Blog tour (excerpt, Top Tens list, giveaway): One More Day Multi-Author Blog Tour
ONE MORE DAY
By L.S. Murphy, Erika BeeBe, Marissa Halvorson, Kimberly Kay,
J. Keller Ford, Danielle E. Shipley, and Anna Simpson
What if today never ends?
What if everything about life—everything anyone hoped to be, to do, to experience—never happens?
Whether sitting in a chair, driving down the road, in surgery, jumping off a cliff or flying ... that's where you’d be ... forever.
Unless ...
In One More Day, Erika Beebe, Marissa Halvorson, Kimberly Kay, J. Keller Ford, Danielle E. Shipley and Anna Simpson join L.S. Murphy to give us their twists, surprising us with answers to two big questions, all from the perspective of characters under the age of eighteen.
How do we restart time?
How do we make everything go back to normal?
The answers, in whatever the world—human, alien, medieval, fantasy or fairytale—could, maybe, happen today.
Right now.
What would you do if this happened ... to you?
from “The 13th Month” by L.S. Murphy coming soon in ONE MORE DAY!
December 31st, 2013 4:01pm
“Stop being a douche, Jackie. This end of the world crap is nothing but a load of … well, crap. Get over it.” I snatched our shared laptop from my little brother and closed the lid, not bothering to check out the site he’d become fixated on during the last hour. Jackie’s conspiracy theories were a constant pain in my ass.
“Give it back, Nixon.” He whined, reaching across my body as I shoved the ancient computer behind my back. “This one’s real. I’m telling you; it’s gonna to happen.”
“Just like you said Rapture was real, right? Or the Mayan prophecy of December twenty-first in two-thousand twelve?” I shoved his thirteen-year-old body away from me. “Guess what, dipshit? Twenty-twelve has come and gone with the world still spinning. Get outta here so I can chat with my girl.”
Jackie stood, brushing invisible dirt of his green plaid shorts. In a few years, he’d either be modeling or coming out of the closet. I swore my brother got all the looks in the family—Mom’s California blonde hair, Dad’s bright blue eyes, and at least two inches taller than I was.
Me? I inherited Dad’s brown hair that curled if it got too long and Mom’s brown eyes the color of dry dirt. In other words, boring.
“One of these days, you’ll believe me,” Jackie said, his voice deeper than normal. His eyes sparkled like ice held up to a light bulb. “The end is coming. Everything will stop. And there’s nothing you can do to prevent it.”
“Dude, did you forget your Zoloft, or something? What’s with the voice?” I fell onto my twin bed, wishing for the millionth time I had my own room. The computer lay across my thighs, warming the denim beneath it.
Flipping me the bird, Jackie left the room and slammed our door behind him, rattling the windows from the force. The little shit must’ve started lifting weights. I glanced over to his half of the room but saw no sign that my brother had suddenly decided to add to his martial arts workout. Instead, his side was spotless, with a perfectly made bed, organized desk, laid-out clothes, and his lined-up tae kwon do ribbons. Jackie switched disciplines when he was seven, while I stuck with karate. I would’ve quit, but girls thought it was sexy. Laura included.
My shit was less than perfect. A box shoved into the closet hid my wrinkled karate ribbons. Homework and textbooks littered my desk. Even our matching blue plaid comforters were opposites—mine faded and wrinkled, his smooth and bright like the day Mom bought it.
Shaking my head, I opened the laptop and typed in the password. Laura was far more important than worrying about what was up little bro’s butt. Especially since we had big plans that night. Her parents would be out ringing in twenty-fourteen at some hotel soiree, leaving the house to us. Alone. Six years of crushing on her and six months of dating her were leading to what I hoped would be the best night of my life.
Now, I’m not a doom and gloom, the-world-is-gonna-end-now kind of gal, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a plan. Or, at least the resemblance of a plan. Really it’s just an outline. Anyway, if the apocalypse happened tomorrow, which it could – I just don’t think it will, here’s a list of ten things I’d make sure I had handy.
1) Water. I would raid the nearest Sam’s Club and haul out all the bottled water I could shove into my Nissan Cube. The Cube’s surprisingly roomy, so I could get A LOT of water.
2) I’d hit up Sports Authority or REI or Dick’s Sporting Goods, and load up on water purifiers and filters. (See a theme here?)
3) Bow and Arrows. Katniss Everdeen I am not, but I can learn. Besides being able to protect myself, I’d be able to kill my own food. (Gross, I know, but a necessary evil.)
4) Bowie knife. Great for all kinds of things.
5) Matches. Yes, it’s important to have fire. Lighters would work, too, but I prefer matches. They last longer.
6) While raiding during #2, I’d grab a newer backpack. At one point, I’m sure I’d have to leave my house, so I’d need to carry as many necessities with me as possible. My current backpack is about ten years old and would work, but if I’m looting (and let’s face it, looting is acceptable during the apocalypse) I might as well go for the best
7) Good boots. Not steel-toes, although they’d be good in a fight, but a nice pair of hiking boots. I can’t expect to spend my days out in my basement, cowering under the steps. I’ll eventually need to venture out, and you never know how far you’re gonna have to walk.
8) Chocolate. Sounds impractical? Yep, but it’s lightweight and we all need a little chocolate.
9) My favorite book. This one’s hard, but books are heavy so I’d have to limit myself to one. After all, I’m fairly certain my kindle would die and there wouldn’t be any power to recharge it. Since this is so hard, it would be a last minute decision. I’d probably spend several years mourning the ones I lost.
10) Pencil and paper. Another impractical item, but someone has to document what’s going on.
Now you know my plan. Don’t steal it. J
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December 31st, 2013 4:01pm
“Stop being a douche, Jackie. This end of the world crap is nothing but a load of … well, crap. Get over it.” I snatched our shared laptop from my little brother and closed the lid, not bothering to check out the site he’d become fixated on during the last hour. Jackie’s conspiracy theories were a constant pain in my ass.
“Give it back, Nixon.” He whined, reaching across my body as I shoved the ancient computer behind my back. “This one’s real. I’m telling you; it’s gonna to happen.”
“Just like you said Rapture was real, right? Or the Mayan prophecy of December twenty-first in two-thousand twelve?” I shoved his thirteen-year-old body away from me. “Guess what, dipshit? Twenty-twelve has come and gone with the world still spinning. Get outta here so I can chat with my girl.”
Jackie stood, brushing invisible dirt of his green plaid shorts. In a few years, he’d either be modeling or coming out of the closet. I swore my brother got all the looks in the family—Mom’s California blonde hair, Dad’s bright blue eyes, and at least two inches taller than I was.
Me? I inherited Dad’s brown hair that curled if it got too long and Mom’s brown eyes the color of dry dirt. In other words, boring.
“One of these days, you’ll believe me,” Jackie said, his voice deeper than normal. His eyes sparkled like ice held up to a light bulb. “The end is coming. Everything will stop. And there’s nothing you can do to prevent it.”
“Dude, did you forget your Zoloft, or something? What’s with the voice?” I fell onto my twin bed, wishing for the millionth time I had my own room. The computer lay across my thighs, warming the denim beneath it.
Flipping me the bird, Jackie left the room and slammed our door behind him, rattling the windows from the force. The little shit must’ve started lifting weights. I glanced over to his half of the room but saw no sign that my brother had suddenly decided to add to his martial arts workout. Instead, his side was spotless, with a perfectly made bed, organized desk, laid-out clothes, and his lined-up tae kwon do ribbons. Jackie switched disciplines when he was seven, while I stuck with karate. I would’ve quit, but girls thought it was sexy. Laura included.
My shit was less than perfect. A box shoved into the closet hid my wrinkled karate ribbons. Homework and textbooks littered my desk. Even our matching blue plaid comforters were opposites—mine faded and wrinkled, his smooth and bright like the day Mom bought it.
Shaking my head, I opened the laptop and typed in the password. Laura was far more important than worrying about what was up little bro’s butt. Especially since we had big plans that night. Her parents would be out ringing in twenty-fourteen at some hotel soiree, leaving the house to us. Alone. Six years of crushing on her and six months of dating her were leading to what I hoped would be the best night of my life.
Top Ten Things to Survive the Apocalypse
Now, I’m not a doom and gloom, the-world-is-gonna-end-now kind of gal, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a plan. Or, at least the resemblance of a plan. Really it’s just an outline. Anyway, if the apocalypse happened tomorrow, which it could – I just don’t think it will, here’s a list of ten things I’d make sure I had handy.
1) Water. I would raid the nearest Sam’s Club and haul out all the bottled water I could shove into my Nissan Cube. The Cube’s surprisingly roomy, so I could get A LOT of water.
2) I’d hit up Sports Authority or REI or Dick’s Sporting Goods, and load up on water purifiers and filters. (See a theme here?)
3) Bow and Arrows. Katniss Everdeen I am not, but I can learn. Besides being able to protect myself, I’d be able to kill my own food. (Gross, I know, but a necessary evil.)
4) Bowie knife. Great for all kinds of things.
5) Matches. Yes, it’s important to have fire. Lighters would work, too, but I prefer matches. They last longer.
6) While raiding during #2, I’d grab a newer backpack. At one point, I’m sure I’d have to leave my house, so I’d need to carry as many necessities with me as possible. My current backpack is about ten years old and would work, but if I’m looting (and let’s face it, looting is acceptable during the apocalypse) I might as well go for the best
7) Good boots. Not steel-toes, although they’d be good in a fight, but a nice pair of hiking boots. I can’t expect to spend my days out in my basement, cowering under the steps. I’ll eventually need to venture out, and you never know how far you’re gonna have to walk.
8) Chocolate. Sounds impractical? Yep, but it’s lightweight and we all need a little chocolate.
9) My favorite book. This one’s hard, but books are heavy so I’d have to limit myself to one. After all, I’m fairly certain my kindle would die and there wouldn’t be any power to recharge it. Since this is so hard, it would be a last minute decision. I’d probably spend several years mourning the ones I lost.
10) Pencil and paper. Another impractical item, but someone has to document what’s going on.
Now you know my plan. Don’t steal it. J
About L.S. Murphy:
L.S. Murphy lives in the Greater St. Louis area where she watches Cardinals baseball, reads every book she can find, and weaves tales for teens and adults. When not doing all of the above, she tends to The Bean (aka her daughter), her husband and a menagerie of pets. She is the author of romance novellas A Reason to Stay and Neighbors. Her debut novel Reaper, a YA paranormal romance, is now available.
She is a member of Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI) and the St. Louis Writer’s Guild.
Love this post L.S. Murphy. And I love that you want to document the world too. :o)
ReplyDeleteThanks, Erika. And thanks for having us, Laurie. :)
ReplyDelete