Mati?

Dear Mati,

I got your email requesting a detailed biography but you sent it from a school email address. I cannot reply to school email addresses because they block out all non-school users to keep their students safe. Please email me again from a non-school address!

 

Bethany

My New Book

Guys, I am getting tons of emails and comments asking about the new book I have coming out. Here is the scoop:

THE DRAGON’S PRICE  coming 2/17/17

A story about a princess who chooses death by dragon over an arranged marriage and ends up fighting the beast.  (More to come soon!)

 

Also, a fan made a STUNG book trailer! Follow the link and check it out!

 

Lastly, SO MANY of you are asking if STUNG will be a movie. Not yet, but hopefully one day.

Congratulations STUNG

So, some extremely awesome news. STUNG won the Florida Sunshine State Young Readers’ Award! Thank you, Florida, for loving my book, for loving my characters, and for loving my writing. I love you, Florida!

THIS is the link to the announcement.

Also, Savannah wrote some Stung fan fiction. Check it out! Leave a comment! But as a writer who knows how hard and scary it is to put your words out there for strangers to read, I have one request. If you leave a comment for Savannah, it has to be nice. No tearing anyone down!

Happy Birthday To Me!

Guys, it is my birthday this month! Would you like to help me celebrate? Yeah, I seriously thought so. If you’re on my webpage, it means you totally get my books, which means somewhere deep down, we are probably kindred spirits. So, there are a few things you can do to help me celebrate.

  1. Recommend my books to someone.
  2. Write a book review either at Goodreads, Amazon, or Barnes and Noble.
  3. Take a picture of my book and put it up somewhere–Twitter, Instagram, wherever–and tag me in it #bethanywiggins.
  4. Fan art! Draw something to do with any of my books and put it up somewhere–Twitter, Instagram, pinterest, you know– and tag me in it!

And to all of you out there, wherever you are, whenever you were born, Happy Birthday! The day you entered this world is a pretty awesome day. I am glad you are alive.

Bethany

P.S. If you want to contact me, look up. Do you see the “contact” tab at the top of this page? Click it. Follow the directions and then type me a message. It goes right to my inbox, and I read and respond to every single one (unless you use a school email. Then It won’t let me reply to you!).

Cured’s Alternate Ending

So, I was looking at my final revision of CURED today and discovered that I had written two possible endings. I let my editor pick which one we used. Here is the one we did not use:

EPILOGUE #2

Kevin and I walk into the town. Every log cabin has the remains of a massive vegetable garden in the yard, with cold weather plants, like acorn squash and gourds, still in the dirt. Ears of corn and baskets filled to overflowing with potatoes are sitting out on front porches, as if no one is worried about them being stolen. And I guess they’re not. If a person has enough to eat, he doesn’t need to steal food.

One log cabin has blue metal boxes in front of it, and I can hear the quiet vibration of bees when we pass them. “What are those?” I ask.

“Beehives,” Kevin explains. “My grandpa’s.”

I can’t help but smile. Bees! I stop walking for a minute and listen to them. “Where is your grandpa?” I ask.

“Zeke’s wife says he’s at the fortress.”

“The fortress?”

“You’ll see.” He takes my hand in his and we keep walking to the other side of the town, to a huge, rectangular building made of weathered logs. The air changes, growing heavy with animal smells, and I am reminded of the zoo. I wrinkle my nose. “What is this place?”

“It’s the fortress—where we keep the tainted ones. The beasts. It is where my sister is.”

My legs slow without me meaning to let them. “Wait. How do you keep them from attacking people?”

“If they’re well fed, they’re not as violent. We keep them in cages and feed them. Once a week or so, they’re sedated and washed, and their cages are cleaned.” Kevin pulls me toward the building. He opens a thick, wooden door, and I can’t help but put my sleeve over my nose and mouth to try and dull the smell.

I am standing in a huge room, with knot-covered wooden columns supporting the ceiling, and metal bars blocking the windows. There are more metal bars, which rise from floor to ceiling. Behind these bars are individual rooms, divided with thick wooden walls that are covered with dents and scratches, and inside each room is a beast. I look from cage to cage, counting. There are nineteen beasts, and one empty cage.

A disheveled, white-haired man is standing in the room, pressing pieces of hard, flat bread into the cages. There are fresh scabs down the side of his face, and he has a black eye. On his left hand is a bandage, where his pointer finger should be—but isn’t. His watery, blue eyes focus on Kevin and the man’s lips thin before he sucks them in against his teeth. He walks over to us but doesn’t say anything.

“Grandpa,” Kevin says, taking the man’s injured hand in his. “What happened to you?”

The old man’s eyes move past Kevin and focus on the empty cage. Kevin turns around and follows his grandpa’s gaze.

“Where’s my sister?” he asks in a strangled whisper.

“She attacked me and got away.”

THE (ALTERNATIVE) END