YA Scavenger Hunt

Hello! I’m Roxanne Lambie, Author of QUANTUM
and your host for this portion of the hunt. 
I’m doing a giveaway of my own, in addition to all the amazing books being given away by the YASH authors. Enter here: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/85d079c62/?
Roxy Author Photo 2
If you’re new to “the hunt”, start here:

Welcome to YA Scavenger Hunt! This bi-annual event was first organized by author Colleen Houck as a way to give readers a chance to gain access to exclusive bonus material from their favorite authors…and a chance to win some awesome prizes! On this hunt, you not only get access to exclusive content from each author, you also get a clue for the hunt. Add up the clues, and you can enter for our prize–one lucky winner will receive one book from each author on the hunt in my team! But play fast: this contest (and all the exclusive bonus material) will only be online for 120 hours! The hunt begins Oct 2.

BLUE 2018 (1)

Go to the YA Scavenger Hunt page to find out all about the hunt. There are SEVEN contests going on simultaneously, and you can enter one or all! I am a part of the BLUE TEAM.

If you’d like to find out more about the hunt, see links to all the authors participating, and see the full list of prizes up for grabs, go to the YA Scavenger Hunt page.

Directions: Below, you’ll notice that I’ve listed my favorite number. Collect the favorite numbers of all the authors on the blue team, and then add them up (don’t worry, you can use a calculator!).
Hint: My secret number is highlighted in Blue.
Entry Form: Once you’ve added up all the numbers, make sure you fill out the form here to officially qualify for the grand prize. Only entries that have the correct number will qualify.
Rules: Open internationally, anyone below the age of 18 should have a parent or guardian’s permission to enter. To be eligible for the grand prize, you must submit the completed entry form by DATE, at noon Pacific Time. Entries sent without the correct number or without contact information will not be considered.


I’m super excited to be hosting Ginger Scott!
About Ginger Scott
Ginger Scott is an Amazon-bestselling and Goodreads Choice
Award-nominated author from Peoria, Arizona. She is the author of
several young and new adult romances, including recent bestsellers The
Hard Count, A Boy Like You, This Is Falling and Cry Baby.A sucker for a good romance, Ginger’s other passion is sports, and she
often blends the two in her stories. She has been writing and editing
for newspapers, magazines and blogs for years and has told the stories
of Olympians, politicians, actors, scientists, cowboys, criminals and
towns. For more on her and her work, visit her website at
When she’s not writing, the odds are high that she’s somewhere near a
baseball diamond, either watching her son field pop flies like Bryce
Harper or cheering on her favorite baseball team, the Arizona
Diamondbacks. Ginger lives in Arizona and is married to her college
sweetheart whom she met at ASU (fork ’em, Devils).


About Cry Baby by Ginger Scott
Tristan Lopez is loyal to his brothers. He doesn’t really have a choice,
born into a gang that has a chokehold on every kid that roams its
streets. He gave his life to them willingly, knowing if he did then one
day this kingdom, led by boys drunk with power and ruled by fear, would
all be his.He was loyal through it all. Loyal when prison took his dad away. Loyal
when his face was touched by the cold metal of the rival gang’s gun.
Loyal even though his mom begged him to run the moment she returned home
from rehab.He thought about becoming someone else. It was hard not to crave the
life of a regular 17-year-old. It’s the only reason he stayed in
school—to pretend. But he always fell back in line.Loyal.Riley Rojas didn’t belong in Tristan’s real world. She should have only
been part of the fantasy, one of the many faces he got to pretend with
amidst rows of metal chairs and desks and whiteboards with assignments.
But there she was, moving boxes from the back of an old pick-up into a
house Tristan had shot up on a dare with his friends only a few months
before.Tall enough to look him in the eyes and strong enough to fill his
shadow, Riley took up space on his streets, her loud mouth fearless in
the face of the gang leaders who terrified everyone else. She pushed
Tristan around on the hard court, and she balled better than his
friends—better than him sometimes. She challenged him. She needed him.
He liked it. And when her pale blue eyes stared into his, he quit
wanting to pretend.

He couldn’t ask her to leave because she’d only dig her heels in deeper.
He couldn’t ask because he didn’t want her to go. She was blurring his
lines. She was testing his loyalty.

He was falling in love.

And it was going to tear him apart.

Now its time for the exclusive content!!!!

Playlist to accompany Cry Baby
Stream from Spotify here –
https://nam04.safelinks.protection.outlook.com/?url=https%3A%2F%2Fopen.spotify.com%2Fuser%2Fthegingerscott%2Fplaylist%2F2JI0TaECnYdiV6KPRv22Lh%3Fsi%3D8XJQYU2VRdeaT0vN0uo27Q&data=02%7C01%7C%7C98aeb6a6ccbd4c4bf37f08d62245b276%7C84df9e7fe9f640afb435aaaaaaaaaaaa%7C1%7C0%7C636734080090554031&sdata=SbgwHmfAschCDE4jPzs6XXVz2oplBiB950o4gS%2F1VmA%3D&reserved=0A Gamble for a Rose by King Charles
Home by Field Report
FortyFive by Bootstraps
We Can Always Come Back to This by Brian Tyree Henry
Carry Me Away by King Charles
Destroyer by Panama
J-Boy by Phoenix
Land of the Living by Matthew Perryman Jones
Looking for Knives by DYAN
Pieces by Andrew Belle
Loveless by Lo Moon
Wild Moan by Bootstraps
Dark Matter by Andrew Belle
Drifting by On An On
Reminders, Defeats by Jesse Merchant
Fake Roses by The Lone Bellow
Sedona by Houndmouth
I Wanna Be Your Man by Yukon Blonde
The Enemy by Andrew Belle
Choke by King Charles
Bow and Arrow by Reuben And The Dark
Friend of the Devil by Mumford & SonsInspiration behind the story
A Gang Member and A Love StoryI’d like to share a little bit about Cry Baby with you. More pointedly,
I’d like to tell you a little bit about my process writing this book.
Where the genesis of it came from, where I drew inspiration and scenes,
and a little bit about my old neighborhood.I had the idea for Cry Baby a little over a year ago. It was sparked by
a few things. Like a lot of themes I write into my fiction, some great
reporting inspired me here. I was listening to an in-depth piece on NPR
about a kid who had to run home after school and hide in his apartment
because he was avoiding joining the gang that ravaged his neighborhood.
If they saw you, and you were male and of the right age, you were in. It
was that simple. Or rather, that complex and horrifying. He couldn’t
hide at school, so he survived the torment there. I think about that boy
and his story often, wondering if he made it out alive, or if he was
sucked in.The rest of my inspiration came from my world. I have this recurring
dream, and I had just had it for the first time in years right before I
started this book–it had maybe been a decade. Fair warning, my dreams
are a lot like my books sometimes, minus the HEA. The dream always goes
like this: Me and my dad are pulling out of a gas station that vaguely
resembles the one on the corner of the main street in my old
neighborhood. I’m always a young teen girl, twelve or thirteen, and my
dad is always in his forties. It flips to slow-motion, and both my dad
and I see a car slow down and begin to turn into the gas station, the
passenger-side windows facing us and two men leaning out the windows
with guns turned to the side and ready to fire. We’re just in the way,
but it doesn’t matter. They begin to shoot. Glass shatters. Sometimes my
dad is hit in his arm or his chest. He’s never killed, but we’re always
both terrified. He pulls me down and ducks above me, shouting at me to
push the gas because for some reason he’s no longer able. I always push
it with my hand while he turns the wheel, and sometimes I can feel our
car dip into the gutter and level out on the road back home. Sometimes
we crash. Sometimes, we just keep turning and driving, in circles while
bullets pierce our car. It goes on like this until I wake up.

It’s always the same dream. But this last time I woke up with a strange
feeling. I used to write the dream off to things I heard about at
school, to the gun shot sounds we could hear at night sometimes, or to
the boys I watched grow up in grade school only to read about their
incarceration or tragic death in high school or after graduation. This
time, though, I woke up thinking about Tristan. He had a name. He had a
backstory, and a tragic existence. He was trapped in the same dream I
was, and he was loud and demanding. His prologue flew out in minutes.
The rest of his story would take a lot longer.

I ruminated about Cry Baby for months, while I worked on other projects.
I began to save stories about MS13, the gang that’s made a lot of news
over the last few years. It’s become a political spotlight, of sorts.
The saddest part to me, though, is the kids the gang members all start
out as.

Kids like Tristan.

I began researching MS13 cases, and digging into old Bloods and Crips
articles. Some of the stories truly broke my heart, and every single
time, I thought about the young kids who didn’t have a choice. Choice is
tricky. If you’re only shown one thing when you’re young, it’s hard to
realize you have one. It’s harder still when you know that not falling
in line might mean torture and death.

This book is one of my greatest accomplishments. It was tough to write.
Honesty is that way, I think. I didn’t sugarcoat things. I gave my
readers the real world that some have to survive, and that others fall
to. I also hope I gave you characters to love, to root for, and to want
in your lives. Maybe people we all wish we were a little bit like, too.

If you have read the book, I hope you enjoyed it. And if not, I hope
you’ll give it a try. I wrote this for you feel it in your bones and let
it simmer in your soul. I hope it hits you like that NPR story hit me,
and I hope we all think about the ways we’re lucky for just a little
while, even though there are often ways we aren’t.

And yes, the kissy parts are pretty fantastic, too. 😉

Until next time.


Twitter https://twitter.com/thegingerscott




Thanks for visiting!

I could’ve listened to that playlist 17 times!

Don’t forget to enter my giveaway. One lucky winner will receive a signed copy of QUANTUM, a cashmere scarf, a “Remove Before Flight key chain,  an oak leaf pendant, bookmarks and a sticker.

giveaway 1


To keep going on your quest for the hunt, you need to check out the next author, Kristin Smith!



Pitch Wars Bio

Pitch Wars time again! So excited! I cant wait to get to know you all! After the contest, lets all get together and unwind.


This amazing community of writers is THE best reason to participate. THE BEST. Even if I don’t get picked as a mentee, I know that I will get to make connections that will last throughout the journey that we are all on together. I couldn’t do this if it weren’t for the people I’ve already connected with who cheer me on when I need it most. (You know who you are)


A little about my MS.I don’t tend to read sci-fi, so even I was surprised when I wrote something that technically has to be categorized as such. If you are looking for light sci-fi, speculative fiction with romance, then look no further!

Want a strong female who is breaking gender defined goals?

Diverse characters?

Multicultural characters and settings?

Parallel timelines?

Love letters?

My MS isn’t exactly time travel, but if that is something you’re looking for, you may find my concept unique.

I’m willing to work as hard as I need to get this book where it needs to go. Please help.



Now, for the non-writing stuff—


On my twitter bio, it says that I am a full time cruise ship director. I’m really not, although that could be fun. Just like my MC, I am actually a pilot. Except that I do it for a living. Writing is an escape. I’m hoping that someday it’s the other way around. I do wrangle my two kids, plus all of the neighborhood kids that hang at our house. Our street is like stepping back in time to a place where kids ride bikes and collect bugs, and they don’t watch TV because they would rather play outside. It’s awesome. My husband and I are so lucky.

I went through a phase where I thought chocolate covered cranberries were the only food to eat while writing. So bad. Thank goodness I started growing cherry tomatoes. I’ll never stop eating chocolate though.

Obviously I love reading and writing, or I wouldn’t be here. In addition to that, I love traveling, flying, sarcasm, soaking up the sun, and being with my family (especially at home in our backyard).


If you have questions, just ask. You can find me on Twitter @roxannelambie

Son of a Pitch

Age and Genre: YA SF
Word Count: 65,000


Seventeen-year-old student pilot, Willow Ryan, can be in two places at once, but she only gets to keep one set of memories.

While on a solo flight, she is instantly transported from Texas to Ireland where she meets a true gentleman—the stunning Irish local, Liam Tyl. During her visits, he tries to help her unravel the mystery of how she appears and disappears, but their time together is always short lived.

At home, she has no memory of Liam or her time in Ireland. There are chunks of time that she can’t account for—moments with her friends and family. Most importantly, time with her ailing Mom that can’t be replaced.

Liam reaches out to her through letters, and they discover that there may be two versions of Willow. Now she must learn how to navigate between her two realities without losing the new love in her life or her family back home.

QUANTUM, a stand-alone Young Adult science fiction romance with series potential, is complete at 65,000 words.

First 250 Words:

It was impossible not to be smiling on my way out to the plane. November-Eight-Niner-Zero-Romeo-Golf, sat there peacefully on the ramp, almost as if it had a personality all its own. The airplane looked ready to take to the skies. The wind was barely blowing, which was a bit of a rarity in west Texas this time of year, and the sky looked perfect. It was almost as if it was calling my name, and I couldn’t wait to get in the air.

I performed my preflight with practiced ease and ordered fuel. Once the fueling was done, I climbed into the small, four seater Cessna. Then I started up the engine, got my clearance to taxi and headed off the ramp on my long trek to the end of the runway.

A few minutes later, one final check before takeoff.  Flaps—Up, Trim—Set, Carburetor Heat—Cold, Mixture—Rich. Everything was set. I pushed the throttle all the way to full. After only a few seconds, the airplane lifted off the ground, and the magic of the air beneath its wings made my heart pump faster. The airplane flew with such little effort on my part. How did this hunk of metal actually fly? The physics of flight amazed me. I glanced from the instruments on the panel, to outside where I was merely feet off the ground. Ah—to be a bird, and be able to do this anytime. That would be incredible.

TOUCHING FATE by Brenda Drake

touching fate


Aster Layne believes in physics, not psychics. A tarot card reading on the Ocean City Boardwalk should have been a ridiculous, just-for-fun thing. It wasn’t. Aster discovers she has a very unscientific gift—with a simple touch of the cards, she can change a person’s fate.

Reese Van Buren is cursed. Like the kind of old-school, centuries-old curse that runs in royal families. Every firstborn son is doomed to die on his eighteenth birthday—and Reese’s is coming up fast. Bummer. He tries to distract himself from his inevitable death…only to find the one person who can save him.

Aster doesn’t know that the hot Dutch guy she’s just met needs her help–or that he’s about to die.

But worst of all…she doesn’t know that her new gift comes with dark, dark consequences that can harm everyone she loves.

Amazon — Barnes and Noble — Goodreads

Read an Excerpt:

The spell was broken when some partiers ran up the beach screaming and laughing. Aster turned in the direction of the noise and spotted Reese standing there. He waved. A moronic move, he reprimanded himself. Strolling up the beach James Bond-style would have been better, but instead, struggling in the sand, he headed for her. He decided if she moved toward him as well, it would be proof that she was attracted to him. Aster spun around and faced the ocean again.

Reese stopped. She was still angry with him. Just when he made up his mind to leave her alone, she started down the beach toward him.

“Hi,” she said, staring up at him. The golden specks in her eyes were like stardust glinting in the low-lying sun.

“What are you doing here?”

“Leah invited Jan, and he brought me along.”

“I see.”

“Well, I didn’t put up a struggle. I have to admit, I was hoping to see you.” He held out the aster. “This is for you. A peace offering. One simple flower can mean so much more than a bunch, don’t you agree?”

A shocked expression crossed her face, and Reese thought he had blown it. But then she gave him a sweet smile and took the flower from him. “Stolen ones are even better.”

“Well, in all honesty, it was a spur-of-the-moment decision. A gentleman doesn’t court a lady without bringing a gift.”

“So you’re courting me?” She tried unsuccessfully not to smile. It was rather fetching, her pink glossed lips twitching at the effort. “You don’t even know anything about me.”

“Well, that is the point of dating, isn’t it? To get to know each other?”

“I’m not sure.”

When the silence between them got uncomfortable, she lowered her head and picked at the stem of the flower.

“Not sure, huh?” This girl was a hard nut to crack. Reese got an idea. “How about we play a game?”

She looked back up at him. “What kind of game?”

“One where I tell you something about me, then you tell me something about yourself.”

“Sure, why not?” She twirled around and padded across the beach, lifting up sand with her toes and flicking it into the air in front of her. “You go first.”

“All right, then,” he said, keeping pace with her. “My family lives in a castle just outside of Amsterdam, complete with towers and turrets. It’s been in the family for generations. We only live in a few rooms. The rest of the place is open for tours. It helps pay for the upkeep and taxes.”

“Really?” She knotted her fingers behind her back. “Does that mean you’re royal?”

“No. But my father is a count.” He hated talking about his lineage. “It’s just a title,” he said, as if it wasn’t a big deal, which it wasn’t, at least to him.

“That’s pretty awesome,” she said.

“Now you.”

touching fate


Amazon — Barnes and Noble — Goodreads