The Underdogs was inspired by my time building a tech startup during the
golden era of San Francisco, when Uber and Lyft were just getting started
and battling it out. It’s a coming-of-age, immigrant story following a
set of characters who are all trying to create a better future for
themselves, for society, and escape their pasts.
Readers have shared that this story reminds them of The Prestige. Two
geniuses, who came from nothing, competing against each other in a market
that preys upon those who also come from nothing. Others have reflected on
the story as a cautionary tale that stands the test of time — How
“the few, the chosen” may end up taking advantage of the very
same people who they grew up with.
Ron’s journey is met with life-affirming friendships and lessons along the way.
Exiles
Reflections of Michael Trilogy Book 3
by L.J. Ambrosio
Genre: Contemporary Fiction, Coming of Age
In this final book in the Reflections of Michael Trilogy, Michael’s wish was for Ron to exile himself in the heart of Paris with its beautiful culture and citizens as they protest and fight for the soul of the city. Ron’s journey is met with life-affirming friendships and lessons along the way.
A story that began with A Reservoir Man, and continued in Reflections on the Boulevard, concludes with this final book, Exiles.
What readers are saying:
“Each character Ron meets during his personal journey is unique, and they all feel like real people, something Ambrosio has proven time and again is a strength of his. If you enjoy literary fiction with an epic personal journey woven through the pages, then you need to read this trilogy.” – Amazon Review
“This book, like the ones before it, evokes a range of emotions—laughter, fear, excitement, wonder, and grief. Ambrosio’s ability to weave these feelings into the narrative is what makes the trilogy so special.” – Amazon Review
“Exiles is a brilliant book that will leave you spellbound with its emotional payoff. Author Ambrosio’s finale to the Reflections of Michael Trilogy is a must-read for anyone who appreciates literary fiction that speaks to the soul.” – Goodreads Review
Louis J. Ambrosio ran one of the most nurturing bi-coastal talent agencies in Los Angeles and New York. He started his career as a theatrical producer, running two major regional theaters for eight seasons. Ambrosio taught at 7 Universities. Ambrosio also distinguished himself as an award-winning film producer and novelist over the course of his impressive career.
For Lainie, feeling unwelcome is only the beginning of her struggles. Her mom is addicted to painkillers, her stepfather is a felon, and her dad traded her in for a new family.
So what if she’s kicked out of high school? Determined and attractive, Lainie sets out to make her own path.
Shane, the young man she begins dating and believes is trustworthy, transforms into a possessive and cruel boyfriend. When Efren, Shane’s older cousin, enters her life, Lainie grasps onto a shred of hope, falling in love. Shane’s obsessive and abusive treatment of her, however, casts a deep shadow over Efren and Lainie’s chance to find safety and a future free of the fear of Shane’s sadistic retribution.
Will their love persevere, or will Shane’s pervasive and negative influence push Lainie and Efren apart, forcing them to love secretly?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
EXCERPT
This was the one place Shane didn’t go, the one location I felt safe, thanks to the security.
I was returning to my car when I noticed Ray standing next to it.
“Lainie, what’re you doing here so late?” he asked.
I’d forgotten that he’d been staying here until his Malinois bitch, Gemma, whelped.
The weight of what had just happened emptied me. The adrenaline rush left me and I wanted to bury my head in a pillow and cry. But I couldn’t. I closed my eyes and leaned my back against the car for support.
“Shane?” he asked.
“Who else?” I said.
He put an arm around my shoulder. We headed to the office. I appreciated the strength and protective feeling of his gesture and wanted to break down right there and cry, tell him everything, but I held back.
I perched on the arm of the couch while he made tea. I wanted to tell Ray what Shane had done, but I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t trust anyone with that knowledge. If I told anyone, they would think I was weak, incapable of defending myself, and then unfriend me or pity me. I had to hang onto what was good in my life and not ruin it with something so shameful.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
INTEREVIEW WITH ANN CHIAPPETTA
Often writers started out as readers. Was there a particular book that inspired you to be an author?
James Herriot is one of the most influential writers for me. I began reading his stories at age fourteen . I still read his work periodically. His work resonates with me. I am challenged by writing first-person narratives and his writing transcends my subjectivity towards a first person POV and narrative. His descriptions of a story’s location is well crafted and his descriptions of the people and animals is spot-on. He balances his work, showing as much about the people as the animal characters and through this layered balance, I find it profoundly impactful as the reader. I only hope to be as powerful a writer one day. I think this is also why I include animal characters in my work as often as possible. I find it adds a level of connection with readers.
Did anyone give you writing advice when you were first getting started? Do you think it helped?
I am receptive to constructive advice and suggestions, it is the path to growing as a writer and poet. My Mom was my biggest fan. She insisted my writing was good and always wanted me to get published. I found advice shared by writers like Michael Crighton and other well-known authors helpful. I also listen to the lesser-known authors and poets. There is plenty of advice floating around. I stick with what I know, check the facts, read more than I write, read genres I also write as well as read genres I don’t write. I view advice as feedback, only I can determine whether or not the feedback is going to benefit my work. Of course exceptions are made when collaborating with other writers and professional editors. There are also hard stops like when formatting and grammar rules are taken into consideration.
What is the scariest thing you face as a writer? How do you handle it?
For me the scariest thing would be running out of ideas to write. Fortunately, my imagination is prolific and ideas plop into my brain fairly often. I list ideas for stories and poems in a document on my computer. Most of them are in my head, though. I also think about not having enough time to write everything I do want to write.
What inspired the idea for your book?
The story idea developed from writing a memoir. The obsessive boyfriend was a real experience and I ran with it. The draft sat in the closet for years, mostly finished. After I published my first novel, Hope For the Tarnished, it felt right to pull it out and finish it.
If you could meet your characters, what would you say to them?
Great question! I’d tell Lainie trauma made her resilient. I’d tell Effren to get a puppy to practice parenting. I’d tell Lainie’s best friend, Jo to have fun at her Cinderella splendorific wedding. I’d tell Shane he wasted his life doing drugs and being hateful. I’d let them all know how each of them was a key to making the story believable and meaningful to me and the others who will or have read it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ann Chiappetta, M.S. Poet and author
Ann’s award-winning poems, creative nonfiction, and essays have appeared internationally in literary journals, popular online blogs, and print anthologies. Her poems have been featured in The Avocet, the Pangolin Review, Plum Tree Tavern, Magnets and Ladders, Oprelle, Western PA Poetry Review 2024and Breath and Shadow. Ann’s short story, The Misty Torrent appeared in the Artificial Divide anthology published by Renaissance Press (2021).
Ann is the recipient of the 2019 GDUI Excellence in Writing award and the WDOMI 2016 Spirit of Independence award.
Independently published since 2016, the author’s seven volume collection includes poetry, creative nonfiction essays, short stories and contemporary fiction.
Diagnosed in 1993 with a rare form of progressive retinal disease, Ann accepts vision loss as part of her life but doesn’t let it define her as a whole person.
The author resides in western Pennsylvania with her husband, retired guide dog pet dog and cats, striving to develop a mutually-beneficial relationship with her assistive technology.
Award-winning middle-grade novel from the author ofJust Add Magic andSaltwater Secrets. . . .
In this hourly time-stamped, action-packed tween comedy of errors, Abby Gray, feeling weighed down by her secrets and lies, lets five balloons float into the sky with her deepest secrets attached to them in a desperate attempt to clear her conscience. Her relief is short-lived, though: the next day, those balloons start dropping one by one at her school, revealing Abby’s innermost thoughts to both friends and frenemies and creating hilarious misinterpretations of crushes amongst her peers.
This is the worst day of her life . . . or is it? Before the last bell rings, Abby manages to integrate the oddball who is blackmailing her into her friend group and to fix the mix-ups the notes have caused—not only getting couples back together but also making a few new love matches—and finally comes clean as the author of the notes that have created such chaos.
The temperature dove below zero and snow flurries whirled, but my mom braved the cold and helped me haul boxes of decorations into school.
“Thanks,” I said as she dropped a bag from the Donut Hole into the last box for me to manage on my own. The Hole was right next to the school and, like most kids, we often stopped and grabbed breakfast on our way to school.
My math teacher, Mr. Valdez, pulled his pickup truck into the parking lot. Mom waved and flashed him her signature smile, which she always has even when she’s tired from working late into the night.
She kissed her hand and touched my cheek with it. As she left, she called to Mr. Valdez, “Have a nice day.”
He waved to her with his free hand while the other fiddled with his car’s antenna.
“What’s that?” I called to him.
“Oh, nothing.” He put something in his pocket, walked over to me, and put a red ribbon into my box. “Here, I think maybe you or someone dropped this.”
“Uh, thanks,” I said, but I hadn’t been near his car, so I don’t see how I could’ve dropped it there. Maybe a stray piece of ribbon blew over.
“Go on inside before you freeze,” he said, his eyes following my mom’s car as it pulled out.
It was impossible not to notice the school office since it was overflowing with balloons. A delivery guy walked in behind me with another bunch.
“I’ll take those,” I offered, and towed a bunch of balloons to the gym along with my box. It was going to take a lot of trips to transport the rest of the delivery from the office.
Jess and Paige had started early and already striped one entire wall with red and white streamers. It looked great, like peppermint sticks, except they’d made ten stripes, while peppermint sticks had eleven, my favorite of all the prime numbers. I figured I’d add one more stripe later when no one was around. There was no need to be inaccurate.
Paige beamed at the balloons. “Yay! They’re here.” She looked behind me and the smile drained from her face. “Where’s the guy?”
“What guy?” I asked.
“Didn’t the party store send a balloon-arch-maker guy?”
“No guy,” I said.
Logan Murphy swaggered in behind me. “I’m a guy.” This was the understatement of the trimester. Logan wasn’t just any guy. He was Mount Lebanon Middle School’s “It Guy.” Logan worked in the school office on his free periods, like now, which gave him access to hall passes, which was a big deal. At The Mount, hall passes were gold.
“Hi Abby,” he said to me without a hint of flirtation, yet I felt my cheeks blush.
All the girls at The Mount liked Logan. So far, he hadn’t asked anyone to the dance, and lots of girls were holding out in hopes he’d ask them.
“How’s it going?” I asked.
Before he could answer, Jess said, “Well, that’s not gonna work. Logan can’t build a balloon arch. He couldn’t even build an Egyptian pyramid out of Legos in Social Studies.”
Logan said, “Legos are rectangles and pyramids are triangles, so it’s not as easy as it sounds.”
As if Jess hadn’t heard his defense, she said to me and Paige, “Look, he might have an awesome smile and be captain of the basketball team, but he is NOT a balloon arch builder. We need a professional.” Then, she added, “Just sayin’.”
Logan didn’t seem offended. “You don’t have to apologize for thinking I have an awesome smile. People tell me that a lot.” He showed off the famous grin. Geez, he was cute.
“Okay,” Paige said. “Slight problem with the crème de la crème of our decorations. And as chairwoman, I have a solution. We’re going to make this arch ourselves with directions I’m going to download and print right now.”
Nothing would stand in Paige Bakenya’s way of transforming this gym into a Peppermint Twist Dance Wonderland.
“Okay committee, stripe the next wall. I’ll be back before you can say ‘peppermint.’” With that, she took the one coveted hall pass Mr. Valdez had given us for the day.
“I’ll let you girls handle this stripe business,” Logan said, “and I’ll get more balloons from the office.”
“Paige just took the hall pass,” Jess said.
He chuckled. “Dude, it’s me. I navigate these halls like a stealth weapon.” On his way out, he was decked by Chloe, who entered the gym dancing and singing.
“What the heck?” Logan asked, picking himself up and wiping gym floor dust off his basketball shorts—yeah, he wore shorts all winter.
Chloe ignored him. “He likes me!” she said and twirled.
“Uh, yeah, so I’m outta here.” Logan left the gym.
“Who?” Jess and I asked.
Chloe said, “Tao.”
WTW? Paige’s Tao?
This was shocking. So shocking that I couldn’t get words out to ask for clarification.
Chloe continued pirouetting, as if she were in a magical love trance. “I love love. Don’t you?”
Luckily, Paige wasn’t around to hear this because she would’ve choked on her Peppermint Twist planner at the idea that her boyfriend, who she’d recently kissed for the first time, liked Chloe. This was so Chloe to stir up drama.
Jess asked, “What are you talking about?”
“You heard me right. Sorry for your friend Paige—actually, sorry, I’m not sorry—but here’s the harsh reality, Jessica Sawyer: Tao likes me.”
Lots of girls were jealous of Paige. She was pretty, friendly to new kids, handed in assignments early, and had the best-decorated locker. She always shared her homemade cookies with everyone, and somehow they always seemed just out of the oven, even when it was late in the day. It was a mystery no one’s ever been able to solve.
“Everyone knows Tao and Paige are boyfriend and girlfriend,” Jess said. “Where did you even get this idea? I’m just sayin’, the idea is ridiculous.” Sometimes Jess not having a filter was good because it got her point out in the open rather than beating around the bush.
“Ridiculous, you say? Then why did he give me this?” Chloe held up a paper that Jess snatched and read to herself. When she was done, she handed it to me. But I didn’t have to read it.
I already knew what it said, because Tao hadn’t written it.
I had.
The Girl Who Ruined Christmas
by Cindy Callaghan
Award-winning middle-grade Christmas novel from the author ofJust Add Magic andSaltwater Secrets. . . .
Imagine you’re a tween visiting a small town that loves nothing more than its prize fir—a perfect Christmas tree destined for the White House. Now picture yourself accidentally destroying that tree, making you public enemy number one. Lastly, imagine that to repay your debt, you have to remain in said town for the Christmas season.
That’s what happens to Brady Bancroft.
When Brady ruins Harper Hollow Fall’s prize tree, she’s sentenced to stay in the holiday-festooned town for the month of December. At first, she couldn’t be more depressed about the whole situation; but during her month there, she is surprised to discover that there’s much more than pine needles to the little town holding her captive. In the end, Harper Hollow Falls reminds Brady of the true meaning of Christmas—and she, in turn, saves the town.
Cindy Callaghan is the award-winning author of eleven MG novels including JUST ADD MAGIC and JUST ADD MAGIC 2: POTION PROBLEMS, which were made into an Emmy-nominated Amazon Original series now in its fifth season and distributed world-wide via Nickelodeon. She’s well-known for the best-selling Lost In… books: LOST IN LONDON, LOST IN PARIS, LOST IN ROME, LOST IN HOLLYWOOD, and LOST IN IRELAND. Her Agatha award-winning stand-alone SYDNEY MACKENZIE KNOCKS ‘EM DEAD sells out every year around Halloween.
Her 2020 book SALTWATER SECRETS, which is nominated for an Agatha Award, won Delaware Press Association and National Federation of Press Women’s awards, and two International Book Awards, is set up by a major studio.
Triple-award-winning THE GIRL WHO RUINED CHRISTMAS, (October 2021) sold out its first print run before Thanksgiving. MY BIG HEART-SHAPED FAIL has won three awards since it’s 2022 launch. These books along with original concepts are actively being shopped to producers, networks and streamers along with Cindy’s robust portfolio of original features and series.
A Jersey girl at heart, Cindy lives in Delaware with her family and rescued-pets.
We’re celebrating the release of Ferne Arfin’s novel, Tunnel of Mirrors. Read on for more details!
Tunnel of Mirrors
Publication Date: February 1st, 2022
Genre: Literary Fiction/ Contemporary Literary Fiction/ Romantic Elements “Eternal Lovers”
Publisher: Green River Press
Rachel Isaacson, spirited, otherworldly and haunted, is born into a rigidly Old World family in New York’s Lower East Side. Hungry for independence, Rachel enters a marriage of convenience with violent consequences.
Across the Atlantic, storyteller, fiddler and cliff climber Ciaran McMurrough is raised in pastoral innocence on Rathlin off the coast of Ulster. His upbringing in a tight-knit, isolated community leaves him unprepared for the subtle political passions following the Irish Civil War.
Outcasts-one by choice, one by chance-Rachel and Ciaran meet on the docks of lower Manhattan in 1928. Drawn to each other in this lyrical story, must they repeat a doomed cycle as eternal lovers?
“Tunnel of Mirrors fires the imagination and stirs the soul…a story to savour that remains long in the mind. I loved it.”
-Sunday Times Bestselling Author of Our Story, Miranda Dickinson
“Humour, emotion, and perfectly tuned dialogue, ensures her people are triumphantly alive.”
-Novelist Janette Jenkins, author of Firefly and Little Bones
“Tunnel of Mirrors is a beautiful, lyrical recreation of the past. With warmth, wit and great heart, Ferne Arfin takes the reader back into the struggles and small victories of a lost world.”
-Toby Litt, English writer and academic, author of Patience
Every morning, on the way to work, Rachel stopped at Bessie’s to change from the modest cotton dresses her father allowed into one of the swingy, short frocks that she and Bessie made during their lunch breaks. Then, their hemlines a daring nine inches above the ground, the two girls swanked uptown to their jobs at Mishkin’s, Theatrical Costumiers to the Trade.
Mishkin’s son, Arthur, managed the sewing rooms. He was sweet on Bessie and any friend of Bessie’s was a friend of his, so both girls could count on extra break time for their own sewing. They could count on remnants of fabric, from time to time, as well.
Mishkin allowed his trimmers to keep the beads and feathers swept up at the end of the day. Lately, Arthur, who Bessie kept on a very long leash, had begun passing on the full boxes of beads that were often left over when a show was dressed. These were supposed to go back into stock but Arthur said, “What the heck. They’re paid for. If my old man asks, you got them from the sweepings.”
“You’re a real prince, Arty,” Bessie would say and he would glow for a week. Sometimes she even gave him a peck on the cheek. It was a small price to pay for the very same sequins and beads the showgirls wore when they danced for Ziegfeld and Minsky.
Rachel and Bessie were making special dresses. They had big plans. It was no use knowing all the latest steps, if you couldn’t show them off at the landsmannschaft socials, where bearded old men and everybody’s mother prowled the dance floor. And most of the boys at Corkery’s Shamrock Dancehall thought a good time was slipping a double bathtub gin into a girl’s Moxie and seeing how far you could get her to go. If you went to Corkery’s too often, the regulars started thinking you were a charity girl who would do just about anything for the price of a bottle of pop. Drunken boys were always staggering out of there whistling the tune to I’ll Say She Does. Even though Corkery made his payments, the place got raided at least once a month. Duvi said it was part of Corkery’s arrangement with Tierney, who was the local boss, because it kept the neighbours off the councilman’s back. Duvi always knew about the raids in advance, so the girls never got into trouble.
But now Rachel and Bessie were ready for better things. In the right place, a girl could meet big spenders who were hot steppers and who carried real Canadian whiskey in silver hip flasks. But for high-class dancehalls like Roseland or Dreamworld or Feldman’s Coney Island Palace, they needed real dance dresses.
Bessie thought Rachel should bob her hair. But some things couldn’t be left behind in Bessie’s rooms and Rachel was careful to protect her new double life. “You said you wasn’t afraid of your old man,” Bessie insisted. Rachel couldn’t make Bessie, who never did anything by half, understand that some arguments were not worth the trouble. Or that most of the trouble would land on her mother. Bessie hadn’t had a mother in such a long time.
***
Rachel weighed a heavy hank of glass beads across the palm of her hand. Bugles. The most delicate cylinders of crystal blue and green, threaded on lengths of fine silk. They sparked like a shoal of moon-chased minnows. There were enough to finish.
“And about time too,” Bessie said. Bessie had grown impatient with Rachel’s fussy particularity. Anything that glittered made Bessie happy. While Rachel waited for just the right colours, Bessie had finished her dress and was stringing a boa of pink dyed marabou feathers. She waved it under Rachel’s nose. “Ain’t these just dee-vine?” she said. “Ain’t they just the cat’s pyjamas?”
Rachel didn’t have the heart to tell her she looked like an explosion at bead factory; Bessie was so eager to make what she imagined would be a very grand entrance at Roseland. “Look out fellas, here I come.”
Rachel had planned more carefully, making sure Arty found just what she needed. If Arty ever wondered why he took so much trouble for a skinny Jewish girl, when he was already married to one and when it was her Irish shiksa friend he was after, Rachel did not let him wonder for long. Still the dress had taken months to finish. It was covered with beaded fringe and scattered with iridescent sequins, flashes of silver and the smallest seed pearls that Arty could finagle. From its pure white hemline, it rose in a narrow column through all the greens and blues to a deep cobalt at the shoulders. When Rachel put it on, she looked like a creature risen from the bottom of the ocean, seafoam still clinging about her knees.
“Geez, you look like a million, kiddo.” Bessie said. “Who’d ever guess you was jail-bait.”
BCH: Thank you for joining us on the blog today. We’re so excited to learn more about you and your new book! Can you tell us what prompted the idea for Tunnel of Mirrors?
Ferne: I heard a family story that haunted me for years. They key event in the story was so remarkable that I knew there could be a novel in it. But it also led to a bitter, unhappy life for the woman whose story it was. I wanted to try to write her into a different ending.
BCH: You’ve previously had short stories published. Other than time, what was the main difference in writing short stories compared to a novel length book?
Ferne: There’s a wonderful book, Writing in General and the Short Story in Particular, by the late Rust Hills, once fiction editor of Esquire. In it he defined a short story as “Something happens to somebody.” When I write a short story, the something that happens comes first. Usually the whole idea – start to finish – is formed in one concentrated burst of thinking. The story is written before I set down a single word.
A novel is more a process of gradual revelation, a kind of excavation. I start with the characters, and maybe the settings and I set them in motion. I may know some of the key landmarks along the way, but I rarely know where they will end up. I enjoy the process of discovering what my characters will do.
BCH: It looks like you’ve had quite a few interesting jobs. Which is your favorite?
Ferne: I loved being a journalist. It was like being paid to play. Every day was different. Every morning, showing up for my shift in the city room, I never knew what to expect. I never knew where the editors would send me or which of my ideas they would take up. I met politicians, crooks and swindlers, even movie stars. My most vivid work memories are from those days.
BCH: As a writer, do you prefer putting your stories down with pen and paper, dictation, or do you sit at a computer?
Ferne: I write at a computer and have done for years. I have a large-screened all in one. Interestingly, I can’t proofread off the screen. I only catch mistakes when I read from paper.
BCH: Have you had a mentor, in any of your occupations, who you feel shaped who you are today as a writer? What piece of advice resonated with you the most?
Ferne: I’ve had several different mentors. There was a newspaper editor who encouraged me early in my career and an important fiction editor of a major American magazine who invited me to a writers’ group in his home. And then there was the author, the late Malcolm Bradbury who inspired me to give myself permission to be an artist.
BCH: Is there anything else you’d like to share with readers about Tunnel of Mirrors?
Ferne: I hope readers will enjoy entering the worlds the Rachel and Ciaran come from and sharing their discovery of each other.
About the Author
London-based American writer Ferne Arfin has worked as a journalist, copywriter, actress and travel writer. Her short stories have been anthologised by Virago and Travellers’ Tales. Tunnel of Mirrors is her first published novel.
It Goes Like This Miel Moreland
Published by: Feiwel & Friends
Publication date: May 18th 2021
Genres: Contemporary, LGBTQ+, Young Adult
In Miel Moreland’s heartfelt young adult debut, It Goes Like This, four queer teens realize that sometimes you have to risk hitting repeat on heartbreak.
Eva, Celeste, Gina, and Steph used to think their friendship was unbreakable. After all, they’ve been though a lot together, including the astronomical rise of Moonlight Overthrow, the world-famous queer pop band they formed in middle school, never expecting to headline anything bigger than the county fair.
But after a sudden falling out leads to the dissolution of the teens’ band, their friendship, and Eva and Celeste’s starry-eyed romance, nothing is the same. Gina and Celeste step further into the spotlight, Steph disappears completely, and Eva, heartbroken, takes refuge as a songwriter and secret online fangirl…of her own band. That is, until a storm devastates their hometown, bringing the four ex-best-friends back together. As they prepare for one last show, they’ll discover whether growing up always means growing apart.
Miel Moreland was born and raised in Minneapolis, Minnesota. With time spent in California and France, she has a Midwestern heart but wandering feet. When not making pop music references and celebrating fandom, she is likely to be found drinking hot chocolate and making spreadsheets. She currently resides in Boston, where she works in higher education. It Goes Like This is her debut novel.
