I
AM PLEASED TO WELCOME AUTHOR
Kimberley
Nadine Knights
AUTHOR BIO:
Kimberley Nadine Knights knew when she kept willingly opting out of
parties so she could stay home and write, that she was destined to be an
author.
Born and raised in the tropical twin islands of Trinidad & Tobago,
when this Caribbean girl isn’t creating new plotlines for her ever growing
lineup of fictional characters, she spends her time strumming her guitar to
indie rock songs and snapping once in a lifetime photos halfway across the
globe in countries such as Estonia, Finland, Sweden, Denmark and France.
She's an avid fan of The Walking Dead series and firmly believes that The
Food Network should consider her being a judge on the next Chopped challenge.
The Cilantro in Apple Pie is her debut novel.
BANTER – STUFF ABOUT YOU
Q: Are you a morning person, or a midnight candle burner?
A: Definitely a
midnight candle burner. I always tell people I’d probably have fun being a
night guard at a mall or something. All fun things happen in the p.m (literally
& metaphorically) ;)
Q: Tell me something
you would like your readers (fans) to know about you.
A: I’m sociable but I
always breathe a sigh of relief when I finally get home. I guess that’ll make
me an introvert? Lol I don’t know.
Q: Dress up or dress
down?
A: Dress all the
wayyyyy downnnnnnn. I’m a flip flop addict and I firmly believe that the Nike
shorts & graphic tee combination is my uniform. Not even kidding.
#probablyneverbeinvitedtotheoscars
Q: Dine in or dine
out?
A: I love the feel of
restaurants. I don’t know if it’s the mixture of air-conditioning, menus and
overly decorated plates of food that gets me all fired up, but dining out is a
high for me.
Q: How do you feel
about exercise?
A: A cruel form of
mind-wash used to fool people into thinking that it’s good for your health…
BOOKS – ABOUT THE CRAFT
Q: When did you start writing and why?
A: I started writing
when I was 10 because life was just so blah. When you write, you have the power
to make a 16 foot purple dragon come to life with the use of words. Other than
the obvious fact that dragons don’t exist, at 10 I didn’t think a purple dragon
would be friends with me in the real world…he would just eat me and burp. So of
course, I had to be a writer.
Q: What do you think
is the hardest part of writing a book?
A: Constantly staying
in the moment. At the beginning your idea is the best thing since sliced bread.
You want to sing it from the rooftop, you dream about it, you can’t wait to
write certain scenes. But then slowly the hype fades. For example, you’re
usually beyond excited when you get a brand new car, but then a year later…
it’s just a car.
Q: How do you handle
a writer's block?
A: I jump to another
idea and start writing that book. Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
Q: When crafting the
story do you go from beginning to end, or do you jump around writing the scenes
that are pushing themselves forward in your brain?
A: Beginning to end.
This is probably the only structure I have. I have this whiteboard where I map
out each chapter point by point. Of course things might change as I go along
and ideas pop into my head – but I never write Chapter 18 first then write
Chapter 1,2 & 3.
BOOKS - NOW LETS PROMOTE – STRUT YOUR STUFF
Q: What are you working on now? Would you like to share anything about it?
A: I’m working on the
sequel to The Cilantro in Apple Pie (it’s a trilogy). All I can share is that
it’s going to be 10 times more exciting than the 1st book.
Q: Do you have a new
book coming out soon? Tell us about it.
A: The sequel should
be ready by late 2017
Q: How can we find
you? Do you have a web page, FaceBook page or any buy links?
A: Yes, I do. Here are the links.
AUTHOR LINKS:
https://twitter.com/Knightsley
BUY LINKS:
AMAZON US: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01COV4PF8 AMAZON UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B01COV4PF8
AMAZON CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B01COV4PF8
BARNES & NOBLE: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-cilantro-in-apple-pie-kimberley-nadine-knights/1123499602;jsessionid=3AE88D5AF941EC707DF6FE5AB19E2F2B.prodny_store01-atgap09?ean=2940152855371
KOBO: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/the-cilantro-in-apple-pie
GOOGLE PLAY: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Kimberley_Nadine_Knights_The_Cilantro_in_Apple_Pie?id=IeyyCwAAQBAJ&hl=en
iBOOKS: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1091269373
CREATESPACE: https://www.createspace.com/6109331
Book Trailer :https://youtu.be/63-D_XTLAqc
TITLE: The
Cilantro in Apple Pie
RELEASE DATE: May
5, 2016
AUTHOR: Kimberley
Nadine Knights
PAGE COUNT: 310
ISBN: 978-0692657027
IMPRINT: Howling Wolf
KEYWORDS: coming
of age, young adult, contemporary, romance, new adult, high school, suspense
CATEGORIES:
Contemporary Young/New Adult
ONE LINER:
“Sometimes the oddest of flavors create the sweetest of bonds.”
SYNOPSIS:
Fragnut.
Confused? Well so is everyone else at Lumiere Hall Prep when sixteen-year-old
Rubie Keane rolls in from Trinidad and Tobago talking her weird lingo. Not that
she minds the culture confusion; she's determined to leave the past behind her
and be overlooked—but a certain stoic blue blood is equally as determined to
foil her plans.
Gil Stromeyer's
offbeat personality initially makes Rubie second-guess his sanity, but she
suspects his erratic outbursts of violence mask a deeper issue in his troubled,
charmed life. Despite his disturbing behavior, a gradual bond forms between the
two. However, on the night of the annual Stromeyer gala, events unfold that
leave Rubie stripped of her dignity and kick Gil's already fragile world off
its axis.
Both their well-kept
secrets are uncovered, but Gil's revelation proves that sometimes the best
remedy for a bad case of lost identity, is a dash of comradery from an ally
packed with flavor.
Excerpt:
“Aw man, that was sweet!” a
voice boomed from the other side of the garden.
I looked up to see a group of
junior coeds by a table talking and laughing loudly, but it was obvious that
only one boy in particular—the one with the neatly cut wheat-blond hair—was the
center of attention.
His blazer was flung on the grass,
his shirttails hung out of his khaki pants, and his tie was sloppily draped
around his neck. However, despite his ragamuffin
attire, he still looked like the late Paul Walker’s younger protégé—circa
the first Fast and Furious movie.
When he laughed, the rest of
them followed suit.
When he started jumping around
imitating an ape, his clones snickered hysterically and threw what seemed to be
pieces of chocolate at him in praise.
“They make me sick.”
My head whipped around to see a
boy well over six feet, with dark hair and intense eyes, step out from behind
the tree with his hands shoved deep into his pants pockets.
I shielded my eyes from the sun
and looked up at him from where I sat. “Excuse me?”
“Them—over there,” he half
snarled, his voice cold and void of emotion. “They think they own the
universe.”
I glanced over at the raucous
group once again and frowned. “And…they are?”
“Reed Stromeyer and his
mindless minions,” he replied grimly.
Oh yeah…that title fitted him
perfectly.
Another loud squeal of delight
reverberated off the acoustics of the quad’s stony frame.
“Is Reed the boy giving that
girl a piggy-back ride?” I asked dryly, watching as he galloped with the
capricious brunette who held on to his shoulders for dear life.
The boy next to me nodded.
“Aren’t rich kids the worst?” He peered down at me, apparently waiting for an
actual answer to his rhetorical question.
“Um, yeah…sure,” I said, trying
to be agreeable so he would walk away.
He continued to glare at me as
if what I’d said wasn’t quite enough for him. “All that money and not a dime’s
worth of brain. You’re Rubie Keane, aren’t you?”
“Yes, and you’re…”
“Gil,” he said curtly, cutting
off the possibility of further probing on my behalf. “So you agree, then?”
“A-agree with what?”
“That the rich suck.”
“Oh.” Did I miss him asking me
if rich people sucked? “Well…I guess so. They get everything they want so
easily.” The sentence hung in the air like a question. “They don’t really have
to work for anything.”
I found it unnerving when he kept staring at
me a good while after I’d responded—a glare that made me feel like he was
trying to laser burn an inscription into my skull.
“No, they don’t,” he mumbled,
sounding a bit disillusioned.
I frowned again then tried to
smile through my confusion. “But this school’s full of ‘em, right? So I guess
you’re used to it.”
He glanced at his wristwatch,
simultaneously distracted and irritated. “I’m definitely used to it,” he said
darkly. “I have to go.”
“Okay,” I said, puzzled as I
watched him walk away the same way he’d appeared.
With his hands shoved deep into
his pockets.
I shrugged and faced forward
again, only to see the same group of junior girls staring at me and whispering
to each other behind cupped hands.
My strange encounter with the
freakishly tall boy was still on my mind when the last bell of the day rang
that afternoon, but overall it was a good day, free from any more conversations
instigated by students. Plus Dennis was picking me up after school, so that
made the day even better.
As much as I was okay with
taking the bus, I eagerly welcomed the change in transportation since sometimes
that vehicle only succeeded in returning me home with a full-blown migraine.
It smelled like gasoline,
inside and out, and on most days
passengers bounced up and down on the ripped ochre-colored upholstery like
unwilling pieces of a tossed salad. Shocks were definitely an afterthought for
that yellow death trap on wheels, and I wondered how a supposed Ivy League prep
school could’ve put such a guaranteed future lawsuit on their payroll.
At three I made my way to the
drop-off, parked myself on one of the concrete benches, and pulled out A Brighter Sun again.
The book was really picking up,
and that was probably why I hadn’t noticed the minutes fly by. The next time I
glanced down at my watch, it was three forty-five.
Where was Dennis? He wasn’t the
type to be late.
Punctuality, believe it or not,
was one of the many reasons he’d fallen head over heels for my sister, who
coincidentally had an equally anal obsession with time management.
Since we’d been busy unpacking
boxes earlier in the week, they hadn’t had a chance to organize a cell phone
for me, so my only option was to head back to the office and ask to use their
phone.
Ten. I’d give him ten more
minutes, I reasoned.
I actually ended up giving him
twenty-five more minutes, and that was when the slight panic started to set in.
What if something had happened
and they couldn’t get a hold of me?
What if something had happened
to my parents?
On that last thought, I jumped
up from the bench and started running toward the school.
“Rubie?”
The voice had me skidding to a
stop, the heel of my shoe making a deep indent in the semi-damp lawn as I
halted off balance. Spinning around, I saw a well-built man briskly jogging toward
me. His eyes were hidden by a navy-blue baseball cap and there was enough
stubble on his face for it to be defined as a beard.
My female instincts immediately
kicked into overdrive, and I quickly fished out the ballpoint pen that was in
my sweater pocket. I didn’t know many people in Mellowbrook, let alone the
neighboring town of Salmery, so I had no idea who’d be yelling out my name
besides family.
“Are you Rubie Keane?” he asked
as he got closer to me.
I stepped back and raised the
pen over my head to show him that I meant business.
This time he screeched to a stop, holding up both his hands, palms facing
out. “Whoa. Okay, wait…I’m not going to hur—”
“Who are you?” I demanded,
steadying my hand in case I needed to drive my makeshift weapon through his
eye. “How do you know my name?”
He took a deep breath and
flashed me the kindest smile that could’ve ever come from a man with such a
forebodingly rugged appearance. “Let’s start over, shall we?” he drawled
cautiously. “My name’s Ben Catelloni. I know Dennis.”
My forehead creased tentatively
as I took another jerky step back. “That doesn’t prove anything.” A lot of
people knew Dennis—he was a real estate agent, and he gave out calling cards
all the time. Anyone could’ve just thrown his name out there.
The man’s smile widened, a low,
raspy chuckle escaping his lips as he shook his head. “I didn’t believe him
when he said I’d have to do the three steps of trust.”
I relaxed a fraction when I
heard the scruffy stranger say those familiar words, but I kept my pen hand
raised. “Well…”
“Can I get the IDs from my
pocket?” he asked with care. “Or are you going to assault me with that…Bic.”
After giving him the once-over
one last time, I nodded for him to proceed.
“Dennis’s driver’s license and
his work identity badge,” he said, pulling them out one by one from his jeans
pocket.
I leaned in closer, ever so
often eyeing him to make sure he wasn’t about to jump me, and checked the
identification for myself.
Name: Dennis Zachary Peterson
Height: 5’10”
Weight: 195 lbs
DOB: 02-01-1978
Okay, the IDs were good, but
there was one last thing…
“The password is…I’m not sure
if I’m saying this right, but…” He paused then spoke slowly, “Crapaud smoke
your pipe?”
Alright. He was legit.
I’m happy you could
join me on Books and Banter. I hope you
had fun.
A
reminder to the reader ~ before you leave be sure to take a look at the
Come
back and visit again.
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