Colleen Houck


“I took hold of that scourge -filled ship and crushed it between my limbs, hurtling it into the second sun, the red one that gave me strength. But I was too late." Terraformer

Colleen's blog


  • YASH Fall 2015-Hosting Cat Winters

    October 1, 2015


    Welcome to the 11th YA Scavenger Hunt!

    new logo

    Hello! I am Colleen Houck (standing in for Jessica Burkhart)

    your hostess for this leg of the hunt.

     You are currently hunting on

    Orange Team

    Check out the amazing author I’m hosting.

    But, first, a few rules.

    SCAVENGER HUNT PUZZLE RULES

    Directions: Below, you’ll notice that I’ve listed my favorite number. Collect the favorite numbers of all the authors on TEAM ORANGE, and then add them up (don’t worry, you can use a calculator!)

    HINT: THE SECRET NUMBER IS HIGHLIGHTED IN ORANGE!

     Entry Form: Once you’ve added up all the numbers, make sure you fill out the form here to officially qualify for the grand prize. Only entries that have the correct number will qualify.

    Rules: Open internationally, anyone below the age of 18 should have a parent or guardian’s permission to enter. To be eligible for the grand prize, you must submit the completed entry form by SUNDAY, October 4th, at noon Pacific Time. Entries sent without the correct number or without contact information will not be considered.

    On this hunt, you not only get access to exclusive content from each participating YA author, you also get a secret number. Add up the numbers, and enter it for a chance to win a major prize–one lucky winner will receive at least one signed book from each author on my team in the hunt! But play fast. This contest (and all the exclusive bonus material) will only be online until noon PST on Sunday, October 4th!

    There are EIGHT contests going on simultaneously, and you can enter one or all! BLUE TEAM, RED TEAM,  GOLD TEAM, ORANGE TEAM, PINK TEAM, PURPLE TEAM, TEAL TEAM,  & GREEN TEAM! Check out each team for a chance to win eight different sets of signed books!

    If you’d like to find out more about the hunt, see links to all the authors participating, and see the full list of prizes up for grabs, go to the YA Scavenger Hunt page.

    Now that all the technical stuff is out of the way, I’ll introduce the author I am hosting on this hunt.

    I am super excited to be hosting…

    Cat Winters!

    CatBW

    BIO: Cat Winters is the award-winning author of paranormal, historical fiction for teens and adults. Her YA works include IN THE SHADOW OF BLACKBIRDS, THE CURE FOR DREAMING, and the upcoming HAMLET-inspired 1920s novel, THE STEEP AND THORNY WAY (March 2016). Her debut adult novel, THE UNINVITED, released in 2015, and her second book for adults, YESTERNIGHT, is scheduled for 2016.

    Winters was born and raised in Southern California, just a short drive down the freeway from Disneyland. She currently lives in Portland, Oregon, with her husband and two kids.

    Jessica’s secret number for the hunt is 3!

    The book Cat is showcasing in the YA Scavenger Hunt this season is

    The Cure for Dreaming

    CureforDreaming_finalcover

    Here’s a teaser, 

    Olivia Mead is a headstrong, independent girl—a suffragist—in an age that prefers its girls to be docile. It’s 1900 in Oregon, and Olivia’s father, concerned that she’s headed for trouble, convinces a stage mesmerist to try to hypnotize the rebellion out of her. But the hypnotist, an intriguing young man named Henri Reverie, gives her a terrible gift instead: she’s able to see people’s true natures, manifesting as visions of darkness and goodness, while also unable to speak her true thoughts out loud. Winters breathes new life into history once again with an atmospheric, vividly real story, including archival photos and art from the period throughout.

    You can now add The Cure for Dreaming to your TBR list on Goodreads!

    Are you as interested in this book?

    Here’s how you can your hands on it!

    You can buy her book HERE!


    NEVER BEFORE SEEN TRAILER STRAIGHT AHEAD!

    My second YA novel, THE CURE FOR DREAMING, involves hypnotism, DRACULA, and a young suffragist named Olivia Mead in 1900 America. Originally, I created a Gothic, theatrical book trailer for the novel that features the gorgeous song “Blood Waltz,” composed and performed by the highly talented Kristen Lawrence (www.HalloweenCarols.com). My publisher felt the trailer was a bit much, however, so we opted for a simpler trailer in which I read a short excerpt from the book.

    I spent a great deal of time creating the original book trailer, but it’s just been sitting on my computer, unseen, lonely. Now, for the first time ever, I present to you the full, original trailer with its sumptuous musical accompaniment that’s perfect for the Halloween season.

     

     Don’t forget to enter the contest for a chance to win a ton of signed books by me and many more!

    Thank you so much for visiting my website!

    Ready to move on to the next link in the hunt? Then head on over to visit author Erica Cameron.

    LINK TO NEXT BLOG

    This entry was posted in YA Scavenger Hunt.

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    Categories
    Archive
    Author Bio
    Linda

    I’m Linda Louise, one of the bloggers on this website and Colleen’s little sister. I’m just a girl in her mid-thirties who feels thirteen when I play outside with my boys, fifteen when I sing my heart out listening to tunes while driving by myself, and sixty five when I go out past ten at night. I have a thing for junior mints, Mt. Dew, shrimp and kale (though not all at once) and I have a crush on Superman. I still get girlish butterflies when I read Twilight, cry when I read These is My Words, and smile from ear to ear when I read Anne of Green Gables. I have nightmares about aliens on a regular basis and I have a bad habit of midnight snacking. I love everything sports, except golf (although can that honestly be considered a sport??), and I hate anything that slithers, hisses, or stings. I have a problem with giggling at inappropriate moments and I sometimes wish life was a musical. I love science, hate math, love Dr. Seuss, and hate olives. My family is my world and my joys come from their happiness. I’ve learned I don’t know much about anything and I live for a good adventure, naps, cuddles, stories, exceptional food and The Shire.

  • YASH Fall 2015-Hosting Julie Reece

    October 1, 2015


    Welcome to the 11th YA Scavenger Hunt!

    new logo

    Hello! I am Colleen Houck (standing in for Michael Gibney)

    your hostess for this leg of the hunt.

     You are currently hunting on

    Computer generated image with clipping path - Team.

    Check out the amazing author I’m hosting.

    But, first, a few rules.

    SCAVENGER HUNT PUZZLE RULES

    Directions: Below, you’ll notice that I’ve listed my favorite number. Collect the favorite numbers of all the authors on TEAM GOLD, and then add them up (don’t worry, you can use a calculator!)

    HINT: THE SECRET NUMBER IS HIGHLIGHTED IN GOLD!

     Entry Form: Once you’ve added up all the numbers, make sure you fill out the form here to officially qualify for the grand prize. Only entries that have the correct number will qualify.

    Rules: Open internationally, anyone below the age of 18 should have a parent or guardian’s permission to enter. To be eligible for the grand prize, you must submit the completed entry form by SUNDAY, October 4th, at noon Pacific Time. Entries sent without the correct number or without contact information will not be considered.

    On this hunt, you not only get access to exclusive content from each participating YA author, you also get a secret number. Add up the numbers, and enter it for a chance to win a major prize–one lucky winner will receive at least one signed book from each author on my team in the hunt! But play fast. This contest (and all the exclusive bonus material) will only be online until noon PST on Sunday, October 4th!

    There are EIGHT contests going on simultaneously, and you can enter one or all! BLUE TEAM, RED TEAM,  GOLD TEAM, ORANGE TEAM, PINK TEAM, PURPLE TEAM, TEAL TEAM,  & GREEN TEAM! Check out each team for a chance to win eight different sets of signed books!

    If you’d like to find out more about the hunt, see links to all the authors participating, and see the full list of prizes up for grabs, go to the YA Scavenger Hunt page.

    Now that all the technical stuff is out of the way, I’ll introduce the author I am hosting on this hunt.


     

    I am super excited to be hosting…

    JULIE REECE!

    Julie_Reece_Image_2

    BIO: Julie Reece writes YA stories. Most are inspired by the southeastern states where she grew up. She’s passionate about family, friends, animals, underdogs, and writing, but bubble baths and dark chocolate make the list, too.

    The secret number for the hunt is 7!

    The book Julie is showcasing in the YA Scavenger Hunt this season is

    The Artisans

    The Artisans updated cover


    About The Book

    They say death can be beautiful. But after the death of her mother, seventeen-year-old Raven Weathersby gives up her dream of becoming a fashion designer, barely surviving life in the South Carolina lowlands.

    To make ends meet, Raven works after school as a seamstress creating stunning works of fashion that often rival the great names of the day.

    Instead of making things easier on the high school senior, her stepdad’s drinking leads to a run in with the highly reclusive heir to the Maddox family fortune, Gideon Maddox.

    But Raven’s stepdad’s drying out and in no condition to attend the meeting with Maddox. So Raven volunteers to take his place and offers to repay the debt in order to keep the only father she’s ever known out of jail, or worse.

    Gideon Maddox agrees, outlining an outrageous demand: Raven must live in his home for a year while she designs for Maddox Industries’ clothing line, signing over her creative rights.

    Her handsome young captor is arrogant and infuriating to the nth degree, and Raven can’t imagine working for him, let alone sharing the same space for more than five minutes.

    But nothing is ever as it seems. Is Gideon Maddox the monster the world believes him to be? And can he stand to let the young seamstress see him as he really is?


    BONUS CONTENT!

    ravenholdingbook

    Exclusive Content
    Deleted First Chapter

     

    Chapter One
    The doorbell to Harry’s Shoe and Leather Repair Shop chimes with an anemic clang. I’ve never met anyone named Harry. My stepfather leases from a slumlord named Lou who owns the joint. I ignore the bell, despite the fact it’s my job to cheerfully greet every customer. Cheerful isn’t in my vocabulary. Few visit the dilapidated strip mall anymore, and half of those aren’t here for anything printed on the sign above the door. I continue wrestling with a buttonhole in my new corset when I hear someone’s throat clear.

    “Excuse me.”

    My fingers stop moving over the fabric. The voice is deep, with a silky, distinctive tone that demands attention. When I glance up, a boy stands at the counter. Boy? Guy. He’s six feet, at least. Curly blond hair falls in an appealing way over his brow obscuring one eye. The other is blue. He’s wearing tan leather pants, a white cotton tunic, and a green, duck canvas overcoat that hangs to his knees, complete with faux fur collar. A little much for September in the south, but those who visit me often sacrifice comfort for style. His clothes are good, not as good as mine, but custom, and quite nice. I make my observations in seconds, ticking off the particulars. Noticing aesthetic details is part of my other job.

    “Can I help you?” I say, and though there are three pairs of shoes in the back, waiting to be picked up by clients, I’m pretty sure that’s not why the square-jawed G.Q. model is here.

    Blondie lifts his hand. His oversized cuff falls away as he snaps two fingers, producing a single playing card. It’s my business card. The queen of hearts, Steampunk edition, Bicycle brand, thank you very much.

    “Neat trick,” I say. Slowly extracting the card from his fingertips, I flip it, finding the initials R.R.W. in the corner.  Raven (Rae) Weathersby in red sharpie marker. That’s me all right. “Where did you get this?”

    “Dane.” His chin lifts ever so slightly, giving the impression he is unused to being questioned. “He made a delivery to my house yesterday. I admired his clothes, and asked where he bought them—which led me to you.”

    His speech is prep-school snark, or tutored, home-school formal. He might be a rich social type from Atlanta or Savannah, but no, if Dane delivers to his house, he must be local. “That’s interesting. Dane has never referred anyone to me before.”

    His lips curl to a half smile that in no way affects the wary look in his eyes. “I can be very persuasive.”

    Or threatening. I don’t even try to hide my suspicions; they protect me. When he shifts his weight, I notice his cane for the first time. I’d kill to own one like it. Well, maybe not kill, but maim? Definitely. The dark wood and gold, lion-head grip makes it the most beautiful walking stick I have ever seen.

    There’s something unsettling about my visitor, but money is tight this week and our monetary needs make my decision for me. “Wait here.”

    He nods curtly, lips press together in a stoic line. I guess he’s not used to waiting, either. My butt slides off the stool, and I head for our storage room. I lean over the sleeping bags rolled up on the floor and grab a black binder from the shelf. Edgar, my cat, grumbles from his spot on the bookshelf, as if taking my portfolio without his permission is a crime. Less than thirty seconds later, I’m back at the glass display counter out front.

    My new design for a corset hangs from the blond guy’s long fingers. He turns it over, examining the construction. I reach out, pluck the garment from his hands, and offer my binder in exchange. “I don’t think burgundy is your color.”

    His eyebrows twitch. “You never know.” While he’s busy thumbing through the pages of my workbook, I study him. He’s around seventeen, same as me, maybe a bit older. His brow creases as he studies my sketches which combine Goth and Steampunk fashion trends. “I’m intrigued. Your work is so unusual.” A ghost of a smile threatens as he glances up.  “What is your name?”

    “Queen of hearts, for now, and you are …”

    He sets the book on the counter. With another flick of his wrist, a new card materializes—Jack of spades. That might be cheesy on someone else. Not him. The guy oozes more electrical sex appeal than a leaky power plant.

    “A jack huh, why not the king?”

    “Gives me something to aspire to.”

    “That’s very clever, Jack.” The guy is stunning from a physical standpoint. It’s hard not to stare, but he’s cocky and evasive. In my book, arrogance plus evasive equals dangerous, and off limits. Edgar saunters out from the storage room and leaps to the countertop. My thirty-pound, black Maine Coon looks more panther than cat. His purr saws in and out of his chest as he inspects our visitor.

    Another half-smile escapes as Jack glances from my cat to me. His grin is crooked, as though the muscles are stiff from disuse. “So, will you make something for me?”

    “I don’t know you. I’ll talk to Dane, and if you check out, I’ll be in touch.” I already know I want to create for him. Despite his cagy attitude, he is tall and lean. He would wear my clothes like a runway god. “Leave your measurements, just in case.” He stands there, staring me down, making no move to comply. In fact, we eye each other like Cobra and Mongoose.

    His head tilts. “My address is on the card. Contact me when you decide.” As he glances around our shabby little store, he shakes the honeyed curls from his face. “Looks are deceiving, are they not? I’m surprised someone with your … talent is still working out of a dive like this. I hope I haven’t been misled.” He pulls a large, gold coin from his pocket and rolls it with practiced grace between his nimble fingers.

    There are two kinds of arrogance in boys. The first is when a kid is all bluff and brag without the skill to back it up. The second is a guy who knows he can deliver, there’s a quiet confidence in his eyes, a deadly grace to his movements. Jack belongs in group two. I’m not sure it’s wise to bait him, but I don’t want him thinking I’m afraid. My reputation depends on it.

    My gaze roams up and down his frame with purpose. “Do you know what the definition of spoiled is, Jack? Permanent damage—due to excess. From the looks of you, I guess you’d be used to disappointment by now.”

    His grin is hard as granite. “I just might have to make you pay for that one.”

    It’s time for him to go. I lift my portfolio from the counter, but drop it. Damn, so not cool. The guy is getting to me. I kneel, retrieving my book, and in the time it takes to stand, Jack is gone. I didn’t hear his fading footsteps, no door chime, nothing.

    The clock on the wall starts with an annoying second hand counting off time. When did it stop? The face reads eight forty five. My thumb brushes the screen on my cell phone where the numbers glow two minutes after nine. I glance around the store again. Weird. I lift Jack’s card, noting his address.

    And a chill ticks down my spine.


    Want to get your hands on this book? You can get it at B&N, on Kobo, & on Amazon.

    You can also check out her book on Goodreads, her Pinterest page, her website, her blog, and follow her on Twitter.

    Check out the other authors on the Gold Team!

    YASH GOLD TEAM 2015

    Don’t forget to enter the contest for a chance to win a ton of signed books by me and many more!

    Thank you so much for visiting my website!

    Ready to move on to the next link in the hunt? Then head on over to visit author Laurie Stolarz.

    LINK TO NEXT BLOG

    This entry was posted in YA Scavenger Hunt.

    3 Responses to YASH Fall 2015-Hosting Julie Reece


    1. Pingback: Go #TeamGold! 11th YA Scavenger Hunt is LIVE! #YASH @YAScavengerHunt | Julie Antonovich Reece

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    Categories
    Archive
    Author Bio
    Colleen Houck

    New York Times Bestselling author Colleen Houck is a lifelong reader whose literary interests include action, adventure, paranormal, science fiction, and romance. When she's not busy writing, she likes to spend time chatting on the phone with one of her six siblings, watching plays, and shopping online. Colleen has lived in Arizona, Idaho, Utah, California, and North Carolina and is now permanently settled in Salem, Oregon with her husband and a huge assortment of plush tigers.

  • Modern Ink Society Featuring Marissa Meyer

    September 23, 2015


    FEATURING GUEST

    Marissa Meyer

    A Teaser from FAIREST

    Welcome to the twenty-second session of

     THE MODERN INK SOCIETY!

    at-vintage-typewrite


    “Don’t be afraid of being different,

    be afraid of being the same

    as everyone else.”

     — Unknown

     


     Introducing the lovely

    Marissa Meyer

    profile


    1402928540000-The-Fairest-cover-e1402943140653
     
    A Teaser from FAIREST

     

    SHE WAS LYING ON A BURNING PYRE, HOT COALS BENEATH 
    her back. White sparks floated in her vision but the mercy of 
    unconsciousness wouldn’t come. Her throat was hoarse from screaming. 
    The smell of her own burning flesh invaded her nostrils. Smoke stung her 
    eyes. Blisters burbled across her skin, and entire swaths of flesh peeled 
    away, revealing raw tissue underneath.
     The pain was relentless, the agony never ending. She pleaded 
    for death, but it never came. 
    She reached out with her good hand, trying to drag her body from 
    the fire, but the bed of coals crushed and col- lapsed under her weight, 
    burying her, dragging her deeper into the embers and the smoke. 
    Through the  haze  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  kind  eyes. A warm 
    smile. A finger curled toward her. Come here, baby sister . . .
     
    Levana gasped and jolted upward, limbs tangled in heavy  
    blankets. Her sheets were damp and cold from her sweat, but her 
    skin was still burning hot from the dream.
    Her throat felt scratched raw. She struggled to swallow, but her saliva 
    tasted like smoke and made her cringe. She sat in the faint morning 
    light shuddering, trying to will away the nightmare. The same 
    nightmare that had plagued her for too many years, that she could 
    never seem to escape.
     
    She rubbed her hands repeatedly over her arms and sides 
    until she was certain the fire wasn’t real. She was not burning alive. 
    She was safe and alone in her chambers. 
    With a trembling breath, she scooted to the other side of the mattress, 
    away from the sweat-stained sheets, and lay back down. Afraid to close 
    her eyes, she stared up at the can- opy and practiced her slow breathing 
    until her heartbeat steadied.
     
    She tried to distract herself by planning who she would be that day. 
    A thousand possibilities floated before her. She would be 
    beautiful, but there were many types of beauty. Skin tone, hair texture, 
    the shape of one’s eyes, the length of a neck, a well-placed freckle, a 
    certain grace in the way one walked.
     
    Levana knew a great deal about beauty, just as she knew a great 
    deal about ugliness.
     
    • 4  •
     
    Then she remembered that today was the funeral. 
    She groaned at the thought. How exhausting it would be to hold a  
    glamour all day long, in front of so many. She didn’t  
    want to go, but she would have no choice.
     
    It was an inconvenient day for her focus to be shaken by nightmares.  
    Perhaps it would be best to choose something familiar.  
    As the dream receded into her subconscious, Levana toyed  
    with the idea of being her mother that day. Not as Queen Jannali 
    had been when she died, but perhaps as a fifteen-year-old version of  
    her. It would be a sort of homage to attend the funeral wearing her  
    mother’s  cheekbones and the vivid violet eyes that everyone knew  
    were glamour- made, though no one would have dared say so aloud.
     
    She spent a few minutes imagining what her mother might  
    have looked like at her age, and she let the glamour settle over her.  
    Moon-blonde hair sleekly pulled into a low knot. Skin as pale as a  
    sheet of ice. A little shorter than she would become full grown. Pale  
    pink lips, so as not to detract from the vibrancy of those eyes.
     
    It calmed her, sinking into the glamour. But no sooner had she  
    tested the look than she felt the wrongness of it.  
    She did not want to go to her parents’ funeral in the garb of a girl-  
    now-dead.
     
    • 5  •
     
    A tap fluttered at the door, interrupting her thoughts.  
    Levana sighed, and quickly fell into another costume that she’d  
    dreamed up days before. Olive skin, a graceful  
    slope to her nose, and raven-black hair cut adorably short. She shifted  
    through a few eye colors before landing on a striking gray-blue,  
    topped off with smoldering black lashes.
     
    Before she could second-guess herself, she embedded a silver  
    jewel into the flesh beneath her right eye.  
    A teardrop. To prove that she was in mourning.  
    “Come in,” she called, opening her eyes.  
    A servant entered carrying a breakfast tray. The girl curtsied  
    in the doorway, not lifting her gaze from the floor— which rendered  
    Levana’s glamour unnecessary—before approaching the bed.
     
    “Good morning, Your Highness.”  
    Sitting up, Levana allowed the servant to set the tray across her  
    lap and tuck a cloth napkin around her. The ser- vant poured jasmine tea  
    into a hand-painted porcelain cup that had been imported from Earth  
    several generations ago, and garnished it with two small mint leaves and a 
    drizzle of honey. Levana said nothing as the servant uncovered a tray of  
    tiny cream-filled pastries, so that Levana could see what they looked like  
    whole, before using a silver knife to saw them into even tinier bite-  
    size pieces. While the servant worked, Levana eyed the dish of  
    bright-colored fruits: a
     
    • 6  •
     
    soft-fuzzed peach set into a halo of black and red berries, all dusted with  
    powdered sugar.  
    “Is there anything else I can bring for you, Your High-  
    ness?”  
    “No, that will be all. But send the other one up in twenty minutes to  
    prepare my mourning dress.”  
    “Of course, Your Highness,” she answered, although they both knew  
    there was no other one. Every servant in the pal- ace was the other one.  
    It didn’t matter to Levana who the girl sent up, so long as whoever it  
    was could properly stitch her into the sleek gray gown the seamstress  
    had delivered the day before. Levana didn’t want to bother with  
    glamouring her dress today in addition to her face, not with so  
    many other thoughts in her head.
     
    With another curtsy, the servant ducked out of the room, leaving  
    Levana to stare down at her breakfast tray. Only now did she realize  
    how very un-hungry she was. There was an ache in her stomach, perhaps  
    left over from the hor- rible dream. Or she supposed it could have been  
    sadness, but that was doubtful.
     
    She felt no great loss at the death of her parents, who had been  
    gone now for half the long day. Eight artificial nights. Their deaths  
    were terribly gory. They were assassi- nated by a shell who used his  
    invincibility against the Lunar gift to sneak into the palace. The man  
    had shot two royal
     
    • 7  •
     
    guards in the head before making his way to her parents’ bedroom on  
    the third floor, killing three more guards, and slitting her mother’s throat  
    so deeply the knife severed part of her spine. He had then gone down the  
    hallway to where her father was lying with one of his mistresses and  
    stabbed him sixteen times in the chest.
     
    The mistress was still screaming, blood spurts across her face,  
    when two royal guards found them.  
    The shell murderer was still stabbing.  
    Levana had not seen the bodies, but she had seen the bedrooms  
    the next morning, and her first thought was that all that blood  
    would make for a very pretty rouge on her lips.

     


    A huge thanks to Marissa for sharing some a teaser from Fairest! I’m hooked already!  If you’d like to learn more about Marissa Meyer and check out her books, you can go to her website, at www.marissameyer.com.

    Also, don’t forget to join Marissa and Colleen for a LIVE CHAT on GOODREADS on September 29th!

    CHBC September

     

    ~Till next time,

    Linda Louise

    This entry was posted in Events, Featuring Authors, The Modern Ink Society, Uncategorized.

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    Categories
    Archive
    Author Bio
    Linda

    I’m Linda Louise, one of the bloggers on this website and Colleen’s little sister. I’m just a girl in her mid-thirties who feels thirteen when I play outside with my boys, fifteen when I sing my heart out listening to tunes while driving by myself, and sixty five when I go out past ten at night. I have a thing for junior mints, Mt. Dew, shrimp and kale (though not all at once) and I have a crush on Superman. I still get girlish butterflies when I read Twilight, cry when I read These is My Words, and smile from ear to ear when I read Anne of Green Gables. I have nightmares about aliens on a regular basis and I have a bad habit of midnight snacking. I love everything sports, except golf (although can that honestly be considered a sport??), and I hate anything that slithers, hisses, or stings. I have a problem with giggling at inappropriate moments and I sometimes wish life was a musical. I love science, hate math, love Dr. Seuss, and hate olives. My family is my world and my joys come from their happiness. I’ve learned I don’t know much about anything and I live for a good adventure, naps, cuddles, stories, exceptional food and The Shire.