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ABOUT ANNE FRASIER
Anne Frasier (a.k.a. Theresa Weir) is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling and award-winning author of thirty books. Her memoir, The Orchard, was an Oprah Magazine Fall Pick, Number Two on the October Indie Next List, a B+ featured title in Entertainment Weekly, a One Book One Community Read, Target Book Club Pick, and Books-A-Million Book Club Pick.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
I'm doing it! First time ever, but this November I'm joining the writing frenzy known as National Novel Writing Month. That time in November when crazy writers try to write 50,000 words in a single month. I'm starting off at a disadvantage because I have book events through November 7. So I'm not sure what I'll accomplish, but I think it will still be a good catalyst for my Play Dead sequel, which is due to the publisher on September 1, 2013. Which means it won't hit shelves until 2014. Just in case anybody is keeping track.
If you are doing nanowrimo and want to look me up, my URL is:
I've done some one-day group writing events with other writers, and I've learned that the group thing works. It's fun. Not sure about the VIRTUAL group thing, but I'm going to give it a go. The old NaNo try.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
In the mood for something lighter? Some readers have described this quirky story as part mystery, part romance. And many have said it's kind of a melding of Anne Frasier and Theresa Weir. The Girl with the Cat Tattoo was a Dear Author Recommended Read, and was also certified Wonktastical!
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Monday, October 1, 2012
I'm going to post the opening page here. This is the second book in the Cool Cat trilogy, and I think this might be the most fun of the three plots. Working title: The Geek with the Cat Tattoo. (Thanks to L.K. Rigel for that suggestion!)
This book stars the brother of Max from The Girl with the Cat Tattoo, and this cat is the most talented (magical?) of the three siblings.
I'm on my fourth owner and he's giving me a look I've become familiar with over the years. That look of suspicion. That look that says he knows. Or at least he thinks he knows.
He's going to ditch me. He's already contemplating the how and where. Take me to a shelter? Been there, done that, have the T-shirt. Or pack me in a box, drive fifty miles from Minneapolis, and dump me on some country road? Neither of those choices scare me, I try to tell myself. Living in the country. That might be nice, right? A lot of field mice to eat. A big sky.
Oh, my God. What am I saying? I'm a city cat through and through. I couldn't survive out there. I'm already imagining myself falling in with a bunch of feral cats who have rotten teeth and mange. Egads!
"What the hell are you?" asks my fourth owner. He's standing in the kitchen looking down at me, and the terror in his eyes has turned into something that scares me more than the possibility of life in the country with a pack of inbreds.