Guest Nose: Aprilynne Pike

Today it’s my pleasure to welcome Aprilynne Pike, debut author of Wings–and I would tell you how much I loved her book, but my teenager swiped it and disappeared with it for hours and hours, emerging starry-eyed only to feed. That’s a pretty high recommendation at my house!

Aprilynne kindly shares one of her beauty Do’s (Or a beauty ouch, if you ask me!)

I have always been a bit of an eyebrow plucker, but in college (yes, it took me that long) I discovered waxing. Ah, it was a glorious day! After trying it on a few less conspicuous areas, I decided to do my eyebrows. I did pretty well, got a nice curved line, but I forgot about gravity. Specifically the force that pulls the melty wax downward and onto your eyelashes. So after I was done waxing my eyebrows I had to get it off of my eyelashes without pulling THEM out! I managed to leave at least half of my eyelashes intact using a bunch of baby oil. From that, I learned to wax whatever else I wanted to, but to get my eyebrows done professionally. 🙂

About Wings

Aprilynne Pike’s WINGS is the first of four books about an ordinary girl named Laurel who discovers she is a faerie sent among humans to guard the gateway to Avalon. When Laurel is thrust into the midst of a centuries-old battle between faeries and trolls, she’s torn between a human and a faerie love, as well as her loyalties to both worlds. To buy your own copy of Wings click here.

About Aprilynne Pike

Aprilynne Pike has been spinning faerie stories since she was a child with a hyper-active imagination. At the age of twenty she received her BA in Creative Writing from Lewis-Clark State College in Lewiston, Idaho. When not writing, Aprilynne can usually be found at the gym; she also enjoys singing, acting, reading, and working with pregnant moms as a childbirth educator and doula. Aprilynne currently lives with her husband and three kids in Utah, and dreams of warmer climates. To find out more about Aprilynne see

Guest Nose: Carrie Ryan

One of the things I loved about writing in the world of The Forest of Hands and Teeth is that they’re so obsessed with surviving that they don’t have any time to focus on looks which is kind of nice. There are definitely times I wish our world were like that!
Oh, the things I’ve done in the name of beauty! I’ve wrapped my hair around empty coke cans to try to tame the frizz. I’ve sat in my office at work refusing to drink water for fear I would have to walk to the bathroom later on painful high heels. I’ve even used tape and saran wrap to help hold things in place for a particularly inventive Halloween outfit!
Then one summer I was in Guatemala on an archeological dig and my hair was at that wrong length. I couldn’t pull it off my neck and it was so so hot! One evening I just took a machete and cut it off–cut it boy short! I think it was in that moment that I realized sometimes worrying about beauty can be a real pain!
About The Forest of Hands and Teeth
The Forest of Hands and Teeth is about a young girl named Mary growing up generations after an apocalypse in a village surrounded by fences protecting them from the Unconsecrated, zombie-like creatures inhabiting the Forest of Hands and Teeth. Cut off from the rest of the world and told they are the last survivors of the Return, every part of her life is controlled by the religious order called the Sisterhood. As Mary starts to fall in love with someone she shouldn’t, she learns the extent of the Sisterhood’s power and starts to discover more of their darkest secrets. When the security of the fences is threatened and her world is thrown into chaos, Mary must decide what she’s willing to risk to find out if there’s life beyond the Forest. Buy the book on Amazon here. Or support your favorite independent store here.
About Carrie Ryan
Born and raised in Greenville, South Carolina, Carrie Ryan is a graduate of Williams College and Duke University School of Law. A former litigator, she now writes full time. She lives with her writer/lawyer fiance, two fat cats and one large puppy in Charlotte, North Carolina. They are not at all prepared for the zombie apocalypse. Read more about Carrie at

The Padded Bra Story

So, yeah. In 7th grade my “bosom” was more Great Plains  

than Sierra Nevadas. 

I’d been visited by the pimple fairy, the curvy hips fairy, the that-time-of-the-month fairy, the BO fairy, the hairy armpits fairy, but not the boob fairy. And I had PE every day. With boys. Boys with opinions. Boys with loud, obnoxious opinions. About girls. And their boobs or not-so boobs.

So one day I was up in my grandmother’s attic, poking around all her old clothes. She’d gone to fashion design school and had tons of cool shoes, handbags, and amazing clothes. 
I opened a drawer full of lacy underthings–silky slips, weird pantyhose with hooks and straps and stuff, and bras I could only dream of wearing (the boob fairy loved my grandma). But at the bottom of the drawer was a thick padded bra. It was kind of old, maybe a tad musty, but, hey, instant cleavage!
I whipped off my shirt and put it on. Wow! I looked amazing. I couldn’t wait to show up for school on Monday with my new, improved figure. Yeah, I know, I didn’t quite think the whole thing through. Flat on Friday, mounds on Monday…
So, I’m in PE–with all those boys, but I’m feeling pretty good in my snuggish white shirt and baggy blue shorts. And we’re on the gym floor in rows doing push-ups. I hated pushups. I hate pushups even more now, but anyway…
The laughter. Big huge guffaw-ha-ha-ha-ha’s. From those boys. It took me a few more pushups to clue into the whole, the laughter is coming from behind you, thing.
After all, I had boobs now. Yeah, boobs. Flapping against my sides. My ancient, hook-in-the-front, padded bra had come undone!
“Look! She’s wearing a padded bra!” one of the louder, more obnoxious, but, yeah, cuter guys yelled.
I’ll just let you imagine the humiliation of trying to re-hook an ancient padded bra while everyone else is moving on to sit-ups. And the boys (and plenty of girls) are still laughing. And the teacher is all, “Sydney, is there a problem?”
Yeah there’s a problem!
So the boob fairy did eventually visit. But why couldn’t she have come before I found that blippety-blippin’ padded bra?