one, along with the opening line in the newspaper article.
Once-famous children’s author found mangled to death. Quest to locate her lost imagination and revive faded career ends in disaster… as her mother predicted.
Muttering an oath, Emily climbed out of the car and slammed the door as hard as she could. What a fix. And ironic. There were rules about writing. Not grammar rules, like where to put commas or when to use a semicolon. No, the unofficial rules for fiction writing. Chief among them is that an author should never start a novel with the character driving or thinking. No, readers wanted action right off the top, and the car could never break down.
In college, Emily had written a short story where the heroine’s car stalled in a typical these-people-will-murder-you-in-your-sleep town. Emily’s professor had written cliché in bold, red pen across the page. Not satisfied, she’d added boring cliché, underlining the boring with three thick red lines. The critique had stung. The fact that it had come courtesy of Professor Vanessa Sinclair, Emily’s mother, had been like ripping off an old bandage.
Emily was breaking all three cardinal rules of writing at once. Though technically the driving rule didn’t apply. Same for the sitting rule. She was thinking, though. Thinking her entire life had become a cliché, so what did it matter if she broke her mother’s precious writing rules? She was a one-hit writing wonder. A flash in the pan. A big-haired eighties’ rock band that had scored one giant hit and then disappeared into the oblivion of those nostalgic ‘Where are they now?’ music specials.
Emily sighed. If one had to break down somewhere, one could do worse than… what had the sign said back there? Covington something. Covington something, Georgia. Muted afternoon sun shimmered off the surface of the lake. She lifted a hand to ward off the eye-watering glare and focused on the water. In her previous life, the golden flecks of sunlight reflecting off its surface would have transformed into a million different kinds of fantastical creatures. Or maybe something nightmarish would charge out of that bank of oak trees across the lake.
Unfortunately, Emily was stuck in her real life, and her imagination was on the fritz.
Well, at least she wouldn’t die of water deprivation while she waited to be rescued.
Speaking of rescue.
A car had appeared, winding around the curve of the lake. A big ole’ country truck calling to mind hoedowns and hay rides. A big ole’ rusty truck, Emily realized as it drew closer. Burnt red growth spread out across the hood like a marauding band of Vikings overtaking a defenseless village. She imagined rust was the only thing holding the vehicle together.
The truck slowed and Emily tensed, torn between elation at being found and wariness regarding exactly who might be behind the wheel of the ancient rattletrap. The glare off the windshield made it impossible to see inside the cab, however.
The tires veered off to the side of the road and stopped, sending up a cloud of dust. Emily waved her hand, choking on the airborne dirt. Her mouth felt dry as if she had licked the ground. The door opened. Work boots emerged. Brown and roughed-up and covered in… paint. A man stepped out, and Emily steadied her hands against the car to keep from falling over.
Mr. Darcy. No, Heathcliff. Only instead of a cravat and breeches, he was dressed in faded jeans and a black T-shirt, which seemed molded to an impressive chest. Heath stretched up a good six-plus feet, towering over her puny five-foot-two frame. A lock of dark chocolate-brown hair brushed over his forehead. Their eyes met. Since she was already thinking in clichés, Emily’s mind offered up a million of them to describe his eyes. She could start with gray, but no way did such a mundane word do them justice. Slate, storm clouds, a roiling sea, glazed pewter. Devastating, and framed by thick sooty lashes no man had a right to possess.
He stopped a few feet away, and Emily had the fanciful notion he was trying not to frighten her. Like she was a skittish filly about to bolt.
“Hi,” he said. “Car trouble?”
His voice was like his eyes. Smooth and deep, like honey in a cup of hot tea.
Emily nodded. How could she speak when every male literary fantasy she’d ever dreamed about had unfolded from a rusted-out pickup?
“You okay?” he asked. “You didn’t have an accident? Knock your head on anything?”
“No. Just a car that decided to die,” Emily said, finally finding her voice. “Along with my cell. Although that’s my fault since I didn’t charge it last night, even though my mother is always nagging me not to forget, since I’ve taken it into my head to wander the globe on an aimless search for purpose and meaning. Her description anyway, but if you’d lost your imagination wouldn’t you go to the ends of the earth to find it again? She doesn’t understand, though. Although maybe she’s right. I mean, here I am stuck in Covington something, Georgia, with a dead car, a dead cell, and a dead imagination. Although if I had an imagination I know I could come up with something fantastic about your truck.”
Emily slapped a hand over her mouth, horrified by the verbal diarrhea she’d just unleashed on her hapless rescuer.
The stranger stared at her for a moment, and then did the most unexpected thing. He grinned. “What was that?”
Her butt thumped against the hood of the car as her legs gave out. Oh, Heath had a smile on him that could tempt any fair maiden to let down her hair. Or anything else he wanted.


About the Author

Kristin Wallace is a long term lover of books. Her love for the written word stemmed from childhood and developed into her love for writing inspirational romance. Her Covington Falls books are about sweet romance that takes place in a charming Southern town. When she's not writing the next Southern romance, Kristin is working as an advertising copywriter. She's also quite the Renaissance woman who also enjoys singing in her church choir and playing the flute. 

You can buy Imagine That and all of the Covington Falls books at the following links:

         And you can contact Ms. Wallace at the links below:

Until next time, keep readin' and dreamin'!


Tuesday, July 1, 2014

A Beautiful Tuesday with Mary Cope

Ahoy, lovely readers!

Happy one week anniversary to Lucid! It's hard to believe Devon and his pals have been out on the e-shelves, telling their dream world stories to all who care to listen, for one full week! Lucid is doing modestly on Amazon right now, so spread the word to anyone you may think would enjoy the book.

Also, don't forget to leave reviews! A good, honest review is like gold to authors. We take 'em all: the good, the bad, and the ugly. It not only boosts sales but it also gives us constructive criticism to get even better work out to you in the future. Which, by the way, I'm currently writing some more cool stuff  to send your way. I even have a few *gasp* female protagonist stories in the works!

But enough about me, I'm here today with the lovely Mary Cope, author of Beautiful One. Let me tell you a little about this "bizarre love triangle" of affairs:

The Book

Beautiful One is about Elizabeth Ryan, a timid high school senior who ends up with the high school heartthrob, Aidan. Sounds like your typical underdog-geek-girl-gets-boy kind of story right? Well, Beautiful One takes this classic tale and adds a dark twist, giving Aidan fits of jealously as Elizabeth climbs the popularity ladder, getting more attention than he wants her to have. Elizabeth finds solace in her friendship with fellow classmate, Spencer, who shares a love of similar interests with her. Elizabeth is torn between helping her jealous boyfriend overcome his personal issues and giving herself what she truly desires.

Sounds like a good page-turner, right? Well, fear not, when you do run out of pages to turn. Ms. Cope plans on writing two more novels in the Beautiful One series! So, get out there and get your copy of the first now! You wouldn't want to fall behind.

And to seal the deal, here's an excerpt from Beautiful One: 

Chapter One

      The faint sounds of a guitar drifted through the walls of my bathroom as I savored the last of the hot water before it became lukewarm. Stepping away from the spray, I turned the shower knob and watched the droplets trickle down the drain. Inhaling a deep breath my mind focused on one thing. Aidan Mitchell.
      Hearing Mason’s band practicing meant he would be here. I was ninety-nine percent sure Aidan wouldn’t blow off their practice. He knew how serious my brother was about the band, but he also had been avoiding me for days.
      The past week had been awful. I was determined to talk to him. All I wanted was a few answers. My emotions had run the gamut from confusion, frustration, regret, and sadness… sadness consumed me most of all, at night usually, and I was exhausted from it. But at this moment all I felt was anger. Anger was good. It was certainly better than pain.
      As I rushed down the hallway, the floorboards creaked beneath my feet and the walls began to vibrate with the beat of Derek pounding on the drums. When I entered my room the music was deafening, but today I didn’t mind. I untwisted the blue-and-white-polka-dot towel from my head and tossed it to the floor.
      The deep conditioner I used helped my fingers glide through my long damp curls. If I was going to confront Aidan, I wanted to look my best. No Frizzy Lizzie for me. That nickname, coupled with my big butt, had tormented me, growing up in a beach town surrounded by beautiful people. I had longed to look like a typical California girl: tall, blond, perfect. But, with dark hair and bordering on five feet three inches, that was never going to be me.
      After I blow-dried and flat-ironed my hair, I took off my purple robe and draped it over my desk chair. I slipped on a pair of jeans… yes, slipped them on. I didn’t have to tug, pull, or jiggle my butt to get in my pants anymore. When I easily pushed the button through the top of my jeans, it still made me smile. I couldn’t even count how many times I had to lie on my bed and suck in my stomach so I could zip up a pair of pants. Every time I slipped them on, I never took it for granted. I had worked my butt off… literally. I put on my bra and a green sweater before I pulled on my boots.
      I rushed downstairs to the door that led to the garage. Thinking about confronting Aidan and having to stare into those piercing blue eyes started to intimidate me. But this was my chance. I knew he was a few feet behind the door, and I needed to deal with him. Before I completely lost my nerve, I inhaled a deep breath and exhaled then pushed open the door.
      The stream of sunlight coming in through the open garage door blinded me for a moment. With squinted eyes, I made a beeline to the old brown sofa in the corner. My heart was beating so fast it almost seemed in tempo with Derek pounding the drums. I scooted over our yellow Labrador, Maggie, and wedged myself between her and the arm of the couch. Finally, I looked up to focus my attention on Aidan.
      He didn’t show.
      I sunk my head back into the cushions, exhaling a deep, long sigh, trying to rid the tension from my body. The guys were practicing their newest song. Indie-Alternative was their style, and they called themselves Random Plan. I glanced at Mason and could tell he was angry. I mouthed the word “Aidan?”
Mason just shook his head.
      “Derek!” The tone in my brother’s voice made me sit up straight. “Derek!” Mason snapped again.
      Finally Derek stopped and silenced his cymbals.
      “What?” He lifted the front of his black t-shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead, exposing his six-pack. His brown eyes bored into Mason’s. “Hey! Just ‘cuz you’re ticked off at the pretty boy, don’t take it out on me.”
      Derek reached back and grabbed a water from an old bookcase that held a few water bottles, electrical cords, an old CD player, and a collection of CDs. “Hey, Kyle, ya want one?”
      Kyle nodded and Derek tossed one across the garage to where he stood behind the keyboard.
      “Yeah, I’ll take one… Sorry, Derek.”
      Derek gave Mason a head nod and tossed him a bottle. He took a sip while Derek chugged his down.
      “Okay, start again.” Mason commanded.
      Derek picked up his sticks and began tapping.
      I leaned my head back, closed my eyes and listened to the music. Funny, I’d come into the garage so fearless it almost made me laugh. Who would have thought the once-overweight Elizabeth Ryan would stand up to the likes of Aidan Mitchell? I smiled to myself, allowing my mind to drift back to the time when I’d found it hard to even look at him...


Told you it was a page-turner! You can get Beautiful One at the following links:

Barnes and Noble:


The Author

Mary Cope is a writer of romance. She plans on making her Beautiful One series into a trilogy. She fuels her romance writing with fresh-baked cookies and long walks with her yellow Lab, Maggie.

You can contact Ms. Cope at the following links:

Hope you enjoyed today's spotlight.

Until next time, keep readin' and dreamin'!