Welcome to today! Isn't it a lovely today?
I'm so excited to share with you the final cover reveal for The Life and Death of Terry Dodd.
After about three or four different designs, I at last hit upon one I actually liked.
Because finances were so tight this first time, and against all advice from every professional indie author you can name, I appointed the task to myself. *grimace* Yeah.
I am only very thankful that God, many years before, inspired me to try my hand at graphic designing. I learned so much from my friends and from lurking on Narnia forums for tutorials. I know I would never have been able to make it if it had not been for that.
Next time, if funds allow, I think I will bestow this task on a real professional graphic artist. As much as I love creating graphics, I keep thinking how blissful it will be to have a beautiful, professional design!
And because you guys have been so fabulous during these last few weeks, below is a free teaser scene from the story. Subscribe to my mailing list in the sidebar to receive a copy of the entire first chapter and audio file.
Summer doesn’t lazily drift upon Los Angeles. It rises with the sun, steaming and hot, and hangs in the air at sunset with smog over the city. It drapes itself over the houses at night, casting a hot sheet of air over the windows until cool ocean breezes push it away. The sun takes a long time to worm its way through the smog and down into the ocean for a cool dip in its waters.The light still hung drowsy in the air as I rolled my bike up the street to our house, the tires crunching sand against pavement.
Behind me a pickup roared around the corner. I squinted back into the headlights, the truck kicking up dust. It never slowed as it swerved back and forth in the street; it kept coming. Faster and faster. My hands stuck to the bike handles, and the car horn blared a long, dragging blast. All breathing stopped within me as the pickup sped closer and closer, the horn glaring louder and louder, deafening in my ears.
Then right in front of me the truck jerked to the side. Sand spewed from the tires, stinging my arms and face as the truck squealed past me and clunked up into Terry Dodd’s driveway. I stood frozen in the light of the dwindling sunset, the colors falling golden over the ridges of the truck. Around the block the neighbors parted curtains, looking out at the street now silent and still.
The driver's door squeaked open and strained against the hinges as Terry Dodd swung out. Grabbing onto the door he dragged his feet out behind him. He swayed backward and slammed the door in one vicious swing. The bang broke the humming of the horn still echoing in my ears. Standing there for a moment, he stepped forward and back to keep his balance. Then he just reached out and grabbed onto the side of the truck. He turned his head, looking back at me out of the corner of his eye.
I gripped my bike handles, cold rushing up over me. I held my breath.
And then Terry Dodd walked off, his head hung low. He ran a hand through his hair and he sighed, so deep.
I’m sorry I got drunk, Joann.
I didn’t mean it, Joann.
I could have helped myself, but I didn’t. I should have.
I’m sorry, Joann.
I watched him plod up the steps to his door. He leaned hard on the wall and pulled open the screen door, pushing himself inside. The screen door slammed.
Mom once said it wasn’t the getting drunk part that made a person feel guilty, it was the knowing they could have stopped themselves and didn’t that does.
One word, and my name. How could it mean ten thousand different things at once?
I jumped and looked to the light coming from our kitchen door. Dad stood there.
“Come inside now.”
I took a deep breath and wheeled my bike up to the porch. Loosening my white-knuckle grip on the handles I leaned them against the rails. I walked up the steps, gazing at Terry Dodd’s house, and Dad put his hand on my shoulder, guiding me inside.