Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Let Me Introduce Megan Curd, Debut YA Author

Lock your doors and windows. Hide your pets. Megan Curd is on the loose. YA Author of a new series of YA Urban Fantasy, her debut book Bridger will burst through your eReaders any moment. Who, you ask, is Megan Curd? Let me tell you.
This is me in front of the Arc of Constantine in Rome, Italy. It was amazing to see all the history, and snowboarding was GREAT! J

I graduated from Northwestern College in St. Paul, Minnesota, with a degree in Intercultural Studies, but before that, I grew up in Dayton, Ohio. I have had the opportunity to travel to South America and Europe and get to hang out with some great young adults. I even got to snowboard in the Alps!

I love to write, but when I’m not doing that, I enjoy spending time with my family, snowboarding, and I’ll play an occasional video game.  Right now I reside in Eau Claire, Wisconsin with my husband, two dogs, and next month, our son! J I grew up loving to read, and the jump to writing was a natural one for me. I hope you enjoy the books I write!

BLURB:  Ashlyn McVean doesn’t believe in fairy tales. That is, until Ashlyn is thrown into the crosshairs of grudges her grandmother created long ago.

After finding out she is one of two people able to cross between faerie realms, Ashlyn is faced with trying to understand her abilities, along with navigating a new relationship with her boyfriend, Liam.

As if being on a centuries old hit list and dealing with crazed pixies isn’t enough, her new abilities mean trouble for Liam. Knowing her new life puts everyone she loves in danger, Ashlyn must decide what’s most important in her life between friends, family, love, and ultimately, realms.

Now, if you're intrigued, and your pets are still locked up. Visit Megan's website and you could win an iPod to celebrate the release of Bridger.


Silently, a group of young men came around the side of the house.  They eyed Memaw with what looked like caution.  Before I could call out to see what they needed, their faces took on a hungry look, all of them focused on Memaw.  It was unnerving.  Why were these men so interested in an old lady?
As the men neared her, chains appeared around their waists, ankles, and wrists that hadn’t been there a moment before.  Moving forward in seamless synchronization, they each pulled daggers from their hips and charged Memaw.  She was so engrossed in Chris’ theatrics that she hadn’t noticed the danger.
I screamed for Memaw to look out so loudly it hurt my ears.  Instead of running toward her, I hunkered down, unable to watch them murder her.  Would the men come for the rest of our family after they’d finished with Memaw?  Why was this happening?  Hadn’t we lost enough losing Dad only a few days ago?  Terror flooded through my veins, ice replacing the blood.  I was involuntarily rooted to the spot.
Although terrified to look, the thought of not knowing what was happening to Memaw was worse.  I barely opened my eyes to see the outcome of the men’s grisly attack.  My jaw dropped to the ground at the sight.
Where Memaw once sat, stood a gorgeous woman no older than twenty.  Her golden hair was wild and unkempt; her eyes were black as pitch like mine. Smiling at her assailants, she unsheathed a thin bow and pulled three arrows from her quiver, one for each man coming toward her.  In one fluid motion she released all of them at once, each one finding its mark.  The men fell.
To say I was shocked would be the understatement of the century.  The woman kneeled down and pulled her arrows from the bodies of the men while I crept toward her.  She wiped each one off quickly with the hem of her long, white skirt.  As she stood up, the rim of her skirt came into view.  It was covered in dried blood.  She had probably cleaned the arrows in the same fashion countless times before today.  I tore my eyes away from her skirt to look at her face.
The young woman was no longer there. Memaw stood hunkered in her place.  Still wearing the long, white skirt, Memaw dropped to her knees. She grabbed the man closest to her and pulled him to her chest.  She sobbed uncontrollably over his body.
After a few minutes, Memaw let the man fall to the ground, his shirt covered with her tears.
It was my dad.

If you've made it this far, you must be really interested in this book, so I'll tell you where you can find it. Look here. But be careful.

Lastly, if you'd like to know more about Megan, so you'll know when to hide the pets and lock the windows, check out her responses to these This or That? questions. What planet do you think she's from?

1-sunny or rainy days? Rainy days are perfect for curling up with a book or playing a video game, and they also = snow, and I'm a total snow bunny! :) sunny days, you'll find me floating down the local river with friends, though, so those are nice, too. I guess it depends on the season? Let's go with 50/50. Am I allowed to do that? :)

2-hamburger or cheeseburger? Cheeseburger - I'm in Wisconsin! :)

3-beach or lake? Lake. I want to learn to wakeboard and fishing is always fun. 

4-werewolves or vampires? I'm Team Emmitt for vampires, but I'm still gonna say I like werewolves more. Hello, Jacob. :)

5-socks or bare feet? Bare feet. I wear flip flops in the winter. :)

6-morning or night? Night. I am a total night owl!

7-dance or sing? Neither. I'll make people run if I do either publicly. :)

8-car or truck? Car. I'm a sucker for a fast car. :)

9-paper or computer? Computer. I'd probably not know what to do with myself if didn't have a computer. 

10-country or city? Country for short spurts, but I'm all about being closer to the bigger cities. I lived in Minneapolis, MN for 3 years and loved all the options for things to do...just not the traffic! :)

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Writing for the Younger End of Young Adult by Marva Dasef

There's a certain age which differs by individuals where the picture book no longer fascinates, but the dark young adult books seems to be for those kids way up in the stratosphere of high school.

This is the sweet spot for those kids which needs books more suitable to the younger than YA, but older than picture book. Many of the more famous of these types include the Harry Potter series and Rick Riordan's Percy Jackson books. The betweenagers or tweens can also find marvelous stories from the classics. What grade school girl didn't fall in love with Black Beauty or The Black Stallion, while boys were those noisy, smelly things. What boy couldn't relate to science fiction from Heinlein's juvenile series. "Have Rocket, Will Travel," "Star Ship Troopers," and the myriad of "Star Wars" books written after the venerable movie series appeared.

Authors are hard at work writing for the tween audience. I see many of my travels round the internet and, goodness knows, I've read a ton. My tastes run to fantasy. That's a genre that covers the entire universe and beyond. What can't be found in a fantasy tale?

I am long removed from young adults of today, so I send my thoughts back to the time when I became an earnest reader filling my library list with fantasy ranging from Narnia to Middle Earth.

So, this is where I find my comfort level as a writer. I'm thinking of a kid who reads, but can be either a devourer of books or a sometimes between video games reader. Although I usually have a female lead (to make up for the thousands of years when the women and girls stayed home while the men and boys went adventuring), but I don't get so mushy or girly that a fantasy-loving boy won't feel shortchanged.

Here are three of my books. Two fantasy and one adventure that I believe the tween audience will enjoy.

QUEST FOR THE SIMURGH: The village magician, Wafa, has gone missing. His star pupil Faiza thinks he has left a clue for her on a page of the Magicalis Bestialis. With the page open and marked with an X, she believes Wafa is telling them to seek out the Simurgh, the mythical birds who possess all the knowledge of the universe. She convinces her three classmates that they must seek the help of the Simurgh to find their teacher. Approx. 42K words.

She leads the boys on a difficult journey into the mountains in search of the elusive birds. A strange little man becomes their guide. However, they do not know he is a spirit leading them toward a battle between good and evil. Spirits, gods, and demons confront the four friends, who are being set up by the otherworldly forces for a much larger task than finding their teacher. The students were chosen to take sides in the battle which might spell the end of the world: a battle between the demons and the spirits.
Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B002LLNDVY/
Print: http://www.amazon.com/dp/0578004992

TALES OF ABU NUWAS: Abu Nuwas sits in the bazaar on his threadbare rug; a cup and sign proclaim him a teller of tales. For one small coin, he bids passers by to listen. A poor girl, Najda, sells spices from a tray. Would he, she asks, trade a tale for a packet of spice? Abu Nuwas agrees and begins the epic adventures of a girl and her genie. As did Scheherazade before him, Abu leaves Najda hanging in the middle of each yarn to keep her coming back. Between stories, he questions the girl about her life. He discovers that she has been promised in marriage to an old man whom she hates, but she must wed him to save her sick mother. The rich bridegroom will pay for the doctors the mother needs. Meanwhile, Najda sells spices in the market to earn enough money to keep her mother alive. While relating the fantastical accounts, the old man grows to admire the spice girl, and vows to find a way to help her. Listening to the stories of evil genies, demons, flying horses, dragons, viziers, princes, pirates, and nomadic raiders, young Najda finds her salvation with the help of Abu Nuwas, the TELLER OF TALES.
Book trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3vhzWTXsqtU
Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004HW6AWY/
Print: http://www.amazon.com/dp/0578003783/

EAGLE QUEST: Fiona, Hap, Billy, and Mitch make an odd set of friends, as different from the usual high school crowd as they are from each other. Mitch, the oldest of the four, is a half-breed Native American, adopted by white parents. Troubled that he doesn't know his tribe, he avidly studies Native American history and lore. Learning the nearby Bear Valley Wildlife Refuge is a bald eagle nesting site, he wants to add an eagle feather to his medicine bag and explore the refuge as a site for his Vision Quest, a Native American rite of passage. He and his three friends get far more than an overnight campout as they encounter a black bear, an old man living in the refuge, and a pair of eagle poachers. Bringing the poachers to justice, they test their courage and gain confidence in themselves and each other.
Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B003JBI2CA
Print: http://www.amazon.com/dp/1451592809

Marva Dasef is a writer living in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and a fat white cat.  Retired from thirty-five years in the software industry, she has now turned her energies to writing fiction and finds it a much more satisfying occupation.  Marva has published more than forty stories in a number of on-line and print magazines, with her stories included in several Best of anthologies. She has eight published books. A middle-grade contemporary fantasy series, Witches of Galdorheim, will begin in October with the publication of  "Bad Spelling" by MuseItUp Publishing.

She blogs at: http://mgddasef.blogspot.com/
Her website is: http://marvadasef.com/

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

'fess Up

Perhaps you know what it's like to feel guilty about something. Maybe you did something that hurt someone. You might have done it deliberately, or it might have been as a side effect of something else you did that had consequences.
If you hurt someone, you only feel guilty if you have a conscience. So feeling guilty is good.
The main character in my upcoming novel, Wounds, is carrying a heavy load of guilt. Craig's mother died before the beginning of the novel, a fact that the reader finds out only after a flashback in which she is still alive.
(How do you feel about flashbacks? Do you think middle graders can handle them without any problem?)
Getting back to the story, Craig's dad is too weak to handle living without his wife, so he starts drinking heavily and takes his anger out on Craig by physically beating on him.
Consequently, Craig takes his anger and grief out on things at school. He's in the eighth grade. At school, he tears up the art teacher's bulletin board and paints with a magic marker on the math teacher's car.
Criag has plenty to feel guilty about. We know from the flashback that Craig's a nice kid at heart. He's just carrying a load of grief and anger that's too heavy for him. And he's never asked for help. Maybe if he had, things would have been smoothed over before they got so bad. It takes a lot of guts to place your problems and inner-most thoughts into the hands of an adult. And when you've been beaten on, you lose a lot of your trust in people. That's what happened to Craig. He's mistrustful and arrogant to the adults around him.
(Do you think you would feel the same way if you were in Craig's position? Or do you think he was stupid for not getting help before his vandalism escalated?)
He next tries to cut down an old, valuable tree. He wounds not only the tree, but himself.
Oh, yeah--his worst guilt doesn't come out until near the end of the story.
Do you think Craig's conscience saves him? Does he 'fess up?
The book, Wounds, is coming from MuseItUp Publishing in September of this year.
The author: Barbara Bockman

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

How I wrote my first novel. . . Ride for Rights

Hi all! I'm new to the writing industry so you probably have not heard of me. My name is Tara Chevrestt and it took me 31 years, but I recently penned my very first novel, a historical young adult book, and it will be available to the masses in ebook format in February of 2012 thanks to MuseItUp Publishing.
My dogs and I

It's called Ride for Rights and it's about two chicks in 1916 who ride their Indian motorcycles across the United States, from New York to L.A. to be exact. You're probably think, "Aw, we do that all the time nowadays. . . " And you would be right, but in 1916, motorbikes were nothing like the Harley's you see on the streets today and the roads were nonexistent! There was NO highway system back then so this was no easy feet, especially for two young ladies, alone, wearing pants. Yes, I said "pants." Women wearing pants were frowned upon back then and the heroines in my story find that out the hard way. .

Here is the book blurb so you can get a better idea of what Ride for Rights is about:

"In the summer of 1916 women do not have the right to vote, let alone be motorcycle dispatch riders. Two sisters, Angeline and Adelaide Hanson are determined to prove to the world that not only are women capable of riding motorbikes, but they can ride motorbikes across the United States. Alone.

From a dance hall in Chicago to a jail cell in Dodge City, love and trouble both follow Angeline and Adelaide on the dirt roads across the United States. The sisters shout their triumph from Pike’s Peak only to end up lost in the Salt Lake desert.

Will they make it to their goal of Los Angeles or will too many mishaps prevent them from reaching their destination and thus, hinder their desire to prove that women can do it?

Laugh, cry, and smile with Angeline and Adelaide as they take their ride full of adventures, their ride for rights."

Okay... Enough about the book itself. Let me tell how I came across the idea for the book and how I wrote the book. 

The idea was born on a vacation to South Dakota in the fall of 2010. I wanted to visit a Victorian Mansion, but the hubby wanted to go to Sturgis and since we had already visited two wineries for my sake, I caved in and reluctantly agreed to do something he wanted to do for a change. And thus, we went to the Sturgis Motorcycle Museum where I was drawn to the women's section. There, I discovered a monument of sorts to two very amazing women. Augusta and Adeline Van Buren. (Please visit their website sometime: http://www.vanburensisters.com/).

The Van Buren Sisters
Augusta and Adeline are the REAL women who in 1916, rode their Indian motorbikes across the United States. Their remarkable feat, from riding on dirt roads to summiting Pike's Peak, is what gave me the idea for Ride for Rights. I stood there reading about them and their amazing accomplishments and their journey and I said, "someone needs to write a novel about these women" and I did!

Why? Cause biographies are boring. Historical novels are not. However, my book is fiction. Never forget that. It is loosely based on these women. I highly encourage you to read about the real women as well.

I took what little I could find about them and I created two fictional characters, Angeline and Adelaide, and I asked myself questions. The WHO was already answered, but WHY are they doing this? To obtain the right to vote for women and prove that women can be motorcycle dispatch riders.

 WHAT obstacles will they be facing in 1916? I came up with their "mishaps" by browsing history. I even looked up old articles in the New York Times Online to see what was going on back in 1916.

WHEN are they doing this? I tried to stay true to the real women's timeline though I took some liberties. I had the sisters summit Pike's Peak with the first ever Hill Climb rather than on their own. Just plain fun!
Pikes Peak

HOW are they doing it? They've got trust funds, of course. :)

And the most interesting question. . . WHERE do they go? They go to Detroit, Chicago, Peoria, St. Louis, Kansas City, Dodge City, Colorado Springs, Rawlings, Salt Lake City, Nevada, San Francisco, and finally, L.A. And here's the secret to how I chose most of those places: I simply placed a map of the United States on my kitchen counter, looked at it, and imagined no roads. And you know what I did? I would randomly place a finger on it between NY and LA to see where the ladies would go next. If the location was a realistic next stop such as Peoria to St. Louis, I would tell myself, "okay, they're going to St. Louis. Use your imagination now." If it was ridiculous, such as Peoria to Minneapolis (wrong direction!), I would choose again.

In conclusion, I used a map, old newspaper articles, lots of online research, and a ton of imagination to write Ride for Rights. 

I also have an  ebook of dog stories available. You can find it on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, ibookstore, and Sony Reader store. It's called Dog Tails: Three Humorous Short Stories for Dog Lovers. In late July/early August, I will also have an ebook memoir available from Untreed Reads. Deaf Isn't Dumb: A Memoir. But Ride was my very first work.

Good luck to all of you in your writing endeavors. My advice to you: Write about something you love, write your fantasies, and write in whatever style or manner that you feel comfortable with. What works for some may not work for all.

Ride Safely!

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

An Interview with AM Roelke's Characters From 'Space Station Murders'

I recently met with A.M. Roelke and a couple of real characters from her book The Space Station Murders, now available at MuseItUpPublishing.com.

Reb: Thank you, Herb Molloy and Zack Ives for coming today.
Herb: A couple of ‘real characters’ huh?
Reb: Herb, would you like to introduce yourself?
Herb: Yeah, why not. Herb Molloy. And that’s private.
Reb: Zack?
Zack: Zack Ives. Not sure exactly how old I am. They didn’t keep such good records on my home planet, and sometimes it was hard to tell one year from the next. I grew up, what can I say? I’m definitely an adult. *laughs*
Reb: Where are each of you from (born)?
Herb: Earth. *mumbles under his breath* Do I not look human?
Zack: Tribulation. It’s a mining planet.
Reb: What about your family: Parents? Children?
Herb: I’m sorry, but why is that important? 
Zack: My mom’s name was Adelaide Stevenson. She married my dad, Jonathan Ives. 
Reb: Siblings?
Herb: I refuse to answer questions like this. This is not therapy, and I’m not talking about the past.
Zack: *shakes his head and grins at Herb* My older brothers, Laurie and Aaron. They’re dead.
Reb: Pets?
Herb: Hmph.
Zack: No. Back when we were kids, my brothers and I used to catch spiders in the mine and name them. I hadn’t thought about that in awhile….
Reb: Do you have any Best Friends?
Herb: My best friend died, okay? Why do you think I’m so messed up?
Zack:  Heh. Not right now. Nobody owes me any favors or anything, either, at least not anybody who could help me right now. This one guy on the station seems to be looking after me a bit more than he has to. Herb something. I think maybe he’s my friend, not sure why.
Reb: Do you have a job?
Herb: This is as bad as therapy. I’m leaving. *walks away*
Zack: No. Right now I’m homeless and jobless. I was heading elsewhere, just a stopover here, but I got robbed. I can work real hard, though. Maybe I’ll manage to get a job, and earn enough for a ticket off. Maybe I’ll find work somewhere on a planet. I can drive a cab, you know. 
Herb *wanders back*  “You’re still here?”
Reb: What are your hopes/plans for the future?
Herb: Survive. How’s that one? And I’d like to get off the booze. Maybe someday I’ll even be able to get back on the police force.
Zack: Oh, I’d like to get a nice job, something that would last awhile. Maybe someday I’ll meet a nice girl and settle down, raise a family somewhere where my kids could go to school. I wouldn’t want them to grow up feeling stupid, or having to go into any mines.
Reb: What would you change about your life?
Herb: What wouldn’t I?
Zack: I’d change that my family was dead.  I’d have found some way to get us all off that rock alive, if I could.
Reb: What do you like best about your life? Worst?
Herb: I’m…I guess that I haven’t given up yet. Somehow or other. Worst is definitely Jimmy dying in a holdup. A holdup!
Zack: Well, not much is right about my life right now. I’m stuck here, I got robbed, kinda roughed up from a couple of fights, and I’m out of work with nowhere to go. But I like it that I’m still strong. I’ve got a few rounds left in me. *laughs*
Oh, and I like the library, where you can read books—for free! (Did you know that? The books are just free!) And I like some of the people I’ve met, real generous folks, even though we’re all in the same boat, homeless, without much to spare. Herb especially—that guy is complicated and prickly, but he’s awful generous to be the grouch he pretends to be.
Reb: Have you ever been in trouble with the law? If so, why?
Herb: Uh, not really. I’ve spent more time working for the law, if you know what I mean.  Well, once, when I was a kid. But nothing too bad.  *grins*
Zack: Heh. No, I’ve steered pretty clear of the law. I mean, the real law. I guess I broke some laws by learning to read, but I don’t count laws like that. Do you?
Reb: What is your favorite hobby?
Herb: Reading. Does that count? I read a lot. I like mysteries.
Zack: Singing! I also like to juggle. I’m pretty good at it.  Singing’s more fun, though, because you can get out what you’re feeling inside. Don’t even have to be singing about what you’re feeling, you just sort of put whatever you’re feeling into whatever you’re singing, and it makes you feel better.
Reb: If you could live anywhere, where would it be? Why?
Herb: *mumbles under breath again, can’t understand* ……
Zack: I don’t know. I’m still looking for a home. Maybe a nice green planet, somewhere with lots of trees, or grass, or somethin’ nice to look at, where the air smells clean, and there’s room enough. Guess that’s a pipe dream.
Reb: How would you describe yourself? (girly girl, athlete, loner, gamer, nerd, reader, etc)
Herb: Yeah, girly. I’m a big ol’ ex-cop living on the street, and I’m girly. Are we done yet?
Zack: I guess the guy who wouldn’t give up. I’ve survived this long, and it’s going to take a hell of a lot to beat me.
Reb: Can you drive a car? Had any accidents or tickets?
Herb: Not in space. No cars here.
Zack: I’m a cab driver! At least, that was one of my jobs planet-side. And nope, I’m proud to say I was Papa Rodney’s best driver, in all six months of my employment, before he had to lay me off. He told me to my face, I was the best driver he’d had in years. I’m proud of that. I never even dinged a fender!
Reb: What is your favorite kind of vehicle? Why?
Herb: A spaceship. Just a light, little runabout with a loud engine. Haven’t had one of those in awhile.  I bought one after I got out of the army, but had to sell it a little while later.
Zack: Cabs, because I can drive ‘em, and it’s good money.
Reb: Are you an omnivore or vegetarian? Why?
Herb: I eat whatever.
Zack: Huh? I don’t know what those words mean, sorry. I’m Jewish, if that helps, but I don’t really practice.
Reb: Do you attend church, synagogue, mosque, wherever regularly? Why or why not?
Herb: Lapsed Catholic. No.
Zack: Nope. I don’t go to Synagogue, either. Never been very religious. It’s my heritage, though, and maybe I’ll learn more about it someday when I’ve got the time to spare from just surviving.
Reb: Do you believe in an afterlife? Reincarnation?
Herb: I guess I still believe in most of the things I believed in when I was a kid. I don’t know if it’s true, but I think I still believe it. You know how you can believe in something without even wanting to? Yeah.
Zack: I don’t know. Haven’t really thought about it much. I don’t think it all just ends after we die, though. I mean, I like to think of my folks being somewhere nice, where they don’t have to hurt anymore. I like to think somebody cares, and would look after them, the way nobody did while they were alive. Wouldn’t it be nice to think there’s some, you know, justice? Somebody who looks after the people nobody cared about, who’d make things up to them after they died, if nobody gave ‘em a fair shake while they were alive? I guess I’ll find out someday.
Reb: Do you believe in evil? Demons?
Herb: Evil? Oh yeah. I’ve seen plenty of evil in my time.
Zack:  Yeah. Evil. There’s a lot of that around. You don’t have to convince me.
Reb: Do you believe in angels?
Herb: Yeah. Kind of. One time in the war… Well, like I said, this isn’t therapy. Just…yeah.
Zack: I’m alive, ain’t I? Somebody must’ve been looking out for me….
Reb: Tell us about your role in the story.
Herb: What story?
Zack: I couldn’t tell you. I’m just sort of passing through, you know? Some nice people here, but I doubt I’ll stay longer than I have to. No work, you know?
Reb: What is the title of the book you are in? Who wrote it?
Herb: Oh, that thing. The Space Station Murders.  Some lady.  I forget.
Zack: Uh. The Space Station Murders. Yeah, Herb said something about murders. Said we’ve got to be careful because there’s someone stalking around, killing homeless people. That takes some kind of coward, if you ask me.  I think we should try to catch him. 
I forget who wrote it, sorry. You could ask Herb. He’s smart, he’d probably remember.
Reb: What do you think of the other characters in the story with you?
Herb: Oh, you mean Zack. I call him the kid. He’s got a lot to learn, but I kind of wish he wouldn’t have to learn it. He’s still got his hope, you know? I want things to work out for him, before he loses that.
Zack: Oh, well, there’s some jerks, there’s some real nice people. Herb’s a great guy, even if he does act a little bossy. He calls me “kid” all the time, but he doesn’t mean anything by it. 
Reb: What problem are you trying to solve?
Herb: My own ‘issues.’ I’d like to get off the booze. It’s not good for me, Jimmy wouldn’t like the way I’ve gone downhill. And I don’t like people pitying me. Maybe I can be a cop again someday. It’s the only thing I’m really good at. Other than that, I’d like to look after the other homeless people under the artificial bridge. They’ve got so little, and there’s that killer on the loose. Somebody ought to do something about that....
Zack: Trying to stay alive, just like everybody else. I’d like to get a decent job. And solve those murders!  Somebody needs to.
Reb: Tell us about the ‘bad guy’ or situation that causes you a problem.
Herb: Um, the punk who gunned down Jimmy. That’s about it. Oh yeah, and a murderer on the loose right now.
Zack: I was mugged, somebody took my money. So now I’m stuck here until I earn enough for a ticket off the station.
Reb: Anything else you want to tell us?
Herb: Nope.
Zack: *grins* Keep hanging on. Don’t give up, the last chip count ain’t in yet.
Reb: Thank you gentlemen *looks pointedly at Herb*, for your time and patience. I enjoyed speaking with you both. Good luck with whatever you pursue.

AM's books is available wherever fine eBooks are sold.