Tag Archives: young adult

SEE ME, SEE ME NOT – Pre-order campaign

This is my first pre-order campaign. Ever. And I’d like to thank Erin Bowman for her amazing insight on how to organize a pre-order campaign.

I can’t believe I’m almost ready to release SEE ME, SEE ME NOT. It’s another of those books that has been simmering for awhile and all the flavors have finally taken 🙂

I’m so excited to share this book with you all, and I want to give a little something to everyone who pre-orders an e-copy. INTERNATIONAL READERS are welcome to join this campaign and will not only receive the swag but also be entered to win the

And yes, I mean EVERYONE. (Well, at least while supplies last.)

Where can you pre-order? And it’s only $3.99!

If you preorder SEE ME, SEE ME NOT by August 28th, I’ll send you a swag pack including:

» 1 SEE ME, SEE ME NOT bookmark
» 1 SEE ME, SEE ME NOT stickers (selection made at random, image may vary)

Here’s a peek at the front and back of the bookmark, and the stickers…

I cross my arms on my chest, needing to put some distance between us. Because this girl with her soft voice and probing gaze and laughter that doesn_t completely hide her sadness is ge

PLEASE NOTE: I have different quantities of bookmarks and stickers, and they will only be available while supplies last. This means the sooner you preorder and fill out the form, the better chance you have of getting all three! (I’ll probably run out of  stickers long before I run out of bookmarks.)

Once the contest closes, I’ll randomly draw runner-up and grand-prize winners!

In addition to the swag pack, FIVE runner-up winners will receive:

» a limited edition signed print of the SEE ME, SEE ME NOT cover (roughly 6” x 11”)

And in addition to the swag pack, ONE grand-prize winners will receive the following bundle:

» a limited edition signed print of SEE ME, SEE ME NOT’s cover (roughly 6” x 11”)
»  a signed paperback copy of SEE ME, SEE ME NOT
»  a signed copy of Katy Upperman’s debut: KISSING MAX HOLDEN
»  a signed copy of FEAR ME, FEAR ME NOT
» A flying pig charm! 🙂 Winged Pig pendant charm with hand stamped initial letter charm on high quality key ring or bangles or bracelet or stainless steel chain (Etsy)
» $10 gift card (to Amazon or B&N, winner’s choice)

TO ENTER:

Preorder SEE ME, SEE ME NOT by 11:59 PM ET on August 28th and fill out the form below. No really, that’s it! Simply fill out the form letting me know you’ve ordered your copy, and you’re guaranteed a swag pack while supplies last, as well as a chance to win the runner-up or grand-prize. I’m not requiring a proof of purchase for swag packs, but I will ask to see your receipt if your name is drawn as a runner-up or grand prize winner, so hold on to it! Again, this is open internationally

Here’s the form to enter. If it doesn’t load for some reason, click here.

FEAR ME, FEAR ME NOT has a cover and a giveaway :)

Facebook Cover

My new book, a YA romantic suspense novel FEAR ME, FEAR ME NOT has been in the making for several years. I could say I wrote it in 3 months, but it’s actually taken me 3 years to get the story where I wanted it to be. It will be published on September 27th, 2016 and you can already pre-order it here. 

While browsing the pre-made covers of Najla Qambers , I came across one I fell in love with for a book about another character. The photographer was Lindee Robinson, so I reached out to her to see if I could see more pictures of different couples and I found Erin and Dimitri 🙂

Thank you so much Najla and Lindee!

Fear Me, Fear Me Not Cover

SCREAM meets FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS in this new young adult romantic suspense novel by Elodie Nowodazkij.

Fear is power. They fear me. They don’t fear me enough. Every year a girl disappears in Gavert County, Texas. Their bodies are found days, sometimes months, later with an angel wing carved on their face. They call me “the Angel Killer” and I’m on the hunt again. But this time, it’s personal.

Seventeen-year-old cheerleader Erin Hortz has been warned about the Angel Killer all her life. She never walks alone in the dark. She doesn’t talk to strangers. She doesn’t accept drinks at parties. All she wants is to finish her senior year with a win at the Miss Junior Queen of Hearts pageant, capture the perfect light over the lake with her new camera, and finally catch the attention of her best friend Nadia’s brother—former football star Dimitri Kuklev. Since his injury, they’ve been spending a lot of time together. And getting to know the real Dimitri—not the one she put on a pedestal in her diary is better than she could ever have imagined. And she’s falling hard.

Nineteen-year-old Dimitri’s injury brought him from football superstar with universities from all around the country knocking at his door to not knowing what he wants to do with his life. Taking classes at the local community college is supposed to get him back on track, but all he wants is to be on the field again. The only person who seems to understand him is the one he swore to keep in the friend zone: Erin. His sister Nadia’s best friend and the reason why he can’t keep a girlfriend. Between their early morning jogs, their time spent at the lake laughing, and their late night conversations, he’s having a hard time remembering why it’s such a bad idea.
But when Nadia doesn’t come home after a party, Dimitri and Erin know they must find her before it’s too late—even if that means risking their own lives and everything Erin’s ever known.

Because the main suspect is Erin’s father.

Amazon preorder

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Annnnnd you could win a $50 Amazon Gift Card by participating in The Cover Reveal Giveaway…

download

THANK YOU 🙂

Grab the e-book of ONE DREAM ONLY for FREE :) or own it as paperback!

The e-book of ONE DREAM ONLY is now available for FREE!

That’s right 🙂 You can now read ONE DREAM ONLY with just one click of the mouse.

For Free.

Free Ebook

Or you can also now own ONE DREAM ONLY as paperback. Yes, you can 🙂

Paperback

Oh and if you have a few minutes, I would be FOREVER grateful if you could leave a review on Amazon, B&N and/or Goodreads. It really DOES help 🙂

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Happy Wednesday everyone!

Exclusive: First chapter of ONE TWO THREE

ONE TCover 3WO THREE is coming out on June 26th…Yesterday, I received my copy edits from the wonderful Danielle and Lorrie from Double Vision Editorial. It’s surreal and crazy and insane and amazing and I cannot wait for my little story to find its way onto the world. As soon as I’m done with copy editing, it will go off to formatting and then the first e-ARCs and ARCs will find their first readers.

Today, I’m sharing an exclusive preview: the entire first chapter of ONE TWO THREE…There might still be a few typos, they will be corrected for the final version.

 

Chapter 1

Chopin’s music is the soundtrack of my life.

Papa played his most heart-wrenching waltzes, Mama used his nocturnes as lullabies when I was little, and my legs itched to form an arabesque whenever I heard Polonaises op. 40. Chopin used to be my escape, a way to dream about the future, about everything I wanted—from finally not being scared of falling in love to dancing the role of Cinderella one day at the Bolshoi Theater in Moscow.

But that was before.

The somber melody of Chopin’s Prelude op. 28 oppresses me. That piece is also called “Suffocation.” How fitting. Mama listens to it on repeat. She’s slumped at the living room table in the far corner. Only one of the lights is working and the darkness almost settles around her as she pours herself one shot of vodka after the other.

“Mama, you need to go to sleep,” I tell her for the fifth time. She’s downing the bottle as if there’s no tomorrow, and maybe that’s what she’s hoping for. Her head wobbles from one side to another. She’s already far gone. I missed my doctor’s appointment today because she was too drunk to drive me. I had to lie for her again. Dr. Gibson bought it, and we rescheduled for two weeks. He agreed that as long as I followed his advice (wearing my knee brace, doing my strength exercises, and no jumps) I could volunteer at the community center to help little kids learn to dance. He even gave my name to the volunteer coordinator there. She was looking for a college student, but I convinced her during the interview that even though I was only seventeen, she should still give me a chance. If I do well with the kids this Saturday, I’ll get to help out every weekend for a few hours.

Mama stands up, swaying around with the bottle in her hand.

“I need you out of my face,” she slurs and pushes me away. I wouldn’t have stumbled before. After all, balance is everything for a ballerina, but my knee brace makes my movements awkward. I stumble into the bookshelves holding my babushka’s favorite novels from Tolstoy and Shakespeare: she loved Anna Karenina and Romeo and Juliet. She always laughed about a pamphlet Tolstoy wrote that criticized Shakespeare, and she could talk for hours about literature. If my babushka were here, maybe she’d be able to get through to Mama. But at the same time, I’m relieved she didn’t see how her family crumbled to pieces after the accident.

“It was my fault!” Mama’s words cut through my heart, knowing I can’t seem to convince her otherwise. “It was my fault,” she whispers. “I killed him!” Her voice goes crescendo.  “I don’t want to see you! Get out!”

My stomach clenches. No matter how many times she pushes me away, I still have the same reaction: I want to comfort her, to remind her she’s not responsible.

I am.

“You weren’t in the car.” I use my most soothing voice. “I was. You didn’t do anything.”

“I told you to get out!” Mama is in my face, but I don’t flinch. Even though her fury scares the crap out of me, she never hit me. Not once, despite being drunk more often than not, ever since the accident.

“Listen, Mama.”

“You listen.” She points a wobbly finger at me, her usual striking features are contorted in a mask of despair: her mascara trails down her cheeks with her tears, her blue eyes, a bit clearer than Papa’s and mine, are all puffed up, and the mouth that can curve into a beautiful smile is a thin line. “I want you out. If only you didn’t ask him to drive you back.”

I didn’t want him to drive me back on that day, but he didn’t leave me a choice. I wanted to know why he was so angry. I wanted him to talk to me. But I had to be back at school. He understood how much it all meant to me, and he insisted I couldn’t miss my plane.

“If only—” She doesn’t finish her sentence, instead she downs another shot. “Just go!”

I clutch the necklace my parents gave me for my thirteenth birthday. The silver chain holds the pendant I had been eyeing for weeks: ballet shoes with pale pink diamond. Papa told me it would be my lucky charm. I was wearing it for my first callbacks at the School of Performing Arts. It was with me the day I received my first big role. But it didn’t protect us from the accident. Touching it calms and burns me at the same time, but I don’t have it in me to take it off.

“Mama,” I try again.

“I killed him!” Mama screams so loudly the entire neighborhood might hear her. There are only fifteen houses or so scattered in our little community, but they’ve been here forever. When we moved into my babushka’s house two weeks ago, they all welcomed us with open arms, giving us apple pies and casseroles. Mama put on her show: she thanked them all profusely but still downed half a bottle of vodka as soon as she closed the door.

This house used to be synonymous with summer fun and spending time with my best friend, Becca, with my parents at least pretending to get along so as not to worry my grandmother or their friends. But this is not the house I would choose to come back to after everything that has happened. My babushka passed away last January and left the house to my parents. I asked Mama why we couldn’t start fresh somewhere far away. She said tears don’t care where you are, that sadness follows you everywhere, and at least in the little town she grew up in and where we spent every summer, her friends could help her find a job. She’s starting as part-time secretary at Becca’s dad’s law firm tomorrow.   Staying in our house in Maine was too expensive anyway. Another reason why moving to Everbird in New Jersey made sense according to her.

The pressure in my chest builds up, but crying won’t change a thing. There’s no way she’ll listen to me now, no matter how angry or sad I am.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. I grab my coat and my backpack and close the door, not bothering to hide my scar under makeup like I usually do.  When the car crashed against the tree, pieces of the windows stuck in my skin and ripped part of my left cheek. The surgery left a red trail, starting in the middle of my cheek and spreading to my ear.

But I don’t care about my face right now, I need to get to a place that can quiet my thoughts, and stop the sadness from pouring into my veins like a never-ending torrent. The lake that’s less than a mile from our home has always been my special place during the summers. It’s where Becca taught me how to swim and where we named ourselves “Sirens for Life.” It’s where I always went to practice secretly after my curfew and where I have the best memories of my parents. Before Mama’s drinking got the best of her, before their fights, before the crash that took Papa and my dreams.

The shortcut to the lake from our home is a dirt road that isn’t well lit, but I know the way by heart. I hurry down the path, tuning my iPod to Chopin’s happier music. But I can’t drown out Mama’s voice. It resonates in my head. It’s my fault! I know she’s wrong because she’s not the one who killed him. I did. If only I didn’t get into an argument with him in the car. If only I had warned him about the truck. I bite back a sob and rip off my knee brace to walk even faster. At first, my knee is stiff, but at least I can extend my leg much better now.

Seeing the lake calms me down, soothes me. This place is always crowded in the summer, but on this crisp September night, there’s no one. The lights surrounding the area flicker, the tall trees leave interesting shadows on the ground, and a discarded pink umbrella stands next to the bench by the grilling area. I turn up the volume of my iPod even more, settle on the bench, and search through my backpack. My pointes show the wear and tear of the last years, and no matter how much I scrub, there’s one smudge that doesn’t want to go away.

Memories flash back when I slip them on: my father handing me a bouquet of lilies after each of my recitals, the crew from the School of Performing Arts sneaking out to get ice cream, the summers I spent on the raft at the lake with Becca and my babushka, the hours at the barre.

Everything’s gone.

Dancing’s always been my escape from reality: from the fights my parents had more and more often, from my babushka passing away all alone at the hospital because no one told me she was sick, from my fears of letting anyone get really close.

Dancing’s always been my future.

Dancing’s always been who I am. So even if I can’t dance like I used to, even if I can’t put too much pressure on my knee, I’m convinced I’ll train my way back to the top, that I’ll show Dr. Gibson and the rest of them that they got it wrong, when they said it was very unlikely I would ever go back on stage. Juilliard postponed my audition and the director of the School of Performing Arts told he was holding a spot for me if I wanted to come back. If I could come back.

I use the bench as my own personal barre, slowly bend my knees, keeping them over my toes. Grounding my heels on the ground, I stretch down as much as I can, but I don’t make it past a demi-plié. I warm up for ten minutes, losing myself in the familiar movements. The stars reflect on the water; it could be the perfect backdrop for a production of Swan Lake. I wish I could position myself for a grand jeté, feel the wind surround me as I fly into the air, but I know better than to jeopardize the progress I’ve made. The last time I tried, my kneecap almost snapped again. Both my knees were smashed in the car crash, but my pivot leg suffered the most.

Instead, I angle my feet for some small pas de bourrée. I go faster and faster, until I bump into a rock. Fear steals my breath away. I avoid landing on my leg and instead fall on my ass.

Papa used to say there is a Russian proverb for everything. Whenever I was disappointed about a rehearsal gone wrong, I called him. He always asked me if I gave it my best. When I said yes, he asked me if I learned something, and then he would say Na bezryb’ye i rak—ryba, which means on a fishing lull, even a crayfish is fish. It was his way of telling me that “something is better than nothing.”

I repeat the words in my head as my fingers nervously circle my knee, testing for any signs of swelling.

“Are you okay?” There’s a guy in the shadows—with an accent and a nice baritone voice.

🙂 Can’t wait to share the rest with you soon!

So happy to share the cover of ONE, TWO, THREE…with all of you! (with giveaway)

I have to say I’m excited and anxious and happy (did I mention excited?) to share my cover with all of you today! Derek from CreativIndie did an amazing job in capturing the novel and #Team123 was super duper helpful in giving me their impressions on the different samples I received.

The cover I’m about to unveil is the one we all fell in love with, and it’s the one that had my heart from the very beginning. It’s SO gorgeous! And I love it!

Thank you as well to Giselle from Xpresso Book Tours who’s been wonderful. 60 bloggers signed up to help reveal my cover (THANK YOU!) To celebrate the cover reveal, I’m also organizing a giveaway (it’s open internationally and the link is at the end of this blog post)

And now….drum roll…

ONE, TWO, THREE...banner

 

Official cover

 

Cover 3

Title: ONE, TWO, THREE…

Author: Elodie Nowodazkij (that’s me…squeeeeeeeeee)

Cover designer: Derek Murphy (CreativIndie)

Blurb:  Last year, Natalya was attending the School of Performing Arts in New York City. Last year, she was well on her way to becoming a professional ballerina. Last year, her father was still alive.

But a car crash changed all that—and Natalya can’t stop blaming herself. Now, she goes to a regular high school in New Jersey; lives with her onetime prima ballerina, now alcoholic mother; and has no hope of a dance career.

At her new school, however, sexy soccer player Antonio sees a brighter future for Natalya, or at least a more pleasant present, and his patient charms eventually draw her out of her shell. But when upsetting secrets come to light and Tonio’s own problems draw her in, Natalya shuts down again, this time turning to alcohol herself. Can Natalya learn to trust Antonio before she loses him—and destroys herself?

Goodreads button

And you can win things too (just click on the Rafflecopter giveaway link)

  • 3 gifts cards $15 to Amazon/Apple/B&N (your choice)
  • One autographed ARC of ONE, TWO, THREE…
  • 3 ARCS (ebook)
  • $25 donation to the classroom book project of your choice on DonorsChoose.org

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Goddess Interrupted – A review and my take on mythology….

I´ve mentioned this before: I love mythology. I focused part of my Master´s thesis on the re-telling of MEDEA by Christa Wolf using feminism and new historicism theories. I immersed myself in the evolution of women´s image through the different adaptations of the myth. I also looked at MEDEA through Christa Wolf´s lens in regards to the divided Germany and her own personal history.

I breathed MEDEA for months. Christa Wolf did a big u-turn: in her story, Medea is not a child-murderer. I could spend hours discussing her version but this post is about GODDESS INTERRUPTED (sequel of The Goddess Test). Thanks to Netgalley, I read an ARC of this book on my kindle 🙂

Summary from GoodreadsKate Winters has won immortality. But if she wants a life with Henry in the Underworld, she’ll have to fight for it.Becoming immortal wasn’t supposed to be the easy part. Though Kate is about to be crowned Queen of the Underworld, she’s as isolated as ever. And despite her growing love for Henry, ruler of the Underworld, he’s becoming ever more distant and secretive. Then, in the midst of Kate’s coronation, Henry is abducted by the only being powerful enough to kill him: the King of the Titans.As the other gods prepare for a war that could end them all, it is up to Kate to save Henry from the depths of Tartarus. But in order to navigate the endless caverns of the Underworld, Kate must enlist the help of the one person who is the greatest threat to her future.Henry’s first wife, Persephone.

Some reviews focus on how Aimee Carter changed the myth or how this book doesn´t live up to the expectations one has from Greek mythology or the story of Persephone in general…For me, it did not matter. I wanted a story to entertain me and it did. I wanted a story which takes a new take on a myth and it did. I wanted a story in which I can feel for the characters and it somewhat did. There are certain part of the stories during which I wished I could speak to Kate to get some sense into her but in a way, I enjoyed this because this meant I let myself dive into the story enough to have an opinion on the actions of the main characters. I´ll pick up the last installment of the trilogy when it comes out 😀

Tell me, are there any adaptation of famous stories that you really enjoyed reading?

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