Today's Guest is C.K. Volnek

Welcome CK, thank you for visiting my blog.


This or That?

Hi, I’m C.K. Volnek, author of tween novel Ghost Dog of Roanoke Island, available September 23, 2011 through MuseItUp Publishing. This interview really has nothing to do with my book, but it was fun to answer these unusual questions and help you get to know who I am. Though as you get to know me, I hope you’ll choose to find out more about my book as well.

(Also…I’m giving away a FREE e-copy of Ghost Dog of Roanoke Island to one lucky reader who leaves a comment for me. Good luck!)

Cookies or cake? Cookies! Nothing compares to a warm chocolate chip or snicker doodle cookie straight from the oven. Mmm.

Jelly or jam? Either. But make it home-made. Store bought is okay, but you can taste and feel the love when a friend gives you a jar of home-made preserves.

Bright colors or darker colors?  Give me the bright colors any day. I agree dark colors can add mood when decorating, but I prefer the punch of power and beauty of the bright colors of nature. Bright colors make me smile and dark colors tend to make me moodier. Even my hubby prefers me to be around bright colors, if you know what I mean. Ha.

Travel by train or travel by bus?  Unless I have my own tour bus, the answer would have to be train. There is a mystique and pleasurable atmosphere on a train. Maybe it’s because I’ve watched too many Harry Potter movies and envisioned myself sharing a cabin with my favorite characters on my way to Hogwarts. But I do love the constant clickity-clack of a steaming train.

Art museum or science museum?  Some may find my answer rather humorous since I love art. But my love for art is more to the formal side, realistic. I do not understand nor care for most abstract, though I know people who pay a lot of money for it. With that said, I’d much rather go to a good science museum. It’s intriguing to see and learn about the world around me.

Socks or bare feet?  Bare feet. My son teases me and tells me I have ‘slave’ feet. He thinks I can walk on anything. I did walk on coals once. Amazing and true; without burning my toes. I can’t wait to come home and kick off my shoes. Though as soon as the weather turns cold, the socks do stay on to keep the tootsies warm.

Go for a walk or go for a run? Walk. Never was a runner. Always asked my kids as they were gasping for breath after a cross country run, why they did it. They said it was fun. Fun? Then why did they wear such pained expressions on their faces? Give me a walk, where I can view and enjoy the scenery I am passing. Plus, my walking buddies, three little Papillons, could never survive a run.

Dresses or pants?  Both. Love a good pair of comfortable jeans, but also am most comfortable in an ankle length, flowing skirt.

Dance or sing? Absolutely both. I enjoy singing with a trio in three-part harmony. I’m the one singing in the rafters. But it’s incredibly fun to find the parts and hear them blend. But dancing is a big part of me as well. My husband and I shared many years of dancing competitively and actually took many awards. I do miss it, though I know my body could not move the way it did back then. Sigh…time does march on.

Celebrate with a small group or celebrate with a large group?  I’m more the kind to be with a small group. I want to talk to everyone when I celebrate with them and it’s hard when the group gets too large.

Now that you know me a little better, I hope you’ll take a peek at my Tween novel, Ghost Dog of Roanoke Island.

Ghost Dog of Roanoke Island

In 1587, 117 colonists disappeared from Roanoke Island without a trace, leaving behind not only unanswered questions, but a terrifying evil. 

Now it’s up to twelve year-old Jack Dahlgren to unravel the age-old mystery and save his family from the hateful beast that haunts the island. 

With the help of newfound friend, Manny, a Native American shaman, and an elusive Giant Mastiff, Jack must piece together the clues of the Lost Colony to discover what really happened. Shrouded in ancient Native American folklore, it's up to Jack to uncover what the evil is and why it haunts his island. But can he destroy it...before it destroys him?

Ghost Dog of Roanoke Island by C.K. Volnek. Available September 23, 2011 by MuseItUp Publishing

You can find out more about me and my books at my website, www.ckvolnek.com.
E-mail me at ckvolnek (at) yahoo (dot) com.
Friend me on facebook (C.K. Volnek) or Twitter (CKVolnek.)
I’m also on Good Reads and Jacket Flap.
You can also watch my book trailers on youtube at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RbJEF9TjZzo or by selecting ck volnek.
My books are available at the MuseItUp Book Store:
as well as Amazon and many other fine book locations on-line.

(Remember…I’m giving away a FREE e-copy of Ghost Dog of Roanoke Island to one lucky reader who leaves a comment for me. Good luck!

Thanks for stopping by!
C.K. Volnek
www.ckvolnek.com

Excerpt:

Jack laid the bike and his backpack on the edge of the road and sneaked through the trees. Mr. Kenney’s dilapidated cabin hid in the shadows. A breeze swirled around his head, and the faint smell of the sea filled his nose. His hands and cheeks stung from the briskness, and his face tingled.
Rubbing at the goose bumps popping up on his arms, Jack limped closer and closer, sliding from tree to tree, trying to remain hidden within the ominous shadows. Peering around a trunk of an Elm tree, he spotted the open door of the cabin. Mere yards away, the foul stench of rotten garbage filtered out. He scrunched his nose, holding his breath. A dim light showed in the dirty kitchen, displaying a toppled table and broken chairs. Shattered dishes lay strewn on the floor, pieces scattered as far as the porch. A smear covered the inside wall next to the door. Jack gasped as the dangling light bulb swayed. It illuminated the wall, revealing a red handprint.
Blood.
A pair of car lights pierced the darkness, and the motor grumbled as someone turned from Jack’s driveway onto the highway. The loud vehicle jerked back and forth. Was the driver drunk? Was he looking for something?
The motor revved. It wasn’t the sheriff. Who would be up at their place at this time of night? What would they want up there?
The old pick-up slowed as it neared Mr. Kenney’s house, pulling over on the side of the road close to the bicycle. Leaving the motor rumbling, its driver opened the door and got out. Jack peered at the blotchy vehicle, its paint faded and peeling. He couldn’t make out the color...blue, green, maybe black?
A tall man walked into the shadows, the darkness encircling him. Jack slipped to the other side of the tree, his hands shaking as he watched the stranger march closer and closer. Mushy grass squished under the man’s giant steps, and a creepy dread prickled Jack’s skin.