Book Promo: Excerpt & Giveaway! Love Spell by Mia Kerick

Strutting his stuff on the catwalk in black patent leather pumps and a snug orange tuxedo as this year’s Miss (ter) Harvest Moon feels so very right to Chance César, and yet he knows it should feel so very wrong. 

As far back as he can remember, Chance has been “caught between genders.” (It’s quite a touchy subject; so don’t ask him about it.) However, he does not question his sexual orientation. Chance has no doubt about his gayness—he is very much out of the closet at his rural New Hampshire high school, where the other students avoid the kid they refer to as “girl-boy.”

But at the local Harvest Moon Festival, when Chance, the Pumpkin Pageant Queen, meets Jasper Donahue, the Pumpkin Carving King, sparks fly. So Chance sets out, with the help of his BFF, Emily, to make “Jazz” Donahue his man. 

An article in an online women’s magazine, Ten Scientifically Proven Ways to Make a Man Fall in Love with You (with a bonus love spell thrown in for good measure), becomes the basis of their strategy to capture Jazz’s heart. 

Quirky, comical, definitely flamboyant, and with an inner core of poignancy, Love Spell celebrates the diversity of a gender-fluid teen.

It must be about eleven at night when my parents sit Emmy and I down at the kitchen table, serve us Pad Thai from a take-out box, and ask us questions (interrogate us) about our college applications. I’m shocked that they make this effort—they must be curious about what their son is going to do with his future. Truth is, I haven’t yet actually filled out college applications, as I’m not planning to apply anywhere Early Action or Early Decision, and so I have until the winter to get my applicational ass in gear. 

My mother is tall, reed thin, and definitely shares my resemblance to Prince Harry of Wales, but in an aging female hipster way. A strange mental image, I admit. “Chance, have you decided which essay prompt you are going to respond to on The Common Application?” 

I bite my thumb to stifle the urge to say, “as if you give a shit,” knowing the sarcasm would be lost on my clueless ‘rents. 

Unfortunately, Emmy speaks up for me. Loud and clear, like always. “I keep telling him he should do the one about challenging a belief or an idea.”

Tell me she’s not going to say this…. Please, no—not the gender thing.

My father wears his gray hair in a long ponytail down his back. He likes to think of himself as cool and with-it, like an artsy, antique flower child, but I strongly suspect that he’s really just one enormous ego. However, Emily has peaked his curiosity. “Why do you say that, Emily?”

“Well, you guys, of all people, should have noticed.” At the moment, Emily’s green eyes are wide and almost as oblivious looking as Jazz’s. “Every single day he challenges gender stereotypes. I mean take a look at him right now.”

We all look down at my outfit, which is comprised of an oversized baseball shirt I often sleep in that declares in bold hot pink print across the chest, “The Other Team”, and silky, purple sleep pants.

“Chance clearly was cut by a unique gender mold. An essay on this subject would set him apart from the majority of the other applicants.” After expressing this sentiment she forks in a humongous mouthful of rice noodles.

My parents stare from Emily to me. I’m not sure which of us is the most dumbfounded. Mom and Dad are out of their league—guiding me through the challenging aspects of my life has not traditionally been part of their job description. And me? Let’s just call me dumbfounded and leave it at that. It’s safer for everyone involved.

“Why, yes, I think you’re right,” Mom says, as if looking at me for the very first time. 

“Thanks for the rad suggestion, Emmy.” My voice is more than a bit sarcastic, as all things gender related are wrapped up in a big paper package with a skull and crossbones sticker pressed on the front beside a label that says, “super sensitive completely off-limits subject—KEEP OUT!” I clear my throat in an effort to contain my rancor. “But I think I’m going to go with the one about the place where I feel perfectly content.”

I can tell that Dad is still considering Emmy’s observation about his son, but he still manages to ask me, “And where might that be, Chance? Where do you feel perfectly content? At the mall, in that store Hot Topic?”

Mia Kerick is the mother of four exceptional children—all named after saints—and five nonpedigreed cats—all named after the next best thing to saints, Boston Red Sox players. Her husband of twenty-two years has been told by many that he has the patience of Job, but don’t ask Mia about that, as it is a sensitive subject.

Mia focuses her stories on the emotional growth of troubled young people and their relationships, and she believes that physical intimacy has a place in a love story, but not until it is firmly established as a love story. As a teen, Mia filled spiral-bound notebooks with romantic tales of tortured heroes (most of whom happened to strongly resemble lead vocalists of 1980s big-hair bands) and stuffed them under her mattress for safekeeping. She is thankful to Dreamspinner Press, Harmony Ink Press, CoolDudes Publishing, and CreateSpace for providing her with alternate places to stash her stories.

Mia is a social liberal and cheers for each and every victory made in the name of human rights, especially marital equality. Her only major regret: never having taken typing or computer class in school, destining her to a life consumed with two-fingered pecking and constant prayer to the Gods of Technology.

Stop by Mia’s Blog with questions or comments, or simply share what’s on your mind. Find Mia on

Facebook, Goodreads Amazon.

a Rafflecopter giveaway