Friday, February 14, 2014

"Launching Sisters to WitchCamp" by LRS

Launching Sisters to WitchCamp
by LRS

Launching Sisters to WitchCamp is currently on tour with Bewitching Book Tours. The tour stops here today for a guest post from the author and a giveaway. Please make sure you visit the other tour stops as well.

Sixth-grader J.J. learns there are no easy breaks in life.
When J.J. discovers the opportunity to send his maddening sisters off to WitchCamp, he has fantasies of a delightful summer. However, J.J. and his friend are soon off on a ride they didn't anticipate - one that lands them in a chilling mess of witch hunts and creature feasts.
With his creative ideas, J.J. utilizes their risky escapades to escape. But making deals with superhuman creatures just lands them in hotter water.
Now it’s up to J.J. to save them all from certain death by being more imaginative and daring than ever before.

Book Trailer

Something soars through the air straight at us. A chunk of meat smacks DaveyBoy right in the nose. It glides off his face straight into his pot. 
I wipe off the blood that splattered his eyes and hear a kerplunk in my own pot.
“What you get? What you get?” the old witch to my left elbows me.
I stare at the hunk in my pot. “Meat.”
The witch snorts. “Yes, but what part? The new recruits are always blessed with the choicest pieces at their first feast.”
I shrug my shoulders. “No idea.”
The old witch leans over me and pokes a long bony finger in my pot.
She looks up, her eyes gleaming. She pokes a finger in DaveyBoy’s pot, too, and licks her now bloody finger, grinning. “Even better then what I was expecting. The nostrils. You’ve got the right and she’s got the left. I don’t suppose there’s any chance one of you would consider trading with my portion?”
The witch on her other side tugs on her hair. “No trading. It wouldn’t be fair if you got a nostril!”
The witch besides us scratches at her face, but their pots fill up and they forget about their fight as they attack their meal. All around there’s loud chewing (serves Dolly right for complaining about my eating habits) and lip smacking. 
“We’ve got to pretend we’re eating,” I whisper to DaveyBoy.
“I can’t touch it. Do you think giants even clean their noses?”
Glasses filled with what looks like punch dance before us, and the witches all reach out their hands and grab one.  They down it in one gulp. I’d rather skip my after-dinner treat, but the glass persists on being taken, dancing closer and closer to me, till its right by my eyeballs. Still I don’t take it. It belly dances wildly. Is it trying to impress me?
The witch next to me snaps, “Didn’t your parents ever teach you not to play with your food? That’s good giant blood you’ve got there.”

When J.J. hatches a plan to rid himself and his best friend of their annoying sisters, he's surprised to wake one morning and find it actually worked. The girls are off to WitchCamp and the boys are looking at a blissful summer without them! Or so they thought. J.J. soon learns his hasty plans may have put them all in danger. Now the boys are off on an adventure of a lifetime, full of witchy vacuum rides (who ever said witches rode brooms!), giants, and feasts where they may be the dish of choice. Can J.J.'s scheming and dealing save the day or will WitchCamp prove his demise?
LRS crafts a hilarious tale in her middle grade fantasy Launching Sisters to WitchCamp It has just the right amount of danger for the target audience and plenty of humor and adventure for all. Readers who have sibling will totally be able to relate to J.J. and his complicated feelings over his sisters, and those without siblings will surely be glad they don't. A spot-on voice for the young and young at heart!

Guest Post by LRS
(Disclaimer: This account is fictional, and the behavior of the therapist is completely unethical.)
Therapy session with Angela
Angela: What am I doing here? Therapy is for mental kids. I’m not psycho.
LRS:  In this room, you’re free to do whatever you want, as long as you don’t hurt anyone… (I’ve read what she can do, and I’ve got to protect my back.)
Angela picks up a stuffed dog sitting next to her on the couch, and rips its tail off.
LRS: … and you can’t hurt anything. I see you’ve got extraordinarily long nails. Why don’t you use them to make designs with finger paints?
Angela pours black finger paint directly on the table and drags her nails through the paint, raking them against the table.
It feels like an army of bugs are running up my back. Angela is watching me, and I fight my urge to squirm. Instead, I pick up a metal fork from the play kitchen and scratch it against a pot.
Angela: (leaping off her chair) OUCH! What do you think you’re doing?
LRS: (smiling innocently) It’s called mirroring. It’s a play therapy technique.
Angela: What other lame tricks do you have up your sleeve?
LRS: Now that you mention it…. (Takes out a family of dolls and a doll house.)
Angela rips out a long strand of her frizzy hair and ties it around the doll’s mouth.
LRS: Looks like you don’t want him to talk.
Angela: I’ve put a stop to J.J.’s jokes. He won’t be able to steal the show no more.
Angela rips another strand of hair out and binds the doll’s hands and feet together. Then she throws the body under the back porch. 
LRS: It seems you want your brother out of the scene.
Angela: That smelly kid won’t be getting in my way anymore. (Crackling laugh.) And I’ll be free to do whatever I want now that he won’t be around to rat me out to Mom. (Crackling laugh.)
Angela pulls out a nail from her chair with her teeth. Then she retrieves the doll from under the porch, stabs him, and throws the body back under.
Angela: That should fix J.J. good.
LRS: You want to hurt him real bad.  
Angela: I don’t want to, I just did. Don’t you know? These dolls you got here are voodoo dolls.
LRS: Sorry to break it to you, but these are knock-offs from China. J.J. is alive and well. In fact, I just got a text message from him this minute.
Angela: AHH! I HATE YOU!
Runs to window and jumps out. 
LRS: Wait, we’re missing out on the really good stuff, I was about to try hypnosis.
Cupboard door creaks open. Dirty sneaker pushes through.
LRS: Coast is clear, you can come out now. I busy myself with Angela’s file.
A grubby five dollar bill is shoved in front of my face.
On the first page of the file, I stamp “PSYCHO”. I hand back the bill.
LRS: There’s no need for bribes to convince me of your diagnosis. And after this report, I’m sure Social Services will see your reasoning too.
J.J. leaves my office whistling.

About the Author
LRS has a master’s degree in psychology. For more than ten years she pretended to be working while she was on the floor enjoying playtime with kids.
She has lived on the eastern and western coasts of the U.S.A, as well as abroad, and currently resides in Canada with her family. Wherever she is, she can’t pass by a toy store without going inside.
When she's not writing, she can usually be found in her kitchen, where she’s either baking (and sampling) cookies or stirring a pot. (Unfortunately, she has yet to find a magical spoon.)

Enter the tour-wide giveaway for a chance to win some great prizes.