BestsellerBound is a incredible community of indie authors. I created the message board in the late summer of 2010 with the help of resident authors Maria Savva and Stacy Juba. We wanted to celebrate one thing that has kept us all going over the past two years: friendship. Many friendships have been formed on the board. In fact, one of the most common things our members say is that BestsellerBound is the friendliest group of writers they have found. We pride ourselves on that.
To celebrate not only a successful 2 years as a popular indie writer forum, but also the friendships we have made on the board, a few of us organized this blog hop. The theme is, of course, Friendship. You can read blog posts based on the theme of friendship by each of the participating authors. We are sure it will be an interesting and varied blog hop. We are also offering a big prize package to one lucky winner! This is a tour-wide giveaway. Details are at the bottom of this post.
First, all participating authors are sharing a short excerpt having to do with friendship from one of their books.
Dawn cheered up as she ate lunch with Candace and Jamie. They occupied maroon stools built into a long table against the wall. Aromas of meatloaf and gravy mingled in the air with the noise of two hundred kids crammed into one cafeteria.
At her old school, Dawn would deliberately arrive late and buy lunch, preferring standing in line to eating alone. Shed have five minutes to wolf down her food, then the misery would be behind her for another day. Enjoying lunch with friends was bizarre and wonderful at the same time.
Faceoff of the Heart by Lana Voynich
Not Yet Released
“Friends helping friends isn’t the same as taking advantage.” Maggie’s eyes sparked, and Cam knew she was still upset with him for canceling the meeting she’d arranged for him with her son, a scout for the Colorado Avalanche.
“It wasn’t long before Nigel caused a scene at a concert. He had been standing next to Mike, drinking and listening to the band when a young man—aged perhaps eighteen—pushed in front of them and began dancing to the music, swinging his arms around, banging his head, causing his hair to swing into Mike’s face, and generally making a nuisance of himself. The other gig-goers in the vicinity moved aside and shook their heads, some even laughed at the man’s crazy behaviour. Nigel, however, became enraged. This potent mixture of loud aggressive music and strong lager left him intolerant, and he swung his arms towards the man, causing the crowd who were looking on to take a sharp intake of breath. Nigel’s punch landed the man on the floor. The man stood up after lying, disorientated, on the floor for a few moments. He then looked at Mike, whom he thought had thrown the punch. ‘You bastard! Why did you do that?’ He asked through gritted teeth. ‘It wasn’t…’ Mike’s voice drifted off. Such was his loyalty to Nigel, he
was unable to continue.
Before he knew it, the man’s fist was in his face, and blood squirted from Mike’s mouth as a tooth was dislodged.
‘That’ll teach you, you wanker, you bastard,’ slurred the man, obviously drunk. The man walked away, leaving Mike in shock
Nigel was about to run after him, but Mike pulled him back. ‘What the fuck are you doing?’
‘I’m gonna get him,’ said Nigel, trying to pull away from Mike’s grip.
‘No, you’re not!’
Nigel looked on, incredulous. This was the first time Mike had ever ordered him to do anything. It was unexpected. He didn’t know how to react.
They watched the rest of the show and returned home in complete silence. They never mentioned the incident, and Mike told his parents he had bitten into a hot dog that had a stone in it, to explain how he had dislodged a tooth. His father didn’t believe him, Mike could tell by the look in his eyes. All he said was, ‘That Nigel is a bad influence on you, son.’
And so it went on for much of their youth, Nigel getting into scrapes and Mike mostly trying to get them out of trouble. Nigel never did understand why Mike continued to stand by him as a friend, but he was genuinely grateful for that friendship; it was the only thing that kept him sane in an otherwise confusing and turbulent childhood.”
This scene is when Max and Joe first meet; the moment their friendship begins:
As Joe drove, Max found himself still in the passenger seat. So far, so good. At least he wouldn’t be forced to hover over his murder scene for another day.
“I’m still here,” Max said. “Please. I need your help. My wife killed me. Or she had me killed.”
Joe shuddered. His eyes darted toward the passenger seat. “What the hell was in those Calypso Coolers?” he muttered.
“It’s not the drinks. I’m real. Well, as real as a dead person can be.”
“This is insane.”
“You want to talk insane? She killed me over the damn golf clubs! First she tells me she wants a divorce. Next thing I know, I’m hanging out in the parking lot and my body is twenty feet below me.”
Joe swiped a hand over his face. He said nothing.
“I couldn’t get the cops to listen to me. Then they left and I was stuck there in that parking lot. So, can you help me?”
“Help you what?” Joe shook his head. “No, no, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. I can’t help you. You’re dead. You’re not here. I’m losing my mind.”
He realized he was wandering the house, just looking around without noticing things really, lost in his own thoughts. He found himself just outside the den and heard Abigail singing softly to Pam on the floor. They had pulled a blanket down and made a pallet in the middle and were looking up at the fish in the aquarium. Abigail’s voice was so familiar, why had he never heard her sing before? She talked to him several times a week it seemed. Oh, at least every other day. He stood just outside the door, listening, they had not noticed him. She calls me every day, twice. Dennis suddenly realized that Abigail knew what Pam ate for every meal. How did she do that? How did she keep track of things he forgot within minutes of sitting down in the space room? Wilson suddenly came to mind. Wilson, on the phone, or Helen as well, or on the COM link. Voices having conversations with Dennis almost as often as he talked to Pam. How can I spend so much time talking about work instead of taking care of my daughter? The question made him very sad. But they were not always conversations about work, were they?
Dennis stood quietly in the hallway, listening to Abigail sing and realized they were helping him live his life, so very far away but helping him all the same. If Pam missed a meal, someone knew it. Someone would call with a silly excuse but remind him to feed Pam and maybe himself. They are not here because they like the house, or the town, and certainly not because of the work. Dennis felt tears on his cheek. They were here because he needed them. It broke his heart.
I picked at my bread. He planned to leave me, sooner or later.
He ate the half-toasted chunk of bread. “Do you want more? Because if you’re done, we need to be moving.”
“You trust me now?” It was like picking at a scab. I couldn’t stop myself even though I knew it would bleed.
“You agreed to a truce last night. I trust that.”
“Until when, Tayvis?”
“Until you break it.”
“How do you define breaking the truce? I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know who to trust, who not to trust. How can I trust you to be what you say you are?”
“Same way I have to trust you.”
“You could just kill me.”
“Except I’m not an assassin. Are you?”
That hit too close to home. I was very good at shooting things. I never wanted to shoot anything but a practice target, one reason I’d refused to join the Patrol.
“No.” I left it hanging in the morning air.
“It might help if you told me something easier to believe.”
“You want me to lie to you now?” I shook out the blanket, then folded it.
“You grew up on Tivor and somehow got admitted to the Patrol Academy on Eruus. That by itself is almost impossible to believe. No one leaves Tivor.”
“You aren’t lying, are you?”
“I changed my name as soon as I figured out how. That’s why it’s Dace, just Dace and nothing more.”
“So what was it before?”
“None of your business.” I stuffed the blanket into his pack.
“Dace,” he knelt down next to me, grabbing my wrist. “I already apologized for yesterday. I really could use your help.”
“Aren’t you afraid I’m going to kill you in your sleep? Or sell you out to whoever offers me the most money?”
“No. I’m not afraid of that. Not from you.”
“You don’t trust me. How can you say that?”
“Gut instinct.” He let go of my hand.
“What if I am plotting with Shomies Pardui?”
“Then I wouldn’t be here. I’d be dead in an alley in Gragensberg.”
He stood, jerking the strings on his pack tight. He saddled the horse, tying the pack on behind.
I had never trusted anyone, not really. He asked a lot from me that I didn’t know how to give. I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
“Coming?” He looped the reins over the horse’s neck.
“I hate horses.”
Check out the following blogs, for some great stories about friendship!
Darcia Helle: A Word Please
Jaleta Clegg: The Far Edge of Normal
Maria Savva’s Goodreads Blog
Stacy Juba’s One Stop Reading
Lana Voynich: Scribblings From My Mind
Joel Blaine Kirkpatrick: The Tale’s The Thing
Now on to the giveaway! One lucky winner will win all of the following prizes:
Secrets by Darcia Helle (Print)
Haunted by Maria (Print)
Harmony’s Passing by Joel Blaine Kirkpatrick (Print)
Belkin Mod Standing Cover for Kindle Fire
Sink or Swim by Stacy Juba (ebook)
Alaskan Healing by Lana Voynich (ebook)
Nexus Point by Jaleta Clegg (ebook)
This is a tour-wide giveaway, so you can enter from any one of the blogs. Use the Rafflecopter form and follow the instructions for multiple entries. Each author has included a simple question as a way for you to earn bonus entries. The answers can be found within that author’s friendship blog post. You can answer all the questions on one form, or answer from the form on each author’s blog.
This giveaway is open to everyone 16 and older, everywhere in the world. Enter between Monday, November 12 and midnight, EST on Monday, November 26.
Thanks for reading.