(Feel free to skip ahead to what you want to read)
- What's new with Ashleigh?
- RomantiConn
- Choose Your Own Path Stories
- The Detention Adventure: A Young Adult Choose Your Own Path Story
- Late For Work: A Choose Your Own Path Romance
- A Weekend at Munson Manor: A Choose Your Own Path Mystery
- Ashleigh's Reading Challenge
- Hartfield Chronicles
- Free Books
- Other Books on Sale
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What's new with Ashleigh?
Have you ever been so excited you couldn't sleep? You just spend your night—sometimes several in a row—lying in bed thinking about an upcoming event? Maybe you're going on vacation. Or maybe you're buying a new car.
Or maybe you're releasing a new book!
That's right! I can't sleep because I am so excited about PS: It was Murder.
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PS: It Was MurderShe wanted to learn how her best friend died. Penpals since the age of 11, Katie and Lisa have been best friends more than half their lives. So when Katie learns that Lisa has died falling off the lighthouse cliffs, she naturally drops everything to pay her final respects. That's when she meets Lisa's grieving brother. Over the past decade, Jeff has lost both parents and his sister. Now he just wants to move on. His family home contains too many painful reminders of what he's lost. He can't wait to sell it and get out of town. But Katie isn't ready to let go. Lisa loved the lighthouse cliffs and knew when they were unsafe. The more Katie thinks about it, the more she can't help wondering if Lisa's death wasn't an accident and perhaps the answers lie in Lisa's unfinished novel. Even Jeff agrees that an accident seems unlikely. Someone, however, wants them to let Lisa rest in peace. But intimidating death threats only encourage Katie and bring closer to each other as they race to discover the truth about Lisa's death before they become the next victims. |
Now, I want to share my excitement by having a party. I'll bring the games and prizes. You bring the snacks.
So, mark your calendar. Or RSVP and I'll send you a reminder email before we start. Hope to see you there!
PS: It Was Murder Launch Party
Where: Your computer
Date: Sunday, March 26th
Time: 10:00 pm EDT
RSVP: Click here to RSVP
RomantiConn
Believe it or not, the book launch is not the only thing keeping me awake. I'm attending an author signing event this summer and I'm already getting ready for it.
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RomantiConn 2023
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Choose Your Own Path Story
I was so excited with last week's enthusiasm for this new feature. In fact, your response inspired me to lengthen each scene and post the game on Reddit.
Now, as promised, I will only be posting the new scene. However, because I added a lot of details, you may want to re-read the last scene.
The gold lettering on the black book in your right hand stands out clearly. Adventures In the Land of Dragons and Elves. Curious, you open the front cover.
The title is printed in large bold letters on the first page. But no author is listed. Instead, someone has scrawled across the page in large letters: Not For Reading!
You frown at the book. That’s stupid. Why would someone write a book that wasn’t meant to be read? Or maybe the person who scribbled the note didn’t want to read it.
But why not? What could be so bad? Reading the warning just makes you want to read the book that much more.
You turn the page.
But, it doesn’t turn. It’s stuck to the next page. And the one beneath that. You end up turning about fifty pages at once. They are glued together.
Wow! Someone really doesn’t want you to read this book. Now, of course, you can’t wait to read it.
You look at the page in front of you. You might be a couple of chapters in, but maybe you can still get an idea of what the story is about.
Except, it’s impossible to read the story. Not only are the rest of the pages glued together, someone cut out a large rectangle nearly the size of the book.
This is a hollow book! You’ve heard about these in books and movies. But you never knew they were real. This is so cool.
And the best part? It’s not empty. There’s something inside the hole.
You glance over your shoulder to make sure Evil Librarian isn’t watching you. She’s not. You’re all alone in the creepy windowless section of the library. Using the flashlight on your phone, you look at the object more carefully.
The yellowish white object takes up nearly the entire book. It is thick, almost round, but with a slight curve. The outer edge is smooth, but the inner edge is serrated like the blade of a saw. The points even look as sharp as a saw. Only, the teeth are very small and close together.
Teeth. Or rather, tooth. Could this object be a tooth? But what animal do you know has teeth that large? Or with a serrated edge?
You have never seen anything like this. You have so many questions. How heavy is it? Is it solid or hollow? Is it really a tooth? What kind of animal could have lost it?
You try to read through the text on the facing page, but you are literally trying to start reading a book from the middle. It makes no sense. Who is Olba and Keris? What is a Zayrot or Reiverrirth? And where were Zymmarth or Bryvicri?
Trying to read this book was like trying to learn a new language. Now you really wish those pages weren’t glued together. With a sigh, you turn back to the tooth. It’s got to be a tooth. What else could it be?
The front of the book said this is a book about dragons. This thing is probably supposed to be a dragon’s tooth. Obviously, it’s not a real dragon’s tooth, because there’s no such thing as dragons. It must be epoxy or something. So, it’s probably a lot flimsier than it looks.
Someone has bored a hole through the top of the object, wrapping a black cord around and through it to form a type of necklace. Yeah, it has to be fake.
You reach in to grab it, to confirm your suspicions, but you stop abruptly. Your gaze has landed on the words printed at the top of the page. The name of the book is printed in a small font. But someone has written something in the margin. Judging by the handwriting, it was probably the same person who wrote on the first page. But you could have sworn those words were not there a moment ago.
You shake your head to clear it. Obviously, your eyes are playing tricks on you. What does it say? You hold your phone a little closer.
Biting your lip, you look around. How could a fake dragon tooth’s necklace be magical?
Maybe it changes color in the light? You shine your light closer, but it remains the same. Maybe it’s a little less yellow, but you don’t think it really changed color.
You glance between the warning and the necklace a few times.
Should you pick up the necklace?
It’s Hot Guy Mike!
Hurriedly, you pull forward to let the car pass. He didn’t see you, right? Or at least, if he did, he didn’t recognize you as the person who spill coffee everywhere. You can only hope.
Sinking low in your seat, you do your best to peek in your rearview mirror, but you don’t see the black car. You check your side mirrors. Nope. No car.
Sipping your coffee, you breathe a mental sigh of relief.
Until you check the clock on the dash. It reads 8:51. You have nine minutes to get to work. You are meeting with a new client first thing and you would like an extra few minutes to prepare. The Yeager account could make or break you. If you do well with this project, you could get a promotion. If you don’t, well, you’re pretty sure you’re already on the company chopping block. Or at least in line for it.
Sitting upright, you check your mirrors again. No cars. After shifting the car into reverse, you back out of the space a little more slowly than you did before. This time, at least, you don’t come close to hitting anyone as you join the line of cars trying to leave the parking lot.
Ugh. Is that person in front seriously trying to make a left-hand turn? On this road? There’s a right-turn-only sign for a reason!
Drumming your fingers against the wheel with one hand, you sip your coffee and glance at the clock. Eight minutes.
Eventually, the moron blocking traffic makes the left and you are able to fight your way onto the main road. Only to hit every red light between here and your office. You wait the best way you know how: sipping your latte and hoping your boss is stuck in the same traffic. Or even better: the client.
When you finally reach the office, it is well past nine o’clock. Pulling into the first spot you can find, you down the rest of your coffee as you shut the door.
You wave to the receptionist as you enter the building, but you don’t have time to chat. Walking briskly, you make a beeline to the back corner of the room. You wave to your coworkers, quickly realizing you are the last one to arrive.
You turn on your computer as you sit, swiveling to search for the folder containing all your notes for this morning’s meeting. And come face to face with your boss.
How long has she been standing there?
You gulp, sending her a sheepish smile. “Oh. Morning. I didn’t see you there.”
Smiling, Karen waves a dismissive hand. “No worries. Just got in. Traffic this morning was horrendous.”
You nod. Does she know you were late? Is she mad?
She doesn’t seem to be. She gestures to the folder in your hands. “Mr. Yeager’s here. Meet us in the conference room?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“Great. See you in there.”
As she disappears into the cubicle forest, you take a few deep breaths. You can do this. You will land this account.
Confident that you are are confident as you can get, you grab your folder and head to the conference room. On your way, you detour to the kitchen. One more cup of coffee will help calm your nerves.
As you approach the conference room, you can see Karen approaching with your new client. Two clients, you realize. Why are there two? You were only expecting to meet with one person.
While researching your new client, you visited the company’s website. The man walking beside Karen is definitely Dr. Yeager. But who is the person behind them? Dr. Yeager is so tall, he is completely obscuring your view.
Since you arrive at the conference room only moments before them, you wait for them, smiling as they approach.
Karen gestures to you, introducing you as the junior accountant who will be assisting her before turning to you. “This is Dr. Yeager, and his son, also Dr. Yeager.”
The older man thrusts out a hand. “Nice to meet you. I look forward to working with you.”
“And I, you.” Smiling, you shake his hand, surprised at his firm grip.
Karen holds open the door to the conference room. “Shall we?”
The older doctor laughs. “Of course. Ladies first.” He holds the door, ushering Karen inside.
And you get your first glimpse of the younger doctor. Except, it’s not your first glance. You’ve seen him before. In line behind you at the coffee shop this morning.
He smirks. “Well, well. Isn’t it a small world?”
What do you do?
The taffeta gown is a gorgeous light blue with puffy short sleeves. The flattering brocade neckline is adorned with small flowers in the center. As you remove the dress from the closet, you are surprised at how lightweight it feels. And, you quickly realize, it fits you perfectly. At least now you understand why the registration had asked for all your measurements.
The silver dress shoes have a small heel, just within your comfort level. Frowning, you examine yourself in the mirror on the inside of the armoire door. Not bad. You definitely look like you belong in the 1940s.
Time to see what your host has in store for you this weekend.
You have no problem finding your way to the main hall, where the butler is standing idly. What was his name again?
He bobs his head—somewhere between a nod and a bow—when he sees you. “Dr. Poole. You are all settled in?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“Excellent. The others are in their rooms. Would you like to wait in the parlor?” He gestures to a room on your left.
With a shrug, you turn into the room. Gold-framed portraits adorned rose walls with dark-red flowers adorning them. You aren’t positive, but it looks as if the walls may be covered in fabric instead of paper. Either way, they nearly match the drapes, all of which are open. White sheers filter in the last vestiges of daylight, adding to the light from the sconces on every wall and the glowing fireplace to your right.
On the far wall a cherry wood table sits between two windows. Upon it rests an assortment of glass bottles in various shapes and sizes, each filled with a different color liquid. To your right, nestled between two more windows is a hutch of the same wood. A matching chair sits beside it, its embroidered seat containing the same pattern as the walls and drapes. To your left is a large wooden panel you assume is some type of sliding pocket door. On your right, two overstuffed powder-blue couches sit on an ornate Persian rug with two matching armchairs, all facing the fire.
Without realizing it, you find yourself drifting into the room, drawn to the warmth of the fire. Unlike home, there are no electronics. No computer. No television. Not even a phone. Combined with your outfit, you truly feel as if you have stepped back in time.
Hearing voices, you turn to the doorway. You cannot see anyone, but you can definitely hear two men talking. And one of them just uttered your name. Curious, you inch closer to the door, standing against the wall so no one will see you.
“Yes, sir.” You recognize that voice. Isn’t that the butler whose name you keep forgetting? “Dr. Poole has arrived, changed, and is waiting in the parlor. Miss Lewis has yet to arrive. Everyone else is in their rooms.”
“Very well. Let’s—”
A buzzing sound interrupts the second man. Wordlessly, footsteps retreat—one set running, the other walking calmly. A moment later, you hear the front door open and a new exchange, this time between the butler and a woman. You hear him giving her much the same speech you received as he leads her up the stairs.
As you return to the fireplace, you wonder who that second man in the hall was. If he was another guest, shouldn’t he have joined you in the parlor? And how did he know everyone’s name?
Loud voices break your concentration. Two new voices, a man and a woman. You cannot hear the words. Are they arguing or just speaking in raised tones?
The butler’s voice interrupts them. “Mr. Rollins. Professor Mills. Dinner will be served shortly. If you would be so kind, the rest of the guests are gathering in the parlor.”
The man grunts something unintelligible, but the woman speaks. “Thank you, Charles.”
A moment later, the pair enter the room. The middle-aged man is tall, but seems to be having trouble fitting into his gray tweed blazer and green herringbone trousers. His maroon tie has a navy zigzag running from his neck to where it disappears behind his jacket buttons. His scuffed shoes are the same dull brown as his unkempt hair.
The slender woman behind him looks about the same age as the man. Her floor-length rose gown has a gathered bodice with thin shoulder straps and pleats beneath her waistline. Her short black hair curls tightly against her scowling face.
Neither seem to notice you. The woman huffs to the nearest armchair, sitting with her arms and legs crossed and glaring at the floor.
The man, meanwhile, goes straight to the table and examines the liquids. He lifts one, removes the top, and sniffs. With a shrug, he reaches for a rounded drinking glasses and pours three fingers of the amber liquid. After returning the bottle to the table, he steps to the nearby window.
Obviously neither of these guests wish to speak with each other. Maybe you should break the uncomfortable silence. But to whom should you talk first?
Ashleigh's Reading Challenge
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Hartfield Chronicles
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Season 5 of Hartfield Chronicles is here!Melinda loves Pat, but sometimes she wishes he had friends of his own. When he starts spending time with her dance partner, however, Melinda can't help the feelings of jealousy that surface, especially when he starts choosing him over her. Will their relationship survive Pat's new bromance? |
Hartfield Chronicles follows the lives of Melinda, Pat, and their friends as they navigate their way through boarding school life. Each episode features two stories, one from Melinda's point of view and one from Pat's, along with an excerpt from Melinda's writing journal. New episodes are published every Friday.
Here's what you missed:
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| A new classmate joins Melinda’s study group while Pat trains a new partner for DMH. | Melinda and Pat place bets on how long Sarah and Larry will remain apart. Who wins? |
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