Here’s the one-page resource for everything you need to know about me and my books…especially how to buy them!
Michelle Lowery Combs is an award-winning writer and blogger who studied business and English at Jacksonville State University. She lives in Alabama with her husband and their army of children. When not in the presence of throngs of toddlers, tweens, and teens, Michelle can be found among the rows of her family’s farm, neglecting her roots and dreaming up the next bestseller.
She is a member of the Alabama Writers’ Conclave and the Society of Children’s Book Writers & Illustrators (SCBWI). Check Michelle out at her website MichelleLoweryCombs.com
Who is your favorite author?
Neil Gaiman. He’s fabulous. And so incredibly supportive of other authors. I outranked him this week on Amazon in Canada for a few hours and wanted to send him a tweet of apology; it felt that wrong.
How do you describe your writing style?
The Genie Chronicles are written from the perspective of main character Ginn Lawson, and therefore in the voice of a teenage girl. I try to be as authentic to that voice as possible with a style I hope is relaxed and conversational. At my core, I am a humorist, and ultimately everything I write flows from that place.
Use no more than two sentences. Why should we read your book?
Books are the best kind of magic, and who couldn’t use a little magic in her life? Read my books or someone else’s, but please do read.
Have any of your characters been modeled after yourself?
Absolutely! There’s a bit of me in Genie Chronicles mom Molly Lawson. For starters, she’s a terrible cook. Anyone who knows me, knows how awful I am at the culinary arts. Ginn Lawson is tall for her age, and I borrowed from my own background for that, too. I’ve been 5’10” since I was twelve years-old.
If you could exchange lives with any of your characters for a day which character would you choose and why?
Probably Rashmere. He’s thousands of years old, but experiencing the world on his own terms for the first time in Solomon’s Bell. What would be cooler than having the world at your fingertips, unlimited resources at your disposal to explore it, and all the powers of a genie?
What books have most influenced your life?
Books like Cold Sassy Tree by Olive Ann Burns and the Hobbit made me fall in love with reading as a young person, but Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events did more to make me return to writing as an adult than just about anything else in my life. Daniel Handler’s style, his approach to storytelling, and what he accomplishes with his characters in the Snicket books is inspiring.
If you could select one book that you could rewrite and add your own unique twist on, which book would that be and why?
Maybe the recent Go Set a Watchman by Harper Lee. There are parts of the book as lovely as its predecessor To Kill A Mockingbird, but I am troubled to this day by other parts of it. Particularly the scene in which Scout is struck by her uncle, by such a blow that she is knocked to the ground and bleeds. Afterwards, she suppresses her anger and follows him into the house for a chat. Ummmmm…..no. Let a man strike one of my female characters, for any reason, at any time in the history of the world, and my girl is fighting back in some way. I’d have Scout climb into her convertible and flatten her uncle on the lawn for all of Main Street in Maycomb, Alabama to witness.
Beatles or Monkees? Why?
As a “Michelle” I’m tempted to go with the Beatles—Michelle My Bell is a great song—but, I grew up watching Monkees reruns on television, and loved everything about the show. The guys were cute, the music fun, and I loved seeing Davy Jones when he crossed over for Brady Bunch appearances.
Who should play you in a film of your life?
Rosie O’Donnell, without a doubt. We look a little bit alike, and I adore her sense of humor and commitment to motherhood. Not sure I’ve ever heard her affect a Southern drawl, though. If she could pull that off without making me sound like a turnip green, I’d appreciate it but it wouldn’t be a deal breaker.
To save her family, Ginn uses her newfound genie powers to transport herself and her friends to 16th century Prague. Only one thing there remains the same as at home: she can’t let anyone know what she really is.
The Emperor of Prague and those closest to him are obsessed with magic. In pursuit of it, they’ve waged war on the citizens of their city. In the citizens’ defense, someone has brought to life a golem, a dangerous being with connections to an artifact capable of summoning and commanding an entire army of genies.
Can Ginn escape the notice of the Emperor as she attempts to discover a way to defeat Prague’s golem in time to save her family from a similar creature?
Solomon’s Bell is the sequel to Heir to the Lamp and the second book of the Genie Chronicles series.
Grab your copy now!
Haley Hardy blinks up at me, her big blue eyes made larger with surprise. Haley’s the newbie: a tiny ten-year-old my family has been fostering for the last few months. Mom and Dad want to adopt Haley, but she hasn’t decided on Charles and Molly Lawson and their chaotic brood of six children yet.
“What’s up, Haley?” I ask, trying to sound as though I don’t know she’s seen me appear from out of nowhere. I turn my back to her, retrieve the lamp from the ground, and stuff it into my pack.
“Sixty-four percent of people believe the Loch Ness monster really exists,” Haley says in her high voice. “Of course, you’d have to use a point zero one significance level to test that claim; the survey I saw was online.”
Half the time I have no idea what Haley is talking about. She’s insanely smart—a genius even. I can practically feel my IQ plummet whenever I try to have a conversation with her.
“Um, really?” I ask, trying to imagine where this is going. Haley half turns toward the open door of the small barn as if she’s about to leave. I sigh with relief, but Haley seems to think better of it and turns to face me again.
“Did you know that there’s an ongoing project to have collected evidence validated by science and the Sasquatch officially recognized as a species?”
What? “Haley, where do you come up with this stuff?” I sink onto the wooden bench behind me, peering into the bright eyes of the strangest kid I’ve ever met.
“I like to read,” she says, looking away. Between her right thumb and first two thin fingers, Haley rolls the fat glass marble she carries with her at all times. Mom says it’s a kind of security object, like how some kids develop attachments to stuffed toys or blankets from their babyhood. Mom also says the rest of us kids shouldn’t make a huge deal about it. Haley’s been in six foster homes in five years, and Mom figures the marble could be a keepsake from her life before all that, though Haley hasn’t said as much. She’s so intense sometimes; I don’t think anyone knows what to make of her. Mom says some of the other foster families exploited Haley; she’s been on a major talk show and even won twenty-five thousand dollars for one of her foster families on some game show before they abandoned her on the steps of the Children’s Methodist Home on their way to Las Vegas. Watching her with her marble, seeing how slowly she works the ball of glass flecked with every color of the rainbow, I can tell I’ve hurt her feelings.
“Reading’s cool,” I say, hoping to reassure her. Sure, I thought about divorcing my parents when I found out we were taking in another kid, even when in the beginning the arrangement was supposed to be only temporary, but I kind of like the little brainiac. Mostly because of the way she’s able to keep Eli and Jasper in line. The Twosome are crazy about our new foster sister. Part of me is starting to wonder if Haley’s stats on Bigfoot could have anything to do with the boys’ obsession with B-grade horror movies.
“I’d be satisfied with being half as smart as you, Haley. I’m having the worst time in algebra.”
“Mr. Lawson is teaching me trigonometry,” Haley says brightening. “Algebra was a breeze.” My parents are homeschooling Haley; they say it’s for the best. She’d be at least a junior at my high school otherwise. I can imagine all four and a half feet of her struggling on tip-toe to reach a locker—that is if her statistics about the Loch Ness Monster didn’t get her stuffed into it. “I’m happy to tutor you,” she tells me.
“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”
I stand and watch Haley eye the backpack on my shoulder. She looks from my face to the pack a few times. I think she’s about to say something about what she’s seen or thinks she’s seen with the lamp when Jasper bursts through the barn door.
“Hay-wee!” he exclaims. “We need wou, quick! I fink we found a chupacabwa!”
“It’s highly unlikely that a goat sucker or el chupacabra would be found this far north of Latin America, Jasper,” Haley says. She corrects my seven-year-old brother even as she allows him to tug her excitedly from the barn.
THE MASTERPIECE TRILOGYby
Stolen by My Knave by Dawn Brower
Enticed by Lady Elianna by USA Today Bestseller Amanda Mariel
The Ugly Duckling Debutante by USA Today Bestseller Meara Platt
A Diamond for a Duke by Collette Cameron
His Elusive Nightingale by USA Today Bestseller Ari Thatcher
The Fairy Palace by Sue London
Hunting for A Lady’s Heart by USA Today Bestseller Tammy Andresen
USA Today Bestselling Author, Tammy Andresen lives with her husband and three children just outside of Boston, Massachusetts. She grew up on the Seacoast of Maine, where she spent countless days dreaming up stories in blueberry fields and among the scrub pines that line the coast. Her mother loved to spin a yarn and Tammy filled many hours listening to her mother retell the classics. It was inevitable that at the age of 18, she headed off to Simmons College, where she studied English literature and education. She never left Massachusetts but some of her heart still resides in Maine and her family visits often.
Once upon a time seven historical romance authors created a fairy tale inspired Regency world with all the romance of Regency and timelessness of fairy tales.
Hunting for A Lady’s Heart by Tammy Andresen
Lord William Fairfield is an experienced hunter, so when he encounters the beautiful, raven-haired Lady Eirwen White in the forest running for her life, he knows that he must use his skills to save her. But will Eirwen allow him to put his life at risk to aid her against her wicked stepmother?
Stepping out from the trees, William caught his breath. A maiden of unearthly beauty came into view with raven hair simply tied back in a red ribbon that shimmered in the light.
Her delicate features were illuminated by the sun as was the subtle grace of her body as she reached down and plucked a mushroom from the ground. For an instant she turned to face him and he nearly caught his breath.
Large luminous grey eyes shone brightly in her near alabaster skin. Full red lips played with a small smile as she glanced around her. Though Will could feel no breeze, it was almost as though the trees danced in response as the large willows swayed around her.
A tinkling laugh like a bell fell from her lips and several birds tweeted a response. It was almost magical. Picking another mushroom, she did a little twirl as she laughed again.
Chuckling himself, Will watched as she danced and laughed, birds twittering around her. Up till that moment, Will had thought that his brother Graham’s wife, Charlotte, was the fairest maiden in all of England, but he had been wrong. This woman was fairer than Charlotte even, and her beauty drew him to her as he silently began to move through the forest toward the glen where she danced.
It was a pull unlike anything he had ever experienced. Like an actual force, it carried him closer to the opening of trees. He had no plan, no idea why he moved toward her or what he might say but he had the unmistakable need to be near her.
And then he heard it. The crunching of leaves nearby that signaled someone or something else was nearing the glen. Will froze, his eyes scanning the trees. In horror he saw another huntsman raise his bow, his arrow trained on the beautiful girl dancing amongst the willows.
The trees stilled, their branches dipping low and the other man’s eyes narrowed, his shot more difficult. But Will had a perfect view of him. Raising his bow, he released his arrow. It wasn’t a kill shot, it wasn’t meant to be, and it hit its target exactly where it was supposed to, in the thigh of the other huntsman.
The man let out a cry and fell to the ground. His maiden turned, fear filling her face as she gasped aloud.
“Randolph,” she cried, moving towards the injured man.
“My lady,” the huntsman gasped and Will raised his bow again.
“Do not move any closer to him, my lady.” Will’s voice was even as he trained the tip of his next arrow on the man’s heart. From the corner of his eye he saw her stop.
THE STRANGER’S VOICEby