© 2020 Machovi Productions Inc. All Rights Reserved. Privacy PolicyTerms & Conditions

  • White Instagram Icon
Search

What's Up With the Goats?: A Guest Post by DCtB Author, Sarah J. Sover


People keep asking me, what’s up with the goats? I mean, there’s a definite Billy Goats Gruff angle to my irreverent comedic fantasy heist Double-Crossing the Bridge, but it’s more than that. If you spend five seconds on any of my social media pages, you will see goats. If you spot me at a convention, you can yell at me in goat for a badge ribbon. If you stop by my house unexpectedly, there will be cops but also goats. So, what’s up with all the goats?

Well, I’ve always been an all systems go kind of person. If I get an idea in my head, I chase it down with a force that’s been called elemental. And without fail, every time I’ve been on the verge of achieving something awesome, somebody or something sets off a shit bomb, and I have to tunnel my way out. Thankfully, my digging skills are top-notch at this point. What does this have to do with goats? You’ll see.

In High School, I wanted nothing more than to get into the Governor’s Honor’s program, an educational , college-like summer camp where you could get in-depth instruction in your given subject. So, when I was nominated in English, I lost my mind. At the first interview, three scary college professors asked me who my favorite authors were. I was reading Dumas at the time, I’d just finished a paper on Pat Conroy, and I was a huge Bronte’ sisters fan, but did I say any of that? Nope. I stared, open-mouthed, making a sort of squeaking sound in the back of my throat. In retrospect, there was no way my ride-a-bike-with-a-book-on-the-handlebars, John Donne quoting, walk-the-halls-peeking-over-pages brain couldn’t come up with a single name. Something else was at play.

I decided to reinvent myself when I went to college. I tore down the walls I’d hidden behind as a shy little nerd and fully embraced who I am in all my weird, nerdy glory, and at first, everything seemed great. Then the shit bomb went off. My RA turned into a secret evil mastermind intent on my destruction, and she recruited my roommate as a spy in her mission to turn the entire dormitory into Sarah-hating minions. She distorted info from my personal phone conversations and funneled it to my boyfriend. She spread lies about me to the girls at the other end of the hall. That girl couldn’t be human. She had to be something else.

For every big moment of my life, I’ve got a story like this, of near success derailed at the last minute by some supernatural or supergoatful force. My wedding, my jobs, and don’t even ask me about my public performance appearances. And I know I’m not the only one suffering from this affliction.

When I was writing Double-Crossing the Bridge, I knew my trolls were victims too, so I gave it a name: the Billy Goat Blight. Did I freeze at that interview? NO! The goats used sound waves to make my neurons misfire! Was my RA just the jealous ex of my new boyfriend? NO! She was a goat parading around in Becky-skin.

When my book promotion launched this week, we had a rough start. My publisher told me about how so many things seemed to converge to get in our way. But I knew what it really was, and now so do you. So, I’m sorry the goats set fire to your chance to get a free book, but we’ve tunneled through the goat shit to offer you Double-Crossing the Bridge for the super low price of .99¢ on Kindle, Nook, and Kobo.

As for where the goats come from, well that’s a story for book 2 if I ever get around to writing it. Follow me on Twitter, or sign up for my newsletter to find out when I launch a contest revolving around your own stories of doing battle with those damn meddling billy goats.

Add Double-Crossing the Bridge to your TBR.

Want it in paperback? Purchase here.

Visit Sarah's website and read more about DCtB, here.

Double-Crossing the Bridge, by Sarah J. Sover

Rent in New Metta is through the cavern ceiling. When Granu barely survives her first gig teaching students who attempt to fillet her for lunch, the baby-eating troll ends up unemployed and facing eviction. Granu's only prospect for income is grueling work in the tar pits. That is, until her playboy best friend devises a perfect, if suicidal, scheme—a heist!

The Covered Bridge, the largest source of income for the city, has New Metta well under hoof. In a week, TCB Corporation pulls in enough cash to buy a small country. It's the ideal target, but security is top-notch. Granu needs three things to survive this heist: a crew of specialists, impenetrable sun protection, and gallons of grog.There’s just one thing Granu doesn’t plan for—those damn meddling billy goats.


19 views