HOLIDAY PROMOTION!

Dear friends,

Few gifts are ever appreciated more than a book. By giving a book you are gifting the recipient with hours or reading pleasure – definitely a lot of value for your hard-earned money!

This holiday, I would like to give you a gift of my own: If you suggest my books to at least five of your friends, or spread the love through five of your social networks or e-mail, I will send you a free Kindle download; if you purchase five paperbacks as Christmas presents, I will send you an autographed copy at no charge to you. Whatever you choose to do to spread the love, send me a note through the contact form on my website http://www.sandracarringtonsmith.com and I will send your free copy of the book you prefer.

Here are the Amazon links you can use:
http://amzn.to/aqHlpM
http://amzn.to/tZacdu

May you and yours have a wonderful Holiday season!

Online Contest: Enter to Win Cash Prizes!

This online contest is open to resident of the US, Canada and UK. Contestants are required to answer three questions on the novel, The Book of Obeah. Responses to the questions should be sent to Obeahcontest@gmail.com starting on June 10, 2011, and all entries should be received by July 30, 2011. I will select three winners by midnight on that date and notify them via e-mail. Cash prizes will be awarded through Paypal, or if winners prefer, I can arrange to send a money order. Autographed books will be sent to the address of your choice. This contest is not opened to individuals who were involved with the making of the book, to include the publisher and its affiliates, independent editors and marketing consultants.

Please answer these questions:

1 – In The Book of Obeah, Melody met several characters. Which of the characters do you think will follow her into the next book of the series, and why?

2 – Imagine the possibility of The Book of Obeah becoming a feature film. If you were the cast director, who would you cast to play the different roles?

3 – In a few words, tell me how the story should continue. Based on the information you have from the first book, what do you think should happen next?



Prizes will be awarded as such:

- First prize: $100
- Second prize: $75
- Third prize: $50


Three other winners will be awarded honorary mentions on my website, http://www.sandracarringtonsmith.com and they will receive an autographed copy of the novel.

Enter today and let your friends know so that they can also qualify for a chance to win. GOOD LUCK!!!

No purchase is necessary to enter the contest. If you are interested in reading reviews or the synopsis of the novel, please visit http://amzn.to/chhyjA

Cajun Fest and Benefit Book Signing, Saturday September 18, 12pm-3pm

I would like to invite you to a fun and spicy event. This weekend, on Saturday September 18, 12pm-3pm, Abagayle's Books and Collectibles in Henderson NC will be hosting a book signing and Cajun Fest. http://www.abagaylesbooks.com/

Come and enjoy a taste of Louisiana by sampling traditional dishes, and join me for a reading. $1 from each copy of The Book of Obeah and Housekeeping for the Soul sold during this event will go benefit the Louisiana SPCA in honor of all pets lost during Hurricane Katrina. Please do note that during the month of September ALL proceeds from digital sales such as downloads to your Nook and Kindle will also go to this worthy cause.

I hope to see you there!

Eye on New Orleans: Katrina's Other Orphans

As we continue our Hooked on the Book campaign, we would like to take the time to honor yet another category of Louisiana residents -- our four-legged friends. During Hurricane Katrina many animals were lost and separated from their families. Thanks to the effort of the Louisiana SPCA, many were able to be reunited with their original families, while others were placed in new loving homes.

As we approach the fifth anniversary of Katrina, I am proud to announce that $1 from the sale of each hard copy of Housekeeping for the Soul and The Book of Obeah, and ALL proceeds from e-book sales, will be donated to the Louisiana SPCA through Hooked on the Book, a Books for Good campaign.

Especially during active hurricane season, donations are fundamental to upkeeping the service agencies like SPCA are able to provide, so I hope you will join me in this effort and you will help me spread the word by forwarding this information to your family and friends. For more information, please visit http://hookedonthebook.com/

And please, always remember our motto: 'If everyone gives a thread, a poor man will have a shirt.' In this case, we might not be able to weave a shirt for our animal friends, but we'll ensure that they will have a home away from home if they ever need one again.

Many blessings,

Sandra

A Perfect Afternoon

If one could write a recipe for the perfect afternoon, yesterday had all the right ingredients. After the baby-sitter arrived – to Morgan’s delight, since she adores her – I drove to Goldsboro for a book signing hosted by Wall2Wall Photography. While the sky appeared a bit crossed, the tears were stubbornly held back, and I enjoyed a rain-free trip. When I got there, two ladies – Elaine and Sherrill – were already there, and I parked behind one of their cars.

The next couple of hours were terrific. Some of Julie’s friends from her day job stopped by, purchased books and offered interesting conversation. The food was great – Sherrill, those Amaretto cookies were to die for! – the wine delightful and sweet, and all along we enjoyed a background of wonderful New Orleans Blues. To add to the magic, Julie’s family was there, and I thoroughly enjoyed talking to them.

After a while, one lady had to leave and my car was blocking her way, so I got my keys and went outside to move it. I initially thought of backing out all the way, but then I had this crazy thought of pulling over the side a bit and let her squeeze through. Well, squeeze she did, but my pulling to the side took a whole new meaning when I forgot that there was no side – I nicely backed into a drain ditch. Not even aware of it in the beginning, I was puzzled when my car didn’t move and thought I was stuck in the mud, until I got out and saw that the right back tire was airborne over the ditch.

We all stood there hoping to come up with a solution, when Julie’s husband decided to get his tractor and pull my car out. It only took a moment for him to pull the car and have it with all four tires on the ground. The moment we got back on the porch, a powerful storm approached; we barely made it under cover before the sky opened in a downpour.

The little “ditch accident” could have put a damper on the perfect afternoon, but once I totaled the facts, it was easy to see that nothing had happened – I was fine, the car was fine, Julie’s newly-planted Monkey Grass wasn’t even disturbed, and we had escaped the rain just in time. When the storm subsided a bit, it was time for me to head back home. As I drove, I thought back about the car in the ditch, and wondered if there was a silver lining to the little dark cloud. It wasn’t until I got closer to home that the answer to my question popped up.

Allowing minor trouble to come in and spoil our day is an easy thing to do, but it is something we can surely control. We can’t always be in charge of circumstances, but we always own our thoughts and the way we respond to challenges. The car in the ditch could have been something completely annoying, but we were able to turn it around and laugh about it, adding one more piece to an already beautiful puzzle. Life happens, but if we can strive to turn a negative into a positive, it can always be a fun adventure.

The Magic of an Ordinary Day

Yesterday was a fun day. It started around seven in the morning when I woke up in a house full of sleeping kids. I went downstairs, started the coffee pot, and went outside on the porch to give the flowers a little drink while I waited for my own cup of miracles to finish brewing. It was an amazing morning – already steamy so early on, the day announced itself as yet another scorcher.

There is something quite magical about a summer – or late spring – morning. Birds fill the air with an excited song of promise and the nocturnal moisture is still lingering in tiny droplets bathing every leaf and strand of grass, as if they just came back from a relaxing swim. I sat on one of the porch rockers for a few minutes and deeply inhaled the intoxicating scent of grass and budding life, before an even more bewitching aroma penetrated the air and made everything pale in comparison – coffee was ready.

The rest of the morning passed quite uneventfully, aside from my daughter running off like a thief in the night with the magic marker I was using to create a poster for the book signing, and then forgetting where she had left it when her 5-year-old attention was captured by some other random thing. Funny as it is, while I was looking for the marker I found an old necklace I had misplaced some time ago. I never found the marker and I came to the conclusion that either my house swallows and spits items at its own liking, or my daughter fits her enchantress name and she figured out how to make things shift in and out of reality at will. I am confident that with more practice one of these days she’ll learn how to shift a sack of money INTO reality.

Hours flew by and it was suddenly time for morning to trade shifts with afternoon, which also meant it was time to leave for the signing. With a budding knight in shining armor in tow, I left my screaming daughter home with dad – that girl might never learn how to shimmer money into reality but she will, one day, win a Grammy for best dramatic performance – and Michael and I got on the road.

When we arrived, the owner of the tea shop informed me they had been pretty slow but I unpacked anyway while my son went next door to get two bottles of water ($4 for two bottles of water! You’d think the kid had bought Zeus’ water of life and knowledge!)

The signing proved to be slow as well, but we had a great time. A handful of friends stopped by and kept us company; I sold a few books and raised the first $15 going toward Hooked on the Book, a newly-launched project to raise funds for the Gulf.

After wrapping up, we went to Piccola Italia with two of the friends who stopped by. We sat at one of their outside tables and chatted away. The food was great, the wine superb, the company wonderful, and we even got to meet the owner of the joint, a jolly little Italian Man with a heavy accent and hands magically designed to make good pizza. What more can a soul desire?

The rest of the evening was very laid back and even my magic marker reappeared, now that I no longer needed it. When the kids went to bed I thought back about the day and couldn’t help smiling. There are challenging things happening in the world, often in our very own backyard, yet every day can be a great one if we stop and appreciate the small things. Through the eyes of a pessimist yesterday could have been a poor day – a necessary tool was lost, the signing was slow and the air outside was as hot and humid as soup, but if one really focused on reality, all those things had another, much happier side – I found a long-lost item, the lack of a large crowd gave me the opportunity of getting to know the people who had come a little better, and the warm weather allowed us the chance to sit outside and crown the day with a good meal and pleasant conversation.

Life is what you make it, and each experience can be as tart as lemon or sweet as candy. Personally, I choose to see it as a box of my favorite chocolates.

The Interview

Some things in life can simultaneously be exciting and scary. That’s how I felt yesterday as I prepared to participate in an hour-long radio interview. I tuned in a little earlier than my scheduled time to hear the previous guest and to get a feel of the conversation; after listening for a moment, my heart sank. Many questions and answers gravitated around current events and political issues, something I was completely unprepared for.

For a moment I was overtaken by sheer panic – what would the host ask me? Being almost entirely an apolitical creature, the mere thought of talking about such issues tied my tongue worse than a tablespoon of peanut butter. I watched the clock on my stove like a man awaiting his final moments, almost dreading to hear the phone ring. When it did, my heart skipped a beat, but suddenly the words a friend had shared with me just a few days before popped into my head. “If you get nervous,” she said, “speak your heart, not your mind.”

I could do that much. Her words soothed me and made me feel more confident, and I picked up the phone. The whole interview turned into a nice chat, and before I knew it I looked at the clock again and noticed that a whole hour had gone by. Somehow, I had lived through the interview and I had fun with it; once I started talking and answering questions the words formulated in my head with no particular effort.

After I hung up the phone I thought back about the whole experience. All the anxiety I had felt before the interview evaporated like droplets of dew in July sunshine the moment I decided that I was going to let my heart speak. Our inner self knows much more than we give it credit for, but on most occasions it selflessly sits back and allows the more arrogant and self-doubting rational mind to take center stage. The inner self has nothing to prove and will not argue meaningless points, but when all is said and done, its wisdom greatly surpasses the computerized knowledge of the rational mind. All of us have tremendous power if we tap into that part of ourselves which is not limited by ego and arrogance. We don’t need to know everything about a topic to relate how we feel about it. Another friend left me a comment on a post once: “Knowledge is being aware that a tomato is a fruit; wisdom is not putting it into a fruit salad.”

Ultimately, we can know the “ins” and “outs” of something, and spit out facts like an angry llama, but very few facts are powerful enough to replace the application of common sense and inner truth. Technicalities do not make one smarter, they only make one well-read.

In the end, my friend was right. When I retired the mind and enlisted the soul, all obstacles, doubts and limitations checked out, and inner knowing stepped in. Did I give all the right answers? Maybe; or maybe not. But, in the end, the conversation was pleasant and I got to discuss my beliefs, my books, healing techniques and spiritual matters.

Yesterday afternoon I found myself in front of a new door; it was great to discover that the key to it was already in my possession.

International Book Award Winner!

I found this out last night, and maybe I shouldn't even say anything, since results won't be announced until next week at Book Expo of America in NYC, but I am so excited I think I will fly away if I don't share...

The Book of Obeah won the International Book Award in the multicultural fiction category!!!

And, if I wasn't already happy enough, I found out Housekeeping for the Soul was a finalist in the nonfiction inspirational category!

I am SO happy right now, I could scream!!! I just had to share...:-)

Book Signing

This month my first two literary children are going to be born. Though I often joke around about giving birth to twins, the two couldn’t be any more different in nature. The first one, Housekeeping for the Soul, a nonfiction guide to self-renewal, is written in the same voice as my blog posts, while the second one, The Book of Obeah, is a novel of paranormal suspense.

Since many of you have been following this journey from the start and have asked to be notified when the ‘big day’ would finally come, I am happy and proud to announce (seriously, I am floating about an inch over the floor even as I write this) the official birth of the first twin, Housekeeping for the Soul.

The sweet bundle of joy is due to see the light of the world next Saturday, May 8 between 1:00 pm and 3:00 pm at the Barnes & Noble at The Streets at Southpoint in Durham, NC.

Though it is not officially released, I just found out this morning that the second twin, The Book of Obeah, is already stocked at the warehouse as well. It is probably not going to be on the shelves yet, but if you are coming, and you are interested in getting a copy ahead of the official release date, please do call the store a few days prior to the event, and they will have it there waiting for you when you arrive.

Thank you so much for your ongoing support, everybody, and I hope to see many of you next Saturday afternoon.

Blessings,

Sandra


www.sandracarringtonsmith.com

A Wish Upon A Star

“Star light, Star bright, the first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.” ~


When I woke up early in the morning, I had no idea what an amazing day yesterday would turn out to be. In so many ways, March 4 was special already, as it marked the first day of my oldest son attending a driving class. The rest of the day passed relatively uneventful, and it was almost seven o’clock when I finally got home. I started dinner and helped my daughter glue a small project she was working on, mindlessly stirring a pot of beef stew while some of the layers were drying.

By the time I went to check the mail, the sun had gone down, and one could feel a definite chill in the air; the street was quiet, softly wrapped in a dark blanket only interrupted by the yellow light filtering out of the blinds in neighbor’s windows. I opened the mailbox and stuck my hand inside, expecting to retrieve a handful of junk mail and maybe a bill or two, and I was quite surprised to find instead a large, stuffed envelope. At first thought, I assumed it was from my parents, although neither of them had alerted me of anything on the way; when I looked at the sender, my mouth instantly dried.

There in front of me was an envelope sent by my publisher, and unless the information my fingers sent to my brain was wrong, the content felt like books! I am expecting advance copies of Housekeeping for the Soul, but I didn’t think I would receive them until next week at the earliest, so this was a surprise I wasn’t prepared for. I took the envelope into the kitchen and opened one side; when my eyes caught sight of something black, my heart stopped! Could it be? Was it? Was I about to see a finished copy of the novel I have worked on for the last three years?

I pulled the first book out and just stared at it speechlessly. Due to be out in June, I suppose it never occurred to me that some advanced copies had already gone to the printer; and instead, here it was in front of me, the dream I never thought would materialize, in all its glory of three-hundred pages and bound with a beautiful cover. I don’t think that I could forget this first moment even if I lived two-hundred years…tears ran down my cheeks, and my hands shook. I took the book to the living room and sat on the couch. Instantly, I was hit with the realization of how magical this entire journey has been, and of how many angels have crossed my path to make it happen.

The first angel was a kind agent I met at the beginning of the journey, a no-nonsense lady who clearly told me the story had merit but needed to be cleaned out by a professional editor. She told me to get back in touch with her after completing the edit, as she would like to have first option at representing it. The search for an editor led to Dena, my amazing literary half who helped me turn a dream into reality. When the book was ready – or so I thought at the time – I e-mailed the same agent, but the e-mails bounced back. Today I realize that her only role in this was to point out the direction I should take, and once that was fulfilled she was gone. The rest of the story I have told times before, so I won’t go into details, but I think it is important to be aware that once an intention is set, not only does Universe get things in motion by arranging events and encounters, but strangely, the right people seem to walk into the scene at the exactly the right moment.

Throughout this journey I have met many angels – some have been champions of support, others have helped with editing and proof reading, and some more have come in with powerful suggestions. There are no words that can describe how grateful I am to everyone who made this whole process possible, and how humbled I am by the power of Universe, for once again it has showed me that if you put a wish upon a star and believe it will happen, a dream can someday become a beautiful reality.

The Book of Obeah is available for pre-sale on Amazon.com

The long-awaited moment is finally here...The Book of Obeah is available for pre-sale on Amazon.com, http://www.amazon.com/Book-Obeah-Sandra-Carrington-Smith/dp/1846942993/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1259757408&sr=1-1

The Book of Obeah - Preface and Prologue

PREFACE

“There will come a time when powerful signs herald a crossroads for Humanity. Events affecting one part of the Earth will instantly be known to the rest of the world and shall be recognized by a chosen few as the prophesied signs. Consequences of action and inaction will be apparent, cause and effect manifesting faster as this cycle draws toward conclusion. Inequities and imbalance will be painfully evident on individual, regional and global levels. Feelings of isolation, disconnection, and confusion will be widespread. Few will express these feelings, most choosing to mindlessly walk through their daily tasks, numbing themselves in countless ways. Hardships will flood the vast majority of people from every direction, creating a rising sea of anxiety. This will be reflected in Mother Earth being out of balance, with cataclysmic events taking place more regularly and more intensely as She strives to attain equilibrium.
A long-ago gathering of elders who revered and held sacred our connection to Mother Earth foresaw the time of this crossroads. A divinely inspired plan was conceived to counteract this state of imbalance, to be put into place at this crucial time. Over a preordained period, four distinct, devastating conflicts among societies throughout history will be confronted—one at a time—so as to heal suffering at the core, bringing about a state of wellness and balance. The prophetic elders knew they must protect this knowledge, for there would always be those who would seek to maintain control of the power. The elders’ descendants became protectors of this ancient wisdom tradition—sometimes knowingly, sometimes not—with their lives intrinsically entwined in guardianship of the sacred prophecy.
The painful disparities of the past and present must be exhumed to be honored and healed. Accountability will be imperative once a shift toward stability is initiated. The fate of All rests with a universal awakening…”

Translation of Choctaw tribal shaman proclamation; Bayou-Lacombe, LA; Circa 1878



PROLOGUE

Giselle never forgot the day she fled Louisiana.
It began as a fairly normal day, with the morning sun peeking through yellow gingham curtains framing the window above her bed. They were a recent gift from her mother, who had sewn them by hand as a surprise for her thirteenth birthday.
“Giselle, I’m going out for a little while,” Yvette announced from the hallway. “There's food in the kitchen. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Her mom was already gone by the time Giselle woke enough to reply. She didn’t know where her mother was going or what was happening, but could sense something was very wrong. Yvette had always been cheerful and affectionate but lately was withdrawn.
Reluctantly, Giselle got out of bed and quickly dressed. Once again, it was left to her to take care of her little brother. She hoped eight-year-old Francois hadn't felt the tension surrounding them lately.
She was worried about her father rarely being home; even more alarming was her mother's physical condition. Yvette seemed to worsen by the minute, with dark circles under her blue eyes, blending with an increasingly gray complexion.
Throughout the day Giselle did her best to entertain Francois and distract herself at the same time. They were in the middle of a card game when Yvette burst through the front door in a frenzy, panting as she ran to her bedroom and locked the door.
Francois looked at his big sister, silently pleading for answers. Giselle had no answers but knew better than to ask. Although mother and daughter were normally close, Yvette had grown secretive and moody in the last few days.
The two children sat motionless, afraid to breathe. It wasn't long before the bedroom door was flung open, revealing a wildly disheveled Yvette, clearly terrified, with eyes darting in all directions looking for threats only she could see.
“Mama, please tell me what’s wrong!”
Giselle ran over and Yvette clutched her hands in desperation, as if the girl could somehow save her from madness.
“We must leave now, child! There’s no time to lose!”
Giselle looked into her mother’s frightened eyes. “What are you saying, Mama? Why do we have to leave—what about Daddy?”
“There’s no time, Giselle. We have to leave now. Pack a few things for yourself, and I’ll take care of the rest.”
Giselle went to Francois, huddled in a far corner, his little body shaking. She wanted to scoop him up in her arms and comfort him, shielding them both from what was happening, but knew she must do as she was told. Yvette needed her now more than ever.

The children followed close behind as their mother led them through the thick vegetation of the swamp, stopping only to catch their breath.
The evening shadows had just begun their dance with the waning sun when Yvette paused at the base of an ancient oak tree. Giselle and Francois watched curiously as Yvette reached into the hollow of the trunk. Her back was to the children, but Giselle saw her carefully place something large and square into a cloth bag.
Yvette motioned for them to once again follow her through the winding paths among the trees. Eyes fixed straight ahead, she was lost in her own world, oblivious to the growing distress of her children.
Giselle carried Francois several times and did her best to soothe his cries. They continued this way through the endless darkness for many hours until they reached Morgan City.
They went directly to the railroad station where the children collapsed onto a wooden bench, and Yvette proceeded to buy tickets to take them away from the only home they had ever known.

The memory of their flight from the bayou was still vivid in Giselle’s mind and continued to evoke intense feelings within her, now seventy years later.
Sitting at her kitchen table, gaze fixed on a spellbound moth dancing around the ceiling light, Giselle knew time was running out.
Melody must be told the truth; an explosive chain of events was about to unfold around her granddaughter. She deeply regretted the decision to harbor such a secret her entire life.
Is there anyone in this world without regret when death is near? This question hovered in her mind all afternoon. Giselle dreaded the effect her passing would have on her beloved Melody, already too familiar with grief and loss. Even more she dreaded the impact of the revelations which lay ahead. The world as Melody knew it would soon crumble. Not being able to shelter the child weighed heavily on Giselle.
At least I was born into this clandestine world; Melody will now be thrust into it with no warning, no preparation. It was no surprise that her granddaughter had been chosen to fulfill the prophecy. Melody had an inner strength, with a core of integrity and sound judgment. Over the years Giselle had also observed Melody’s intuitive abilities. Her granddaughter scoffed at the idea of having intuition, but Giselle knew otherwise.
It was troubling that Melody repressed so much of herself, but her grandmother understood why she kept the world at a distance.
You can’t do that much longer, child. The walls are coming down; the veil exists and is growing more transparent with every breath.Giselle had waited years for the dream—a message—and it came to her three nights ago. The prophecy was clear, and Melody was the next link in this chain. Giselle was charged with revealing this legacy to her granddaughter but had no idea where to begin.
It suddenly dawned on her how to open this door. Of course! It was the only way.
Upon her death, Melody would receive a letter instructing her to go where it had all started for their family. This is where she would be guided to discover the ancient web of mystery at the heart of the legacy.
Giselle knew that, Annie, her own daughter, wouldn’t support Melody during the trials to come. But Melody would be fine; she was accustomed to her mother being emotionally absent.
Her granddaughter would stay busy in the weeks after her death, attending to all the details without outwardly questioning anything. She would do so out of love and respect, but also to keep the pain at bay.
There was no alternative.
She removed a colorful pouch from the pocket of her housecoat and withdrew an unusual, exquisite string of rosary beads. As she clutched the rosary to her heart, the pale, bony fingers of her right hand closed around the pen. She again looked up at the delicate moth, fervently praying Melody wouldn’t have to be sacrificed to the light.
“Please God, protect Melody and guide her on this path. Help her stay open…help guide her to the truth.”
Giselle began to write, knowing her granddaughter’s life was soon to be changed forever.



This title is available for pre-order on Amazon.com: http://www.amazon.com/Book-Obeah-Sandra-Carrington-Smith/dp/1846942993/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1257860654&sr=8-1
For more information please visit www.bookofobeah.com or watch the novel video trailer on Youtube: http://www.amazon.com/Book-Obeah-Sandra-Carrington-Smith/dp/1846942993/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1257860654&sr=8-1