Sharon Ledwith is the author of the
middle-grade/young adult time travel adventure series, THE LAST TIMEKEEPERS,
and the award-winning teen psychic mystery series, MYSTERIOUS TALES FROM FAIRY
FALLS. When not writing, reading, researching, or revising, she enjoys anything
arcane, ancient mysteries, and single malt scotch. Sharon lives a serene, yet
busy life in a southern tourist region of Ontario, Canada, with her spoiled
hubby, and two shiny red e-bikes.
Sharon’s Website: www.sharonledwith.com
Sharon’s Blog: http://sharonledwith.blogspot.com/
Twitter:
@sharonledwith: https://twitter.com/sharonledwith
Goodreads Author
Page: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5821744.Sharon_LedwithAmazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Sharon-Ledwith/e/B0084DUHJO
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/sharon-ledwith-4a33b213/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/seledwith/
The Last Timekeepers YA Time Travel Adventure Series
The Last Timekeepers and the Arch of Atlantis (Book #1)
Tagline:
Children are the keys to our future. And now, children are the only hope for our past.
Blurb:
When 13-year-old Amanda Sault and her annoying classmates are caught in a food fight at school, they're given a choice: suspension or yard duty. The decision is a no-brainer. Their two-week crash course in landscaping leads to the discovery of a weathered stone arch in the overgrown back yard. The arch isn't a forgotten lawn ornament but an ancient time portal from the lost continent of Atlantis.
Chosen by an Atlantean Magus to
be Timekeepers--legendary time travelers sworn to keep history safe from the
evil Belial--Amanda and her classmates are sent on an adventure of a lifetime.
Can they find the young Robin Hood and his merry band of teens? If they don't,
then history itself may be turned upside down.When 13-year-old Amanda Sault and her annoying classmates are caught in a food fight at school, they're given a choice: suspension or yard duty. The decision is a no-brainer. Their two-week crash course in landscaping leads to the discovery of a weathered stone arch in the overgrown back yard. The arch isn't a forgotten lawn ornament but an ancient time portal from the lost continent of Atlantis.
Excerpt:
Amanda Sault silently studied the words she just scrawled: May 1st, 1214—Games and songs and revelry, act as the cloak of devilry. So that an English legend may give to the poor, we must travel to Nottingham to even the score.
She frowned. She was the Scribe. Amanda knew that meant she was supposed to understand what this riddle meant. But she didn’t have a clue. All she knew was that she, her four annoying classmates, and two offbeat adults were standing in what was left of the lost continent of Atlantis and they were supposed to be the Timekeepers, the legendary time travelers handpicked by destiny to keep Earth’s history safe from evil. But no one had told them how they were supposed to do it.
Their problem: no matter what
happened—good or bad—they weren’t supposed to mess with the past. Period. Dot.
End of story. Amanda felt hot liquid build in her throat. Her thumb traced the
words of the arcane riddle. Their first Timekeeper mission. Amanda knew this
wasn’t the end of the story.
This was just the beginning.
Goodreads Book Page: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/13613004-the-last-timekeepers-and-the-arch-of-atlantis
Legend of the Timekeepers (Prequel)
There is no moving forward without first going back.
Blurb:
Lilith was a young girl with dreams and a family before the final destruction of Atlantis shattered those dreams and tore her family apart. Now refugees, Lilith and her father make their home in the Black Land. This strange, new country has no place in Lilith’s heart until a beloved high priestess introduces Lilith to her life purpose—to be a Timekeeper and keep time safe.
Lilith was a young girl with dreams and a family before the final destruction of Atlantis shattered those dreams and tore her family apart. Now refugees, Lilith and her father make their home in the Black Land. This strange, new country has no place in Lilith’s heart until a beloved high priestess introduces Lilith to her life purpose—to be a Timekeeper and keep time safe.
Summoned through the seventh arch
of Atlantis by the Children of the Law of One, Lilith and her newfound friends
are sent into Atlantis’s past, and given a task that will ultimately test their
courage and try their faith in each other. Can the Timekeepers stop the dark
magus Belial before he changes the seers’ prophecy? If they fail, then their
future and the earth’s fate will be altered forever.
Excerpt:
“Why
are you here?” Lilith asked. “You’ve already got your life seal.”
“I
have more questions for Istulo.” She continued to stare at the disk.
Lilith
sighed. “My name is Lilith. What’s your name?”
Her
shoulders relaxed slightly. A hint of a smile broke out on her face. Her
upturned nose wiggled. “She-Aba. I was born here in the Black Land. Both my
parents arrived from Atlantis fourteen years ago yesterday. My mother gave
birth to me the next day.”
Lilith
perked up. “That would make today your birthday!”
She-Aba
beamed. “Yes. That’s why I’m here. For my birthday last year, I had my life
reading done by Istulo. But recently, there’s been a hiccup in my plans. It’s
like my life seal rearranged itself, and now I’m confused. I’m here for a reaffirmation.”
“What’s
the problem?”
She-Aba
traced her life seal with the tip of her perfectly shaped fingernail. “My
lifetime occupation was supposed to be to design clothing for the people of the
various positions in the court and temples.”
Lilith
smirked. “That makes perfect sense.”
“I
know, right? So why, all of a sudden, would my life seal change from designing
clothing to something completely different?”
Lilith
arched a fair brow. “How different?”
“Well,
instead of clothing people in lavish robes and gowns for others to appreciate,
the seal suggests that I’ll be doing the opposite by covering up and hiding the
truth. I don’t understand it at all. I thought my life was all planned out for
me.”
“I
thought mine was too, until my country blew up and slid into the ocean,” Lilith
muttered.
“Hey,
look at the bright side, at least your hair isn’t red like mine.”
Lilith
eyed She-Aba carefully. “What’s wrong with red hair? My uncle has red hair and
it suits him fine.”
She-Aba
moved in closer. “If you haven’t noticed already, there aren’t many redheads
around here. The natives think red is magical, and anyone with red hair is
considered a freak of nature.”
“That’s
ridiculous!” Lilith said loud enough to cause an echo down the marble hallway.
“Is that the reason why those artists were rude to you? Because you have red
hair?”
“Red
is a very powerful color,” a raspy voice said from behind both girls.
Lilith
and She-Aba jumped. They slowly turned to find Istulo hovering over them.
Wearing
the same white gown and orichalcum headband Lilith saw her dressed in before,
Istulo nodded slightly before she said, “Red represents the essence of life—if
we are drained of blood, we are drained of energy. The people of the Black Land
understand this, and therefore red is reserved only for their gods and
goddesses.”
Lilith
giggled. “Don’t tell She-Aba that, she’ll think she’s a goddess.”
The Last Timekeepers and the Dark Secret (Book #2)
Tagline:
Only a true hero can
shine the light in humanity’s darkest time.
Blurb:
Fourteen year-old Jordan Jensen
always considered himself a team player on and off the field, until the second
Timekeeper mission lands him in Amsterdam during World War Two. Pulled into the
world of espionage, torture, and intolerance, Jordan and the rest of the Timekeepers
have no choice but to do whatever they can to stay one step ahead of the Nazis
in order to find and protect a mysterious book.
With the help of the Dutch
Resistance, an eccentric baron, Nordic runes, and an ancient volume originating
from Atlantis, Jordan must learn that it takes true teamwork, trust, and
sacrifice to keep time safe from the evils of fascism. Can Jordan find the hero
within to conquer the darkness surrounding the Timekeepers? If he doesn’t, then
the terrible truth of what the Nazis did will never see the light of day.
Excerpt:
“I wonder what else is
down here.” Drake beamed his cell phone across the basement, hitting jars of
jams, pickles, and relishes. His stomach growled.
Jordan pulled the cheese
from his pocket and handed it to Drake. “Trade you for your phone.”
“Best. Trade. Ever.”
Drake passed his phone to Jordan.
Jordan walked over and
grabbed a jar of pickles off the dusty shelf. At least they wouldn’t arrive at
the baron’s place hungry. He hoped his uncle had managed to stop Amanda’s
bleeding. His hand tightened over the jar, the ridges of the lid cutting into
his palm. A scrape from behind the shelves made Jordan jump.
“Hello?” he asked,
pushing jars aside. He flashed the cell phone into the small, dark area.
“Who ya talking to,
Jordan?” Drake asked with his mouth full of cheese.
“Shhh, Drake.” Jordan
listened. Hearing nothing, he shrugged and turned back around.
“I thought I heard—”
Jordan stopped and pointed the phone at Ravi. His jaw dropped. “A-Are you
serious, Sharma?”
Drake spat out his
cheese, snorting with laughter.
“Is there a problem?”
Ravi asked, tying the bowtie of his tuxedo.
“You look like a penguin
with attitude!” Drake slapped his knee.
“Say what you want, but
I’m glad we didn’t hit the cleaners on the way to school now,” Ravi replied,
pulling down his sleeves, “or else I wouldn’t have these dry clothes.”
Jordan chuckled.
Suddenly, he heard a door creak open, followed by heavy footsteps squeaking
down the stairs. Panicking, Jordan stuffed Drake’s phone in his track suit
jacket’s pocket and waved Drake over by the shelves. Drake slipped behind
Jordan just in time, before the small light bulb above the bottom of the stairs
clicked on. Jordan swallowed hard. There, staring directly at Ravi was a portly
man in a blood-stained apron. Tufts of blond hair sprouted from the sides of
his balding head. His brown trousers were pulled up past his waist, making him
resemble an evil garden gnome. In one of his hands, he held a huge butcher
knife, its blade flecked with blood.
Wielding the knife, the
man pointed at Ravi. “Who are you?”
Ravi licked his thick
lips nervously. “The name’s Bond. James Bond.”
Goodreads Book
Page: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31831129-the-last-timekeepers-and-the-dark-secret
The Last Timekeepers and the Noble Slave (Book #3)
Tagline:
True freedom
happens only when you choose to be free.
Blurb:
Eleven-year-old Drake Bailey is an
analytical thinker and the genius of the Timekeeper crew. However, no logic or
mathematical acumen can change the color of his skin, or prepare him for this
third Timekeeper mission in antebellum Georgia. To survive, Drake must learn to
play the role of a plantation slave and when confronted with the brutality,
hatred, and racism of the deep south, he’ll have to strategically keep one move
ahead of his sadistic captors to ensure his lineage continues.
In a dark world of Voodoo, zombies, and ritualistic sacrifice, the Timekeepers must ensure a royal bloodline survives. Can Drake remove both literal and figurative chains to save both himself and a devout slave girl from a terrible fate? If he can’t summon the necessary courage, humanity could stand to lose one of its greatest leaders.
Excerpt:
Drake read over their
Timekeeper mission again. Blood. Deep south. Race. Broken. Soul. Red
flags waved through his mind like a category five hurricane. He’d seen one too
many movies and documentaries to know 1855 was not a great time in history for
people with his skin color. Drake shut the Timekeepers’ log, and shook his head
vehemently. “There’s no way in hell I’m gonna go on this mission, Lilith!”
Lilith wrinkled her
long, narrow nose. “I understand why you have these fearful feelings, Drake,
but I do not choose where you go into the past. Belial is the one who holds
that power, and seeks to disrupt history whenever he sees a chance.”
“May I see the
Timekeepers’ log, Drake?” the Prof asked.
“Sure, Prof, but I’m
still not going,” Drake replied, passing the log over.
“Can he do that?” Ravi
asked, glancing at Treena.
“I don’t think so. It’s like
signing a contract for a movie. You’re committed to finishing the film or you
face the studio lawyers. Case closed, gavel down.”
“Lilith isn’t a judge.”
Ravi looked at Lilith. “Right?”
“No, Ravi, I am not your
judge, but what Treena said rings true. You were all chosen as Timekeepers for
a reason, and are bound by this covenant,” Lilith replied, unclasping her
hands. “That is all I can offer you.”
“Fine. I’ll just remove
my Babel necklace,” Drake said, digging under his shirt. “Problem solved.”
“Drake, why are you
freaking out like this?” Jordan asked, helping Amanda to her feet. “It can’t be
as bad as fighting the Nazis in our second mission.”
“Yeah, or being
interrogated in the Gestapo Headquarters by Belial’s creepy crony Marcus
Crowley,” Ravi added.
“Why don’t you ask
Amanda why she puked? It wasn’t because she had warm and fuzzy feelings about
this mission,” Drake argued.
Melody wiped Amanda’s
chin. “Do you feel well enough to speak?”
“I…I think so.”
Professor Lucas
whistled. “Now I see why Amanda was sick to her stomach. Using the words deep
south and the date as a clue, this mission puts us in the antebellum era, six
years before the American Civil War began. This period was filled with so much
hate, racism, turmoil, and political upheaval, I’m willing to bet these
emotions went right through her.”
“If Uncle John is right,
why would Belial want to change anything back then?” Jordan asked, frowning.
“That slithering douche-bag lives for human suffering during those dark times
in history.”
“Exactly.” Drake removed
his Babel necklace. “So why tempt fate?”
“N-no, Drake, you have
to come.” Amanda reached for his hand, and squeezed it. “Trust me, you’re an
important part of this mission.”
“Huh? How?”
“It’s hard to explain. I just know you have to be there.”
Goodreads Book Page: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58901516-the-last-timekeepers-and-the-noble-slave
The Terrible, Mighty Crystal
Tagline:
There is the known and the
unknown. And then there is the unknowable.
Blurb:
A rumor around Atlantis whispers that
the mighty crystal has the power of resurrection. Fourteen-year-old Shu-Tu believes
this to be true and will do whatever it takes to bring her father back from the
dead. Recruiting two trustworthy classmates, and with the help of her beloved
teacher Thoth, Shu-Tu sets out to change her father’s fate, and right a wrong.
Instructed to meet Thoth at his
grotto, Shu-Tu and her friends are forced to flee underground, and must follow
the maze of passages to find another way out. There, they come across a
baboon-headed human hybrid possessing a rare firestone—one of six harvested
from the mighty crystal—which has the power to restore life. Shu-Tu agrees to
play the hybrid’s bizarre game to win the firestone, knowing that if she loses,
she loses her father forever.
Mysterious Tales from Fairy Falls Teen Psychic Series
Here’s a glimpse of the series overview:
Imagine a teenager possessing a
psychic ability and struggling to cope with this freakish power, all the while
trying to lead a normal life. Now, imagine being uprooted and forced to live in
a small tourist town where nothing much ever happens. It’s bores-ville from the
get-go. Welcome to Fairy Falls. Expect the unexpected…
Set in a small northern cottage community,
Mysterious Tales from Fairy Falls, speaks to many of the important
issues facing teens today. With Fairy Falls as the backdrop that glues the
series together, each book is a stand-alone project with a different cast of
characters, one of whom possesses a unique psychic, supernatural, or prophetic
ability.
Tagline:
Fairy Falls was bores-ville from the get-go. Then the animals
started talking...
Blurb:
The Fairy
Falls Animal Shelter is in trouble. Money trouble. It’s up to an old calico
cat named Whiskey—a shelter
cat who has mastered the skill of observation—to find a new human pack leader so that their home will
be saved. With the help of Nobel, the leader of the shelter dogs, the animals
set out to use the ancient skill of telepathy to contact any human who bothers
to listen to them. Unfortunately for fifteen-year-old Meagan Walsh, she hears
them, loud and clear.
Forced to
live with her Aunt Izzy in the safe and quiet town of Fairy Falls, Meagan is
caught stealing and is sentenced to do community hours at the animal shelter
where her aunt works. Realizing Meagan can hear her, Whiskey realizes that
Meagan just might have the pack leader qualities necessary to save the animals.
Avoiding Whiskey and the rest of shelter animals becomes impossible for Meagan,
so she finally gives in and promises to help them. Meagan, along with her
newfound friends, Reid Robertson and Natalie Knight, discover that someone in
Fairy Falls is not only out to destroy the shelter, but the animals as well.
Can Meagan convince her aunt and co-workers that the animals are in danger? If
she fails, then all the animals’ voices will be silenced forever.
Excerpt:
“Silly, stupid humans!” Whiskey hissed.
Creeping through the ductwork was becoming harder on her old
bones. Layers of dust tickled her pink nose and made her facial whiskers twitch
incessantly. Her stomach retched at the stale odors. However, Whiskey, a
fifteen-year-old calico cat, ignored these annoyances and persevered. She had
to, knowing that she was the only link, the only form of communication, between
the cat floor and the dog floor at the Fairy Falls Animal Shelter. This was
what made her special, gave her life purpose. This quiet night was no
exception.
What the humans called a crisis had happened at the
shelter today and Whiskey had to relay this information to the canine pack
leader. Nearing the entrance above the dog floor, the thick fur on the back of
her neck rose. Some of the dogs she tolerated, some she abhorred. Her ears
flattened. Whiskey knew she would have to scale across the top of Mary Jane’s
gate in order to get to Nobel’s cage and deliver her report. She also knew to
be extra careful not to shake the little bells attached to her red collar that
would jingle out her presence. Reaching the opening, Whiskey extracted her long
claws and pushed the dusty register aside.
Looking down, she sighed, thankful that Mary Jane, a black and
white pit bull terrier, and a long time resident of the shelter, was asleep.
Carefully, Whiskey jumped down, balanced on the top of the fenced gate that
faced the hallway, and started to slink across it. Then she sneezed and her
bells jingled.
A growl and a snort sounded from below. “Who dares to wake
me?”
Whiskey peered down. Mary Jane’s eyes were rolled back, her
tongue hanging limply out one side of her mouth. A quilted blanket on the
cement floor was half-shredded and inches away lay a rubber toy, which would
normally be stuffed into Mary Jane’s powerful jaws to exercise the constant
frustration of being incarcerated for so long. Whiskey watched Mary Jane lunge
for the toy, shaking her thick head and neck in anger.
Whiskey leaned over into the cage and purred, “Someday, I hope
you choke on that thing.”
Mary Jane dropped the toy and lunged at the smug cat. Whiskey
had just enough time to recoil and land feet first on the hallway’s cement
floor. She groaned, feeling her arthritic back legs cave slightly. She was not
a kitten anymore, that was for sure. Mary Jane rattled the kennel door,
snapping, growling, and barking. Slobber ran down the white patch on her neck
and dribbled onto the floor, making it too slippery for her to balance on her
hind legs. She slipped and fell with a loud thump and knocked the water bowl,
spilling water all over. Whiskey flattened her ears and shook her head. This
dog could easily have been the pick of the litter when it came time to receive
the sleep needle, but since this shelter had a ‘no kill’ policy in place, all
of its residents, including Mary Jane, remained safe and alive.
Suddenly the kennel next to Mary Jane’s came alive and the one
after that. Whiskey heard a whimper from the cage down the hall where the new
dogs were kept. These were the dogs whose owners would either still rescue them
or would condemn them to live here in the shelter until they were adopted by a
new human.
“You sure know how to make an entrance, Whiskey.”
Whiskey’s ears pricked up. The right ear had been badly
frostbitten once upon a time, but her left ear was still intact. Half her face
was masked in black; the other half a mixture of white and orange. The rest of
her small body was a patchwork of black and orange fur, with the exception of a
white belly. She preened her whiskers, licking the pad of her front right paw
until she realized all she tasted was watered down bleach. Cringing, Whiskey
slowly sauntered over to Nobel’s kennel—the biggest—at the very end of the
hallway. She plopped her bottom on the cool concrete floor and stretched.
“You’re certainly a deep sleeper, Nobel. Are you sure you used
to be a watchdog?” Whiskey asked, preening the area above her yellow eyes.
There was a low growl, and then a high pitched bark. It was
Nobel’s way of laughing. “I’m part Husky, part Doberman, and part mystery mutt,
so sometimes I get all messed up about my job. Do I run as fast as I can or do
I stand and fight? It’s darned confounding, I say.”
Although it was dark, Whiskey could see the amusement in
Nobel’s light blue eyes. His fur was a mixture of black, tan, and grey, and
standing on all fours he would be at least three cats tall. Nobel’s kennel was
well-kept, with a thick, comfy blanket set up in front and a pan full of water
at the back. He’d been at the shelter for as long as she had, so Whiskey felt a
sense of oneness with Nobel, even though he was canine.
“I smell feline! Feline! Feline! Feline!” a dog from the
middle cage barked.
Nobel rolled his eyes. “You’re dreaming again, Louis. Go back
to sleep!”
Whiskey heard a snort from the big Rottweiler mix, followed by
a whine. “Dreaming? Hmm, yup, silly me. Must be dreaming. No felines on the dog
floor. Silly me.”
She heard Louis yawn, fart, and then settle back down on his
papered floor. Louis tended to pee in his kennel, so he wasn’t afforded the
luxury of a cushy blanket like Nobel’s.
“Dumb as wood, that one,” Nobel muttered.
“Yet he trusts you completely,” Whiskey mewed, scratching her
chin.
“That’s because I’m the pack leader. It’s not a choice, you
know.”
Blackflies and Blueberries, Book Two:
Tagline:
The only witness left to testify against an unsolved
crime in Fairy Falls isn’t a person…
Blurb:
City born and bred, Hart Stewart possesses the
gift of psychometry—the psychic ability to discover facts about an event or
person by touching inanimate objects associated with them. Since his mother’s
death, seventeen-year-old Hart has endured homelessness, and has learned ways
to keep his illiteracy under wraps. He eventually learns of a great-aunt living
in Fairy Falls, and decides to leave the only life he’s ever known for an
uncertain future.
Diana MacGregor lives in Fairy Falls. Her mother
was a victim of a senseless murder. Only Diana’s unanswered questions and her
grief keeps her going, until Hart finds her mother’s lost ring and becomes a
witness to her murder.
Through Hart’s psychic power, Diana gains hope
for justice. Their investigation leads them into the corrupt world threatening
Fairy Falls. To secure the town’s future, Hart and Diana must join forces to
uncover the shocking truth, or they risk losing the true essence of Fairy Falls
forever.
Excerpt:
For over a year now, Diana had wondered, prayed, and longed
for any information regarding her mother’s murder. And now this guy shows
up, who claims he has these psychic powers that can communicate with objects. Objects
like mom’s ring. Diana pressed her lips together. An object that had been
there, at the scene of the crime, a viable witness to a heinous act. It all
seemed so far-fetched, so out there. Yet what did Hart have to gain from all
this? This wasn’t a fortune telling session, this was real. So was Hart for
real?
“Who are you, anyway?” Brook asked. “The sorcerer’s
apprentice?”
Hart threw her a strange look. “No. My name’s Hart Stewart.
I’m Gertie Ellis’s great-nephew.”
Diana snapped out of her self-induced trance. Gertie Ellis?
Not the same Gertie Ellis who was Dan Boone’s only alibi? No. This is all too
much. It was information overload to the power of ten. Diana thought she
heard Donovan mumble ‘Uh-oh’ as he took a step back. He swung the golf club behind
his back, as if anticipating her next move, but Donovan would have never have
guessed what was about to happen next, because what came out of her mouth
shocked even Diana. “Name your price, I’ll pay you whatever you ask. You can
even have my car, if you want it.”
Donovan dropped the golf club.
Brook gasped.
Hart snapped his head back. “Pay me? Pay me for what?”
“To find my mother’s killer,” Diana replied. “Let’s face
facts. You’re the only person who has these special psychic connections and no
one else has been able to solve her murder. Look, I’ve got all the information
on my mother’s murder, I’ve kept impeccable files, know the suspects, and can
help you get anything you’d need. What do you say?”
“Your...your car?” Donovan muttered.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Brook asked, concerned.
Diana held her hand out toward Hart. “Do we have a deal?”
Dumbfounded, Hart looked at Diana’s offered hand, then glanced
back to her face, searching for a hint of sincerity. He nodded. “I’ll help you,
if you help me.”
Startled, Diana arched her thin, fair brows. “Help you? How?”
Hart took a deep breath. “My mother was murdered too. In
Toronto, just over a year ago, in our apartment. Nothing was taken. She had no
enemies to speak of and we weren’t rich. All I have is a letter my great-aunt
kept from when mom was my age. Maybe it will help answer some questions, maybe
it won’t.”
Diana nodded. “So what does it say?”
Hart cast his eyes to the ground. His face reddened, his hands
balled at his sides. He took another deep breath. “I...I don’t know,” he
replied, his voice cracking. “I can’t—”
Diana inclined her head. “Can’t what?”
Hart’s eyes locked with Diana’s. His chin trembled as he
whispered, “Read.”
Silence, except for the sudden, chilly gust of wind coming off
of the lake.
Donovan broke it. “Dude, did you just that say you can’t—”
“Donovan!” Brook elbowed him in the ribs. “Don’t be so
insensitive!”
Donovan rubbed his side, and nodded. “Dude, you’re
illiterate?”
Brook rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I meant, you
bonehead.”
Diana ignored her friends and got straight to the heart of the
matter. “Then I’ll teach you to read. We’ll help each other. That way, I’ll get
what I want, and you’ll get what you want.”
Goodreads Book
Page: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/45259122-blackflies-and-blueberries
Free Writing Resource available as a PDF on my website:
So, you want to write a book? Tips, Tools & Tricks for the Tenacious Writer is a writing resource
available free for download, that shares a glimpse of my personal journey to
publication, and beyond… https://www.sharonledwith.com/tips-tools-tricks-for-the-tenacious-writer/
