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Lessons Learned in 2013

January 3, 2014 By Barbara 2 Comments

Time To Learn Concept

Everybody has lists. The morning news shows – or celebrity love fests as I like to call them – all had end-of-year videos with their choices of top things, people, news stories, and deaths that they believe accurately depict the past year. Well, I’ve got my list too. A list of things I learned through the past twelve months that I was probably better off not knowing.

I learned that no matter how long it’s been since I’ve stretched out on the freezing ground to make a snow angel, the memory was way more enjoyable than the reality.

I learned what teddy bears look like twerking. (Believe me, the world would be a better place NOT knowing that.)

I learned no matter how awful an actress Miley Cyrus ever was on Disney, she was still able to trick the world into believing that at least she wouldn’t be as bad of an influence on our kids as Lindsay Lohan.

I learned that if Van Damme does the splits while standing on two moving Volvo trucks, there will be many who follow with parody.

I learned that the “knockout game” is only a hate crime if the victim is black. Otherwise it’s just a “poor entertainment choice.”

I learned that Al Gore didn’t really invent the Internet. (I think it may have been Chuck Norris.)

I learned that obesity is just another word for love of Chipolte.

I learned that middle age is much like middle-earth. A horrible place where nothing is what it seems, time disappears in a blur, and weird things begin to grow in weird places.

I learned that there is a shortage of Chicago criminals to fill important political positions… hence the selection of John Kerry for Secretary of State.

I learned that “just say no” may work for drugs but it doesn’t even put a dent in a serious chocolate addiction.

I learned that news sources will always choose hysterical accusations and/or innuendo over actual facts.

I learned that there is a very thin line between love and hate… hence my Christmas online shopping spree at Amazon.

I learned that Honey Boo Boo is actually a young child and not a character on Yogi Bear.

I learned that many people believe putting Amish and Bloodsuckers in the same book title is close to heresy. My apologies to any vampires who may have been offended by this association.

I learned that global warming is no longer alive and well, but buried beneath tons of snow and ice and crying like a baby.

Happy New Year puppy
pictures purchased from fotolia.com

Happy New Year and welcome 2014!! I’m sure there will be many more lessons to learn in the coming months.

What did you learn this past year? Leave a comment and share!

Barbara

Barbara is the author of the Fredrickson Winery novels, Entangled, Crushed & Savor, the award winning thriller, Split Sense, and Christian suspense novels, Running Home and Alias Raven Black. She lives in Minnesota with her husband and two lovable mutts.
Barbara is the author of the Fredrickson Winery novels, Entangled, Crushed & Savor, the award winning thriller, Split Sense, and Christian suspense novels, Running Home and Alias Raven Black. She lives in Minnesota with her husband and two lovable mutts.
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Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: 2013, Barbara Ellen Brink, highlights, humor, lessons learned

Lightning Strikes in the Zombie Zone

December 8, 2013 By Barbara Leave a Comment

IMG_1146

Everywhere you look there are signs of Christmas. Red and white decorations, flashing lights, ringing bells, decked out trees, horrendous amounts of traffic, and of course… crowded stores.

In the last few years, online shopping has gained in popularity. It’s nicer for many reasons. You don’t have to actually wait in lines, talk to people, or have the chance of catching a communicable disease off a germ-laden cart. Virtual carts are so much more civilized, don’t you think? And snot-free.

At the online mega store that shall not be named, there are “lightning deals” every hour. It’slightening like a game show without a host. You never know what you will find, or what you might want for that matter… until you see it.

Bright, colorful products shine before you, while a clock ticks down like a time-bomb. These set deadlines put you into high alert and you go into what I call – the Zombie Zone. You must have _________, (insert object of desire) even if you’ve never needed one before.

trolleyLike a flesh-eating creature looking at a plate of brains… Your eyes widen and gleam. Your breath shortens. Your fingers poise over the buy-now button. If you’re really into the Zombie Zone, you may even growl.  Hesitate even for a moment and someone else quicker but far less deserving will grab what you want, and you will be bereft… and hungry. You might never have the chance to slap your palm down over the answer button on the Wheel Of Fortune, but you can and will win buy something here… anything. Your cart is empty. Time to fill it up…

That!! Click now!!

A megaphone in red and white. You’ve always wanted one of those. You can call your children to dinner without opening the door or raising your voice.

A total body epilator. Because everyone has unwanted hair and by all means it should be eliminated. You don’t want to turn into Genghis Khan, do you?

An easy wring mop & bucket. Okay, that’s just cruel. Whoever is choosing these items to go on sale for Christmas is laughing his or her head off right about now. There will definitely be some angry wives this year.

A dumbbell rack. Dumbbells not included. Enough said.

A guitar. Every teenager’s fantasy; to pick up one of these instruments and suddenly start rocking out without ever taking a lesson. Not gonna happen, but luckily they make great wall art after your teen has given up the dream.

Cameras. Because even though you take pictures with your cell phone ten or fifteen times a day, you need an official camera for proper family photos that aren’t downloaded directly to Facebook. Or you can buy it for Grandma. She doesn’t even know about Facebook.

Games. You must buy a new game for Christmas. It’s one of those unwritten rules. Those boxes with tiny pieces and cards may never get taken out of the downstairs closet once the New Year sets in, but it doesn’t matter. You have to buy one. It’s been a tradition since Egyptian Pharaoh families played Senet during those lazy afternoons when there was nothing else to do but watch sandstorms through the front window of the pyramid.

Lucky jewelry. There are enough horseshoe and four-leave clover necklaces on sale this week to deck out a Leprechaun Cavalry. Perfect for those relatives you have no idea what to buy and they should feel lucky to get anything at all from you.

Watches. These seem to be in great abundance this year, even though cell phones have pretty much negated the wearing of a time-piece. But jewelry is jewelry. Even if you can’t tell time, you can wear it like a boss. (I have no idea what that means but it sounds pretty hip, right? …maybe not.) Anyway, remember that if you’re buying one for your husband, get one with lots of bells and whistles. It’ll keep him busy and he won’t notice all the boxes you got for yourself.

Good luck winning purchasing Christmas presents this year. Hope you find some real treasures. Of course if you’re looking for books… Look no further. I’ve got what you need.

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Thanks for stopping by! Happy Shopping!

Barbara

Barbara is the author of the Fredrickson Winery novels, Entangled, Crushed & Savor, the award winning thriller, Split Sense, and Christian suspense novels, Running Home and Alias Raven Black. She lives in Minnesota with her husband and two lovable mutts.
Barbara is the author of the Fredrickson Winery novels, Entangled, Crushed & Savor, the award winning thriller, Split Sense, and Christian suspense novels, Running Home and Alias Raven Black. She lives in Minnesota with her husband and two lovable mutts.
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Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: Barbara Ellen Brink, Books, humor, Lightening Deals, shopping

The Art of Shopping

November 12, 2013 By Barbara 3 Comments

The holidays are coming up and we are already bombarded with ads to buy, buy, buy. Many of you may be novices in the art of shopping. So, I thought I’d help you out by sharing all the wisdom I’ve accumulated over the years. These rules for survival might possibly save your life if you heed them. fremont-mall-08

“The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting.” 

― Sun Tzu, The Art of War

For instance… Shopping at Walmart. Personally, I’m afraid to go in there, but there are those who frequent it on a regular basis and live to talk about it. They walk those long, shadow-filled aisles as though it’s just another discount store and not a minefield of horrific proportions. I’ve seen things there that would make your blood run cold. Body parts hanging out in the open like a drunken plumber’s convention. Halloween horror comes daily to Sam’s oasis of crazy.

“All warfare is based on deception.” ― Sun Tzu, The Art of War

If you intend to take your life into your own hands and shop at Walmart, then you should know how to fit in. As Sun said, it’s all about deception. You must make them believe that you belong there and that you aren’t afraid. No Fear. Say it three times before you enter the doors. Zip up your hoodie, pull on your rubber gloves and grab a cart.

“Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt.”  Sun Tzu, The Art of War

Push past the creepy greeter without so much as batting an eye. Once you’re inside, head straight toward your destination aisle. Don’t stop to gape at the clapping, cheering rah rah employees as they rev themselves up for the day, but hurry by like you’ve seen it all before. Paste on a grim smirk of annoyance, and start throwing items into the cart. You want to get in and out as quickly as possible.

“To know your Enemy, you must become your Enemy.” ― Sun Tzu, The Art of War

If a large woman comes after you and tries to yank the last on sale flat screen out of your cart, just point your finger at her like a gun and yell, “clean up on aisle six!” then turn and run for check-out as fast as your Nike’s will take you. CIMG0703

“If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.” 

― Sun Tzu, The Art of War

Department store shopping is a little less stressful. You may not have a run-in with violent fellow shoppers, but you will learn that part of shopfare is knowing the terrain and what to expect. Bright displays, meant to attract you, constantly draw your eyes away from the truth. They’re trying to sell you crap. Don’t succumb to this bit of trickery. Read the tags. If something says, made with ramie, that does not mean it’s made with the soft underbelly wool of a baby Ram. No. It means it will soothe your skin as well as a nest of fire ants. Ramie comes from an Asian plant in the nettle family. And believe me, unless you’re a monk practicing flagellation, you don’t want to wear nettles.

If clothes have been put on hangers for display, it means the store can’t sell the ugly things, so they marked the price up like a psychological double-cross. Sweaters on hangers are in no way better than the pile of sweaters folded on a table, but the price of viewing them hanging against the wall with blue-tinged lights shining over them, makes them double. Especially, if posed nearby there is an anorexic mannequin modeling one of them. It doesn’t matter if hanger-hung sweaters make you look like you’ve grown horns on the tops of your shoulders. You will be drawn to this display like a moth to a flame.

Don’t be fooled by these shopfare tricks. Your enemy’s shock and awe, glitter and lights displays will make a simple cotton turtleneck look the color of a blue lagoon, but when you get it home you’ll realize it’s actually the color of moldy cheese and makes you look like a dead rat.

“In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity” ― Sun-Tzu, The Art of War

If you’re like me, and hate fighting crowds, you can take your shopfare online. Shopping alone in a virtual store where the cart doesn’t have a squeaky wheel and nobody asks if they can help you every five seconds, is quite possibly the most redeeming feature of an often-times dismal Internet world of wacky celebrity news or anger-management dropouts trolling discussion forums for fresh victims.

Even the finest sword plunged into salt water will eventually rust.” Sun Tzu, The Art of War

Know your limitations. Stop before your credit card starts smoking. Don’t let a part-time, minimum-wage employee talk you into opening yet another store card to get a discount that will no doubt be eaten up by exorbitant interest before you ever make that first payment.

“There is no instance of a country having benefited from prolonged warfare.” ― Sun Tzu, The Art of War

Don’t shop just to shop. Accumulating packages is not the end result you seek. Besides, lugging bags full of booty around is tiring and you end up with shopping elbow and a migraine.

What shopfare rules do you live by when you’ve been deployed to the Mall? Leave a comment and share!

Barbara

Barbara is the author of the Fredrickson Winery novels, Entangled, Crushed & Savor, the award winning thriller, Split Sense, and Christian suspense novels, Running Home and Alias Raven Black. She lives in Minnesota with her husband and two lovable mutts.
Barbara is the author of the Fredrickson Winery novels, Entangled, Crushed & Savor, the award winning thriller, Split Sense, and Christian suspense novels, Running Home and Alias Raven Black. She lives in Minnesota with her husband and two lovable mutts.
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Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: humor, shopping, The Art of War

Hotdish for everyone!

July 24, 2013 By Barbara 2 Comments

Bubble play
Photo purchased from Fotolia

Minnesotans have the gift of niceness. I’m not saying we’re all nice, all the time. But when push comes to shove, a Minnesotan will smile and say, “have a nice day,” before he shoves you back.

This attitude does not reflect those who have recently moved into this great state, coming from angrier more aggressive areas of the country. Like say… Florida. I’m talking about those born and raised here, or at least to have lived most of their adult lives in the land of hot dish, cheese curds, and Sven and Ole jokes.

Niceness is not our Achilles heel as some might think. In fact, I believe that our niceness is often our strength. Even the Bible says, “a gentle answer turns away wrath.”

Being nice doesn’t have to stop at the Minnesota border. I’m willing to bet there are people in Kansas, Ohio, Delaware, or even Florida who are heart sick at the anger and strife across this country.

For the past weeks all we’ve heard from the media has been meant to stir up wrath, make us hate one another, and provoke us toward anything but nice. They’re looking for another lead to bleed so they can justify their own deplorable methods of news reporting, and say, “I told you so.”

Let’s give them nothing – nothing but NICE.

Have a nice day!

Barbara

Barbara is the author of the Fredrickson Winery novels, Entangled & Crushed, the award winning thriller, Split Sense, and Christian suspense novels, Running Home and Alias Raven Black. She lives in Minnesota with her husband and two lovable mutts.
Barbara is the author of the Fredrickson Winery novels, Entangled & Crushed, the award winning thriller, Split Sense, and Christian suspense novels, Running Home and Alias Raven Black. She lives in Minnesota with her husband and two lovable mutts.
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Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: hotdish, humor, Minnesota Nice

Clueless at Pinterest

April 3, 2013 By Barbara Leave a Comment

At one time in my life I thought I was pretty creative. In high school I could draw Snoopy on his dog house or Charlie Brown in his Halloween ghost costume as well as the next kid in study hall. I learned to sew after I got married and made all of my daughter’s little dresses and outfits. I even made a few crafts in my time. Nothing fabulous enough to be mistaken for a Martha Stewart design, but serviceable.

With the advent of Pinterest I have learned that my feeble attempts at artistry and decorating are feeble indeed.

On Pinterest people blatantly show off their artistic flair, home decorating awesomeness, and general craftiness with a total disregard for the feelings of an average, normal homemaker like myself.

Pictures of sweaters or socks knit by hand with nothing but needles and a live goat are on display for all to see. The colors are vibrant, the textures extraordinary, the design absolutely gorgeous. Of course no one can wear it because it is a work of art.

Cooks pin photos of their culinary creations and in very simple terms try to explain the process for those of us who so rarely use our ovens that we need to pull out the operator’s manual at Christmas and Easter.

Then there are those decorating freaks of nature who can pick up an old piece of driftwood and a battered tin bucket and make it look like a priceless antique end table or something to adorn that special nook you have built into a corner of the house you designed yourself.

I look at pictures of beautiful home decorating ideas, elaborate cakes, or handmade crafts that mothers do with their children and I think, “but for the grace of God I could have been born crafty.” Thank God I was actually born with absolutely no interest in those things because otherwise I wouldn’t have all this time to pore over funny pictures on facebook or chat on twitter. I wouldn’t be able to write whenever the mood takes me, but instead would feel compelled to string beads or glue together centerpieces for my dinner table or bake gluten free truffles with roses on top. Thank God I was born talent-free.

Regardless of the talents I lack, I sometimes see or read something on Pinterest that gets my attention. Nothing too spectacular, just simple things for a simple lifestyle. Like boiling eggs.

Okay, it was Easter this past Sunday and most people boiled eggs to decorate or to make into deviled eggs (because plain eggs just don’t have enough fat and cholesterol without adding mayonnaise).

Lucky me, I saw a picture of perfectly boiled eggs with directions for how to turn them into cute little deviled chicks. First off, it said to bring them to a boil and then turn off the burner and let them sit in the hot water for ten minutes. Simple, right? Honestly, I followed the directions to the letter, but the shells stuck horribly and the poor little chicks looked all mushy like they were melting, their skin pock-marked from some chicken egg disease or something. IMG_1198

Well, I’ve learned my lesson the hard way. From now on I will boil my eggs the way my momma taught me and ignore the advice of experts.

As she also taught me when I was a kid – to look and not touch – when it comes to Pinterest I’m only a wide-eyed observer.

 

Barbara

Barbara is the author of the Fredrickson Winery novels, Entangled & Crushed, the award winning thriller, Split Sense, and Christian suspense novels, Running Home and Alias Raven Black. She lives in Minnesota with her husband and two lovable mutts.
Barbara is the author of the Fredrickson Winery novels, Entangled & Crushed, the award winning thriller, Split Sense, and Christian suspense novels, Running Home and Alias Raven Black. She lives in Minnesota with her husband and two lovable mutts.
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Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: Barbara Ellen Brink, boiling eggs, crafts, humor, MN Author, Pinterest

Slaying vamps in an Amish world: RECKONING

March 25, 2013 By Barbara Leave a Comment

The final book in the Amish Bloodsuckers Trilogy is filled with exciting battles, family, and friends. Since I’ve shared excerpts of the first two books, Chosen and Shunned, here is an excerpt from Reckoning. I think it will give you a fun glimpse of Jael’s life as a vampire slayer in the Amish community.

 ReckoningB&N

Jael slipped up the stairs to her room with Bruno at her heels. She changed as quickly as she could. Scratching the big dog behind his ears, she opened the lid of her hope chest and took out her weapons. She slipped a knife in her boot, a stake in the waistband of her jeans and crawled over the windowsill. “Bark real loud if Gram knocks on the door,” she told Bruno, then jumped to the tree limb and swung down.

She made her way around the rear of the house, took the scenic path through a cluster of trees bordering the outhouse, ran the last few open yards to the barn and concealed herself behind the flatbed wagon. A flock of geese honked overhead, flying in a V toward Loon Lake. Elsa rattled around in her pen, knocking the water bucket over that Grandda had put in there earlier. Jael stilled her heart and listened.

The vamp was definitely still inside the barn. Now that she was close, her foot throbbed with a vengeance. She glanced toward the house. Time to take care of business before her grandparents realized she was MIA. She bent low and slipped under the rail fence behind the barn, making her way to the livestock door Grandda used to let horses in or out of the corral.

The door was heavy, splintery wood, gray and weathered by wind and rain. The handle, rusted but solid. She pulled it open just enough to slip inside, and let it fall closed behind her. Darkness enveloped her and she paused to let her eyes adjust.

Grasping the stake in her hand, she moved forward. A flutter of wings revealed a startled barn swallow’s nest in the rafters. She glanced up in time to see a dark shape hurtling toward her. He knocked her to the ground but she managed to shove him off and send him smashing into the wall. The old barn creaked and groaned from the assault.

Jael scrambled to her feet, searching for the stake on the straw strewn floor. The vamp growled low in his throat and rose up from beside the wall to face her. His teeth glowed in the dim light as he snarled like a wild beast and leaped at her again. She dodged left, ran at the wall, did a backflip and landed in front of him with a wide grin.

“Practice makes perfect,” she stated with personal satisfaction, then narrowed her gaze on the vampire before her. “Ever think of trying a new dentist, cause that overbite looks like it might give you some trouble.”

“The Bishop sent me to check on ya, see if ya was ready to join the fold like a true follower,” he said with a slow shake of his head, “but he doesn’t have any idea who ya really are, does he?”

“I’m Jael Shetler. And you?” She held out a hand as though it were a formal introduction.

He ignored her outstretched hand and tipped his hat back on his forehead to see her more clearly. His skin looked greasy, as though it were covered in petroleum jelly. Ick! What was that about? His lips lifted in a slow snarl. “The Chosen One. I’ve heard of you, but I didn’t know if the prophecy was true.”

“What? The Bishop doesn’t like to talk about me?” Jael asked, hoping to keep this dumb vamp blabbing long enough to get some serious information before she had to stake him. “I suppose news of my eminent victory over him and his minions could be kind of a downer for you all, right?”

His hands clenched into fists at his sides and a slow hiss whistled past his teeth as though he no longer had control of the urge to kill her. “Your death will bring me great power. The Bishop will give me vhatever I want.”

“And what is it you want, hmm?” She saw the stake behind him, dangling halfway through a crack in the floor. Great. She’d have to improvise.

He took a tentative step forward as though testing the ground, his eyes never straying from her face…or was it her neck? They were simple creatures. One-track mind. “I vant to taste the slayer’s blood.”

She smiled. “Yeah, right. I can’t help you with that. I already gave at the blood drive for Red Cross. But maybe I could give you a taste of something else. Do you like pain?”

Fangs extended, eyes red with the fires of hell, he growled low in his throat like a siren before a storm.

She anticipated his lunge with a jump kick to his chest. He flew back, hitting the ground with a thud, but was on his feet again in a flash. This vamp was faster than others she’d fought in the community – and she assumed older – if his knowledge of the Chosen One were any indication. Obviously the Bishop had not shared the prophecy with all of his followers.

The stake was still out of reach, practically under his foot. He saw her shift her gaze and looked down. The vamp’s smirk was reminiscent of her Uncle Jacob’s when he bent down to look inside her parent’s wrecked vehicle and saw her mom crushed and dying. Fury enveloped her and she moved so swiftly that it took him by surprise. She spun around, kicking him in the side of the head and sending him careening back into the support beam of the barn. The wood cracked with a sharp pop on impact and the ceiling rained down particles of dirt and sawdust around them.

Jael stooped to pry the stake out of the crack in the floor and the milking stool flew past her head, missing her by inches. Before she could get her fingers around the handle, the vamp had wrenched a garden hoe off the tool rack nearby and swung it at her. She ducked and rolled, avoiding being brained like the head of a dandelion, but now out of reach of her weapon.

“You’re not so tough without your little vooden stakes, are ya?” he taunted, flipping the hoe around like a baton master. What – did he go to martial arts school too? Terrific.

She heard Bruno bark and knew she had to step it up. “Tough enough,” she said, and grabbed the end of the hoe as he swung it at her, wrenched it from his grip, and cracked it over her leg. She tossed the tool end away and gripped the remaining splintery sharp handle. “Any last words?”

His red eyes widened and he leaped for the edge of the hayloft above their heads – at least a six-foot jump – grasped it and flipped onto the platform. Was he the missing link or something? Jael didn’t have time to think where all this was going. She had to finish off this bloodsucker before her grandparents discovered her missing. She placed the handle of the stake between her teeth and ran at the post, scaled it far enough to grasp the cross beam and swung herself up onto the hayloft platform.

She looked around. Where did he go? Did he just disappear into thin air?

The Vamp stepped out of the shadows and swung a pitchfork at her. She dodged left, grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back until she heard a crack. The pitchfork fell off the platform and landed on the ground below. He groaned and dropped to his knees. She grasped his hair and pulled his head back, looked into his eyes and plunged the stake through his heart. His body crumbled to dust in the blink of an eye. He was old. Maybe as old as the Bishop.

Bruno was still barking. She had to get back in the house, pronto!

Jael swung down from the hayloft, picked up the pitchfork and broken hoe and propped them in the corner by the tool rack. She shook straw out of her hair and dusted off her jeans. Another quick glance around and she was out the door.

“Vhy do you always lock that door?” her grandmother asked when Jael pulled it open moments later.

She gave a huge yawn and rubbed a hand over her face. “Sorry, Gram. Old habit.”

“Did you fall asleep? No wonder you didn’t hear me vhen I called. All that runnin’ after school is wearin’ ya out. You should let Miss Johnson drive ya home.” Gram turned and headed down the stairs. “Your grandda is waitin’ for his chicken and dumplin’s. Ya best hurry.”

“I’m coming.” Jael put her arm around Bruno and kissed the fur between his eyes. “Thanks buddy,” she whispered. “I owe you one.”

~~~~

I hope you enjoyed this excerpt. You can purchase this book or any of my other books at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Apple, or other online stores. Also available in paperbacks.

Barbara

Barbara is the author of the Fredrickson Winery novels, Entangled & Crushed, the award winning thriller, Split Sense, and Christian suspense novels, Running Home and Alias Raven Black. She lives in Minnesota with her husband and two lovable mutts.
Barbara is also the author of the Fredrickson Winery novels, Entangled & Crushed, the award winning thriller, Split Sense, and Christian suspense novels, Running Home and Alias Raven Black. She lives in Minnesota with her husband and two lovable mutts.
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Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: AmishBloodsuckersTrilogy, Barbara Ellen Brink, excerpt, humor, vampire slayer, young adult fiction, Young Adult series

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