Ashes to Flames Virtual Book Tour

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Nonfiction

Date Published: March 3, 2025

Publisher: MindStir Media

 

 

Childhood trauma leads to perseverance and personal growth in this
empowering memoir.

Born into a world shrouded by multi-generational cycles of abuse and child
marriages, Donna Simmons navigates a harrowing landscape of pain and
betrayal, detailing the challenges that devastated her early years but
ultimately did not define the person she became.

Through poignant storytelling, she shares both moments of despair and the
small victories that fueled her resilience. Each chapter reveals the
transformative process of healing and self-discovery, touching on the
importance of embracing nature, finding solace in creativity, and connecting
with a community. Ashes to Flame recounts a powerful, deeply personal, and
transformative journey from the ashes of childhood trauma to the vibrant
light of purpose.

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EXCERPT

“You don’t actually think you can change the law, right? I

mean, you’re really naive if you do.” I have certainly had my

share of adversity, but this comment hit me harshly, as it

was coming from a woman who proclaimed herself to be a feminist and

women’s rights advocate, serving as the director of the city government’s

office for women where I lived. And her deflating yet inflammatory

comment came on the heels of my very first time speaking out at a

human trafficking awareness conference at a local university. During

this speech, I filleted my veins wide open, recollecting my own personal

experience of being married off at sixteen years of age to a man in his

early thirties, the same man who I met at a time when he was in a

position of authority over me at the behavioral health facility I had

been admitted to only two years earlier. In this speech, I also disclosed

publicly for the first time the exploitation I suffered as result of this

marriage. Yet somehow this woman had the audacity to proclaim that

this fire burning so brightly inside of me to fight the laws that allowed

and perpetuated these actions, nearly destroying me in the process, was

culpable of naivety.

I wish I could share with you that I had some clever quip back, but

I did not at the time. The only thing I could do was bite my tongue, quite

literally, and allow the hot flush that engulfed my pale skin to happen, as

there was no controlling it. I knew better than to listen to — much less

give energy to — those who would have me believe I was incapable in

any manner. I had already proven so many people wrong, as statistically

I should have been an addict, chronically living in poverty, or some combination

of the two. This is what childhood trauma does to people. This

is what child marriage does to people. This is what sexual exploitation

does to people. And having survived it all, I was determined to stop it.

My ultimate goal in 2016, the divinely guided purpose of my life’s

mission during that season of my life, was to change the state laws that

allowed child marriage to occur through parental consent or judicial

exception. In my own experience, my mother’s consent to me marrying

this much older man who she allowed me to begin dating when I was

just fourteen opened the door to my entrapment in an extremely abusive

and coercive relationship for the years to follow. Yes, with the stroke

of a pen, the man I married at sixteen — who I now refer to as my

perpetrator — was granted a literal license to continue sexually abusing

me, an act that without this signature and the laws that allowed it could

have been prosecuted as statutory rape.

Laws that perpetuate the cycles of sexual abuse, oftentimes

multi-generational cycles, are ultimately perversely immoral. And so it

is to starkly attempt to shut down the efforts of survivor leaders in the

fight to protect upcoming and future generations from the darkness we

blindly crawled our way through to break these cycles once and for all.

Those who abused us sought to silence us. Those who mock our efforts

to make this world a safer place are seeking to do the same. For me,

and many other survivor leaders I know, this adds fuel to our fire, and

we will not smolder to ash without putting up a fight with every bit of

resilience our minds and bodies can muster. I had to do this for nearly

the first twenty years of my life to survive. And I will continue to bring

this forth when necessary now. The stakes are too high to be stagnant

and complacent.

Speaking out for the first time at that conference was a catalyst for

so much to follow that would have me visiting multiple state capitals,

giving testimony to legislative bodies, providing multiple interviews

with local, national, and even international reporters, and even appearing

in a documentary highlighting the problematic prevalence of child

marriage today. My story shines a light on the uncommonly understood

fact that child marriage itself is a form of human trafficking. In my case

specifically, being married to a pedophile positioned him to be able to

traffic me in strip clubs and exploit me through other means. Yet I could

not prosecute him in my early thirties when I first found the strength to

do so, as the state laws in Indiana, where my abuse by this perpetrator

initiated, held a statute of limitations that too much time had passed.

At every turn, instead of the laws being geared to protect me as

a child, the loopholes within them ultimately protected a sociopathic

pedophile from prosecution. This individual does not deserve to have

his name spoken or known, as in doing so he would be granted a sense

of the undeserved illusion of power and prestige. This is how his abusive

and perverse mind operates and I refuse to indulge that in any capacity

any longer. Therefore, throughout this text you will find I use three terms

to acknowledge him: my perpetrator, the pedophile, and the parasite.

He was my perpetrator as he groomed my underage mind and body,

the pedophile that abused me in heinous ways, and the parasite whose

imprint I can never fully escape despite having been away from his toxicity

for years now, as the impact of trauma he imposed upon my life is

a ghostly stain I can never fully shake. These hideous terms are the only

ones befitting of him.

I write this memoir with the intention to form a coalition of

survivor leaders working together with arms linked as we deepen our

healing through community with each other and work toward ending

the laws and other systemic failures that perpetuate crimes against those

vulnerable to abuse and exploitation. There are so many opportunities

for change within our society. Legislation governing underage marriage

laws and state level statutes of limitations that place burden on the victim

of atrocious crimes to come forth before it is psychologically safe enough

to do so must be addressed. Exploitation within mental health institutions

and other helping professions must be more thoroughly researched

and acknowledged, with perpetrators held accountable. Systemic change

across these focus areas is critical for traumatic cycles to have opportunity

to cease within families and communities as a whole. Everything is

interconnected with mental health and trauma recovery residing at the

core of the issues at hand.

It is my belief that when we survive atrocities, we have a responsibility

to find purpose in the events that changed us — or perhaps

molded us if the abuse began very early on in our lives. The duration of

this lifetime on Earth is so very limited, but we must be mindful and

focused on the legacy we choose to leave for generations to come. The

imprint we make on this world will be experienced long after our last

breath, meaning we can plant seeds for trees we may never enjoy shade

from, gratefully knowing our descendants will. For me, these trees are

the ability to create a life one does not have to spend years recovering

from, as I have.

One thing is for certain. Regardless of those who would have me

dilute my voice, I will continue my efforts to bring an end to the antiquated

laws that perpetuate crimes against children.

About the Author

Donna Simmons

My name is Donna Simmons, and I’m a wife, mother, author, and avid
advocate for breaking cycles of generational trauma and mental health
recovery.  As a Governor appointed member of the Kentucky Juvenile
Justice Advisory Board and member of the Bakhita Empowerment Initiative
Advisory Board, I work with public servants and providers across the state
to support a reduction in juvenile system involvement and strengthening
protective factors for high risk youth.  My passion for this work comes
from my direct experience as a child abuse survivor, involvement in a
behavioral health facility when I was 14, and resulting grooming and
exploitation by a 29 year old mental health professional who I was married
off to as a child.

In my healing journey, I have recognized that true trauma recovery can only
occur when we are willing to examine the generational cycles that keeps us
bound in harmful patterns.  My mission is to help others transform
their trauma into purpose so they can break these cycles and reach their
full potential as individuals and parents.

 

Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Instagram- @transformingashes2flame

TikTok- @ashestoflame

 

Purchase Link

Amazon

 

 

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The Belmont Virtual Book Tour

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Fiction

Date Published: February 28, 2025

Publisher: MindStir Media

 

The Belmont is a tale of a young man’s struggles with a heartbreak he
cannot get past, set against the backdrop of a bacchanalia-filled weekend
centered around the 1998 Belmont Stakes horse race, which ended with a
Triple Crown bid thwarted by a photo finish. During a long
“weekend” spread out over six days and in three different states,
a weekend fueled by alcohol and sexual tension, but also filled with
reflective, heartbreaking, exhilarating, hilarious, and heartwarming
moments, Tommy Cippolini embarks on a journey of self-discovery,
experiencing just about every single human emotion along the way. In between
episodes filled with anger and frustration, anticipation, anxiety,
disappointment, sexual arousal and temptation, binge drinking, daringness
and trepidation, hilarity and debauchery, and longing and sadness, Tommy
confides in good friends, casual friends, strangers, and family members
about his feelings and past trials and tribulations.

The Belmont tablet

EXCERPT

CHAPTER 1

Wednesday, June 3, 1998.

On the road, while looking back.

Tommy Cippolini steered his 1991 Nissan Sentra toward the exit ramp off Route 684 in upstate New York and onto Route 287 West to begin the last major phase of the five-plus-hour drive from his parents’ suburban home just north of Boston to his friend Vince Piolini’s bachelor pad in northern New Jersey. Tommy had been on the road for about four hours now, having departed the Boston area just after the morning rush hour had begun to die down on this Wednesday morning of June 3, 1998.

As his compact car followed the bends along the ramp leading from 684 to 287, the opening strains of Green Day’s “Basket Case” began to blare from his car stereo.

Tommy smiled at the symbolic irony of the most upbeat song on Green Day’s Dookie record starting to play just as he’d finally made it through the longer and more difficult parts of his journey and was now heading into the homestretch. He’d started out the day listening to some “mood” music, particularly some of Pink Floyd’s later albums, including the very depressing Final Cut, because he wasn’t in the best frame of mind when he’d left home that morning. But, as he got deeper and deeper into his drive and closer to his final destination, he perked up, switched over to some Black Crowes, and then decided to pop Dookie—one of his favorite records of the ’90s—into his car’s CD player.

Vince’s place was located just off Exit 148 on the Garden State Parkway, and Tommy now had just one more highway change to make before reaching the Garden State and the last leg of his drive: driving west on Route 287, crossing the Tappan Zee Bridge, and then hooking up with the Garden State not too far beyond the other side of the bridge.

Tommy was making this trip to New Jersey to kick off the annual Belmont Stakes Weekend. Vince and his friends had been attending the Belmont Stakes Triple Crown horse race every year since at least the 1980s. In actuality, they didn’t “attend” the race so much as stake out a spot inside the gates of Belmont Park, but outside the racetrack facility itself, along with hundreds of other people with the same idea, and camp out for essentially an all-day picnic filled with massive amounts of food, alcohol, and other debauchery. It was the ultimate male-bonding experience.

For Tommy, though, this was just his second Belmont Stakes, having attended his first one just the year before, in 1997. Tommy was eight years younger than Vince and the rest of the Belmont crew, which was comprised of Vince’s old high school friends from Yonkers and his college friends from the University of Delaware, most of whom he’d known since the ’70s. He’d met Vince during his sophomore year in college at the State University of New York (SUNY) at New Paltz, when Tommy was nineteen, but Vince was already a twenty-seven-year-old grad student who’d opted to live in the dormitories on campus rather than renting an apartment or commuting like most other grad students did.

Vince was a smart, gregarious, fun guy with an extremely calm demeanor, a math-oriented mind, a meticulous nature, an almost impossible wellspring of optimism flowing from every pore of his body, and big dreams. He and Tommy became fast friends and had remained very close through all of life’s trials and tribulations.

Unsatisfied with his early post-college life, Tommy had moved to Miami in 1990, spending five-plus years there, and so he’d missed out on all the Belmont fun during his years living in South Florida.

He decided to head back to the Boston area in 1995 for numerous reasons, but the primary reason for Tommy’s return to Massachusetts was the fact that his brother and two sisters lived in different states and had their own families, so there was no one around to take care of their parents if anything should happen to them. At that point in time, both of Tommy’s parents, while retired, were in good shape and doing just fine. But he knew that situation wasn’t going to last forever.

He also had one other, major reason for leaving South Florida and heading back north: He was heartbroken, as his fiancée, Alissa—a woman he’d been seeing, admittedly off and on, for ten years—had broken up with him several months before he’d left Miami. In reality, they were “engaged to be engaged” since no ring had been purchased or placed on Alissa’s finger—yet. Still, the wedding plans were in the talking stages, and Alissa had agreed that, at least at first, the couple would make their home in South Florida since her sister also lived in the area at the time. Things came crashing down in early 1995 when Alissa’s rich parents, who’d known Tommy since 1985 and always seemed to like him a lot, decided that he wasn’t good enough for their daughter. She listened to them and ran off to start dating some guy who had a seven-figure bank account.

So, Tommy limped back home that December and tried to regroup and begin anew. It took about sixteen months for him to get his life back on reasonably solid footing. Things weren’t perfect, but Tommy felt they were good enough, at least, for him to finally attend his first Belmont with Vince and his buddies.

 

  About the Author

My name is Anthony Cocco.  I’m 59 years old and a native of
Malden, Massachusetts, but I’ve spent most of the last 21 years living
about 20 miles north of Boston. Since 1997, I’ve worked in the
financial services industry (some asset managers and some retirement
services providers), in various roles, and recently started my fifth
different job in that industry in February of 2025. Prior to that, I worked
(out of college) in the health insurance field, mainly in customer and
provider relations (three different companies in two different
states—Massachusetts and Florida).

I am the fourth (and final) child born to the late Morris and Dorothy
Cocco. I have two living (and one recently deceased) siblings, one brother
and one sister (my eldest sister passed away suddenly in July 2024 at age
72).

I have no children of my own and have never been married, but I do have
five nieces and nephews (3 of the former and 2 of the latter), two of which
are the daughters of my late sister. Since I’m the only one of our
parents’ kids to have remained living (for the most part) in
Massachusetts, the rest of my family (except for some cousins) is somewhat
spread out across the country.

I attended the State University of New York at New Paltz from 1984-88,
where I earned a (largely unused) degree in Journalism (I wanted to be a
sports broadcaster but got sidetracked when someone convinced me I needed to
be a sportswriter instead). It wasn’t long before I realized that
vocation wasn’t a good match for me, but my years at New Paltz
weren’t entirely wasted because it was during that time when I met one
of my lifelong friends, the guy who introduced me to the “Belmont
Stakes crew”—his friends from his youth and from his undergrad
college years. One of the main characters in my book is based on him, and
all of the characters that make up the entire Belmont “tribe”,
as I call it in the book, are based on his friends and other acquaintances.

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The War in Heaven Virtual Book Tour

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Fantasy / Adventure / Religious & Spirituality

 

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After a third of Heaven’s angels rebel, a fearful archangel struggles to
save Heaven, humanity, and his older brother from absolute ruin.

Moving beyond that, The War in Heaven is an epic allegorical myth that
explores humanity’s endless struggle with a multitude of psychological,
ideological, and emotional conflicts. It ultimately presents a transformative
journey of two brothers that discover peace in the face of addiction,
diversions, anger, fear, and desire.

As mentioned, The War in Heaven is an allegory. It’s a story of
one’s relationship with reality. It’s an invitation to look at our
identities, our relationship with ourselves, other human beings, and the world
around us. It’s about facing internal and external conflicts and
ultimately obtaining peace.

 

The War in Heaven tablet

QUOTES & ONE LINERS

One archangel stands between salvation and ruin.  

Heaven’s in turmoil.  One archangel’s mission: save everything.  

In a world filled with conflict, is peace an impossible mission?  

Heaven is now. It’s always facing rebellion.

One archangel could spell doom for all.  

 

About the Author

Mano has always been interested in belief and value systems (i.e., philosophy,
psychology, religion, and mythology), and the study of inherited truths.
Specifically, how we create our realities every day through the adoption of
prescribed precepts and largely unquestioned thoughts. Mano is an award
winning visual artist that has over 23 years of higher education teaching
experience. His work has been highlighted in national and international
competitions and has been exhibited in art museums and galleries across the
United States. Mano’s formal education includes a BFA, MFA and MBA
degree.

 

Contact Links

Website

Instagram

LinkedIn

 

Purchase Links

 

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Innocent & Sweet Blitz

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Innocent & Sweet cover

 

Contemporary New Adult Romance

Date Published: June 20, 2025

 

Anissa Dunn wants one man — Kameron. He’s got looks, brains and a
boatload of attitude… and all that muscle. A girl can only take so
much, and he’s her heart’s desire. She’s not afraid to give as good as
she gets and she wants him to be her teacher in all things carnal.

There’s only one catch — he’s her bodyguard and the rules state she can’t
date the staff.

But rules are meant to be broken…

Innocent & Sweet paperback

 

EXCERPT


I will make him notice me.
Anissa adjusted her dress. The cherry-red halter
frock hung on her thin frame. So much for the correct fit. She sighed. No
matter what she did, she couldn’t put on weight. She debated what to add to
improve her figure. If she wore the leather jacket, she’d appear edgy. The
clunky boots helped increase her height, so she was fine there. But her
bust… drat. She peered down at her chest. A wave of nausea hit her as she
thought about her dating past. Guys didn’t want to date a woman with a flat
chest — or so they’d told her.

She spied the gel bra cups she’d bought during her last trip to the fabric
store. If she had boobs, maybe the guy of her dreams would finally notice her.
He had to.

Anissa stuffed the chilly padding beneath the cups of her dress. Her boobs
looked huge. Instead of the burst of confidence she’d expected, she hated her
reflection in the mirror. The additions didn’t fit her frame. But she had a
date and no choice but to do her best to entice him. If fake boobs worked,
then fine. She’d take her chances.

She donned the jacket, then grabbed her purse and hurried downstairs.

Kam stood in the foyer. He wore the same battered leather jacket, faded jeans
and dark sunglasses as he always did. He touched his earpiece. “In position.”

Her heart fluttered. Kameron Stone personified sex in human form. Her nipples
ached, and she pressed her knees together. She’d never been with a man and
wanted Kam to be her first. If she had her way, he’d be her only.

Would he fuck her?

Better yet, would he love her the way she loved him?

“I have the package,” Kam said. “Preparing to leave.”

She frowned. The package. She didn’t have the honor of being referred to by
her name. Gaining his attention wasn’t going to be easy. “I’m ready.”

Kam nodded. “This way, Ms. Dunn.”

“Anissa.” He’d used her last name. Dang it. She’d pleaded with him so many
times to call her by her first name. Ms. Dunn was her mother. She was just
Anissa.

“Ms. Dunn.” Kam escorted her to the front porch, then down the steps. He
opened the passenger door of the limo. “After you.”

“Thanks.” She couldn’t leave the house without her trusty bodyguard, Kam. She
settled on the seat and folded her hands on her lap. Kam would do anything to
protect her, and she trusted him, but she was twenty-one and her father needed
to put some faith in her. He’d sheltered her from everything. She didn’t
resent him for trying — when she turned twenty-five, she’d come into a hefty
sum of cash via the trust her mother had left her, but still. She’d gone to an
all-girls college, a private all-girls high school and never spent more than a
few hours on her own. She crossed her legs, and her skirt rode high on her
leg. Did Kam notice? Did he care?

She swept her gaze over him as he sat beside her. Strong and silent. He wore
his clothes like a second skin, could eviscerate anyone who tried to get too
close, but Kam said so little. Half the time she had no idea if he listened to
her. Knowing him, he tuned her out.

“Kam?” She shifted in her seat to face him. Her skirt rode higher. He didn’t
pay her any attention, which rankled her. “Kameron.”

“Ms. Dunn.” He seemed to stare straight ahead.

She whipped out her phone. She couldn’t go through with the date. Not now. She
sent a text to the driver, requesting he stay in the driveway. She’d sent the
itinerary to the security team but saw no point in leaving the house. Kam
wasn’t paying attention to her — not in the way she wanted. He didn’t seem to
care.

She sighed. According to the magazines she’d bought, her college roommate and
the dirty movies she’d watched in the middle of the night, she had to be
aggressive and demand what she wanted. Sure… she could be aggressive. She
could demand his attention. But she wasn’t sure how.

Anissa switched seats to face Kam. The car rolled to a stop, most likely in
front of the house. She parted her legs and leaned back. “Kam.”

If he looked at her, she couldn’t tell.

“Ms. Dunn?” Kam tensed, and the muscle in his jaw twitched. “Are you okay?”

Nope. He hadn’t noticed her lousy attempts to entice him.

“I’m fine,” she mumbled. What a liar…”I’d like to talk to you.”

“Of course.”

He had to make this hard. Fine. She’d be tough. “Did you know where we’re
going?”

“I do. I’ve been informed you’re to visit Ahuja Cancer Center for the opening
of their pediatric wing,” Kam said. “Would you like to change?”


The opening of the pediatric wing?
She’d never seen that request. “Since
when?” Irritation filled her brain. If she’d known she had a real date, she
wouldn’t have dressed like a streetwalker.

“Your father amended the plans for this evening.” Kam’s tone remained
annoyingly flat. “You’re dressed a bit… inappropriately for the event. You
should consider a more conservative outfit.”

Damn. She shrugged out of her coat. Men wanted blunt, didn’t they? She squared
her shoulders, then straddled his lap. She flipped her hair over her shoulder.
Holy hell. Sitting on his thighs reminded her of being on a bench — so strong
and hard… sturdy. Her nerve endings tingled. What would her stern bodyguard
do if she flashed him? Of if she embraced her bold side and stretched across
his lap, demanding a spanking? The women in those videos liked being spanked.
The idea of having her ass reddened intrigued her. She’d never asked for
punishment in her life, but she wanted Kam to dish some out — right now. She
shrugged out of the jacket.

“Ms. Dunn.” Kam’s tone hitched a bit, but his expression remained blank.

She removed his sunglasses. Looking into his eyes was much better — and scary
as hell. She pursed her lips. Was she coming across as sexy? Shoot. Now she
wished she’d left his sunglasses in place so she could use the reflection. Too
late now. She licked her lips. If she was going to make a move, she needed to
do it already. She draped her arms around his neck. “I need you to help me.”

 

About the Author

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of
more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since
2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and
paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her works
are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a
second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been nominated at
the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best Ménage, Best BDSM and
Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on various
e-tailer sites.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as
well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but
football is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends
of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.

 

Author on Twitter

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Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress

Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15

 

 

 

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Katy in Central Park Blitz

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Book 2 in the Kitty in the City Series

Children’s Book

 

A chapter book for ages 5–7

 

Date Published:
06-18-2025

 

Publisher: Crimson Dragon Publishing

 

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Broadway’s favorite singing cat is back on the scene—and this
time, she’s headed to Central Park! In Katy in Central Park, Katy is
ready for a quiet day with her owner Lilian… until their picnic basket
is suddenly snatched.
With her best cat buddy Weasel at her side, Katy
dashes through the park’s winding paths, determined to solve the
mystery. But is everything really what it seems?
This charming chapter
book, written and illustrated by Ella English, is full of fun, friendship, and
feline flair—plus an important lesson about thinking twice before making
snap decisions.
🎉 Bonus alert!
At the end of the book, young readers can dive into a
bundle of Did You Know? facts about Central Park.
Did you know Belvedere
Castle is perched high above Turtle Pond and used to house a weather station? Or that Central Park Zoo is home to snow leopards, sea lions, and red pandas?
There are over 280 species of birds in the park, and the entire park is 843
acres—that’s about 640 football fields!
✨ Book
launches June 18—International Picnic Day!
Celebrate by grabbing a
blanket, heading to Central Park, and sharing a storytime picnic with Katy the
singing cat!

 

Ella English

Ella English is a British author and
illustrator known for her children’s books, particularly her Kitty in the City
series and the Merblood Saga. She writes and illustrates imaginative stories,
often with themes of dreams, adventure, and friendship. After moving from
London, Ella English now lives in Baltimore, USA, with her two daughters.

Contact Links
Twitter:
@authorella1
Author Instagram:
@ellaenglishauthor
Publisher Instagram: Instagram
@Crimsondragonbooks
TikTok: tiktok.com/@ellaenglish
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