Thunderstruck by Brenda Drake

Thunderstruck Release & Swag Bag Giveaway!!!!!

Before we get to the goodies, let's get to the good reads. Here's more info on this release!

Thunderstruck
by Brenda Drake
Published by: Entangled Crave
Publication date: September 11th 2017
Genres: Mystery, Mythology, Romance

Synopsis:

Stevie Moon is famous…at least to the subscribers on her comic review vlog. At school, she’s as plain as the gray painted walls in the cafeteria. So when Blake, the hot new guy at school, shows an interest in her, she knows trouble when she sees it. Been there. And never doing it again.
As the son of the god Thor, Blake Foster’s been given an important mission—to recover the Norse god Heimdall’s sacred and powerful horn before someone uses it to herald in the destruction of the entire universe. But while Blake is great in a fight, the battlefield that is a high school’s social scene is another matter.
Blake knows his only choice is to team up with the adorable Stevie, but she’s not willing to give him even the time of day. He’ll need to woo the girl and find the horn if he hopes to win this war. Who better to tackle Stevie’s defenses than the demi-god of thunder?
“Every page brims with captivating Norse mythology and deliciously creative worldbuilding.” Pintip Dunn, New York Times bestselling author.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30243084-thunderstruck?ac=1&from_search=true

Purchase:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B074ZLNFYT/

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/thunderstruck-brenda-drake/1126998406?ean=9781975631055

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/thunderstruck-18

AUTHOR BIO:

Brenda Drake is a New York Times bestselling author of young adult fiction. She grew up the youngest of three children, an Air Force brat, and the continual new kid at school. Her fondest memories growing up is of her eccentric, Irish grandmother’s animated tales, which gave her a strong love for storytelling. So it was only fitting that she would choose to write stories with a bend toward the fantastical. When she’s not writing or hanging out with her family, she haunts libraries, bookstores, and coffee shops, or reads someplace quiet and not at all exotic (much to her disappointment).

Check out the book and shout-out to Xpresso book tours for putting this all together!

GIVEAWAY HERE--> a Rafflecopter giveaway

Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/d04251232016/

For even more reading and even a playlist related to this release, message me!

Dark Vs. Light

She would ask me if I was okay,
And I would murmur something like a yeah, I'm fine
With a nervous smile,
Unsure of how to say,
That some days,
Our demons are just harder to fight, harder to face,
But, I think she always knew.

I wish I was brave enough to tell her,
That way I would know for sure
That she cared for me anyway,
I knew she hid monsters too,
And I cared for her anyway.

You & I & the World

If we are destined
To be lonely 
Forever,
Then maybe,
You and I,
Can sit side by side,
Alone, together.

Unrequited

I might never have you the way I want you 
But they'll never have you in the ways I do,
And, that will have to be enough.

What I've Learned This Year

Good things,
They happen,
Slowly

Post-It Poetry #6

I think we're unimaginative as adults because we are taught as kids that playtime is something that can be put in boxes and asked for when it is wanted. Creativity should be free and available without question so that we grow up thinking we can be whatever we want to be, even if we have to create the opportunities ourselves and break some rules in the process.

Post-It Poetry #5

Some of the sweetest words you've ever said;
She didn't say it much; but I could tell she loved

Mantra for Me

In the darkness, you will find yourself. In the light, you will find the part of yourself that is ready to find, help, and be with others.

Post-It Poetry #4

Every writer started with the same 26 letters. You can be among the greatest too. After all, we are all working with the same palette ⬤⬤⬤

Boundaries

I breathe in the outside air,

Feel the elements on my face,

Let my eyes graze over you,

And realize as I catch the city through the window,

There are always boundaries,

Yes, even though I am free to roam,

I am still captive

the Last

I never wanted
To be the last,
At anything,
Until I realized
That we could be
The last ones,
The last generation,
Of a nation, that witnessed
What it was to watch the world
Burn in terror.
The last people to turn their back
On those who had nobody
To hear their cries.
Racism and hate would be words
Just words, used only in the most
Desolate corners of this world,
While the rest stood
Shoulder to shoulder.
We'd be the last ones to teach,
Our children what role was theirs
Because of a letter that gave them
A gender on a piece of paper,
This world would be theirs,
Just theirs.
We'd be the last ones to care,
To define what gender even was
Or who anybody loved,
Or what the color of our skin
Meant, as if music
Didn’t sing, from within,
Sinking into the soil, lifting us up
To the sky.
We'd know what true knowledge was,
What communication was,
What connection was,
All of us connected,
You to me to you to you to them to everybody
Us we, all of us somebody.
We'd be the last ones anyone would ever expect
To have history repeat itself while we were watching,
We were changing bits of this world, not stopping,
But stop, at this rate we’ll just be
The last ones.
The ones they’ll quote
As the last feet to ever walk a clean earth,
All we saw was hurt,
Change on the verge,
And we took it backwards,
Women under siege
Skin versus police,
What’s going to be
The line that you see
And say stop.
What tragedy, what war
What children, what blood
Do you need in a picture
For all of y’all to listen?
What weapon,
What amount,
What time,
What count,
Of lives lost, money cost
Until you see that
You will be the last one,
All alone.
This earth it gave birth to us,
These people gave love to us,
What do we do when all
The good ones up and leave us?
I don’t want to be the last one left.
I never wanted to be the last,
At anything,
At anything,
Until I realized we could be the last,
The last ones to make mistakes,
Fear our fates,
Raise broken dreams,
And crying faces.
We could be the last ones,
But we can’t take,
Away the dark,
Without all of our, 
And I mean all of our, 
Lights.

Post-It Poetry #3

I'm not sure if writers were meant to love the "right" way. 

I believe writers were meant to fall in love with ideas, notice the unnoticed, and distract themselves from a firm reality.

But they will show you a light you emit, where you once thought there was only darkness.

Our Souls Are More Than The Stories We Sing

If there is one thing that I have learned from change, it is that sometimes things don't work out the way we want them to. Sometimes we don't get to say what we wanted to say; but, our souls are more than the stories we tell. "It" is in the silence as much as the words. "It" is in the candy you leave on someones desk and in the air when you turn to someone on the boat ride home and share a part of yourself. "It" is captured in the moment in time, even if it was just a moment, that a group of people became a family. In the questions we ask as much as the ones that we don't, in the image we see when our eyes close for a second as our heads lean against the cool glass of a dirty bus, we become more entwined with who we are going to be and the path that we were meant for.

Tell Them

This week the world is watching. We are on the verge of handing power over to a man that most of America's population doesn't trust. Instead of focusing on the negative, it is time to spread some hope. By combining some of my original thoughts from right after the election, with some of my more recent thoughts, I hope to illustrate that just by being kind and respectful, you can do your part.

Tell Them

Tell your family you're afraid. They are probably afraid too. Talk to them over dinner with full stomachs and happy hearts. Tell them you love them and you were raised right. You are going to do what is right. Tell your friends it's hard but you're glad you're on the same page. Tell them to stand up and come with you as you march in the streets. Tell your coworkers about it, invite them too.

Tell your kids you love them. Tell them you will love them no matter who they decide to love. Tell them you will be proud of them for being friends with a child who doesn't look, talk, or think the same, even if nobody else wants to be their friend. Tell them we have stumbled but that we will get back up. Show them the flaws we pretended this country did not have for so long and spend every day trying to show them the goodness as well. From the bottom up, we will change this.

Tell a stranger. Tell a stranger you are broken too but that you have hope. Scream from the mountaintops that you are not afraid. Protest so others know you will not let them spend four years in fear. Fight for them. Prove we are better than this. Stand with everyone for which our government won't. Fight for every person for which they won't. For each person the other side thinks is not worthy, say to them, I will love you. Say this: You. Are. Worth. It.

Tell yourself in the mornings that it will be a good day. When you turn on the news and see struggle, remind yourself you are trying to make the world a better place. Look in the mirror and tell yourself you are strong. You are brave but it's okay that you're not quite as brave yet as the people who have fallen for us. You are trying. You are lucky, you are breathing and there is still beauty beyond the brokenness. You see hope. You are someone’s hope.

I say this and more, to you in the middle of my journey.  Yes, I have been humbled by mental health struggles and trauma but I have also been shown hope from seeing the world and knowing good people. I have walked my own road. It's been quite a road. I used to have these nightmares, these truly terrible, life-altering nightmares. They were fueled by trauma and felt as real as the air I breathed. 

In these nightmares, terrible things would happen to the people I loved and I would awake shaken, drenched in sweat, and afraid. Often, I would reach for my phone, to talk to someone, to make sure that the ones I loved were okay. There is a moment between the time you press send or call and the time you get an answer that is unlike any other. It's the feeling that what you are afraid of most, could have happened. It's the fear that the ones you love might not be okay. 

I often think of the feeling of loss as lingering in that suspense forever. It doesn't really feel real that somebody is gone. There's nothing tangible as proof but you press send and they don't answer. I don't wish that feeling on anybody. I'm lucky that thus far, for the most part, I have received the answers I wanted. 

If that was you, in that moment, waiting for your child to answer, would it matter who they loved? If it was your sister or brother, would it matter they just started dating someone with a different color on their skin? Could you really think so low of anybody that you feel they don't deserve the peace of mind that comes with having an answer? They deserve a safe place to live, health care, and the education to make their goals a reality. The single mother with three jobs deserves the same peace of mind that you do, even if that means a clinic that you don't agree with stays in her neighborhood.

Aren't we at a place now where we should be lifting people up? Forget understanding each other but how about living side by side complacently in the same country, like a husband and wife who no longer speak but go about their routine and benefit from a shared rent check. Can we at least be that? It's just easier not to fight. Can't we as a country say, let me be me and you be you and we'll all have some peace of mind and we can go back to sleep in different rooms.

How many phone calls will end in voicemails if we keep going down this road? How many children awaking from nightmares in the middle of the night? Look at the people around you and be the best you can be for them. Be someone’s hope because they are worth it and you are worth it. We all deserve to be a little less afraid.

Snowy Snow

It is hard to believe that today we were shoveling snow off a Brooklyn sidewalk and just a few weeks ago I was at the top of a glacier. There was glacial water and photos galore and dark skies behind us. For a few magical moments though, the sky started to part in front of us. The snow has such a different meaning when it's not a responsibility. The world seems so vast without buildings in the way. One of my many dreams is to travel the world with my loved ones, so we can all reach the places we want to reach. This was Iceland --->

Poem
I want to climb mountains with you.
I want our feet to play along
Foreign shores and when we leave,
We will have to shake sand out of our shoes.
I want to see your eyes light up,
The moment you fall, in love
With a new a city at night.
I want to memorize the way
Your face is carved into the night sky
Behind you, the waves lashing
Against the boat we are on.
I want to wake up just a little bit early,
While you still rest, and frame the moment
With the window behind you.
I will feel safe then, content knowing you are too,
And I will wish to stay there forever,
Though I know we have more mountains to climb.

Romantic or Just Real? A look at Writers

It is easy to admire writers who have said the words that we ourselves cannot say. We fall for writers who have given purpose to our struggle. To us, these writers have romanticized experiences we've been through that may be too painful for us to write about. Look at all the writers that suffered through addiction, mental health issues, and of course, the loss of love. Those moments have all been preserved in classic works.

Lately though, instead of looking it as an experience they took, romanticized, and made into a masterpiece, I've been looking at said pieces of work as just an experience they needed to write down. While some novels seem grand it is possible that in reality, the writer at the time (most of the time) probably sat down and just did as Hemingway suggested, bled onto the page. It wasn't necessarily their intention to make their work anything but a journal. They might have had no choice but to keep writing until their pain had given way into something greater. 

I came to this conclusion thinking of my own journey. If I was to sit down and write a really honest account of what I'd been through and write it from a hopeful place, my work too could be idolized. What we look at with rose colored glasses, such as finding love in a time of war or surviving a terrible tragedy, was for many writers, probably just life. Truth be told, for the first time I am trying to write away something inside of me that just won't go. The more I write, the more I need to write. The amount of words seem endless and I can see how easy it would to get lost in desire or pain. 

How hard would it be to have a drink and an adventure with friends and call it inspiration? Could writing that experience down become a story that years from now, somebody yearned to live? My point is that I truly believe that for some there is no other way to find their way unless it is through written word. This change of view I've had is also a way to make the "greats" more real and easier to relate to. Truthfully, some of us just have no choice but to bleed ink until we've run out of things to say.

New Year, Same but Slightly Improved Me

I've been inspired a lot by love lately which is ironic since it is usually the last thing on my mind. I think love is what the world needs more of right now though and I'm not just talking about you and me love. I'm talking about the kind of we love that we all need; between friends, between family, between strangers. It's a new year and while I've managed to look on the bright side of things for the whole two days it's been 2017, I thought it would be nice to leave a marker to look back on when those feelings start to fade. A new year is not for a "new me". Life is not so black and white. Sure, we change but we change constantly. It's recently been pointed out to me that the you that was an hour ago isn't even the same you, you are in the present. The new year is for learning and yearning and achieving. It's for fitting into old jeans and listening to new songs. The new year is for meeting new people but making time for old friends. This year is for bringing the good ideas for good times and reflecting on the bad ones. This year is for building on a foundation you have already laid. 

I also don't believe a New Year is the only way to reflect on the passage of time. Perhaps your "New Year" starts two months from now or on your birthday or on the day the flowers bloom. Break through those labels! However, there was a lot of relief as we crossed over into 2017 and a lot of anticipation as to what is to come. We all woke up to start January and were hit with the unfortunate reality that much of the world is still broken. However, if we want to look back in a year and see how much we've risen, we have to start now. Forget competition, the world has plenty of space. Pour your love and good ideas, your happiness and your hope wherever you can, as much as you can. Lift others up and give yourself a break when you need one. DREAM BIG. The more of us that succeed, the more of us that turn around and bring others up with us, well then the more of us that can enjoy the view of a beautiful world.

Here's to working hard and getting farther.

Love,

E

Inspiration

There are a thousand ways to love someone.
So when I say I will love you the right way,
I mean in the way you need me to, in the moment.