It’s Release Day: Paper Cranes.

Hey, guys! I am so excited. Writing life is crazy (more on that in my next blog post), but today I’m taking a moment to share my latest release, Paper Cranes, which is releasing in eBook at midnight tonight!

This twisty suspense brought me back to my heart pounding roots and it was so much fun to write! Paper Cranes is my book in the multi-author, multi-genre, madness that is the Crazy Town series. It follows twenty-one-year-old Yelena Ogden while she tries to find her place in the world away from her serial-killer father, Daddy Lester. Yes folks, you read that right. Her father is a crazier-than-a-loony-toon serial killer, and he wants her back home. What complications might arise for poor Yelena when he’s not the only one with designs on her?

Click here to get your copy today, and keep reading for a snippet from Chapter 1.

10:00 p.m. October 3, Crazy Town, Alabama

A loud voice jolts me from my nightmares while lamp posts whiz by me outside the bus window.

“Crazy Town. Next stop, Crazy Town.”

With a snort, I check the bus ticket I pinched off an old lady at the station in Savanah and my heart sinks. I thought it was a nickname for Graceville when she said it. This is my stop? I shift in my seat and pull my backpack from behind my feet.

The bus’s brakes squeal, as it pulls to a stop and I rise. Sleep still tugs at my bones, and I stumble when I head for the front end.

“You sure this is the right place for you, miss?” The driver pushes his cap backward to scratch his forehead.

I raise a shoulder and hop to the ground. Exhaust surrounds me while the bus pulls away to leave me on the side of the road. I take in the empty night and snicker, catching sight of the town’s welcome sign a few feet away. The words, Welcome To Crazy Town, are scrawled in ebony and ivory with a road sign which reads Meditation Way beside it. “Maybe a place with a sense of humor won’t be too terrible. I cast a glance at the lone wooden bench of the bus stop and consider a night there, but the breeze stirs to blow the idea away.

“Red hands, green ing. Did you catch the red hands? They’re everywhere!”

I whirl to find a disheveled, dark-haired, woman in a pale silk bathrobe with a notebook clutched to her breast. I scowl and shuffle a few paces off. Keep your distance, house slippers.

She rushes me. “There’s much to do! I’ll be late! People will hate this book if I don’t get it perfect. I’ll have terrible reviews.”

“Get off me, freak!” I shove her, and she stumbles backward.

“Hey! Hands off my sister!” A boombox clatters to the pavement when another woman with headphones flies at me.

I whip out my knife and flip open the thin six-inch blade.

She backs off with her palms raised, “Easy!” and drops to her knees beside her sister to smooth her hair away from her forehead. “It’s alright. Everyone loves your work. I left a five-star review, remember? People raved about it.” She helps the woman to her feet.

“Green ing. Green ing,” the one in the robe mutters. “New character. Fresh off the train of thought.”

The sister scans me from one end to the other. “Newbie, huh?”

“What about it?”

She rolls her eyes and offers a handshake. “Name’s Eevie and this is my sister Jussie.”

I return the gesture but withhold my name.

When I don’t speak, she hoists her boombox off the ground to balance it on her hip. A pair of unattached headphones hang on her neck while she bops to silent music. “Got any place to stay?”

“Don’t worry about me.” Nutcase. I retract the blade and slip it into my rear pocket.

“Check out Betty and Beulah’s B&B—”

“I don’t have cash.”

Eevie bobs her head. “Got it. There’s a new motel off Contentment Court.” She points behind her. “Follow this road until you hit Bizarre Boulevard, it’s a weird circle with a gazebo in the middle. Follow the boulevard until you hit Contentment Court and go until it dead ends. That’s where you’ll find the motel. Norma, the owner, will help you out. Tell her you came because you can’t live through another night of Beulah May’s stew. She’ll take you in and might pay you to stay.”

I size them both up.

“She sneers quite often,” Jussie says and scribbles something in her notebook with the nail of her index finger.

“What’s wrong with her?”

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