Saturday, December 17, 2011

Callum and Harper Blog Tour!


Hello All!

Welcome to the second blog tour stop (of three) this month! To say that we're really excited to be a stop on the Callum and Harper (written by the WONDERFULLY AWESOME author, Fisher Amelie) blog tour is a HUGE understatement! We both LOVE Fisher, and not just as an author, but as a human being and friend as well! Up first is our Q&A with her, where she spills some tea (details) about some of her deepest darkest secrets...read on if you want to know more ;)


1. If you had a choice, what holiday would you have everyone celebrate all year long?

Oh my gosh! This is a great question. Ummmm...Christmas? Winter is my favorite season. Although I love the cold, I believe it's mostly because I love the night and winter has the longest nights. Plus, Christmas time seems to invoke a sense of elevated happiness.

But people become easily jaded. So, although I said I'd love to celebrate Christmas all year round in theory, in practice, it doesn't seem like it'd be all that fun. Everything in moderation. Except alcohol. That can flow freely with absolutely no regrets. Just kidding. Or am I? I am. Kind of.

2. What is your Zodiac sign and does it describe you to a tee?

I don't know much about astrology but I do, at least, know that I'm a Libra.

And since I'm completely clueless as far as this stuff goes, I've pulled up my horoscope for today:

You're going to feel deeply connected with your life today. The atmosphere is clear, letting you see all the progress you've made toward your goals. You'll feel great satisfaction, as you always do when you can clearly see the meaning in your life. Take today to rest on your laurels. Also realize that some things still need to be done.

Deep. Yet practical. And, yes, you read correctly, they did use the word 'laurels'. Awesome.

3. Do you believe in ghosts?

I don't believe in ghosts. I do believe in zombies though. I've seen a few infected. They were in most of my morning university classes.

4. Do you like your man in boxers or briefs?

Boxers. Briefs remind me of old men who think it's okay to mow their lawn while wearing Hawaiian shorts and black dress socks with Roman sandals but no shirt. Or the kind of guy who thinks that because they are 'hidden' inside their car, you can't spot them picking their nose. Briefs men are all around bad decision makers. Don't look at me like that. It's fact. *wink, wink* Disclaimer: This does not apply to Boxer-Brief men.

5. What drives you to write?

IDEAS! Grrrrr. Ideas run through my mind at a million miles an hour, begging to be placed on their metaphorical paper and boy do I love to give them their wish. And these ideas, when written, give me a high like nothing else in this entire world. Transcendence is easy when you write your ideas, your stories, your thoughts, your passions. Letting them spill out of your fingers is the ultimate gratification. You should totally try it.

6. If you had a choice, where in the world would you live?

Oh man, anywhere? Absolutely anywhere? Does it have to be constant? Can I say nomad? I want to call Nomadland home. Summers in Costa Rica, Winters in Switzerland, Springs in Paris, Falls in Roma! And the next year? Wherever the wind blows me! Adventure, ladies and gentleman, is the ultimate home!

7. Do you believe in love at first sight?

Despite what my work may suggest, I don't, but hear me out. I don't believe you can love someone immediately because love is gradual, as it should be, but I do believe that you can instantly know if someone is going to be important to you or not, if they are going to be a permanent fixture and if they have the ability to turn your stomach upside down, your mind in circles, your heart into a trip-hammer. I believe in fated connections.

8. Do you like a sunny day or a rainy day the best?

Rainy, baby. I love cozy and that's what the rain does for me. It's like nature is giving me a natural cocoon. As a writer, I love to feel huddled within myself. It's the best feeling in the world. 

9. What is your favorite movie of all time?

Of all time??? That is so difficult! Hmm. Okay, okay. Edward Scissorhands. It's the music. Danny Elfman is a freaking genius! Groundhog Day comes in at a close second though. I'd marry Bill Murray.

10. Are you an introvert or an extrovert?

I am a strange combination of both. When absolutely needed, I can immerse myself into a group of people, be polite, somewhat charming, eloquent (sometimes) and all around involved but afterwards, if I don't have a serious 'alone spell', I am seriously messed up. I really love being by myself. LOL! Is that odd? I suppose it is. Funnily enough though, if I'm alone too long then I crave a group setting. I am an emotional catapult.

11. How would you describe yourself?

I prefer to be quiet. I love to watch others and take in behaviors and surroundings. I love painting the living life around me with my eyes, brushing the environment around me and committing it to memory. I love to observe. Love it. I also live passionately. I live my life at full force. If you're not giving at capacity then what's the point, right?

12. If you could live in any period in time, which would you pick?

I believe I'd love to live in the Victorian era. Besides The Gothic Revival architecture, it's the clothing! Gah! So freaking beautiful! Especially the men's clothing! It just fit them so well, don't you think? And the hats! Ugh! I want a Victorian gentleman. I might even have dared to hold hands with one without gloves! *Places hand over mouth* Scandalous!

13. What is the most embarrassing thing you have ever done?

Oh my Lord! When I was in junior high, I went to gym and dressed out. I wore Betty Boop underwear that day (This becomes important later...obviously) and draw string sweats.

Anyway, Coach Mason decided it was co-ed day. Yup.

So, relay races was the featured torture activity of the day. We would split into five different groups, even boys to girls, and each team would spread out along the football field, a person to stand on each yard line. The object of the relay was to throw a football from the front of the line all the way to the end person and the end person would run the length of the line of their team then repeat the process until the entire team made it to the opposite end zone. The first team to make it all the way across wins.

Alright, so it's my turn. My legs are burning to impress because my crush is standing right beside me on an opposing team. Yes! Here's the ball. Alright, caught the ball without dropping, already ahead of the game, I think. I run, seriously impressing the crush, and I run, and I feel something breezy on my legs. I look down. Oh, well isn't that lovely. My pants have dropped to my ankles and, of course, I'm tripping on the excess pant at my feet. Of course I land face first with my Betty Boop clad bum in the air and of course my crush gets a front row seat.

He called me Betty for years. Don't worry, I lost the crush on him that day.

14. Do you get nervous before you release a new book?

I really, really do. Ulcer type nervous. Eek!

15. Are you mostly an optimist or a pessimist?

I'm a 'glass is half full' kind of gal. I know, for someone who likes the night, winter and rain, you wouldn't think it but I am.

16. Do you think before you buy something or are you a compulsive shopper?

I compulsively pick it up, place it in cart, drive it around the store, talk myself out of it, and put it back.

17. Did you enjoy school? What was your favorite subject?

I loved school. My favorite subject was probably history....that, and orchestra. I've played the violin poorly for years.

18. What inspired you to write Callum & Harper?

When the hubs and I tied the knot, we searched the city in hopes of finding something affordable yet beautiful. Not an easy feat, right? Exactly. We booked the YWCA. I know, I know. Super romantic, right? But give me a chance. The YWCA near my town is this old brick building built in the eighteen hundreds. It's got these fantastic plaster ceilings and old, dark wood floors. It is incredible. It is also affordable.

So, we booked it but you won't believe the back story behind the reception hall.

I'll give you a little knowledge, folks. Did you know, that in most states in America, when kids are shuffled through the state foster system, if their foster parents don't decide to keep them on out of the kindness of their hearts, they're turned out into the streets the second they turn eighteen with nothing but a hundred dollar check? 

Yeah, that's what I said! The lady at my reception hall told the hubs and I this story and I was balling half way through. 

So, where do these kids go? I don't know about you but when I was eighteen I was definitely not ready for the real world and the YWCA agreed. That's why the top two floors of the building my reception was at are apartments for orphans who are turned out at eighteen. They pay their way for them, find them jobs, set them up for the real world, so to speak. 

And all the proceeds from the reception hall is what gives them this second chance. Let me tell you, I couldn't sign on the dotted line fast enough. And all the orphans had to do to earn their way, was clean up the reception hall every Friday and Saturday night. I met a few of these kids and I have to say, their stories shattered my heart in heavy, splintered pieces right at their feet.

Afterwards, I thought of the experience of having to endure what they'd endured and the story rolled off my tongue in less than five minutes. The hubs thought it was , and I quote, "the best idea you've ever had" which I didn't know whether to take as a compliment or not but ultimately decided to take it as a positive thing. *wink, wink* (I tell you, writers are a cynical lot.)

Thank you, C.A.!!!! So honored to have been here!!!!

Up next is a book description and excerpt to get you all waiting with bated breath to get your hands on this baby (which comes out on Dec. 24th, 2011 at Amazon and Barnes and Noble.com):

(Ooooooooohhhh, how PRETTY is this cover?!?!)

Goodreads Description:

Life sucks for orphans Callum Tate and Harper Bailey.

Kicked out of their foster homes because they suffer the 'eighteen disease' with nothing but a hundred dollar check from the government and a pat on the back, they're forced to rely on a system that failed them miserably.

So they sit. They sit inside Social Services, waiting for their social workers to call their names and offer them the miracle they know will never come but they sit anyway because they have nowhere else to go, no other options on their very literal and figurative empty plates.

But as they sit, they notice the other. Although captivated, they each come to the conclusion that life is complicated enough without throwing in a boiling tension that can't ever be acted upon because they're both too busy thinking about where their next meal will come from but when their names are called and both are placed on a year long waiting list for permanent housing, suddenly relying on each other seems like a very viable plan B.

And, oh, how lovely Plan B's can be.

Well, except for the psycho from Harper's past that haunts her and, oh, yeah, there's the little issue that neither of them knows they're in love with the other.

Needless to say, Callum & Harper's life just got a bit more complicated.

“One day, you and I are gonna’ wake up and be alright. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but one day. One day. I promise you.” - Callum Tate

Excerpt: 

            Oh dear Lord, we’re leaving at the same time. If she hadn’t stopped attempting to hide her smile, I would’ve been forced to reveal my plans to toss the stranger outside against the brick and kiss her face until the sun set.
She passed ahead of me and I caught a whiff of her shampoo, involuntarily sending my eyes into the back of my head. This chick was a walking version of the Pixie’s “Where Is My Mind?”. Sexy. As. Hell. Though, now that I think about it. Is hell sexy? I’m guessing not. I continued to watch. Her hips could have kept time with the damn beat.
“Here, let me get that for you,” I said, throwing open the door. The sun cascaded down her copper hair and made her eyes feel transparent.
“Thank you,” she shyly said but offered up a cute lopsided grin as if to say ‘good boy’. Thanks for the bone, buttercup.
She took the wrought iron steps down to the sidewalk two at a time, which told me she was in a hurry and since it was nearly sunset, I was willing to bet that she and I were heading in the same direction. I scrambled at what to say while her feet scurried along the pavement.
Say something! “Where you headed?” Clever.
She stopped and turned.
“Uh,” she said, seeming embarrassed. She thought twice for a moment before stiffening her body and raising her chin. “I’m headed to..” Confusion set in. She glanced down at the same piece of paper I, as fate would have it, held in my own hand. “Hope House, on One Hundred and Second,” she finished.
“What a coincidence,” I teased with a slight grin.
“You too?” She asked, one eyebrow raised. Cynical, a product of the system.
“Yup, what can I say? Looks like we share the same amount of luck.”
“Which would be?” She asked.
“Nil, if you’re going to Hope House.”
She laughed at our dire situations which was pretty much all you could do.
        “Want a ride?” I asked. She didn’t answer me, obviously not willing to trust me, so I offered, “Listen, by the time you walk there they’ll be closed and definitely won’t have any spaces open. If you ride with me, at least we have a chance of getting a spot for the night.”
        She sighed. “A valid point,” she said, looking around for my car.
        I’m embarrassed by this. “Uh, “ I said, scratching the stubble on my chin with the backs of my fingers. “I don’t actually own a car.” I point to my vintage nineteen-fifty Indian motorcycle. “Come on. It’s better than walking, right?” I stuck my hands out in offering.
        She smiled slowly in appreciation, her mouth curling up at the sides and her eyes squinting into the sun. Her head bobbed slowly up and down on her neck. A silent yes. “I’d probably pick this over any car on this street.” She stood back and admired it. “Solid black,” she said. I nodded, intrigued. “Nice,” she simply added.
        “You think so? I plan on fixing her up when I get the time and, of course, the money. She’s been good to me, though,” I said, patting the handlebars. “She’s pretty much all I have in this world.” Harper looked at me as if in pity or maybe it was understanding. I really hoped it was understanding because if a girl that beautiful pitied me, I didn’t think I could stand it. “Hop on,” I said. She straddled the back of the leather seat and slid her duffel across her chest to sit behind her. “Uh, you might want to, uh,” I said awkwardly, struggling with how to ask her to push her hair back so I could fit my helmet on her.
Instead, I set the helmet on the seat between her legs and brazenly ran my fingers through her hair. It flowed off her shoulders and settled onto her back. The scent of her shampoo bombarded me one more time and I swayed slightly at the assault but regained my stance. I grabbed the helmet off her lap and fit it onto her head. She giggled at the awkward familiarity of it.
“Sorry,” I said. “But I wouldn’t dream of putting you on the back of my bike without this.”
“It’s alright,” she said, but paused. “Why? Are you an unsafe driver?”
        "No, uh, my parents died in a car accident when I was four,” I said matter-of-factly.
        "Oh, I'm so sorry.” She had the decency to look sincere. That was pretty refreshing, actually.
        "It's alright," I sighed, shrugging my shoulders. "I barely remember them."
        "I don't know anything about mine," she said, studying her feet, then realized what she was doing. "Harper Bailey," she said cheerfully, holding out her hand, revealing a dimpled grin.
        I  buckled the clasp around her delicate chin, resting my hands on the top of the helmet playfully. "My name is Callum Tate and I’m going to take care of you, Harper Bailey."
        Her extended hand dropped into her lap. Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. "Wh...what did you say?"
        Shit. Was that was too forward? "I'm sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “I'm Callum Tate. It's a pleasure to meet you, Harper Bailey." I grabbed her thin hand and a shot of warmth crept up my veins and shocked my heart into a frenzy.
        The smile that had so quickly faded before came back with a vengeance. She squeezed my hand in greeting and whispered, "It's very nice to meet you, Callum."
        I climbed on to the front part of the seat and started the engine. Harper settled her hands on the side of my ribs and I couldn't think of anything I wanted more than her arms wound tight against my chest. Suddenly, I couldn't get on the road fast enough.


Thank you so much Fisher for stopping by today, and if you guys want to find out more about this wonderful author or her work, please follow these links:

Fisher's Facebook page
Fisher's Twitter page
Fisher's Blog 
Fisher's Goodreads Page
Fisher's Amazon Page
Fisher's Barnes&Noble.com Page
Watch her Book Trailers here




Oh, and Fisher is running a contest for the length of her book tour! To win a signed copy of Callum & Harper just click here 

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