Kingsley is eco-fiction. But the feelings are real.
I began writing Kingsley when my son was a young teenager, about the same age as Kingsley Smith, the main character of my novel. I worried about the destruction pollution was wreaking on just about everything my family touched: our food, our water, even our air. It was important to me to be part of the solution. To be one of the voices working to save our world.
Fiction makes a difference. Fiction. Makes. A Difference. I wrote a novel about pollution-induced Y-chromosome epidemic. I told it through the eyes of an ordinary 14-year-old boy, Kingsley Smith, who loves video games and girl named Amanda. I wrestled with the choices he faced as he watched those around him stricken with a horrible disease - then began to witness the symptoms in himself. And I wrote about the lengths a mother would go to to save her son. Even as the planet braces for a world without men, the women in his life refuse to give up... but can they save Kingsley? Can he save himself?
You can get my novel Kingsley in lots of different forms:
- $8 eBook
- $18 Paperback
- $28 Signed Paperback
- $40 - the best deal! - two signed Paperbacks
I'm proud to be a part of the Don't Chuck That Shuck program. For Charlottesville area folks, come with me on a fun and educational field trip that helps save the Chesapeake Bay watershed - and get a signed copy of Kingsley!
For those looking for the chance to enjoy time with the author and receive Producer or Executive Producer credits in Kingsley, there are some very special limited edition rewards for VIPs.
The Producer Brunch is a popular reward! I'm looking forward to having my generous backers over to my home for a locally sourced, organic brunch among kindred spirits who love central Virginia and the Chesapeake.
I'm also excited to share lunch with my Executive Producers at local restaurant Hamilton's - a big supporter of delicious local produce and meats. After we get our major workout at the ACAC, of course!
And, a big thank you to my early birds who sold out the ARC of Kingsley!
Writing a book is the work of one person, but publishing a book is a team effort. I am raising funds to pay the wonderful professionals who do things both exciting and mundane, such as:
- Editing & copyediting
- Cover design
- Book design
- File formatting for print and digital versions
- And even the creation of this Kickstarter campaign!
When you click the green button at the top of this page that says "Back This Project", you'll be joining over 7 million people who have backed books and other projects on this site.
A lot of people get confused about this... but you do NOT need Facebook to pledge to Kinglsey. After you pick your reward, you'll be asked to sign in, and it will look something like this:
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- Share my campaign on your Facebook and Twitter
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- Friends, thank you so much for taking the time to read through my campaign and learn about my eco-thriller, Kingsley. As a measure of my gratitude, I'm thrilled to share with you a sneak peak of the story below. I couldn't have made it this far without so many of you - you know who you are. Thank you for helping to send Kingsley out into the world.
All my best,
Barely half a mile onto the bridge, traffic came to a stop. Kingsley saw movement in the car ahead of them. The driver’s door opened and a man staggered out. The man pulled a limp boy from the back seat. Diagonal rain pushed against the two of them, man and boy, as the man carried the boy to the edge of the bridge.
“What’s he doing?” Amanda said. The man stood at the edge, drenched, the boy in his arms. “Oh My God! He’s going to jump!” Amanda pushed the car door open, struggling against the wind. She ran to the man. “Stop! Stop!”
“Amanda!” Kingsley yelled. “Get back in the car!” He wiped the fog from the windshield. He could see Amanda pleading with the man but couldn’t hear her over the thunder and the pounding rain.
Kingsley hesitated, not knowing what to do. He was afraid of the hurricane. He was afraid of the lightning and thunder. He got out of the car and slipped on the wet, oily bridge, cutting his hand. He scrambled to his feet. His head ached and didn’t have his pain medicine. He could hear Amanda begging the man to move away from the edge.
The man climbed over the concrete barrier, the child still in his arms. “My son. My only son. I couldn’t save him.” Waves reached up and the man and the boy disappeared into the black harbor. Amanda screamed and lunged for the man. Kingsley grabbed her before she went over, too.
“They’re gone,” he shouted, holding her around her waist.
They hurried back to the car, soaked and trembling, blood dripping from Kingsley’s injured hand. “Why would he do that?” she sobbed. “Why would he give up?”
Kingsley knew why. He felt like giving up, too. He understood hopelessness and the longing to turn back time. He leaned forward, his head against the steering wheel, and waited for the hurricane to pass.
It was after midnight when the lightning moved north and the thunder hushed. No stars were in the sky, only the dull, waxing moon. Car doors opened and stunned passengers snaked around the cars and trucks. Amanda lowered her window and called to a woman dressed in a business suit. “Have you seen the police? Do you know what’s causing the hold up?”
The businesswoman shook her head. “Haven’t got a clue.” She pulled out her cell phone. “No signal, either. I’m going to the tunnel. Maybe someone there can help. I have to get away from that nut on the Viper. Too many weird things are happening and he’s scaring the hell out of me.”
Several yards away a man with dreadlocks stood on the hood of a small green car.
“The Lord has hardened your hearts! The destroyer has entered your houses! And there was a great cry in Egypt, for there was not a house where one was not dead.”
Kingsley got out and scanned the illness surrounding him. In the minivan in the next lane, a teenage girl was shaking a teenage boy slumped over the steering wheel. In front of the minivan, a truck driver opened the door of his cab and vomited.
The screaming prophet waved his arms to the heavens.
“And the Egyptians were urgent with the people, to send them out of the land in haste; for they said ‘We are all dead men.’”
Amanda got out of the car and drew close. “I’m scared.”
“Me, too,” Kingsley choked, trying to hold back tears. “My head hurts and I forgot my medicine. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Amanda said. She followed the businesswoman.
“Where are you going?” All Kingsley wanted at that moment was to curl up in the back seat and go to sleep.
“To the tunnel,” Amanda said.
“You’re going to walk?”
“That’s crazy. The police’ll be here soon.”
“The police aren’t coming, Kingsley,” Amanda said. “Look around. Who do you see walking? Women! All the men are sick or dead. We’re on our own, Kingsley. We have to get off this bridge. What if the hurricane returns? This could be the eye of the storm. It could get worse. We’ll be safer in the tunnel.”
Risks and challenges
Publishing a novel takes a team, and tools. There is always the possibility that one of my team members, like my editor or designer, may not be available. And the tools for publishing books, like iTunes, Kindle, CreateSpace, and Lightning Source, are changing all the time. Publishing is in flux, and the unforeseen is always a possibility! But rest assured, one way or another, I will make sure that I see Kingsley's way into the world and into your hands.Learn about accountability on Kickstarter
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