SCAVENGER HUNT INFO HERE!!

Hey guys, it’s Selene Castrovilla on my blog today for the big Scavenger Hunt! Yayy! *Kermit flail*

SELENE CASTROVILLA is an award-winning young adult author. Unpunished: Book Three of her Rough Romance Series, is coming Spring 2018! Melt, Book One, was the winner of six awards, including the IndieReader Discovery Award and the SCBWI Spark Award. Signs of Life, Book Two, has been called “a literary masterpiece.”

When I got her name from the Scavenger Hunt folks, as my blog feature, I thought, “Why, her name kind of sounds familiar.” And then after a while it hit me. Way back in the day, somewhere in the early 2000’s, I drove out to a writing conference in Iowa City to see some really good editors. While there, I met a writer who was driven and determined and damned good at her work. I was super-impressed by her drive and grit.

I emailed Selene and said, “Were you at this writer’s conference?” And she was! And she remembered me too! What a cool deal! It’s really good to see how far she’s come over the years (and her writing skills are just as sharp as ever). As you’ll see below with …

…. HER AWESOME BOOK

No good deed goes unpunished…

The tables are turned with a vengeance in this tour de force sequel to Melt. Now it’s Dorothy who is fragmented and lost, while Joey keeps the promise he made her to better himself – even though she’s gone.  Joey tells his story “now ”— nearly a year after the shocking conclusion of MELT.

Review: “There are so few books that make me feel something–not that I’m heartless or anything. I just tend to be affected by things in different ways than a lot of people. But besides all of that this book was, this book did, this book made me feel. It was like oh, hey heart. How are you? Are you well? You are? Okay…*kick, shred, punch.* Much better. This book toyed with my heart. It gave me everything I loved and appreciated from book one right back in book two.

“The sharp succinct prose read like sucker punches to the throat. There was nothing soft about this novel. It was all sharp turns, unexpected hits and rough love. Told from the perspectives of then and now, him and her, this book was a roller coaster ride.

“Dorothy is broken, pieces of who she used to be, and Joey is trying to deal with the damage he’s caused. All the while never letting go of the love that changed his life.”

AND SHE HAS BONUS CONTENT HERE TOO FOLKS

Now I’ll get out of the way and let Selene talk to you.

Selene: Don’t worry, I’m working on Book Three, the conclusion of the Rough Romance Trilogy! It’s called Unpunished, and it will be a climax like no other. You’ll never guess what’s coming…

Sneak Peek at the beginning of

UNPUNISHED

BOOK THREE
IN
THE ROUGH ROMANCE TRILOGY
Coming 2018!

Dorothy

I wake up screaming,

trapped inside myself.

Buried alive inside my own

flesh,

my body is my

coffin.

Help! Help! The terror burns through me like I’m tied to a fiery pyre.

Maybe this time I’ll

die.

Maybe this day,

I’ll die.

Please, let me die.

It feels like forever; I’m dying forever, until something

pops

inside

me- or maybe it bursts. That’s when I realize I’m not trapped, or dying. Not anymore. I remember that I can use my eyes, and I do. I snap them open and look around my room, filled with Pottery Barn furniture and frilly pillows that say my initials in fancy stitching and all my stuff I accumulated when I was someone else, someone who didn’t know what it was to be at the brink of death, sentenced by my family. And then

I

scream one more time, because I can. Finally, I can

scream

and be heard.

No-one comes to see what’s wrong anymore, they used to come but I

screamed

at them to leave. Hey, they created this monster. I clutch, claw at my covers I’m some sort of primitive beast. But maybe it’s my body’s reclamation—reclaiming the ability to

move

and and to

feel.

But feeling is a

double-edged

sword.

I’m alive,

some

version

of it anyway. I remember what it was like to be

happy

to trust

and I realize how naive I was.

Happiness is

ignorance, when you don’t

know

any

better

when you don’t

know how easily

betrayed

you are.

We’re all

expendable

don’t kid yourself.

So I guess I am trapped inside myself after all

trapped with the truth

about people

parents who’ll replace you with a newer model,

friends who’ll replace you in your boyfriend’s bed,

boyfriends who don’t care

who

they

screw.

It’s a wonderful life.

Not.

I let out another scream.

My voice is all I have left, and who cares if I wake up

Baby

Jane.

She’s bound to wake up

eventually,

just like

I did.

 

Joey

I wake up twisted in my sweaty sheets, pleas spewing from my mouth, panicked in the dark. Begging. Begging Doll to come back. My heart smashes against my chest cave, I’m panting like a dog with no water under the burning sun, clawing into my covers until I rip through them and grip mattress. Come back, come back, come back…

Then I realize, she did.

Every night it’s the same thing. It’s a nightmare I wake up from, it’s a nightmare I wake into.

I realize, she opened her eyes.

I just never bargained for what came next.

MORE BONUS MATERIAL BELOW FROM SELENE

In the meantime…

I’m excited to announce that my popular young adult novel is being re-released this spring, with bonus material inside: the award-winning screenplay I wrote!

Here are three possible cover designs for the book. My publisher would like to know which one you prefer — what are your suggestions?

(Drop her a line about your favorite covers right over here.)

EXCLUSIVE CONTENT FROM SELENE

… And now, here’s the opening of my screenplay, The Girl Next Door!

 

FADE IN:

EXT. SAM AND JESSE’S PLACE (CENTRAL PARK, NY) – DAY

A secluded clearing with three trees and a patch of grass in the middle. A star-shaped balloon floats through, disappears.

THE BALLOON

Drifts out of the park, across Central Park West, into

INT. APARTMENT BUILDING

The balloon floats through the foyer into an open elevator. The doors close.

INT. BUILDING HALLWAY

The elevator doors ding open.

The balloon bobs, tied to an umbrella stroller occupied by YOUNG SAM, 2. She wears overalls, sneakers. Wide-eyed, she clutches her side bars.

DAD, 33, wears a dress shirt, sleeves rolled. He directs Sam’s stroller, balances a star-decorated box on the handles.

MOM, 30, in sweats, cradles a box marked “photos,” hesitates in the elevator doorway, steps forward. They encounter

YOUNG JESSE, 2, in baseball cap, designer shirt, sneakers. He leans back in an upscale stroller, feet crossed.

MARIA, 45, wears maid uniform, hair in neat bun, holds the stroller handles.

Jesse and Sam lock eyes. Her hands release. She smiles. He sits up, uncrosses feet. They cross paths, he reaches for her.

MARIA

Come on, Jesse. Leave the pretty girl alone.

Sam giggles, stretches toward Jesse. Their hands inches apart. She tries to pass him the balloon string.

DAD

I don’t think Sam minds.

Mom, Dad and Maria laugh, move on. Jesse and Sam roll in different directions. They crane to see each other.

INT. SAM’S APARTMENT – BEDROOM – NIGHT

Room partly set up. The balloon hovers by the door. Dad opens the star-decorated box, paws stuffed animals, plucks out a unicorn with stars, tucks it in with fidgeting Sam.

DAD

It’ll be okay, Sam.

Dad sits beside Sam. She settles in. He smooths her covers. She grabs his hand.

SAM

Don’t go, Daddy.

DAD

I’m not leaving. Go to sleep, and maybe tomorrow we’ll find that boy Jesse for you to play with.

Dad pats at his heart, blows his “love” from his hand toward Sam. She “catches” it, pats at her heart.

EXT. SAM & JESSE’S PLACE – DAY (4 YRS LATER)

JESSE and SAM, now 6, play. He tackles her. Laughing, they fall.

From the side, Maria watches with a smile. Far overhead, a star balloon sticks in a tree.

EXT. BROADWAY (THEATRE DISTRICT, NY) – NIGHT (4 YRS LATER)

JESSE and SAM, now 10, and Sam’s Mom walk along edge of the crowded street. They carry Playbills.

A pedicab with a star balloon tied to its handle pulls beside them. The DRIVER rings his bell.

MOM

No, thank you.

The Driver shrugs, pedals off. The balloon bops.

EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING – DAY (2 YEARS LATER)

SAM, now 12, and Dad hug at the intersection.

JESSE, now 12, stares toward the park, fiddles with a mini baseball key ring on his backpack.

SAM

God, why’d they invent math? To torture me? I don’t think I’ll survive this test!

Dad laughs.

DAD

It’ll be okay, Sam.

Dad pats at his heart, blows his “love” from his hand toward Sam. She “catches” it, pats at her heart.

Dad lifts his briefcase in a wave to Jesse. Jesse smiles, waves. Dad descends into subway. A star balloon tied to the subway sign.

EXT. TWIN TOWERS – DAY

In flames.

EXT. CEMETERY – DAY

A casket lowers. MOURNERS watch. A BAGPIPER plays an inspirational song. Jesse grips Sam’s hand, Sam grips pregnant Mom’s hand. A star balloon drifts in the sky.

INT. HOSPITAL ROOM – DAY (5 YEARS LATER)

JESSE, now 17, in a hospital gown, sits up in bed with an untouched tray of food.

SAM, now 17, in sweatshirt and jeans, sits beside him, holds his hand. A deflated star balloon, tethered to the window, lies on the floor.

A DOCTOR, 60’s, examines a folder of notes, looks grim.

DOCTOR

(garbled)

Non-hodgkins…small noncleaved…non-Burkitt’s lymphoma…ten months.

The doctor shuts the folder.

DOCTOR (CONT’D)

I’m sorry.

The doctor’s words echo…

The doctor tucks the folder under his arm, walks away. The door swings closed. Jesse and Sam sit stunned.

Jesse drops Sam’s hand, hurls his food tray. Food splatters on the floor — and the balloon. The balloon jounces, stills.

IN BLACK

DAD (V.O.)

It’ll be okay, Sam.

###End ###

 

Okay, all you Scavenger Hunters, I’m going to make this super-easy.

MY LUCKY NUMBER IS 42

Now I hope it’s lucky for all of you, too. Don’t forget, get all the numbers from members of the GOLD TEAM, then add ’em up. The total is your secret code — enter that for a shot at the Grand Prize!

Skip over to the next blog for your next number! And good luck! Best wishes!

http://www.constancerobertsauthor.com/blog

And as an additional Thank You for stopping by, here’s a free book of mine.

Kathy, whose brain is over-saturated with Victorian novels, falls for Wyatt, the boy with all the verbs. It’s your classic case of a shy gal running screaming from love.

Thank you!