I would like to claim that I have no bias here, but the fact is, I am TOTALLY biased. I have good reason to be. THE AWESOME is the book I wrote when I needed to laugh. It was the book that cleansed the palate after a bunch of ooky spooky stuff. I’ve got a soft spot for it. You should, too.

Here’s why.

1) It’s funny. No, really. It is. See below.  Our narrator is at paintball with her boyfriend and kicking the crap out of his friends.

“EAT PAINT, ASS MONKEYS!”

It was a glorious moment, the crowning achievement of my seventeen years of existence. There I was, sporting no paint splatters myself, yet systematically sniping each and every one of Ian’s unsuspecting teammates off of the field while screaming obscenities.

2) Janice is an awesome mom.

She shrugged, though it wasn’t an easy, fluid thing like she didn’t care. It was more like she cared too much and didn’t want to show it. “I know I’m a fuck-up. I wasn’t raised normal, and I sure in Hell didn’t know how to raise a kid, never mind on my own, so I had to wing it. It’s not a lot, but I’m trying over here.”

3) Lubov. Giant Russian women in general.

[Lubov] relaxed and went back to thumbing through her Glamour magazine. Maybe she’d pick up a new makeup tip that wasn’t ‘Roll your face on the Revlon counter and see what happens.’

4) Pet zombie, anyone?

One moment Lauren-The-Zombie was standing there smiling at us, the next she was a swooping Valkyrie of duck death, grabbing one of the unsuspecting fowl from the water and biting into its neck.

5) It’s anti-slutshaming.

“Well, then most mothers think sex is shameful, especially for a woman, and I think that’s a heaping pile of crap.”

***

THE AWESOME’s cover reveal will be on Fangirlish on 10/27/14. The book releases 5/26/15.

You can add it on Goodreads. You can preorder it through Amazon.

***

Seventeen-year-old Maggie Cunningham is tough, smart, and sassy. She’s also not like other girls her age, but then, who would be when the family business is monster hunting? Combat boots, ratty hooded sweatshirts, and hair worn short so nothing with claws can get a grip, Maggie’s concerns in life slant more toward survival than fashion or boys.

Which presents a problem when Maggie’s mother informs her that she can’t get her journeyman’s license for hunting until she loses her virginity. Something about virgin blood turning vampires into pointy rage monsters. Insides being on the outside and all that.

Maggie’s battled zombies and goblins and her fair share of house brownies, but finding herself a boy proves a much more daunting task than any monster hunt. Did you know normal girls don’t stuff their bras with holy water balloons? Nor do they carry wooden stakes in their waistbands. And they care about things like “matching” and “footwear.” Of course, they also can’t clean a gun blindfolded, shoot a crossbow, or exorcise ghosts from a house. Which means they’re lame and Maggie’s not. Because Maggie’s awesome. The Awesome, in fact.

Just ask her. She’d be more than happy to tell you.

After she finds herself a date.