Finding herself freed from captivity, with her captor still at large, Samantha is on guard against everything and everyone around her. Unfortunately, walling up her heart proves difficult when eighteen-year-old Blake Knightley moves in next door. When Samantha starts experiencing strange changes within her, she realizes her captor may have left her more damaged than she originally thought. Now she must turn to Blake for help in order to unearth the truth behind the monster who started this all... or risk experiencing worse things than just falling in love.
Amanda Strong is the author of two paranormal, young adult series: The Watchers of Men and Monsters Among Us.
Amanda has loved to spin tales since childhood. As a child, it was not uncommon to find her hiding in some random corner, scribbling away in her spiral bound notebook, with her bright pink glasses. You could say some things have not changed.
Amanda signed with Clean Teen Publishing in the fall of 2013 and has been blown away by the love and support she’s received from her readers since. Both series have been Amazon best sellers. Hidden Monster, book one in Monsters Among Us, finished as a Finalist in the 2014 USA Best Book Award: Young Adult Category.
When she isn't writing, you can find her chasing her three rambunctious children around the house and spending time with her wonderful and supportive husband. On some occasions you can still find Amanda with her not-so-pink glasses, hiding in a corner reading her favorite latest fantasy novel, or working out only to blow her diet by eating chocolate.
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Now get a closer look @ Hidden Monster!
If I wasn’t mountain biking, I was running. I craved speed and freedom. I had to escape the oppressive perfection of living in the Campbell home. Thinking of my two older sisters, one model and the other a star volleyball player, my legs lunged, lengthening their stride. Not good at team sports and terrified by cameras, I knew my family felt my height was wasted on me.
Even Jeremy gives me a hard time.
A stitch pinched my side. Breathe, breathe. I knew I was going too fast, not pacing myself right. Something was urging me on, pushing me to scale the hill before me, and plunge deeper into the woods. I refocused on my rhythm, my inhales and exhales, and my body realigned itself, goose bumps shooting across my arms. There it is. I’d hit my second wind and I surged on, not caring where my feet led.
It’s freedom! Complete and--
There was a rush of air, a whistling in my ear, and a sting to the back of my arm. Instantly, I tumbled to the ground, sliding into the damp morning dew. Cold dirt filled my nostrils as blackness enveloped me.
I’ve loved writing my entire life! I wrote my first complete novel at sixteen, which sits happily in a box, never to see the light of day. It’s just plain awful! I took a big break from pursuing my dream of being published as college, marriage, kids, and life happened. In 2011, thanks to a friend, the writing bug bit me again, and I’ve been obsessed since!
Who were your inspirations as a writer? Favorite authors?
There are so many incredible authors who have inspired me over the years! If I had to pick a few I’d go with John Bellairs, Mary Higgins Clark, Orson Scott Card, Agatha Christie, Jane Austen, Cassandra Clare, Stephenie Meyers, J.K. Rowling, Gaston Leroux (Phantom of the Opera). There are many more!
How long does it usually take you to write a book?
I wish I could say three months, but alas, it’s more like six months to a year by the time I start to the time it’s polished and ready to be published. I need to get faster! Something I’m working on now ;)
Do you have an interesting writing quirk?
I don’t know if it’s a quirk, but I have to use a mouse! I can’t stand using my laptop’s touchpad. When I write, I prefer to sit at my desk, with a big glass of water and/or cup of herbal tea, a few snacks (sometimes just chocolate). The other thing about me is, when I’m writing, I get so cold. It doesn’t matter the temperature in my house, or what season it is. I end up freezing! So after a minute or two of typing, I usually end up throwing on a hoodie, wrapping up in a blanket, and cranking up the pellet stove fire behind me. I have a pair of awesome fuzzy slippers that are more like booties (they go up to my knees). One day, while cleaning out the closet, my husband was like, “What are these? Can we throw these away?” I’m like, “No way! They keep my toes so warm while I write books!”