I think I’ll talk about writing… I’ve been writing since I was 13 and I’m 23, so that’s quite a bit of time, no? The thing about writing is that it never gets old; I never think I’m tired of writing because there are far too many things to write. But more than anything, I love writing young adult fiction, as, The Life and Times of the Heir and the Keeper (and the prequel, The Life and Times of Elizabeth and the Duchess) is. There are so many stories and they appeal to ALL age groups. It’s like trying out different dishes; you never know what one will taste like until you take that first bite. So, rather than telling, I’d like to show. Show a few samples of things I’ve written that is. Voila! Etta King:
“What was his problem? I planned on telling Judith…at some point. I just didn’t feel up to that talk and whatever else might come with it.
“Because for some incomprehensible reason, she actually cares about you.”
I wanted to ask, why that was my problem, but he didn’t need any more reasons to think I was an ass. Wait, was I?
“It’s complicated, Chad.”
“Oh don’t give me any of that clichéd bull. Don’t forget I actually know what it was like between you and Desiree. God, she fawned all over you. And what was her name? The other one who took her place?”
“That was different; Desiree and I actually went out.” Of course he would bring that up. And I didn’t even remember telling him about Bailey.
“Oh, I’m sorry, this time you’re not deliberately being an absolute douche.”
“I wasn’t being a douche, I was just sick of being called Delish every freaking morning.” I bit out, feeling my ears heating up.
“And yet you managed to keep that little tidbit to yourself for a whole year. You know I think you like being worshipped by unsuspecting females.”
To be absolutely and brutally honest, there was probably some truth to that. And yet, it was really difficult to not like that. I was only human.” – The Life and Times of the Heir and the Keeper
Before I start, here – above – is a little snippet from Heir and the Keeper!
I turned toward the voice with an automatic smile and moved my LV Montsouris to make room for him.
"Gates," I replied, as he made himself comfortable on the seat next to me.
Stetson Gates, oh so very, very cute and for some reason we were like best friends. Ever since the day he'd caught me throwing up in his brother's bathroom. Okay, so it wasn't very glamorous.
"Are you okay?" He'd asked, a worried frown putting a crease between his brows. I'd coughed and spat before replying in a defeated voice, "I hate food."
"Oh," he'd said, as though he'd understood.
I'd dropped the sterling silver knife I'd stolen from the dining room, the handle of which I'd been stuffing down my throat.
We'd both winced at the loud clattering sound it made as it hit the marble tiles and I burst into painful sobs. He'd come in and closed the door behind him, saying "That's not the worst thing in the world."
And that's how it started.” – Clarissa + Mia (unfinished)
“I can't believe you kissed him!"
"Oh shut up, Samson! What suddenly, you give a bugger who I kiss?!"
"Of course I give a- I mean you're my-"
"Your what?! Your what, Samson? Girlfriend? I think not! That ship sailed ages ago!"
"Look I care about you! I know I haven't…"
"You CARE about me? You absolute wanker! Where were you when I actually needed you? Shagging that stupid chav, Cassandra, that's where! 'Oh I'm sorry, Delilah, can't talk right now, you know I have my own life, can't be watching you too, you should talk to Marnie or that shrink of yours!'"
"Cassandra's not a chav! When did you get so posh, anyway? And I'm sorry! I just- I was confused and I didn't want you to think-"
"That I could count on you? Trust me, I don't."
"Don't shut me out like this, Delilah. I wanted to talk."
"That's why you brought me here? To your grandmother's old place?" I looked around at the ancient room, with irritation. It reminded me of when I was younger and we used to come here and I'd pretend he was my prince who'd save me from my wicked stepmother. Bloody hell.” – Rockingham (unfinished)
“Rochester could appreciate the exotic appeal the woman must have to most men, and he while he would admit to be somewhat intrigued, he could not see himself drawn to a woman raised in near isolation. She would be undoubtedly dazzled by her surroundings, would have little to no conversation and may very well be ignorant of even the barest niceties. Why the devil was he even waiting to meet the chit? This would become a disaster beyond redemption if his mother attached her to him, and he had no real desire to crush the marital hopes of some innocent but unfortunate child. He pushed away from the pillar, gave his mother a ghost of a bow and strode toward the stairs.
His club would help him forget this debacle in minutes, he was sure. He might even call on Evangeline later in the night and satisfy his other needs. He was two feet from the base of the staircase when a low but insistent whisper stopped him. He raised an eyebrow and glanced to his right. In the shadows, beyond the ample derrière of one matron, he could distinguish the pursed lips of a young woman. Pink and inviting they called to him, literally. Now, what have we here?” – Rochester and the Red Lady (unfinished)
“You know how sometimes you daydream in class and your imaginations just seem so real? It seems like it’s all happening right there before you and you almost can’t believe you’re not asleep and dreaming. Well I get that…a lot. Only when I daydream…it’s not just real for me. It’s real for everyone else too.
My name is Tiffany Masters and I’m not cool. See people assume that I am because I have one of those “cool kid” names. The kind that writers give the character that has everything: the money, the awesome boyfriend, the perfect body and the lead position on the high school cheerleading team. You know, one of those people. No, I’m not cool. I’m very average: I’m average height, a size seven with messy brown hair and no boyfriend. I have zero coordination so I could never be a cheerleader and my parents don’t believe in an allowance. They also don’t believe in “child labor” so even though I’m sixteen, I don’t have a job.
I’m not a nerd; I’m not that smart. And I’m not a loser; I do have friends. But I’m one of those people who everyone kind of just forgets. Like I said, I’m very average. Well at least until recently.” – Enchantment (unfinished)
Etta King is the author of the Caspian University novels, a series chronicling the life and times of a group of wealthy teens who inevitably discover the various flavors of college drama. Etta writes from her personal experiences as a college co-ed and as the product of an all-girls prep school. Here she witnessed the very eccentricities and foibles which she depicts in her novels.
In a home filled with books, it was no surprise that Etta grew to be an avid reader, and that translated into writing when she was thirteen. She wrote simply for the fun of it, whatever would come to mind, from fantasy to thriller to romance, and shared her stories with her friends.
In 2010, at twenty-one and just as she was about to graduate from college, Etta began writing "The Life and Times of Elizabeth and the Duchess." This was a story which had first taken shape in 2008, after her freshman year, but had been put on hold. With graduation looming, Etta recalled the characters, and the events which had inspired them, and took pen to paper. Literally, as Etta enjoys writing out her stories before typing them out. Soon the first book had been completed and the series was born.
"The Life and Times of the Heir and the Keeper," comes as the sequel to "Elizabeth and the Duchess," and serves as the second semester of these teens' college saga. Etta is currently working on the third book, in what will be an eight-part series.
Etta King lives with her family in Westchester, New York.
Genre: Young Adult Fiction
Release Date: 11/28/12
They say college is a lot of things; a haven, a four-year party, the place you met the girl – or guy – of your dreams. What they don’t tell you is, the best part of college is the drama YOU bring to the table! After all, that dirty little secret, that not-so-little white lie, and those texts you wish you could erase from cyberspace can’t stay hidden forever. At CU, someone’s always watching, and you better hope there isn’t a camera phone on hand when you get caught.
It’s the Spring Semester, but it’s not all fun in the budding sun for Jon and Franz. Follow them as they delve through the politics of secret societies, the inevitable drama of the F-word (that’s FAMILY, for the uninitiated), creepy Resident Advisors, creepier residents and girls who don’t always say what they mean. Who wouldn’t need two months to recuperate?
Cheers! And GL!
I woke up to the sound of my phone vibrating on the floor. I scooted out of bed, trying not to wake Elizabeth as I went to pick it up. I missed it and I saw four missed calls. All from Chadwick. Crap, it was six thirty-seven. I called him back and made my way to my bathroom, while it rang.
“Yeah, that’s okay, I’m home. Look, Jon, I’m going to say this just this once and then I won’t say it again.” I got an ominous feeling and leaned against the sink, ignoring the cold marble.
“Judith,” he began and I bit down on my groan. If ever I was tired of hearing one person’s name in a day.
“I don’t care what it is you did, I really don’t.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Whatever. Just don’t do anything else.”
“What?” I couldn’t help the irritation creeping into my voice.
“Nothing else, okay? Just don’t lead her on, don’t mess with her.”
“What the hell do you think I did?”
“Honestly? I think you hooked up with her and never called her back. Or maybe you did and she didn’t understand how you worked.” How I worked??
“Jesus, Chad, seriously?”
“Look, I’m not judging you.”
“Are you drunk?”
“I’m not judging you, I just want you to leave her alone, okay?”
I was silent; what the absolute fuck had Judith said to Chad? What was her problem anyway? Three weeks was all it had been, for God’s sake.
“I didn’t do anything to her, Chad.”
“So why is she calling me and crying?”
I massaged my temple and shook my head.
“Because she’s Judith, Chad. Because I haven’t told her about Elizabeth and I, and I don’t feel like calling her and skipping that conversation, so I’d rather just not. Because yes, she called me, called my house, sent me messages, but all I want is for her to calm down and stop acting like I’m Judas. Because yeah, we’re friends and she feels that means she has exclusive rights to my number. Because…” My God, I could go on and on.
“Not because you hooked up with her?”
“She told you that?”
“You’re not saying you didn’t.”
“This is not about hooking up. I don’t understand why she’s so anxious to talk to me, but that’s pretty much it. I’m just not ready.”
“You’re an ass, Jon. You’re my friend, but you’re an ass.”
Giveaway: $30 Amazon Gift Card & 1 Signed Paperback