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Cover Blurb
Everyone deserves
happiness. Is Robin the exception?
A
cross-country move to a new state offers Robin Westmore the chance to get away
from the relentless bullies and reinvent himself. But on the first day at his
new high school Robin finds himself in front of Zane, the school’s star pitcher
and chief tormentor, at the exact wrong moment and right back into the role of
victim. Hopeless, he wishes for it all to stop.
When
Desiree, the new leader of the genies, grants Robin’s wish he’s sure things are
finally going his way. But problems in the magical realm have made Desiree
equally hopeless and too distracted to give Robin the attention he needs.
As Desiree hides from her responsibilities,
Robin disappears into the video game he’s created. There he finds excitement,
adventure, and control. When the game presents him with a real escape from his
tortured life, will he take it?
Excerpt
“You stayed up late again?” she asked as she took a box
of tea from the back of the cabinet.
“Lots of homework,” I said. She knew I spent my summer
developing the game. She didn’t know I spent at least two hours a night, after
homework, still working on it.
She never protested when I said the dark circles under
my eyes were studying related. Usually that was the case. Sometimes, though,
Zane’s harassment got really intense and the circles came from lack of sleep
due to nightmares.
There were days when he would stop in the middle of
whatever he’d been doing and charge at me from across the lunchroom to slam
into me or sneeze on my lunch. Once he even stood in front of me flapping his
arms and making birdcalls. In the middle of the lunchroom. Why didn’t someone
record that and put it up on the web? He looked ridiculous. Didn’t anyone else
see that?
“Are you feeling all right?” Mom put the back of her
hand to my forehead and I resisted the urge to swat it away. It was a caring
touch. One of the few signs lately that someone gave a damn about me.
If I told her what was happening, would she do
something? Maybe I could do online schooling. She knew I was a self-motivator
and that she never had to check to see if I’d done my homework. Grades were
everything to me. I’d never had less than a 3.8 GPA. The only reason it fell
below a 4.0 was because of gym class. I could barely lift my backpack let alone
do a pull-up. Maybe online school was the answer to my problems.
“Mom—”
Her phone rang just as I was about to ask.
“Hello… Oh, I’m so sorry.” She glanced at the clock on
the microwave. “I was thinking there was a one hour time difference. Five
months and I’m still adjusting to being in the Mountain Time Zone. Let me get
to my office and I’ll call you right back.”
She was already heading out of the kitchen when I said,
“Bye.”
“Oh, sweetie.” She came back and kissed my forehead. “If
you’re not feeling well you can stay home. Or call if you need to come home
early. I’ll give permission for you to leave.”
She knew I got motion sick on the bus. If I said I was
nauseous, would she still make me ride the bus or would she take twenty minutes
off of work to come and get me?
I toasted a piece of cinnamon-raisin bread and spread on
a thick layer of butter. Then I tugged on my coat and headed out the door. With
every step I thought of how Zane would be waiting for me and that single bite
of toast turned into a little rock in my stomach. I paused at the garbage can
next to the garage and lifted the lid to toss in the barely-eaten piece when
someone came around the corner, making me jump.
“Are you Robin?” A girl with long dark hair that looked
kind of like dreadlocks but kind of not stood at the corner of my garage.
“Wait. You’re not throwing that out are you? That’s so wasteful. There are
hungry people who would gladly eat that.”
I looked from her to the toast and then shoved it in my
mouth. I couldn’t handle a lecture right then.
“Who are you?” I asked through the mouthful of
bread-covered raisins.
She made a disgusted face. “Manners. Heard of them?”
I chewed, swallowed, and brushed the crumbs off my hand.
“Sorry. Yes, I’m Robin. Who are you?”
She smiled then. She had a great smile, one that made
her eyes crinkle at the corners. “I’m Dara.”
“Nice to meet you. Can I help you with something?”
“I don’t know. Possibly.” Dara put her hand to her mouth
and tapped a navy blue-painted fingernail against her blindly-white teeth, like
she was contemplating the question. “Teasing. Nothing you can do for me,
thanks, but I can sure help you.”
I shook my head. “You’ve got the wrong person. I don’t
need help.” At least none that she could give. I doubted she could take on
Zane.
“You’re Robin Westmore.”
She knew my name. Whatever that meant.
“You just moved here from Wisconsin.”
“Five months ago. So not just but yes, I’m from Wisconsin.”
“You’re being bullied by some kid named Zane and you
want it to stop.”
I stood there, next to my garbage can, wondering who
this girl was and what she was up to. It was common knowledge that I was Zane’s
favorite target. Of course I wanted his harassment to stop, anyone would, but
what could she possibly do about it?
“Look, I don’t know who you are but if Zane sent you—”
“Zane didn’t send me.” She paused, just for a beat. “I
guess you could say the universe did.”
I didn’t need this. I had enough drama in my life. I
didn’t need this chick adding crazy to it as well. Marijuana was legal in
Colorado. Maybe she’d been dining on pot gummies or something. The universe
sent her. Yeah, right.
“I’ve got to get going,” I said. “I’m going to miss my
bus.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Dara said. “I can take care of
that.”
I started walking. I had to go six blocks in about two
minutes. If I wasn’t there I’d have to either wait for the next bus, which
wouldn’t be for half an hour, or beg my mom for a ride during which I’d have to
listen to her chew me out about responsibility.
Dara followed, her arms wrapped tightly together. She
wasn’t wearing a jacket.
“Let me try again,” she said. “This is my first time and
I’m not sure how to do this.”
What was she saying? “Are you a prostitute?”
“What? God.” She made a face. “No, I’m not a prostitute.
What kind of hooker comes up to someone by their garage first thing in the
morning?”
“I wouldn’t know. I’m not privy to the methods of the,
uh, working class.”
She said nothing for half a block and then started
laughing. Probably at the thought of me soliciting a hooker.
“Let me try this again.” She cleared her throat and
squared her shoulders. “Yesterday afternoon around three-forty-five you made a
wish.”
“I did what?” Oh yeah, the dandelion. “Do you live next
door or something? How could you know that?”
“I told you, the universe sent me. Your wish has been
granted.”
Bio
Shawn McGuire is the author
of young adult novels that blend contemporary settings and issues with a touch
of fantasy and magic. She started writing after seeing the first Star Wars movie
(that's episode IV) as a kid. She couldn't wait for the next movie to come out
so wrote her own episodes. Sadly, those notebooks are long lost, but her desire
to write is as strong now as it was then.
Her books deal with harder topics (death of a
sibling, divorce, dating violence, bullying, and teen suicide) because she
believes it is important to talk about these things. Those kinds of topics can
be hard to handle and a bit overwhelming, so she infuses a bit of humor in her
work as well because she also believes that a sense of humor can help you get
through just about anything.
Shawn lives in Colorado with her family where
she spends her time reading, cooking and baking, practicing yoga and
meditation, and hiking and camping in the spectacular Rocky Mountains.
Author Links
Website - www.Shawn-McGuire.com
Facebook www.Facebook.com/ShawnMcGuireAuthor
Newsletter signup - http://eepurl.com/V21k1
Pinterest - http://www.pinterest.com/shawnmcguire1/
Twitter - https://twitter.com/Shawn_McGuire
Amazon Author - http://www.amazon.com/Shawn-McGuire/e/B00L0FJDFW/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1420552843&sr=1-2-ent
Author’s Other
Works
The Wish
Makers Series
Buy Links:
Book 4 in The Wish Makers series will release in June 2015.
Please go here
to purchase your copy.
Well, that's all for today, folks! Until next time, WRITE ON!
Jo
