Release Day Blitz: The Dream Catcher by Anya Monroe + Giveaway

The Dream Catcher
Author: Anya Monroe
Reading Level: Young Adult
Genre: Contemporary/Magical Realism
Released: February 19, 2015
Review Source: The Lovely Messy


***Paddle boards, bonfires & bikinis won’t help Penny. She craves the boy from the woods; not knowing she’s already caught in his nightmare. ***

Penny’s nightmare is ruling her life and she doesn’t know why. It started a few months ago, and since then Red Bulls, 5-hour Energy Shots, and Starbucks drive-thru are her lifeline. When Penny’s parents decide to take their research of a rare Native American cult to a remote cabin for the summer, she's less than enthused. Then Penny meets Delsin in a clearing in the woods, and her view of the world awakens. Apathy defines her, but Delsin lives life to it’s fullest. A shaman-in-training, he is everything Penny is not.

Each morning she comes to the woods, handing pieces of her heart to him, but when Penny is confronted with her worst nightmare, Delsin asks for a sacrifice Penny didn’t see coming.

Three Questions:

If you didn't like writing books, what would you do for a living?
Well, I have a pretty crap-tastic employment history. Basically, it’s non-existent. Which I know
is probably not the thing parents want their teenagers to hear, but it’s the truth. I got lucky and found the love of my life at nineteen and wanted a family, so I’ve spent my adult life being a stay-at-home mom.

But if I had to go get a legit-job, I’d like to open a coffeehouse. With my best friend. We would name it The Dirty Hippy, and please do not steal that name. Seriously, that would be so mean.

What books are on your nightstand right now?
A copy of Jack Kerouac’s The Dharma Bums (a favorite of mine!), The Boyfriend List by E. Lockhart (that I need to return to a friend), Vivian Apple At The End of The World (from the library), and on my phone (which often finds itself on my nightstand) I am listening to All The Bright Places, and am reading Gabi: A Girl in Pieces on the Kindle app.

What was your inspiration to become an author?
Life is really freaking hard. We all know that. And it’s hard in all sorts of different ways for each of us. For me, the hard stuff started when I was twenty-five. My husband and I decided to grow our family through adoption and I went from being a mom of two toddlers to being a mom of five, overnight.

It was a steep learning curve, and not just figuring out how to enroll my children in school and put restrictions on electronics and how to meal plan for a little tribe. It was also hard because my entire universe kind of exploded.

I was a mess. Maybe some of that had to do with the fact I had another baby soon after, rounding out our family to the nice, still-barely-fit-in-a mini-van, number eight. But at some point I knew I couldn’t keep pinning my messiness on circumstance. At some point I needed to figure out who I wanted to be, in the midst of the mess. It took writing a lot of really weird stuff for me to begin figuring that out. And honestly, I still am, but I began that slow process of self-discovery with a keyboard and a full-heart and the desire to crawl out of the place I was in. Some people use therapy; I used the gift of story. 


“Listen, Penny. I know we are different in many ways, but you have this gentleness about you, and I don’t see it in many people. Most of the girls I’ve known are so intense. You are different.”

“So you keep saying.” But I relaxed a bit with his confident words, knowing that he liked me, straight up. “I should probably get back. We’ve been gone for hours.” I thought about Ollie looking for me. I didn’t want him to find me here. I didn’t want to share this place with him. With anyone.

“I know. I don’t want you to get in trouble, on my account.” He stood and took my hand.
He climbed out of the cave quickly, and then gave me his hands to hold, pulling me out easily. His arms were strong and he helped me to my feet. Once again we were on top of the rock, looking out at the woods, breathing in the mid-day air. But Delsin’s eyes were looking above, into the sky, as if searching for something far from his reach, and he raised his hands, too. As if wanting a hand to part from the clouds, to reach out and take him away.
I didn’t stare. I let him have his moment, even though I didn’t understand it. And I looked out, straight ahead, over the trees. I didn’t know what I was looking for. 

Anya Monroe likes to write stories and paint words on her walls. She believes in love at first sight and fights for happily-ever-afters. As a wife and mom to six kids, she carves out time to write between carpool pick-ups and date nights because words are her heartbeat. She lives a ferry ride from Seattle and is a total Pacific Northwesterner who drinks chai lattes and wears Birkenstocks and has dreadlocks. She's a cliché, but doesn't mind it. Not even a little. She documents her lovely-messy life on IG @anyamonroe. Find her there!

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