Nicole Kilpatrick's Blog

I once thought that the joy of seeing my book in print and holding it in my hand could never be rivaled, but hearing my novel, Clover, narrated and brought to life was a whole new level of surreal and awesome. I was lucky enough to have worked with an extraordinarily talented narrator, Cassandra Alling. …

Fae’s Ascent Audibook Sneak Peak Read More »

Quite a bit has been brewing in the world of Clover that I’m so happy to share with you. Firstly, the CLOVER Audiobook has been released and I’m so in love with my wonderful narrator, Cassandra Alling. Talk about range. Cassandra was able to fully bring all my characters to life, multiple accents and all! …

Clover Book News! Read More »

I am beyond thrilled to be sharing this exciting news with all of you. As recently as four years ago, if somebody would have told me that I’d one day write a novel, I would have totally chalked the notion up to fantasy and wishful thinking. Fast forward to 2021 and my debut novel, Clover, …

Clover is a finalist for the 2021 Rone Award for Best YA Book! Read More »

Mea culpa! I’ve been really delinquent with my blog updates, and am just now getting back into the swing of things.

2020, as we all know too well, exploded on our lives and seemingly turned everything on its head. The phrase “new normal” was bandied about so frequently that it actually turned trite. We zoomed our way through work, school, Zumba classes, and more. “Your mic is off,” became as commonplace a greeting as “how are you,” and toilet paper turned out to be the most coveted of commodities.

These very minor inconveniences aside, many of us faced real scares and real losses, making the past year an honest-to-goodness nightmare for millions of people all over the globe. I can only hope that the new year brings with it a promise for a safer and more secure future for us all.

As for me, despite 2020’s obvious struggles, it brought me something quite priceless, something I’ve aspired for and dreamed of my entire life: My debut novel, Clover, was published in December and my heart is literally fit to burst.

Since then, I’ve received tremendous support from readers and other authors, and despite the whole world being pretty much on lockdown, Clover made its way to people’s homes, reading devices, and in many cases, their hearts. I don’t think a greater joy exists for a first-time author than being able to bring smiles to reader’s faces. I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again: Positive reviews are pixie dust for a writer’s soul. I’m so thankful to have been able to go on this amazing journey, which is why I’m beyond thrilled to announce the next step in this extraordinary adventure. FAE’S ASCENT, the sequel to Clover, will be published in the Fall of 2021 by Fire & Ice Young Adult Books!

(Steps away from the computer and does a wild jig)

I am so excited about my upcoming release and also very psyched about some things I’ve got brewing for Clover. For the month of February, I’m going on a virtual book tour organized by “Bewitching Book Tours” and will also be doing an Instagram tour organized by “Storygram Tours.”

I’ll be updating you on anything else I’ve got planned as I’ve now made a fervent promise to blog more frequently to share the ins and outs of this amazing ride, for which I’m so grateful.

Follow Clover on its virtual book tour! Sites and dates listed below:

Blog Tour

February 8 Midnight Musings with Bertena – https://midnightmusingswithbertena.blogspot.com

February 8 The Creatively Green Write at Home Mom – http://creativelygreen.blogspot.com

February 9 Jazzy Book Reviews – http://bookreviewsbyjasmine.blogspot.com

February 9 Horror Made – https://horrormade.com

February 10 Sadie’s Spotlight – http://sadiesspotlight.com

February 11 Author Stephanie Hansen – https://www.authorstephaniehansen.com/blog

February 12 Dark Whimsical Art – www.darkwhimsicalart.com

February 15 Momma Says: To Read or Not to Read http://mommasaystoreadornottoread.blogspot.com

February 15 Paranormalists – https://paranormalists.blogspot.com

February 16 Roxanne’s Realm – http://www.roxannerhoads.com

February 16 The Book Junkie Reads – https://thebookjunkiereadspromos.blogspot.com

 February 17 T’s Stuff – http://www.tsstuff.net

February 18 Supernatural Central – http://supernaturalcentral.blogspot.com

February 19 Lisa’s World of Books – http://www.lisasworldofbooks.net

February 19 JB’s Bookworms with Brandy Mulder – https://jbbookworms.blogspot.com

February 22 Fang-tastic Books – http://fang-tasticbooks.blogspot.com

Instagram

February 21- @thereadingcornerforall

February 22- @morrighanrose

February 23- @cc_bookreviews

February 24- @bookbriefs

February 25- @gingersbookclub

February 26- @readingmypages

February 27- @lifeinlit

I’m so happy to show off my beautiful cover by Ashley Redbird Designs.

Scroll down to read more!

Clover is a Young Adult Fantasy novel that reimagines the leprechaun trope, depicting them as handsome, powerful fairies—and not the little mischievous sprites of lore. It’s an adventure and a love story which touches on the themes of luck, coming of age, and crossing worlds.

****

When a handsome leprechaun reveals himself to Clover O’Leary on her eighteenth birthday, she is faced with three hard facts. One: he is the reason for her remarkably charmed life; Two: her luck has now taken a turn for the worse. Three: her name is a curse; a malicious gift from the powerful leprechaun who named her while she was still in the womb.

In order to get her life back and undo the evil spell, she must travel to Ireland to seek the only creature who may be able to help: the Seelie Queen. With her intriguing leprechaun in tow, Clover crosses into the Faerie Realm, where fairies and mythical creatures abound and where finding her luck may ultimately lead to finding her love.

I’m so incredibly stoked. On December 1st, my book baby will be out in the world. I can’t wait for everyone to get to know and love Clover and the whole cast of amazing characters in the book.

This is me losing my mind when I first received my print galley.

Holding the first printed copy in my hands was unbelievable; years of blood, sweat, and tears come to fruition! But the journey doesn’t end here. A new chapter has just begun. I’m incredibly psyched for what’s to come and I hope that you’ll come to love Clover as much as I’d enjoyed writing her story.

Pre-order links coming soon!

These are, indeed, strange and troubling times. New York City is but a shell of what it used to be, the lights have literally gone out on Broadway, and every single day, we learn of more deaths, and more cases of Covid-19 in the city and all over the world.  Ironically, social distancing has rightfully become the “new normal” in a time when we need to keep our social ties strong and intact more than ever. I was in Hong Kong on holiday with my family in late January, just as Wuhan was being quarantined and Hong Kong and other neighboring cities saw their first confirmed cases of the virus. One might think it a reckless idea to vacation in a country that was being plagued by a deadly virus, but people tend to feel invincible. Sure, it might happen to some people, but not to me. Sound familiar? As cases of Covid hit closer to home every day, we are forced to take on a new perspective. Suddenly, we’ve all become paranoid germaphobes; an innocuous cough now loaded with more firepower than a 357-magnum revolver. Bang. You’re it.

What to do? Do we lock our doors forever against this fierce, invisible enemy? Not quite. Thankfully, with care and a few extra precautions, life goes on as it should. The good with the bad. Just recently, I completed the final edits on my novel with my editor. If I hadn’t been working from home, the three-week process could have easily turned into a three-month ordeal. Suddenly, seeking out silver linings has become a new preoccupation. Observe: If I hadn’t had the extra time on my hands, I probably would’ve never gotten around to trying out those yoga videos. Yay me!  Okay, it was one yoga video and it was for beginners, but still.

These are, indeed, trying times, but there’s a lot to be thankful for. Family. Loved ones. Health. Laughter. Hope. My list could go on and on. Here’s one to add to the list: I’ve recently started writing my second novel, albeit slowly. When I was writing my first book, the task seemed so gargantuan sometimes that I felt overwhelmed.  The way I got through it was elephant bites. My husband cheered me on by equating each word, each paragraph and each new chapter to an elephant bite. Nibbles here and there, but ultimately, how does one expect to dine on Dumbo, except by taking one bite at a time? One day I was surprised to discover that I’d succeeded in eating the whole darn thing.

My new project, my fresh elephant if you will, is large and looming as ever.  Luckily, I’ve developed a stronger gut. A morsel here, a munch there, every day stronger and closer to my goal. Same goes for this new normal. One inch, one step at a time, we’ll bridge the gap between what once was and what’s to be, coming out on the other side stronger and closer to our goals.

I have three real passions in life. Writing is one of them. The other two are travelling and eating. Okay, full disclosure: The fourth is napping. This past Christmas, instead of doing our traditional prime rib dinner at my in-laws, we decided to hop the pond and visit the UK, Belgium and the Netherlands over the holidays. My gorgeous sister-in-law was turning fifty, her birthday on the 24th of December. She had decided that this year’s celebration was going to be special, and in her unwillingness to share the spotlight with Jesus, she had decided to cancel Christmas and spend her birthday in London (Christmas dinner be damned). Of course, my husband and I quickly got on board with this paganistic plan and decided to pop on over to surprise her. On the night of her birthday, we had dinner reservations at Aqua at the Shard, a pretty swanky restaurant on the thirty-first floor of the Shard building near London Bridge. My sister-in-law was under the impression that she and my brother-in-law were having dinner with a common acquaintance’s London-based friends. The moment she saw our smiling faces, she shrieked so loudly and with such intensity that the floor-to-ceiling glass windows nearly shattered, and my husband and I nearly handcuffed for assault. Despite the commotion, the kind folks at Aqua didn’t throw us out and served us a pretty good dinner instead. The highlight of my dinner was a rich pumpkin soup with truffles and what can only be described as some variant of Rice Krispies at the bottom. I suppose the real draw of the restaurant was the awesome view of London with all its twinkly lights. Overall, a very enjoyable evening.

The next day, as most restaurants were closed for Christmas dinner, we found ourselves in Chinatown of all places. Prime Rib was quickly replaced with Peking Duck with no complaints here. Unfortunately I can’t recall the name of the place we went to. It was one of many nondescript restaurants with roasted duck hanging by the front window, where char sui and dumplings were prevalent and steaming hot tea got served by the potfuls.

Iberico ham

I have to admit though, London is no foodie destination – at least not for this foodie. While I did thoroughly enjoy my full English breakfasts, typical British fare didn’t really have me drooling.  To be honest, one of the most satisfying meals I had in London was at Jamon Jamon, a Spanish tapas restaurant. Show me some Iberico ham and croquetas, and I’ll show you a happy woman.

I’m of the belief that once you’ve seen one big city, you’ve
seen them all. While London did have its charms, my husband and I decided to go
the road less travelled and booked two nights at a town called Whitstable, one
and a half hours east of London via train. This cozy seaside town was the
welcome respite that I needed on this trip. We stayed at a lovely B&B right by the beach.
It was the tiniest room I’ve ever been in, but it was clean, with a balcony
bigger than the actual room.

A bad photo of a delicious pie

A bus ride away from Whitstable was the lovely, historic town of Canterbury. With its meandering cobbled walkways and festive Christmas bazaars, it was the perfect place to pass a wintry afternoon. At the Old Weaver’s Restaurant in Canterbury, I had a most delicious lamb and rosemary pie. Nothing beats meat, fresh herbs and gravy topped with a crown of fresh puffed pastry.

From the UK, we travelled to Brussels and stayed at the Bedford Hotel and Congress Center. In a
room four times bigger than my Whitstable cubby hole, we could have happily
played bocce with room to spare. I highly recommend this place if you’re
travelling to Brussels – a very short walk to the Grand Place, affordable, with
clean, big, although a bit dated accommodations. As fish and chips are to
London, moules (mussels) are to Brussels, and we were more than happy to
partake. At Chez Patrick, we had moules
au vin blanc, which while enjoyable enough, was nothing to write home
about.

A big bowl of mussels



I heart Amsterdam

Last stop on our trip was Amsterdam.  Amidst the fog of cannabis and the ruby-lit, living, breathing window displays of the red-light district was a beautiful and enchanting city of canals, coffee shops and crepes.  I thoroughly enjoyed our time here. We sampled traditional Dutch cuisine at Moeders – a kitschy small restaurant plastered with pictures of mothers from every generation.  Again, while the food was not unpleasant, it didn’t really make my taste buds sing either. Oddly enough, the best meal in Amsterdam was had at Aneka Rasa, an Indonesian place which specializes in what they call “Rijsttafel”, which is basically a sampling of different types of Indonesian fare. They all came out in small plates served atop a metal heating plate. What can I say, I guess I’m really a tapas-type girl.

Rijsttafel at Aneka Rasa, Amsterdam

We flew back to New York and spent New Year’s Eve at the family riverside cabin in Pennsylvania. A campfire, good food, a nice long nap, champagne and fireworks at midnight. Truly an evening well-spent. The perfect end to a great year – a year of goals met, victories won, love openly shared and countless memories made.

I wish you all the very best for the coming year. May
everyone get that much closer to living their best lives, and may each
succeeding year be better than the one before. 

I am going to be published. I am going to be
published.

What was once a mantra, an affirmation of sorts, whispered when
the going got tough and recited as a self-fulfilling prophecy, is now a
reality. My book, my baby, has been picked up by an indie press and will be
released by December of 2020!!! Hang on….

Okay, I’m back. I just screamed into a pillow. Glad to have
gotten that out of the way. Needless to say, I’m thrilled beyond belief. I doubt
that there exists a greater joy for an author than for one’s work to be acknowledged
and published (except perhaps becoming a bestseller!) and I am so grateful for
the opportunity. But now the real work begins. Editing, building a platform,
marketing and hoping against hope that people will actually buy and enjoy my novel.

I am overwhelmed, ecstatic and scared all at once. The window
of possibilities is wide open. There are a million more steps to take along the
way, but I feel like I’m on the right track. This is good. This is really good.

And so, the next step in this crazy adventure begins, and I’m more than happy to take the leap.

When I first
had an idea for a novel, I was almost afraid to tell anyone about it, lest it
become real.  It was like by telling
someone, I’d be unleashing a proverbial pandora’s box out into the universe. It
was like if I spoke about it, then I would be compelled, obligated even, to
write it. Honestly, that scared the crap of out me.

So, the idea
remained a secret, a fantasy if you will. I carried it around with me like
precious cargo; the thought that I might actually write a novel too frightening
and too large to even fathom.  My
revelations, when they finally came, progressed slowly; shared over a beer with
my husband, whispered to my sister as we giggled like teenagers in our old
shared bedroom during a visit home. However far-fetched, at some point I
actually started to entertain the idea. Could I actually attempt to do
this?! Maybe someday.

“Someday”
inevitably got put on the back-burner, superseded by ever slightly more
important things like… well, life. Work. Responsibilities. The day-to-day grind
that turns days into months and months into years in the blink of an eye. The
idea remained though. Like a nagging little gnat that I couldn’t quite swat
away, a voice persisted. Just do it already. What are you waiting for?!

I was
waiting for Stephen King, it turned out. In the summer of 2017, I started
reading On Writing. It had been in my Kindle for a while, but I had
never really gotten around to reading it. Yeah, I know. What a cliché I am. A
book on writing got me writing. I have to come clean though –  that’s exactly what happened. Mr. King’s book,
which was part bio and part masterclass, was exactly the ember I needed to
light the fire under my (pardon my French) ass. Not even ten minutes after
putting his book down, I started writing my own.

In the years
that followed, I quietly wrote at sloth’s speed. Little bits here and there,
whenever pesky things like work and life weren’t in the way. I shared each
finished chapter with my husband, my sister and a handful of “beta” readers
which consisted of close friends and family. It became a sort of
hobby-slash-project. Not the kind that takes you to Home Depot, but the kind
that lights you up from inside and makes your heart beat like you’ve just run a
mile.

I was in a happy cocoon of creativity, emotional support (thank you my cheerleaders!) and inspiration.  Until one day in the summer of 2019 when something frightening happened. I finished. My novel had actually gotten written. Eighty thousand words of blood, sweat and tears. After a couple of rounds of edits, I embarked on the soul-crushing, heart-wrenching debacle that is querying. Talk about putting yourself out there. Imagine this. You send a letter out, asking for, say, a date. You wait patiently for a response. Then you finally get an email basically saying, “Umm, yeah. But, no. Pass.” Sight unseen. Ouch.

Writers have
been telling aspiring writers since the first book was published: Prepare to be
rejected. You need to have thick-skin. The road to success is paved with
rejection slips. We all know and accept these to be truths. Somehow, knowing it
and living it are two entirely different things.

Despite the
initial rejections, I soldiered on; my tight little circle of supporters
cheering me on; again ensconced in my happy little bubble. Until I decided to
start a blog, that is. Whatever possessed me to do this? I guess it all goes
back to my “dating” analogy. Sending emails is fine, but if you really want to
land a date, well, you’ve got to go online and put up a profile. These are the
realities of the tech savvy, hyper-connected world we live in right now. And
so, here I am. Putting myself out there. Again.

My warm,
cushy cocoon is burst wide open. Whether I sink or swim ceases to be a private
matter. All of Twitter, Facebook and WordPress are now privy to my little
secret. I have written a book. I hope to get it published. It may get hard, but
I will soldier on. There, I’ve come out. Whatever successes or failures await,
I now share openly with you, with the world. The finale is yet unknown, but by
God, it’ll be one heck of a ride getting there.

Quite literally, ever since I’ve gone on this writing
journey, I’ve been hearing voices in my head. My main character’s voice. My antagonist’s.  The side characters’. The cat. When I lie in
bed at night, they come alive and long after I’ve dozed off, it feels like they
continue on. Having their conversations, falling in love, fighting, plotting.
When I wake up, I get a sense that something has transpired, but when I try to
get pen to paper, the thoughts escape even before I get out of bed.

Medical professionals would define escapism as the habitual
diversion of the mind to purely imaginative activity or entertainment as an
escape from reality or routine. Could all writers, then, in some form, be
escapists? When an author creates a world so magical and unique that it
warrants its own elfin language, could this not be considered escapism at its
most splendid and truest form?

Perhaps I have gone a little loony. While writing, I’ve
often caught myself thinking – “Well, character A would never stand for that,
she’s better than that” – like she and I somehow share an intimacy wherein I know
how she’ll react to any given situation. Or – “Character B won’t appreciate me
writing this scene in” – like somehow my creative impulses have the ability to
hurt imaginary feelings.  Could I then
be, by definition, harboring and cultivating imaginary relationships?

I once saw a shirt that read Writing is not for the Faint
of Heart. Personally, I think that writing is not for the sane of mind. The
highs and lows of one’s writing journey is enough to give anybody whiplash. One
minute you’re typing away, oozing with ideas and positivity, the next you’re
staring at a blank screen typing “All work and no play makes Nikki a dull girl”
over and over and over again. Don’t even get me started on the querying
process. I don’t believe I’ve ever felt more elated than when I received my
first full manuscript request from an agent. On the other hand, I’ve never felt
more deflated than when I got that first bad rejection.

I suppose what I’m getting at is this: Since I’ve started
writing my novel, I’ve been more unhinged, erratic, ecstatic, worried, giddy,
anxious, fretful, excited and plain batshit crazy than I’ve ever been in my
entire life.  I sleep less soundly, I
multi-task with less efficiency and I fret with increased voracity.

But here’s the thing. I have never felt more alive.  I don’t know much, but I do know this: If you
have a dream, whatever it may be, however difficult the path, YOU HAVE TO GO
FOR IT.  Even though you’ve stepped
so far out of your comfort zone that you feel you might fall off the edge. Even
though there is no way of knowing what lies ahead. Even if you might fail. The
key is that you went for it.

“Go confidently in the direction of your dreams”, says
the voice in my head.

Why, thank you. I do believe I will.