Nov 16 2013

Letting Shea Fly – The WishKeeper Free Download

Hello Tumblerians!

It’s been far too long since I’ve shouted at you. I have been busy finalizing my Kickstarter campaign‘s pledge level rewards and shipping all of the various goodies to my backers. To those of you who supported the campaign, you’re amazing and I love you (on a completely platonic level, of course).

Here is the cool news: between December 2nd through the 5th, The WishKeeper will be available FOR FREE on Amazon Kindle! Tell your friends, your parents, your doggies and kitties, and remind your WishKeeper! My goal is to surpass the 7,000 downloads mark over the span of four days.

Now, the even cooler news: if you download the eBook and tell me here on Tumblr or on The WishKeeper Facebook page, I will ASSIGN A WISHKEEPER JUST FOR YOU. This fairy will be named and come with a set of fairy specs (height, wing span, usual attire, body art, etc). The only way this will work though is if you post to the Facebook page a screen capture of your download and mention it here on Tumblr! I won’t know if you downloaded the eBook if you don’t post about it!

I could be digging myself a huge Wishing hole here; in other words, if 7,000 people actually tell me about downloading the eBook and want a WishKeeper fairy of their own…I can spit my social life goodbye for a while…but it’s worth it!

ALSO even cooler cooler news: BOOK CLUBS! If you are a part of a book club, please message me on Facebook or get in touch with me here on Tumblr. I will email you a copy of either the Nook version of The WishKeeper or the Kindle version for FREE. This is only if you’re a part of a BOOK CLUB and if everyone in the club agrees to post their reviews and comments on Amazon.  Book Clubs are awesome, even if it’s just to get together and drink caffeinated beverages and consume an incredible amount of sweets (while talking about books, of course).

So there ya go! I’m digging in my heels and expecting a big December. You all can be a part of the next big thing, so let’s do this.

Yours truly and inevitably.

(I went a little overboard with the photo linking, but I enjoyed myself immensely.)


Oct 18 2013

WishKeeper Has Launched!

The WishKeeper Book CoverThe book has launched! The Kickstarter campaign was a resounding success – we raised 200% of our goal and pledge level rewards are being shipped as we speak! We also launched the Kindle version of the book! It is available on Amazon here.

Join in on the fun! A lot of updates are made (daily) on the book’s Facebook page, so “Like” the page and stay up to date on book promotions, giveaways and more.

Happy Wishing!

Click here to READ MORE


Jul 15 2013

Meet Avery – Book Tease

Shea Evenstar is, of course, my favorite character in the book, but there is another fairy that I’m quite fond of. Her name is Avery Waterstone and her sad, frightening story tends to pull at my heart strings a bit more than the other fairy stories in the book. Here is a piece from part of her story. She witnessed, firsthand, the slow, dark demise of Paragonia’s WishingKing and I can’t help but feel guilty I, the writer, put her through such turmoil ;)

Note: Again, the attached image was created by Chandra Free and NOT indicative of The WishKeeper. Chandra has agreed to create the cover of the book and this post is to help promote her amazing talent and artwork.

“Avery,” Erebus, again, snapped her from her paralyzing thoughts.  “Bring me the wish, please.”

She did as she was told and floated to her king.  As she flew closer to him, her newfound crush for Elanor slowly dissipated, and the strangeness of the situation came to the forefront.  Never had she handed a wish to her king before, and truly, there was never a reason to.  A WishingKing never handled the wishes, physically.  There was the monthly inspection of the Nursery, of course, but more for the inspection of treatment and cleanliness of the stables than the actual wrangling of the wishes.  That was a Keeper’s job.

Pausing at his bedside, she hesitated as the old king reached out his palm.  His eyes were bloodshot, wide and what Avery could only define as desperate.  She couldn’t help but pull back as he reached his palm a bit further.

“Please, my Avery.  You wish for your king to be well again, don’t you?” the king’s tone was filled with guilt, but not of the personal kind.  He meant for her to feel it.

She nodded her head and an uncontrollable feeling came over her – the opposite of what she had just felt while looking at Elanor.  She wanted it to stop, almost silently begging for it to end, but it was too strong.  Unconscious, she placed the little wish into the king’s clammy palm and quickly floated backwards.  There was something wrong about his hand.  The cracking of blissful naivete can be a painful process and Avery had never felt it before, but it was fear.  For the first time in her life, fear overcame her.

Erebus sat up in bed, leaning forward over his cupped hands.  They covered the Purity and while it looked like he was being delicate, Avery knew this was wrong.  This shouldn’t be happening.  The room filled with a darkness that had nothing to do with how bright or dark it could be, but more so an emotion.  A feeling spread throughout the room and nothing about this feeling was good.

Avery couldn’t fly backward any further as she bumped into the stained glass window, rain crashing into it.  The sound of the raindrops filled the room to a deafening hum and Avery watched her king consume the wish.  A black flash of shadow stretched from his hands, and with a quick crack of thunder, the darkness pulsed through him like a filthy wave.

A deep breath from Erebus released the tension in the room, but not the moment from Avery’s wide eyes.  What just happened?  What did her king just do?  He breathed deeply again, and moved his thick wool blanket away.  He climbed out of bed, still cupping the wish in his hand, and stood.  Erebus looked at little Avery, shaking, pushing herself against the foreign comfort of the cold stained glass, and opened his hands.  The once smiling, happy little Purity Wish was nothing but a grey, lifeless ball of dust.  He tilted his palm and the ashes of the wish fell unceremoniously to the floor.  Just something else for Avery to sweep up later.

“Your WishingKing feels much better now,” Erebus said, staring bright eyed at the scared little Keeper.  “You must promise me something, Avery.  No one can ever know about this.  It will be our little secret.  Something only you get to share with your WishingKing.”

He leaned in close.  Avery’s breath was quick, labored and all she wanted to do was rush to Elanor and tell her how sorry she was.  To tell her…just to tell her.  She had never cried before, but Avery felt what must have been a tear trickle down her face.  Little did she know, she would grow accustomed to them like a torturer does to pain.

“Speaking of secrets.  I have discovered one.  Have you and the Keepers been keeping something from your WishingKing?”

Avery shook her head, sincerely not understanding what her king was referencing.  What secret?  She would never keep anything from her king.

“The sixth,” Erebus said, demented, eager.

Her desperate little head was suddenly filled with scrambled thoughts.  Not the sixth.  He couldn’t mean…she shook her head again, more to erase the possibility that this is what he meant than to actually answer him.

“I chose you as my Regent, Avery, because I love your dedication to the truth.  Lies do not fit you, my Avery,” he continued, staring at her with wide anxious eyes.  “You will tell me where they keep the Death Wishes.”

Creeping out from under his cloak, a black fog enveloped Avery, wrapping her up in its thick, wet smoke.  Panic swept through her.  Why would my king do this?  Why would my beloved WishMaker make me tell him such a thing?

Her eyes crackled with a black shadow and her head perked up, looking intently at her king.  “Behind the Point, there is a cave,” she said, as if in a dream.  “All wishes of Death, forever will be saved.”  The fog rushed away from her, retreating back under his cloak.  Erebus stood upright, smiling as Avery’s black eyes continued to stare.

“And you will retrieve for me, such a wish,” Erebus said.


Jul 11 2013

Shea’s Unwanted Attention – Book Tease

Late Chapter Tease

Just for the fun of it, here is a small bite from late in the book. It was one of my favorite chapters to write, but this is only a little of it so as not to give too much away. There is already one particular spoiler, but…well…read if you like.

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Trying to brush the fog from her face, Shea crept toward the sound of her father’s voice.  Hazy images of her team finally came into focus; her mother on her knees hunched over and Foster cringing in the grass.  Beren was kneeling next to Elanor with his hand on her back.  The past few days had quickly shattered every preexisting belief she had about her parents.  They were no longer the strong, unbreakable pillars she once thought them to be.  For so long, and even after she lost her mother ten years prior, they were always two immovable forces, always right, always perfect, even if she disagreed at times.  They knew what was right and could do no wrong, but suddenly, as the wafts of smoky fog briefly cleared around them, she understood that they were not any different than her.  They were simply fairies struggling with their own inner fears, doubts and pain, and while some are lucky to experience a slow, evolving realization that parental figures are not as perfect as previously believed, Shea was forced to face up to it like a thrust of a hammer driving a nail.  Nothing in her life for the past decade had been easy, but somehow, as she stood there looking at her equals who were supposed to be superior in every way, the heaviness of adolescence slipped from her shoulders and a new, even more distinct weight set in.  Not only did her shoulders feel it, but so did her heart.  The blind reliance that childhood so easily conjures was gone.  They depended on her now and her life, like the onset of a sudden summer thunderstorm, shifted into adulthood.

As Shea came into the clearing, Beren looked up.  She could tell his eyes were fighting back more than just tears.  Shea noticed an odd, out of place look of pride from her father.  Goren stood, almost as if at attention and Foster forced himself to do the same.  Elanor raised her head and noticed them showing respect for her daughter.  The swelling pride helped Elanor gather enough strength to stand, though she used Beren’s hand for guidance.  They all looked at her with reverence and for a moment, she thought they were going to bow.  Please don’t bow, she thought.  Please stop looking at me like that.  It was unnerving to be shown respect, something of which she had wished for years and now suddenly she couldn’t help but feel it was undeserving.  It didn’t matter where she got the strength to pull her parents up and toss them through the Gate.  There was nothing special about her and, truly, it was her fault they were standing in the thick onslaught of their WishingKing’s deceit.  Goren and Foster helped just as much as I did.  Please stop looking at me, she continued to thoughtfully beg.

Finally Beren broke the awkward moment and placed a hand on her shoulder.  He could tell she felt suddenly exposed.  Simply nodding in approval, he patted her once on the shoulder and for the first time, Shea was thankful for her father’s inability to express himself.


Jan 11 2013

Meet the Author

Max TimmMaximilian Arthur Timm

Max is a risk averse, blindly ambitious, forcefully sure-footed writer who continuously laughs at his ability to avoid confrontation. It is, however, equally comical that he chose a profession within the world of arts and entertainment since his aforementioned ‘misbehaviors’ are constantly challenged.

A native of Wisconsin, he grew up in the nation’s circus capital, Delavan, where the local drinking fountains were the opened mouths of lions, a statue of a clown waving from between the legs of a giant elephant was at the center of town, and the clown hall of fame was directly across the street from his legitimately haunted house. Because of his father’s athletic roots, Max was raised to be a relative jock and somehow avoided the obvious fantasy world of his little hometown. Upon the age of twelve, however, his father secretly replaced Max’s copy of Mickey Mantle’s autobiography with an unknown writer’s book (unknown to Max, anyway) titled Tom Sawyer. Little did his father know, Max’s dreams of playing shortstop for the Chicago Cubs would slowly shift and evolve into an intention to create stories and maintain a career as a writer. From Twain to Tolkien to C.S. Lewis, Susan Cooper (The Dark is Rising) and Stephen King, Max is forever grateful for his father’s equal devotion to athletics and the arts, otherwise he would have never fallen in love with the power of such imagination.

After two years at Holy Cross College at Notre Dame, swimming through a Liberal Arts major and watching football, Max discovered the art of filmmaking and transferred to Columbia College Chicago. He majored in screenwriting and producing at Columbia, and eventually found himself dizzy within the entertainment capital, Los Angeles. After numerous assistant positions at film distribution and advertising companies, Max stumbled upon Writers Boot Camp (WBC) in Santa Monica, CA. Graduating from its Professional Membership in 2006, Max was asked to stay with WBC as a Membership Coordinator and Instructor. After six years, working his way up to Creative Director/Director of Development, Max worked with thousands of writers on their screenplays and novels, as well as personally consulted A-List celebrities.

His decision to leave Writers Boot Camp was based on his need to focus on his own talents and writing endeavors. Both a screenwriter and novelist, Max has created a lifelong relationship with writing. His focus is within the realms of Middle Grade and Young Adult fiction, as well as movies geared toward family entertainment. He still believes James Howe’s Bunnicula series is one of the finest Middle Grade series ever written, and that “The Celery Stalks at Midnight” may very well be the best book title ever created.

Currently living in a 100 year-old Craftsmen in the oldest neighborhood of Los Angeles, Max’s writing focus is currently on moving the traditional fairy beyond Middle Grade and into the realm of Young Adult fiction.