For the last giveaway, rather than have everyone simply leave a comment, I asked each participant to help me write an angelic story. (Befitting considering the prize was a copy of Hush, Hush by Becca Fitzpatrick, which I’ve already had the pleasure of reading and reviewing—both ARC and final.)

There were a number of entrants and I must thank each and everyone for indulging me; I know the barrier for entry was slightly out of the ordinary. And I certainly hope you all had as much fun as I did watching the story progress.

It was so much fun that I’m thinking of making a weekly game of it—a group story written one sentence at a time—but that’s for later. Now, it’s time to select a winner.

The final story is below; the winner’s sentence is in bold:

I was told once that angels couldn’t bleed, but the one sitting across from me was covered in blood. (original sentence)

He sat stiff and rigid, and barely glanced in my direction; I could tell he had been through a rough time, the wounds helped to prove it.

I leaned forward, wanting to help. But I didn’t know how to help – and I didn’t want to ask the obvious question of “are you ok?”

I realized the blood he was covered with was not his; it was mine.

It didn’t seem real, somehow.

I simply couldn’t figure out how it could be my blood. I couldn’t, couldn’t remember how I got injured, how I got here, anything, not even my own name…

I frantically searched my brain for any clue as to what my name was, and then I thought to look in my wallet – which I had forgotten at home that day in a rush to meet with him.

I began to breath hard, my hands began to shake, and he looked at me and smiled a sad sweet smile that made what was left of my blood heat up.

Cautiously, I looked him in the eyes wondering if it was possible that he could have inflicted these wounds upon me, wondering if I was here with him because I was dead. He didn’t look like he could have killed me, he had no weapon.

And, now that I thought about it, I was in far too much pain to be dead. He touched my cheek and asked me if i was ok, cautiously looking over his shoulder at something that i hadn’t noticed before.

Unsure as to whether or not I was okay, I didn’t answer and instead tried to get a closer look at what he was looking at, whincing in pain from the effort.

It was an indistinct shape, as if it was blurred at the edges, or perhaps, made of smoke.

I tried to think of what it could be – having never seen anything like it before. Is it really what it seems?

The shape took the outline of a human – or human like figure – and started walking toward him, my heart frozen with terror at what might happen next.

Suddenly strangely drawn to the smoky human figure walking towards us, I reached out as if to touch it, but, in a soft, cracking voice that sounded as if it hadn’t been used in ages, the angel spat out a harsh “No!”

I recoiled – though ‘fell back with a gasp of pain’ might be a better description.

He stood up and told me not to touch the figure, that if I did only pain and suffering would come to me.

I thought to myself, what could be more painful than the state I was in at this moment?

“What are we doing here?” the angel asked the figure as it emerged from the smoke; already his voice was much stronger.

I was puzzled more than fearful, but I felt like I was not supposed to see such a confrontation.

Those blank and life-grabbing eyes…

My heart pounded just as he was about to reach my skin…And then the angel grabed him…

He caressed me as if there was only me as I tentatively looked into his seductive eyes.

Suddenly, the angel’s face changed to one of anger, and he growled to me harshly under his breath “You have to leave here now! I don’t know how you got here, but this is not your fight!”

I was hurt by his words because for some reason, deep in my soul, I did not want to leave him alone.

I stood up and looked at him and said “No. I will not leave you.”

But I could not find the courage to resist, and so I ran from there, not looking back even when I heard the sound of two worlds coliding.

I knew I couldn’t get far, that the one still standing would reach for me soon enough, and I hoped it was the angel, even if my fascination with the creature was growing at every breath I took.

I stopped to regain my breath, leaning against a wall and praying to whoever would listen.

I was no longer sure that I could pray to the Guardian Angel I believed to have since childhood, for one had just stand before me and screamed.

Yes, he saved my life, but that did not hide the fact that he was a creature that inspired much fear.

The exploding sound, just centimeters away from me, came with a wave of dust covering everything around.

I could only understand that one of them had just landed with great force in the terrain that was before me, but I was unable to even guess which one by the mere sight of that silhouete.

As the dust began to settle, I finally could make at who it was – and a smile began to creep upon my lips; even though I fought to keep my face a mask.

An email has been sent out to the winner. If I don’t receive a response within 48 hours, I’ll select another winner. Congratulations and again, thank you for humoring me.

I was reading reviews for a children’s book on Amazon and came across something that I found slightly disturbing: In one of the comments, a parent was upset about the subject matter of the book, which she only found out about when she asked her daughter to summarize the book for her.

In other words, she hadn’t first read the book that she allowed her ten year old daughter to read. Not only that, some of the parents were reading the book for the first time while reading it to their children.

I’m not a parent, but I do have a young niece and nephew. Frankly, reading a story to either of them would not be the first time I was hearing about it because I would have made it a point to read the book and make sure it was appropriate beforehand.

So, this is a question for the parents who read and have children who enjoy reading (or having books read to them), am I wrong for thinking it’s logical to read the book and approve it’s subject matter before  reading it to your child or allowing your child to read it (or, at very least, reading various reviews and summaries)? If not, why not?

Not trying to call anyone out specifically, just trying to get a better understanding of what goes into parenting a budding bibliophile.

(I’m not necessarily speaking about school assigned reading plans because, in general, I leave it up to and trust the best judgment of the teacher when it comes to their class’ sensibilities. Of course, that’s a whole other kettle of water. And by child, I don’t mean teenager—I’m speaking in terms of elementary and middle school kids.)

I’ve come to the conclusion that I should just not be allowed out of the house anymore. Why? Because every time I leave, I come back with more books…even though I tell myself, no more—for goodness’ sake, your shelves are bowing under the weight. But do I listen? Noooo.

Anyhoo, I bet you can already guess where this post is going…

Yes, you’re right. I went out yesterday (with the intention of only being moral support for my sister on her shopping excursion) and bought more books. Three books and a magazine to be exact. (Four if you count the book I conned my sister into buying so that I could borrow it later.)

Now let me justify. I was reading up on some 24 hour read-a-thon tips and they mentioned getting some short(ish) books. Well, looking back at my reading pool, there weren’t too many short books so I decided I needed some. (That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.)

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society is only about 275 pages and has been on my Want™ list for a day shy of forever. I’ve kept putting it off despite all the rave reviews it’s received.

I learned about the Dork Diaries a few months ago (the blog’s name escapes me at the moment) and thought the drawings were “oh, so clever!” and the story sounded adorable. My downfall was picking up the book and leafing through it and realizing that I absolutely had to have it. Luckily it’s only 282 pages (and written in bubbly print handwriting, which means it’s only about 150 printed pages, so even better).

The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane was a complete impulse buy. I decided I needed to expand my horizons and pick up a book I normally wouldn’t get. After reading the back flap and having vague reminiscences of the Velveteen Rabbit, I decided to throw it in the cart. Thank goodness it’s only 210 short pages.

There you have it…three more books in the read-a-thon book pool (if I can restrain myself and wait to read them).

Now someone please come and bolt me up inside my home. And figure out how to set the child filters on my computer and block me from accessing Amazon (or any other online book dealer).

I felt like the monster truck announcer guy writing that title–Sunday! Sunday! Sunday!

Anyhoo, moving right along.

Just got back from the store and since it’s so difficult to leave the store without purchasing at least one book, I decided to get four. (There was some logic in that sentence when I heard it in my head, but it escapes me at the moment.)

I nabbed the Norman Rockwell and Michelangelo books because I like art and I figure someone who likes art can’t have too many books on the subject. The Real Life Renovating I picked up, not because I plan on renovating anything (as if getting electrocuted installing a new ceiling fan wasn’t fun or anything), but because the pictures were phenomenal and it would help greatly in visualizing homes for my characters. And I got the Baby Animals book because…well…they’re baby animals, *squee*.

I’ve already read both the Norman Rockwell and Baby Animals books and discovered that I really would have loved to share a cup of coffee with Mr. Rockwell and that baby giraffes, when they’re born, drop seven feet to the ground—what a way to start your life.

Sunday Sketch 0.7

I’m going to cheat a little bit…

Instead of doing a scene from one of the books or stories that I’m reading, I’m going to do a sketch from the Baby Animals book because…(do we really have to go over this again? They’re baby animals, *squee*.)

I wanted to draw the baby rhino because 1) he’s adorable, and 2) they rarely receive love for their cuteness because they kind of stop being cute when they’re all grown up, but then I saw the baby field bunny.

I was tempted to color it, but I decided to save that for another day.

RIP IV Short Story Sunday

In order to get my short story fix, I incurred a book avalanche. Yeah, you heard me correctly. You remember that neat stack of books I created for my 24 hour read-a-thon book pool? Well, the book I wanted to read was halfway down the second stack and I decided it might be fun to try my hand at Jenga. It didn’t work out so well. At least I’ll have an easier time restructuring my book pool should the need arise.

Since I was out and about for a bit today, I only had enough time to read one short story: The Case of the Four and Twenty Blackbirds from M is for Magic by Neil Gaiman.

Scary this story was not. It was, however, quite charming in a cute way. It took all the familiar nursery rhymes we heard growing up and transformed it into a noir whodunit featuring Little Jack Horner as the private dick and Humpty Dumpty as the victim.

Tomorrow I’m hoping to get in at least a few more tales from this book, if not all of them.

Now…I’m going to watch The Nightmare Before Christmas and going to bed.

This post is sticky until the contest is over. For newer posts, please scroll down.

This is one highly anticipated book, especially because of that burning hot cover…yummy half naked guy…hooray to that cover designer.

There has been much talk in the blogosphere by those few lucky enough to have received a review copy and much drooling by those who can’t wait for October 13th to arrive fast enough.

Now, if you’re in the latter category, here’s a chance for you to get your very own ARC.

You’re probably staring at the screen a little cross-eyed wondering what I must be smoking if I’m willing to part with my amazing, drool-worthy copy of Hush, Hush, but fear not…the copy I’m offering up for giveaway is an extra ARC sent to me by the wonderful folks at Simon & Schuster.

Since I want to do something a little different for this particular giveaway, it’s not going to be your typical “leave a comment to be entered” post. Nope. Not at all.

Well, you still have to comment, yes, but that’s not all. In order to be officially entered in this Hush, Hush giveaway, you must help write an angelic story.

WTF?!? I hear you muttering…

Let me explain.

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