When I revealed to others that I taught middle school, they would give me this almost pitying look. I’d let them know that I really liked it. Those early teen years can be lots of fun. This is when kids start to come into their own. They gain the capacity to think, feel and understand like an adult. We were able to connect through similar interests in music, movies, tv, etc…
After my YA title, Struck by Conscience released from Whimsical Publications, I knew I was going to have to market it differently than I had with my other romance books and stories. It had been a few years since I taught in the traditional classroom, but I still had a few contacts. I used those contacts to network with teenagers.
I sent the story out to be reviewed by a few teen readers and in exchange they posted their reviews on Amazon, their social networks, and talked it up with their friends. I didn’t know when I started this venture if it would work, but I figured what could it hurt? It’s been fun connecting with teenagers again and seeing that we still like the same music. And more than that—they really liked the book.
I’ve also started a Teen Fiction blog and I hope to get some teen readers over there as well as have teens start posting articles on topics of their choice. If anyone is interested in being a contributor just send me an email.
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Here are a couple teen reviews of Struck by Conscience:
C.K. Green did an amazing job with this book. The storyline is flawless. It was cute, and romantic, without being too sappy, and it had a little humor thrown in there. I loved the characters. They were all very relatable, and they had realistic personalities. This book was great, and I would definitely recommend it. ~ Kate
When I first read “Struck by Conscience” I thought it would be just another teen book about a girl trying to decide between two guys she really likes. But this book surprised me by being more than that. While I read it, it was like I was Charisma saying goodbye to my Dahlia and hello to a whole new stage of life. This book made me chuckle, cry, and smile so big. I desperately wanted to be Charisma so I could be with Heath. That is how real he was for me. Cindy creates characters you fall in love with. As with a few of the other books I’ve read from Cindy, she always manages to squeeze in references to her love of classic literature. In this book its Wuthering Heights
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Blurb of Struck by Conscience:
I, Charisma Mansfield, do solemnly swear that... I never asked to be popular. I never asked to be voted Prom Queen. I definitely never asked to have an invisible pixie perched on my shoulder whispering her opinions into my ear 24/7. But of all the things I never asked for, this is the worst one yet—when brooding but gorgeous Heath Ruvelas (my next door neighbor and the guy I used to be best friends with before jr. high) rescued me from drowning in the school pool. My already bizarre life would never be the same.
Excerpt:
There was something mesmerizing about the way Heath moved. Spiritual almost. Like a dance. He was one with his sword, and I couldn’t look away even though it felt wrong to keep watching. This wasn’t something he’d want observed. Heath was private even if he was an actor. He could perform before an audience and then he needed his privacy. I envied him for that.
Rarely did I ever have any solitude. What was I saying? This was the first time in the history of my memory that I’d been without Dahlia. She would definitely have scolded me for staying here and watching.
Muscles contracted in Heath’s back as he stretched his arm out and prepared to attack. En Garde and all that. Moonlight shimmered off his perfect, olive skin. He swished the blade and his graceful movements nearly took my breath away. Who knew Heath Ruvelas hid such a sculpted body under the Stanbridge school uniform. He was beautiful. Yeah, he was one-hundred percent Greek male. Now I understood those Grecian statues. They weren’t kidding; a work of art.
While trying to gain a better view, I slipped on some rocks near the wall and then crunched down on a couple twigs. Heath swiveled around at the sound and stared at me. The dim light reflected off his deep brown eyes, and I froze in place almost forgetting to breathe.
“I’m sorry,” I finally blurted out.
“No problem…Charisma.” He lobbed my name at me like an insult. Then he laid down his sword, flipped off the music and tossed a t-shirt over his head before heading for the back door to his house.
“Heath, really, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude. You’re just so good. I…I couldn’t look away. It was amazing.”
Dahlia would probably have stopped me from heaving that speech at him. I almost wished she was here. I’d spent my life with her voice in my ear, guiding me, leading me. It was odd not sensing her presence at a moment when I would have enjoyed knowing her opinion, especially with Heath responding like he hated me.
“I’ll go.” I straightened my top, trying to gain courage. That’s when I remembered I was dressed in a pale pink cami with matching shorts which sported the word ‘sweet’ across my backside. Not exactly the attire to meet up with a guy like Heath at midnight. No time to worry about that now.
“I just wanted to say thanks for saving me yesterday.” Something thick lodged in my throat, choking me up. Tears formed in my eyes and a couple slid down my cheeks as I turned from the wall. Why was I crying? Just because Heath treated me like an outcast was no reason to break down like a baby. I made it to the wooden steps leading to the porch when I heard Heath hop the wall and land in my yard.
“I don’t want your thanks, Laney.”
I faced him, my heart picking up rhythm and feeling just a little bit scared at the sight of him—all six feet of him. His dark eyes pulsed in the porch light and stared me down. Every quivering bit of me. And I was quivering. Why was I quivering? It was just Heath. The guy I used to spend the night with in his tree house when we were eight. The one who’d shared his lunch with me when mine had spilt milk all over it. The same guy who’d morphed into a Greek god since the last time I’d noticed. Yeah, like some kind of Adonis. No exaggeration.
Available at Whimsical Publications & Amazon
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C.K. Green is a mother to two boys, a wife to her sweetheart, a teacher to her children and a writer to all who will read. She spends her days cleaning house and teaching school while wondering when her fairy godmother will arrive and return her to her rightful place. Supposedly she was born in __________________________
C.K. Green
Author of the Faery Guardian Series
Book 1: Struck by Conscience—Out Now!
Book 2: Sold My Soul to a Frog—Coming Soon
Book 3: Coming Soon
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