Cover Reveal First Choice, Second Chance a Romance by Fallon Brown

Today I’m sharing fellow WIPpeteer’s Fallon Brown‘s cover reveal for her novel First Choice, Second Chance, the first in her small town contemporary romance series Kurztown, set to be released 8/18/15. And, just to keep you in suspense just a bit longer, the blurb:

One wrong choice doesn’t have to lead to another

Seven years ago, he watched her drive away.

Lila Corelli was the love of Mason Akeley’s life, but she chose a music career and another man over him. He thought it would destroy him, but he’s been scraping by; on the family farm and in life. Now, she’s back in town, and he feels like he’s barely hanging on.

She made a wrong choice.

Lila knows she made a mistake. She thought she had been on the right path; to her career, love, her life. Instead, she never saw the disaster one wrong choice could cause. Now, with everything gone, she returns to her hometown, hoping to find her way to a new path.

Mason’s love for Lila has never died, but he’s afraid to open himself to be hurt again. Lila chose the wrong future once, and she worries she’ll be making another bad choice that will only lead to more destruction. But, if they can untangle their past from their present, they just might be able to find their future together.

Okay, ready for it?

The great cover, designed by Marianne Nowicki (

The great cover, designed by Marianne Nowicki (

And to add to your excitement, an excerpt of your very own.

He held up a hand to stop her. “Give me a shot of Jack.” He caught Lila at the edge of his vision. “Actually make it a double.”

Jess hesitated then poured the drink and passed it over to him. He took the first sip and winced at the burn. He wasn’t sure if he would ever get used to it. The whiskey warmed the parts of him that had gone cold with Lila’s arrival. He kept his eyes focused on the wall across the bar as he took the second sip. He still knew the moment she stepped up beside him. He didn’t know if her scent still lived in his memory and he recognized it, or if it went deeper. He didn’t even have to hear her voice. It was in his head, in his dreams, every day and every night. When she ordered a drink, it twisted around his heart again.

His fingers tightened around the glass. He was almost afraid it would shatter right there in his fist. He dragged in some air through his nose, but it only came back out sounded strangled. He started to turn away. He needed to put some space between them. He couldn’t handle having her so close. As soon as he took a step, her hand was on his arm, the muscles in it cording tighter. “Mason.”

He was going to explode, shatter into tiny pieces no one would ever be able to put back together again. He had to get away. He didn’t even respond to her saying his name. He set the glass on the top of the bar. It must have been harder than he planned because a crack sounded when he did it. He didn’t even look back. “Put it on my tab, Jess. All of it.”

His head pounded. He didn’t think it was the alcohol or the music. It was Lila. It had always been Lila. He pushed out through the door. Then braced his hand against the side of the building and squeezed his eyes shut. The door opened again, and he didn’t even look behind him. Instead he strode across the small parking lot to his truck. She called his name again, but he didn’t stop. He checked his mirror to make sure she wasn’t right behind him, he certainly didn’t hate her that much. She still stood close to the building. She had her arms wrapped around her, and stared after him. His eyes started to burn. Then, he backed out of his parking spot and pulled out of the lot. The gravel spun under his tires, but he didn’t care. He wanted to put distance between them. Before he lost the grip he barely kept on his sanity.

Awesome stuff! Add it on Goodreads or pre-order now.

A bit about the author: Fallon Brown was born and raised in a tiny town in the northwestern corner of Pennsylvania. At one time, she dreamed of having a cabin in the woods or mountains where she could be left alone to write. Instead she spent three years studying psychology before realizing that wasn’t for her. She now lives outside of a slightly larger small town in the same corner of her home state with her husband, two children, dog, and cat.

She spends her days interfering in the lives of fictional characters while trying to keep a semblance of a clean house. Often the clean house bit fails.

Follow her on Goodreads, Facebook, Twitter, and don’t forget to check out her blog for all the latest news and updates.



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Close to the Edge

I will admit, I have not done much writing over the past week. Several reasons. One of which is this

It still needs some tweaks but it's close.

It still needs some tweaks but it’s close.

Even though EoD is in the hands of Alphas and will likely need much revision once it’s back, I am ever hopeful it will soon be ready for the world.

Also, lots of planning and scheming and researching and planning and scheming all for our favorite boy, Driev. I want to make his coming out the bash of the decade. As soon as I get a clearer idea of when that will be, I will be offering up ARCs of Bound in Shadow for review and taking offers of help in spreading the word. Be forewarned.

In betwixt, I’m dealing with an irritated sciatic nerve. Anyone have any great solutions for that? It’s really starting to tick me off. I’m not a patient er… patient. Nor am I tolerant of things like this. Grrrrrr.

Anyhow, my WIPpet math this week goes like this — I wrote this post yesterday, so 14 sentences for the 14th on the 15th. And, yesterday was apparently my Fourth Anniversary as a WordPress blogger, so consider this the celebration. For context, Roe has just told Fader something that didn’t get her the reaction she expected…

 “Is there something you didn’t understand in all that?” she asked, irritation making her voice sharp. “Should… I… speak… slow… er?”

“What is it I have done to earn such ire? I did not force you out upon the street yestermorn.”

Roe twirled a braid around her finger, and bit the inside of her cheek. “No. My own stupidity did that. Them with long noses find trouble more often than not.”

The hood tipped. “Your nose is not overly long.”

“It’s a saying, you –” Roe’s scowl deepened because his eyes had brightened in mirth. She opened her mouth to say something scathing when the bar maid reappeared, balancing the trenchers on her forearms. She delivered them and two mugs with impressive dexterity and not a drop spilled.

Not sure if I’ll be around next Wednesday as I leave for OH early in the am and won’t be back until late Monday.


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Bound in Shadow in the Land of Tradition

Wednesday I mentioned I would give you the final wrap-up on the agenting of Bound in Shadow ~ The Coinblade Chronicles. A while back I wrote this post which summed up BiS~CBC‘s history, and my foray into the world of Traditional Publishing. Not my first time in that rodeo, but a lot has changed. And nothing has changed. *sigh* It’s still many hoops and much time with little result.

Anyhow, if you want the background, follow the link above to the original post. My update is thus:

  • A total of 40 queries sent out.
  • 1 partial request which then resulted in a rejection.
  • 12 form rejections
  • 27 closed-no-response

The CNR designation seems to be the norm among many comments on QueryTracker. They rank right up there with those who receive a form rejection more than a year after they sent the original query. No, that is not a typo. More. Than. A. Year.


Okay, I get that agents are people, too. Messages overwhelm their in-box. Perhaps some get lost in cyber-space delivered by digital turtles fighting a head wind. But… a year?!!? Because we authors have nothing better to do than wait patiently for the wheels of tradition to make one small rotation, right?

Please, don’t think I’m slamming traditional publishing or literary agents. If anything, I’m slamming the process. And (at least for now) the door on it. That could always re-open. I’m not locking it. I’ve just used up my store of patience with it and moving on.



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*waits for crowd to calm down*

Yes, I’m aware it appears as though I’ve fallen from the face of the earth. It occasionally feels that way. Not many posts. Very little social media interaction. Haven’t made the WIPpet rounds or answered comments (and for that I apologize profusely!) But I’m still here. I’ve just been super, super busy. For those of you just here for the WIPpet, feel free to scroll to the bottom. For the rest… See, it all started with this:

Yes, the hubs and I are just handy enough and just tight-fisted enough to attempt projects such as this.

Yes, the hubs and I are just handy enough, and just tight-fisted enough, to attempt projects such as this, even when we have no clue what we’re doing.

That’s a retaining wall, for those who may not recognize it. Not a huge one. Only about 4′ high at the tallest point. It replaced five overgrown trees (removed over winter) and a dilapidated wall of old railroad ties.

That was followed by 12 people and dogs descending upon my house for five days of stockdog training with an awesome trainer from New Mexico. Great fun and lots of learning but boy-oh-boy little else got done.

Four days later, I took a six hour road trip to Iowa to put all that training to the test. And that’s where this happened:

My young dog Jig.

My young dog Jig. There will eventually be more about her latest ventures on my Shadowdance Farm blog.

Without going into lengthy explanations, the showy ribbon was for High In Trial Cattle. Which means Jig and I did fairly well. Oh, plenty of not-so-good moments during the course of the weekend, but she’s young and we’re still working out the kinks.

Another 6 hour road trip home, and back to the day job. Boo!

Somehow despite all that I managed to type ~Finis~ at the end of this:

EoDAlphaWhich as of Monday night is now in the hands of three highly skilled, extremely brutal, and much appreciated Alpha Readers.


On top of all that, Driev also made a trip. He is now in the hands of editor Kate Johnston.

So… yeah. All that. I’m gone again this weekend for a relaxing Girl’s Weekend, home for a bit, then gone to OH for 5 days or so for more stockdog training. Which will keep my mind off EoD and Driev for a time.

Next writing project? Back to Roe and Fader and The Adorned. In whose honor I give you a tiny, random WIPpet for this Wednesday. WIPpet math goes thus, adding up the date (7+8+15) I went to page 30, down 8 paragraphs for this:

Fader shifted closer. “Your thoughts have suddenly gone dark.” His voice remained a low, rumbling murmur against her ear.

And for those who are interested in an update on the agenting of Driev. Final stats are in. I’ll have that post on Friday.


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Lambs and WIPpet Wednesday

Which really have nothing whatsoever to do with one another. However, a couple weeks ago, ReGi requested more lamb pictures. So, yesterday I went out with my camera and attempted to get some. Unfortunately, the sheep were not being cooperative. I did manage a few shots, but no one was doing anything cute.

No, not a lamb, just a ewe who decided to step in front of the camera every time I tried to shoot one of the babies. Must be their Media Manager.

No, not a lamb, just a ewe who decided to step in front of the camera every time I tried to shoot one of the babies. Must be their Media Manager.

One of the white lambs, trying to make a get-away.

One of the white lambs, trying to make a get-away.

Coal being shy and hiding behind a couple adults.

Coal being shy and hiding behind a couple adults.

I don't know about you, but the tan lamb looks a bit suspicious...

I don’t know about you, but the tan lamb to the left looks a bit suspicious… like she got caught doing something, or thinking about doing something.

And now… your WIPpet for the week. Utilizing the ever-malleable WIPpet math, I give you 8 paragraphs because today is the 17th and 1+7. Those of you who have read the first two books of my Darkness & Light series will either find this shocking or hysterical — depending how you feel about Bolin, that is. No context for you. I will say, it is well-deserved. Again, first draftish, forgive the roughness of it.

Bolin propped himself up on his elbows. His skull ached, but the steady throbbing he felt didn’t come from any physical injury.

“They are my wards,” Dain said to Bolin’s unspoken question. “At the moment, they are around both you and Maurar. I am still attempting to work out what to do with the pair of you.”

“You might do well to have me executed.” Bolin swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up.

“Danya Maurar as well, then?” Dain shook his head, still looking out the window. “No. I think not.”

Bolin dropped his head into his hands, not even lifting it when a gentle knock on the door heralded Blyth’s appearance. She carried a tray with a large mug and a pitcher of steaming water. She said nothing as she mixed something in the mug and then came to stand before Bolin. He never saw her hand move when he looked up, and actually heard the slap before the sting of it across his cheek registered with enough force to bring tears to his eyes.

She shoved the mug at him. “Now drink this.”

Bolin was too stunned not to comply. “Danya –“

“Say nothing. Not one word.” Blyth lowered herself into a chair, looking far older than her years.

And now a quick update.

  • The first draft of EoD is nearing its conclusion and will be going to several Alpha Readers in July. I mentioned that before. Now I reaffirm. I should be writing the climax within the next week. All that remains after that is tying everything up with a nice, pretty, satisfying bow.
  • Driev has a date with his editor firmly in place. Also in July.
  • Which means I’ll have time next month to return to Roe and Fader. Whoot-whoot!

Of course, July is also my busiest month as far as other things. Let’s see… I’ll be in IA over the 4th, then gone the next weekend, home for a week, then in OH for 5 days or so. Yeah. At least I won’t have a lot of time to dwell on EoD and CBC.

Question for the Twitter savvy: I know how to get Twitter to post to Facebook by using #fb. And, in theory, I know how to link Twitter to Facebook. I even figured out how to link it to a page I manage (my author page) as opposed to my profile. HOWEVER, every time I go into the App section of Twitter, make the change, then leave, it reverts. *insert very grumpy face here* What’s up with that??? Anyone have any insight?

And, since I’ve been including music of late, let me dash over to my Pinterest board and grab some random thing… Here we go, Gammy Bird from The Shipping News. This entire soundtrack is excellent. The movie is pretty good as well.


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A Wednesday Interlude

No philosophical arguments for your WIPpet this week. For the 10th day of June, I give you 10 paragraphs from EoD — plus one bonus paragraph just because. This will be your first look at Ferris, a new character that insisted I include him. He (thankfully) did not hire Berk’s agent, and so does not have his own POV. Unfortunately, that won’t save him from just a bit of torment. In this scene, however, he and Ciara are relaxing at the house of a friend. I did have a different scene picked out, but since I’ve been including some music in my posts of late, I decided this one was far more apropos. (Just a side note, Mercien and his son Engel are very minor characters. They’ve a bit role, nothing more.) And, again, this is very first draftish so go easy on me.

No, this isn't Ferris, or Mercien, just an example of a lute playing minstrel.

No, this isn’t Ferris, or Mercien, just an example of a lute playing minstrel.  Bard With Lute by Daniel Eskridge

That evening after dinner Ferris finally wore Mercien down and convinced him to bring out his lute, and Ciara got to see a totally different side to the Lord of High House. The instrument transformed him from the chill, stiff lord into a passionate, animated man who — given his choice of songs and the emotion he poured into them — clearly loved his children and mourned both his wives — even the living one. He proved to be quite an excellent musician, with a rich voice. His youngest son, Engel, paired with him on several songs including a comical tune that had them all clapping along and laughing at Engel’s acting out of some of the lyrics.

“Turn about is fair play,” Mercien said after his fifth song, holding the lute out to Ferris.

“Ah, you should have let me go first, then,” Ferris said, trying to wave him off. “I’m not fit to follow your performance. Perhaps her ladyship –“

“Oh no!” Ciara threw up both hands, shaking her head. “I know nothing of the lute, and my singing is more likely to set the dogs howling and scare the horses out of the barn.”

“Come on, Ferris,” Engel said. “Do The Legend of Khonrah and I’ll join in on the chorus.”

The Legend of Khonrah, with no time to practice? You’re mad, boy.”

But even as Ferris teased Engel, he picked up the lute and began moving his fingers across the strings, humming softly to himself.

“That’s not it,” Engel complained.

“Hush.” Mercien leaned back in his chair, a smile lingering on his lips. “He’s taking the long road.”

“Haven’t touched the strings in quite some time,” Ferris said absently, eyes half closed as though he needed to concentrate on his chording. “I need to find my way back.”

The room fell silent save for the crackling of the fire and the gentle tune lifting from beneath Ferris’s fingers. Ciara had never heard anything like it before. The music started quiet and halting, as though Ferris was searching for just the right song to play, but his voice drew all the notes together. He sang in Cearnease, barely loud enough to be heard, and though Ciara didn’t know the language, images flooded her mind, sounds and smells claimed her senses — waves crashing, the scent of sea salt and lush grass and blooming heather, the feel of the wind — through it all spilled a feeling of longing, as well as great joy tempered by deep grief.

I couldn’t find any specific lute music that fit the bill, but here’s a bit to listen to if you’ve a mind.



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You Might Be a Writer If…

Kristen Lamb is as funny as they come, and some of these are SOOOO spot on!

Kristen Lamb's Blog

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A lot of “stuff” has been going on in my life lately. Hard stuff. Heavy stuff. The kind of stuff that just makes me want to write massacre scenes….except I am so brain dead I had to google how to spell “massacre.”

Masicker? Missucker?

WHAT AM I DOING???? *breaks down sobbing*

I am supposed to be an adult an expert okay, maybe functionally literate. Fine, I give up! I have nothing left to saaaaayyyyyy. I am all out of woooords *builds pillow fort*.

I figured it’s time for a bit of levity. Heck, I need a good laugh. How about you guys?

We writers are different *eye twitches* for sure, but the world would be SO boring without us. Am I the only person who watches Discovery ID and critiques the killers?

You are putting the body THERE? Do you just WANT to go to prison? Why did you STAB…

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