Thank you, Mrs. Giron, for taking the time to write a story for me. I enjoyed it very much. Hopefully we can see you again sometime soon.

     Amelia sat on her bed reading a book about her favorite subject: horses.  Suddenly she heard a strange noise coming from outside her bedroom window. She looked out and there in the front yard was the most beautiful horse she had ever seen. It was all white; so white it looked like it was actually glowing! The horse looked right up at her through the window and neighed loudly as if calling to her. Amelia felt a thrill go up her spine.

      She raced downstairs and out the front door, letting it slam open. The horse was standing right there and it almost looked like he was smiling at her!  He tossed his head a few times and Amelia understood that he wanted her to climb into the saddle.  He was just the perfect size to mount without any help or the need for a stepstool.  She climbed into the saddle and with a loud whinny suddenly a pair of gorgeous white angel wings sprouted out of him.  The horse leaped into the air and beat his great wings. They flew up, up, up high above the clouds which looked like large wads of cotton candy below her. Amelia giggled and laughed aloud with total joy and with each laugh her horse grew larger and larger.  After a short ride he began to slowly descend through the clouds, circling down gently so Amelia would not get motion sickness until they landed in a beautiful meadow.  He neighed loudly and suddenly there came the sound of distant thunder; only it wasn’t thunder…it was the sound of approaching horse hooves! Amelia looked over to the nearby hill where suddenly over the rise came a small herd of horses in every color and size you could think of. They galloped near and began circling about her until they all surrounded her. Then…as if on command, they all bowed!! They went down on one knee and actually bowed their proud necks!

     Amelia could not believe her eyes and wondered inside why they were bowing to her.

     “You are their Queen!” spoke the horse upon which she sat, startling her exceedingly. Amelia practically fell out of the saddle she was so surprised.

     “You talk?! She exclaimed.

     “Of course, your highness!” responded the horse under her.

            “Cool!” clapped Amelia. “What’s your name?
            “Randolph, your highness!” replied her horse. “What would you like to do today?” Amelia thought about it for a minute then said, “Can we have a picnic with my best friend, Suzanne?”

            “I anticipated just such a request and sent Hercules to fetch her for you.”

            A neigh from high above their heads sounded and Amelia looked up to see a beautiful black horse with black wings circling down with her best friend, Suzanne, on its back. Amelia bounced up and down in excitement, waving her arms in excitement.

            “Over here! Over here!” she yelled. Hercules landed upon the meadow and knelt down so Suzanne could easily dismount. Randolph did the same and the two girls ran for each other, grabbed each other’s hands, and jumped up and down with glee.

            “Behold my ladies,” said her horse Randolph. The girls turned around and there on the grass was a picnic blanket and basket full of their favorite goodies.

            The girls sat down and began pulling all the wonderful food out of the basket.  Amelia’s face fell with dismay; all the food was stuff she couldn’t eat because of her allergies.

            “Randolph, I can’t eat any of this,” she said; her disappointment clear.

            “Today is different, milady,” replied her horse. “Today you have no food allergies; you may eat everything to your heart’s delight and suffer no ill effects.”

            Amelia squealed with delight and dug into the brownies first, then the sandwiches, punch and fresh fruit. When they were done and their tummies pleasantly full they lay back on the grass and watched the clouds perform a show for them.  They formed themselves into dancing bears and knights on horseback.  Soon the clouds performed an entire play just for them. When it was over the girls clapped their hands in appreciation and then it was time for a ride!

            Amelia and Suzanne each jumped into the saddle of their own horse and they cantered over the beautiful green grass filled with flowers for the rest of that day, giggling and even holding hands at times.  The other horses followed along and joined them, weaving in and out and almost performing a dance as they ran alongside. When the sun began to set, it was time for them to say their goodbyes.

            “See you tomorrow in the real world, Amelia!” her friend Suzanne said, hugging her goodbye.

            “Okay! See you soon!” replied Amelia. They waved goodbye and then Randolph and Hercules took off into the sky and brought each girl safely home before bedtime. That night Amelia drifted off to sleep with a happy smile upon her face, thinking of all the wonderful things she had done that day.

I just wish I had not been sweating for 10 hours straight before I did. I looked like a wreck and she looked…well, she looked gorgeous. I think she is one of the most naturally beautiful women I have ever seen. I got to spend just a couple of minutes with her before she went onstage to perform at the end of a very long, hot day. Just enough time to show her the book her song inspired, let her know about our mutual acquaintenace, John Styll (current President of The Gospel Music Association and my former boss at CCM) and the fact that we both had a daughter with the same name. Mine spelled Karina; hers spelled Corrina.

Showing her the book and telling her that it had been her song that inspired it jogged her memory but she admitted that she had not read it yet. I left right after getting the photo. It was 7:30 by that time and all I wanted was to get into a hot shower and clean off.  I found out later that night that had I or any of the other authors stayed longer we would have gotten the opportunity to go aboard her bus for 45 minutes and really get to talk with her and have her sign things for us but it was a last moment decision on her part and most of us had already left having been there all day.

As it would turn out, I found out that since we were not able to do that, that she asked for all of our emails (and also got my home address). I wonder what will come in the mail….?

So my life has come full circle at last, here below is the picture of Amy and I (she’s the tall gorgeous one on the left).

Amy Grant and me

I got out my Bible, turned to Proverbs and customized it for my beloved Father in law.  We printed it out, rushed to Pottery Barn and framed it, arriving in time.  I then stood before him and read it aloud and with tears in his eyes he responded that he would treasure it always.  The next time I read it aloud was 3 months later at his funeral.  Here below is my version of a Father of Noble Character; feel free to copy it and customize it for your dad; he will treasure it always.

A father of noble character who can find?  He is worth far more than gold.
His wife and children have security, shelter and protection and lack nothing of value.
He teaches them right from wrong, the value of sacrifice and a good work ethic and is a role model for them
all the days of their lives.
He spares not the paddle (which broketh upon Greg’s backside) and
extends a hand of mercy to those who are penitent for bad behavior.
He is like a strong fortress, and a shield against the worries and trials of everyday life
so his wife and children can live happy, carefree lives.
He gets up while it is still dark; drives to Huntington Beach to teach the children of others
to provide food for his family and is welcomed by his children and spouse at the end of a long day.
He considered a safer home in Fountain Valley and bought it; and out of his earnings, he planted tomatoes, avocados, and chili peppers and maketh play areas for his children to delight in and fixes all their broken toys.
He sets about his work vigorously at the Barbershop; and cuts his son’s hair into funny bowl shapes.
He sees that his career as a teacher is profitable, but still switches off all the light fixtures at the end of the day.
In his left hand he holds the rake and the hoe and in the other he grasps
the spatula to flip over his children’s favorite buttermilk pancakes.
He opens his home to the foreign exchange students and provides research assistance to apologetic ministries.
When it snows, he takes his wife and kids to the mountains for sledding and
snowball fights and bandages up their bumps and bruises with bandaids.
He causes his children to sit upon his lap and give him numerous besos upon his cheeks.
His children have all grown up to become responsible parents with children of
their own and who pass on the legacy of love and faith he has left to them.
He speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction has ever been on his tongue.
He presides over the affairs of his household and has never eaten the bread of idleness.
His children arise and call him blessed; his wife also, and she praises him:
“Many husbands and fathers have done noble things, but you surpass them all.”
Wealth is deceptive, and youth is fleeting; but a father who fears the LORD is priceless.
Give him the reward he has earned, and let his works bring him praise at heaven’s gates.

Enjoy the photos!

                In the past year since my own self-published book, The Victor, was released, I have met many authors who have gone the self-publishing route and have learned many important things that they should have given thought to but didn’t even know to ask and are now kind of “stuck” after having spent A LOT of money. There are good companies to self-publish with and some horrible ones, so “buyer beware”!  There are quite a few important things you need to ask and consider before deciding on which company to go with to publish your book. Of course, it goes without being said but should be stressed again: READ YOUR TERMS AND CONDITIONS WORD FOR WORD and with your spouse or trusted friend before signing anything. Here are some other questions to ask:

1)      Who owns the rights to the final edited AND unedited manuscript versions of your book? Who owns the cover art? Who owns the copyright? You or the company that published you? Does it cost extra? Does it expire? Who owns the copyright to your book’s characters? If you cancel your agreement and you don’t own the cover image of your book, you will have to remove it from every place it has been posted.

2)      Price Control of Your finished product. Who controls the pricing of your book? Are you unknowingly granting exclusivity on price? See if you can find out ahead of time what they would price your book at to sell before you sign anything. If a book is priced too high it isn’t going to sell and if your cost isn’t much lower than the retail price you don’t have much discount room even if you sell it yourself. Who controls the price – you or the publisher?

3)      Can the company edit your book without your permission? Again, read your terms and conditions carefully. If you aren’t sure, then take it to an attorney and have him/her go over it; it will be worth every penny!

4)      Does the company charge for editing? If so, how much per hour? Get all the details ahead of time. Someone I know paid $900 to have her book edited. The going rate is anywhere between $25 an hour to $45 an hour, or you can negotiate a flat rate. Be sure to proofread the entire manuscript BEFORE it goes to the printer, too. It is your responsibility.

5)      Is the book discounted to bookstores? Many bookstores will refuse to carry a book they can’t get at a significant discount (40%).

6)      Is the book returnable? This one is VERY important. Bookstores will not carry books that are not returnable. Sometimes the publisher will make the books returnable if you pay them a small ransom (several hundred dollars). If the book is returned, can Amazon then turn around and make money off the resale without paying you the author? You best be sure.

7)      Is your book available through a major distribution channel?  Like Ingram/Spring Arbor? Will it be available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, etc.? Does that service cost extra?

8)      Marketing Services: What does the publisher charge for its marketing services and what types of services are offered? Ad campaigns, mass mailings, etc., are a big waste of money, so don’t go there. Does the publisher offer book trailers? If so, how much does a trailer cost and who owns the rights to it … you or the company? Same thing for a building you a website. Get a few examples of trailers/websites the publisher has produced before signing on the dotted line.

9)      Kindle: Is there a charge to have the book made available on Kindle format? If so, how much $$$?

10)   Review Copies: Will your publisher send out free review copies or do you have to do it yourself or pay for them?

11) How will the books be sold and distributed?

Publishing your book is only 1/3 the battle. The next thing you have to think about is how you are going to market your book. How are you going to get the word out? Did you know that 5,000+ new books are released every month? How are you going to let the reading public know about yours?

Too many authors think that if they can only get their book into print that a miracle will occur and it will fly off the shelves. Not so. Even if you publish traditionally you still have to do a lot of the networking and marketing yourself or you will only end up selling perhaps 100-200 books to family and friends. Chances are you won’t come close to breaking even on the money you have spent.

You need to find a good book marketing company – one that doesn’t promise the world and make grandiose claims. Again: BUYER BEWARE. Word of mouth is still the best way to sell books but how do you create “word of mouth?” Answer: Social media! Facebook, MySpace, Shelfari, Goodreads, Blog reviews.  It takes A LOT of work. My book has been out for little over a year and I still have new opportunities coming my way because I am constantly working at it; networking on social media has become my second job.  It didn’t hurt either that I also found a great book promo company (www.bookcandystudios.com) that helped me to build a large audience base on the social media sites. The rest was up to me and I can honestly tell you that I have 700 more “friends” than I did a year ago;  at least 100 of which I am VERY good friends  with and who have been telling their friends about MY book, The Victor. Word of mouth at its’ best!

It just so happens she is also an actress and just the right age. Now if only the screenwriter (Jason – are you reading this???), movie producers (hello out there John Ware) and directors would get their act together, option the book and start pre-production!!!

Kaily Teeter

I have up to 50 books that will go towards this effort.

email: thevictorbook@sbcglobal.net

             John sat upon the park bench staring at nothing in particular. His heart was in shreds and filled with a darkness he could not escape. He was oblivious to the beauty around him; the soft breeze that caressed his face, the warm sunshine, the butterflies that flitted here and there amongst the flowers and the sound of birdsong. He was trapped in a vise of despair and silent desperation that closed ever tighter about him like a boa constrictor; crushing the life from him.

            The steady sound of weeping slowly brought him to the surface for a moment and he looked in the direction of the sandlot where a little boy was cowering before two larger boys who were obviously bullies. They kicked him, slapped him and shouted vile things at him.  John’s heart filled with rage at the plight of the little boy and before he knew it he was striding towards the bullies who were preparing to do even worse damage from the look of their curled fists.

            John caught the first bully’s arm as he swung back to land a crushing blow; his rage at the mistreatment of the smaller boy filling him with a righteous anger. He threw the bully down onto the sand and then turned to deal with the next one. What he saw made him recoil in horror. It was not a boy but a monster disguised as a boy. Its yellow eyes were filled with hatred for both him and the small boy crouching before him in a fetal position, shielding his head from the oncoming blow. John quickly recovered.  He would not let this thing hurt the young boy; not anymore!  He flung himself upon it and grappled it onto the ground. It shrieked with an ear-splitting scream but despite its’ size it was no match for John’s fury and after a few minutes struggle he quickly subdued it.  It ran off along with other one disappearing from sight.

          Breathing hard and shaking with the adrenaline coursing through his veins John turned his attention to the small boy.  He put a gentle hand upon the lad’s shoulder who looked up at him gratefully with a tear-streaked face. John stepped back a few paces in bewildered shock and fear. The boy looked strangely familiar and it frightened him. The boy reached up both arms to him; wanting to be picked up and comforted after his fright.  Despite his unwillingness to do so, John could not find it in his heart to refuse. He picked up the lad in his arms and held him close to his breast.  Together they wept; mourning the loss of innocence and the years of childhood stolen and stained by evil.  John wept great heaving sobs and the harder he cried, the softer the boy cried then suddenly the boy was gone and it was John who was the little boy and he was being held in the arms of a man that blazed with a light so great he couldn’t open his eyes. His tears became a cleansing flood that washed away the grime and guilt of years past; his shoulders shaking.  All the while, the man who held him whispered words of indescribable love and forgiveness into his ear.  He felt his spirit healed, his wounds soothed. John’s sobs gradually abated and when he finally looked up he was staring into the eyes of eternity and in them he found complete acceptance and forgiveness.

          “Who are you?” he asked in a coarse whisper although he already knew the answer.

          “I am the One who loves you,” came the soft reply. “and I am waiting for you to welcome me into your heart so I can restore the years that have been stolen from you.  If you will trust Me and give all of yourself to Me; the years before you will be truly blessed.”

          John stared at him; he was at a crossroads. Which way would he choose? The way of life and restoration or the path of destruction. He straightened up and placed his shaking hand into that of the Savior’s and was greeted with a brilliant smile that filled his broken heart with joy.

       The weather outside was dark and stormy; she could hear the distant rumble of thunder approaching. Suddenly she jumped out of her seat with a scream as a bolt of lightning hit right outside her room. It sounded like a bomb going off. The lights went out and all went dark. Then suddenly the light of a fire kindled before her very eyes.

       Hannah blinked a few times and looked up to see a young woman staring right back at her with the same look of shock and surprise as she.

          “Who are you?!” demanded the girl, raising her hands in a threatening way. In her upraised open palms were twin balls of fire that rotated in a menacing way.  Instantly Hannah realized where she was.

          “Enna!” she shrieked; launching herself forward to embrace her with wild abandon. The young woman was so startled that the fire in her hands was immediately extinguished.  Instead she found herself standing awkwardly as Hannah continued hugging. After a moment Hannah stepped back, feeling a bit sheepish.

          “Who are you?” demanded Enna, straightening her forest gown. Hannah stifled a giggle. She found it rather amusing that a fictional character was demanding an explanation from her; a real person!

          “My name is Hannah Nicole,” she replied.

          “How do you know my name?” Enna continued, her brow furrowed together in suspicion. “Did Finn send you?”

          “Nooooooo,” replied Hannah looking about to indicate her bedroom, computer, bed, printer, etc., only to freeze when she realized she was no longer in her room but in a forest. No wonder she was freezing!

          Enna looked her up and down and the suspicious look was replaced with a look of compassion as Hannah wrapped her arms about herself, teeth starting to chatter. She removed her heavy cloak and wrapped it about Hannah and took her by the arm.

          “Come with me,” she ordered. Hannah nodded obediently; she was in Bayern; and though she was familiar with the realm because of reading the books; being transported into the mythical forest in the dead of night was rather unnerving; no matter how much she had always wanted to be there.

          They reached the cottage a short time later and Enna pushed her inside. It was pitch black inside but in a moment Enna had a bright fire crackling in the hearth using her powers. Hannah looked about her in barely contained glee. She was inside one of her favorite stories with one of her favorite characters! She looked up and found Enna glaring at her in a suspicious way which took her aback. She didn’t expect her favorite heroine to be so hostile.

          “Are you a People, Animal or Nature Speaker?” Enna demanded. Hannah was at a loss. She looked around the rather shabby cottage and noticed some things.

          “I’m a beauty-maker!” she said with a big grin. Before Enna could protest, Hannah began gathering up things she found around the cottage and to arrange them in a pleasing way. Enna watched in suspicious yet fascinated silence as Hannah busied herself transforming her hovel into something very homey and lovely.

          Tears filled Enna’s eyes. This girl was a total stranger to whom she had been particularly unkind and here she had done this selfless act of beautifying her homely cottage with just what she found. She covered her face with her hands to hide the tears that began to slide down her cheeks. Her shoulders began to heave. No one had been this nice to her in a very long time.

          Compassion filled Hannah’s heart and she went forward and embraced Enna to comfort her. “I’m sorry about what happened to Sileph,” she said. That opened the floodgates. Enna wept terrible deep heaving sobs and all Hannah could do was to pat her back and making soothing sounds. After ten minutes of heavy-duty sobbing Enna looked around, wiping her nose with the back of her sleeve.

          “Thank you!” she said, meaning every word. She looked at Hannah’s strange clothes (she was wearing blue jeans and a cute purple paisley smock top) with great curiosity. “These are strange garments,” she observed, rubbing the rayon/cotton blend in her hands. “But these!” she said indicating the blue jeans. “Most unladylike!”

          Hannah looked down at her jeans with the carefully created bare patches in the knees. It would do no good to explain and Senna wouldn’t understand anyway.

          “Ummmmm sorry.” She said. An awkward silence ensued then a sudden thought froze Hannah’s heart. She was inside her favorite book but how was she going to get back home? The thought of living in Bayern had always appealed to her but now that she was really here she felt totally out of place. Then another feeling made her begin to panic. “I need to use the ladies room.” She said to Senna; hoping she would take the hint and direct her to the nearest bathroom. Senna stared at her for a moment with a perplexed look on her face.

          She threw out her arms to indicate the small hovel around them. “This is a lady’s room.” She explained slowly as if Hannah were mentally retarded. Hannah shook her head.

          “No, you don’t understand…uhh, I need to uh…well you know…relieve myself?”.

          Enlightenment came over Senna’s face and she nodded. She turned about, bent over and picked up what looked to be a pail. She held it out to Hannah with a grim smile. “You’ll need to do this behind the cottage,” she instructed.

          Hannah was aghast. She had to do it in a pail? In a dark and freezing cold forest?! What was she supposed to do with it afterwards?

          Senna picked up a slender twig and spoke a word over it so it would glow. “You may use this to light your way,” she said, handing it to Hannah, then gently pushed her towards the door. The cottage door opened as if by magic all by itself and the next thing Hannah knew, she was standing in her own bathroom holding a bucket and a twig that still glowed. She dropped both with a shriek which brought her mother running up the stairs.

          “Are you okay?” her mom asked, not even noticing the foreign pail or the now smoldering twig. Hannah looked up and nodded, relieved to be back in her own world where there was real bathrooms with indoor plumbing.

          “I saw a spider.” She fibbed. Her mom nodded, picked up the pail as if it had belonged in the family for years and without a second glance and went back to her chores.

          Hannah slowly turned about her room to reassure herself that she was once again in the “real” world but for a split second, she thought she caught of glimpse of Senna’s wistful and lonely face staring back at her in her bedroom mirror…

THE END