A touch of philosophy from the wonderful Dorothea Harriman, a character created by Elizabeth George, a great writer who only seems to improve with age: “What I mean is that one’s whole life is an autobiography, don’t you agree? Whether it gets written or not doesn’t make a difference. What goes into it, though? That’s what counts.”
(The Cities Below, #2)
Published by: Lyrical Press
Publication date: January 31st 2017
Genres: Paranormal, Romance
The streets are a battleground for humans, vampires, and demons alike—where survival is a skill, love is a weapon, and the most dangerous act is to care for another . . .
Keir is an assassin devoted to Lady Arianne, the last of her royal bloodline. He is sworn to protect her, and that means eliminating any threat to her life. But while on a mission, he is set upon by a pack of demons, barely escaping with his life.
Cleopatra lives by a set of rules so rigid she no longer knows her true self. But her kind and loving nature resurfaces when she finds a man, bloodied and dying. Moved to help him, she risks her future and her life to save a stranger far below her aristocratic station.
Their attraction to each other is as powerful as it is forbidden. But even as their love grows, Keir keeps his true identity a secret—and this lie is not the only threat to their love . . . or their lives.
Jen Colly is the rare case of an author who rebelled against reading assignments throughout her school years. Now she prefers reading books in a series, which has led her to writing her first paranormal romance series: The Cities Below. She will write about anything that catches her fancy, though truth be told, her weaknesses are pirates and vampires. She lives in Ohio with her supportive husband, two kids, one big fluffy dog, and four rescued cats.
“Before that morning, I hadn’t cried since I was thirteen years old. Sadly, that’s not an exaggeration. But in the middle of that short conversation with Ernie Cox and the rest of the committee, the streak was broken. Warm tears rolled down my cheeks. Not because I felt happy — though I definitely felt happy — but because I felt like I’d been forgiven for all my shortcomings as a writer. This job can be a lonely, lonely ride. And there are moments when it’s nearly impossible to maintain a belief in yourself. Ninety-nine percent of the time the words don’t seem quite good enough. Or the characters don’t seem quite real enough. Or, worst of all, you don’t feel quite talented enough. At the end of every single workday, I find myself muttering the same two sentences, over and over. “I should have accomplished more today. I should have been better.” But on the morning of January 11th, these people on the phone were telling me I had done something good. Something worthy.”
Although Sara Walter Ellwood left the farm long ago for the glamour of the big town, she draws on her experiences growing up on a small hobby farm in West Central Pennsylvania to write her contemporary westerns. She’s been married to her college sweetheart for over 20 years, and they have two teenagers and one very spoiled rescue cat named Penny. She longs to visit the places she writes about and jokes she’s a cowgirl at heart stuck in Pennsylvania suburbia.
She’s also a multi-published and international Amazon bestselling author of the anthology set Cowboy Up, as well as dabbling in the paranormal genre with her The Hunter’s Dagger Series (previously published under the pen name Cera duBois).
So, needless to say, I’m thrilled to have Sara on my blog today, introducing her most recent novel, Heartland (Singing to the Heart Book 3)…
Sex, drugs, and country music. That was the lifestyle for Emily Kendall, a Texas girl who hit it big on the country music charts—until she found herself pregnant and battling addiction. Now out of rehab and seeking a new life for herself and her unborn child, Emily returns to her hometown of McAllister. The last thing she’s looking for is trouble, no matter how good it looks in uniform…
A widower, single father, and former Army Ranger struggling with PTSD, Sheriff EJ Cowley has his own demons to battle while keeping folks safe. The last thing he needs is a troubled celebrity speeding through town in her bright red Maserati. But when someone from Emily’s past threatens her safety and the peace of McAllister, EJ has no choice but to protect her. And soon both will learn there’s more to the other than meets the eye. And that wounded hearts can love again…
“I’m sorry, but I can’t ride you right now.” Emily kissed the horse above her nose, and Tink nuzzled her cheek. “We’ll go out tomorrow. How about that?”
“I remember when you rode that horse everywhere you went.”
Startled by the deep voice, she turned. EJ Cowley leaned on the top rail of the fence, and from the look of it, he’d been there for a while. He’d changed out of the brown uniform of the McAllister County sheriff’s department. She couldn’t help looking him over. Dressed in worn boots, faded jeans, a blue western shirt, and a brown Stetson, he epitomized every sexy cliché existing about how a cowboy should look.
Her heart sped up at the way those clothes fit him. Which irritated the hell out of her. She turned back to her horse and stroked her long face. “What are you doing here?”
“My sister-in-law watches my son while I’m at work.”
She stilled. Had she been quasi-lusting after a married man? Hadn’t he married Raquel Marshall? She glanced over her shoulder at his left hand. No ring. But then a lot of cowboys didn’t wear their wedding bands when they were working. The risk of getting it caught on something was too great.
Despite his clothes, he must have come off duty as the county’s ticket-happy sheriff not too long ago. She patted Tink’s shoulder. “See you in the morning, girl.” As she headed toward the man, who was not hiding the fact he appreciated what he saw, she guessed he wasn’t still married, but she’d been around the world a few times and knew not to take a man’s blatant interest as proof of anything. “You have a son. How is Raquel these days?”
She was close enough to notice his gray eyes had turned as haunted as a gravestone when she asked about his wife. He looked to the left, toward his brother’s house, and from the way a muscle twitched in his jaw, he must have gritted his teeth.
“She committed suicide two years ago today.”
“Oh… I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” she stammered. What else had happened to the people she’d once considered friends she was unaware of? “How old is your little boy?”
He took a deep breath and met her gaze again. She studied his eyes as they moved over her face. God, he had the most fascinating eyes. They weren’t truly blue, but the gray was an odd shade. Too light to be slate, but too dark to be silver. They reminded her of her great-grandmother’s pewter candleholders.
As silence engulfed them, she turned to head for the gate. She had no idea what was up with the sheriff, and she didn’t like her desire to ask. EJ Cowley may have filled her schoolgirl fantasies, but she wasn’t the wide-eyed kid who crushed after the local cowboy-turned-soldier.
At the sound of her name, she glanced past EJ to the porch. Johnny stood there with his toy lightsaber and x-wing. She promised to play a video game with her brother. “Well, it was good seeing you again, EJ.”
She was halfway across the drive when his voice stopped her. “By the way”–He cleared his throat–“I lost your ticket…”
Stopping in the middle of the driveway, she looked over her shoulder at him. His face puckered as if he’d eaten a lemon soaked in vinegar. He took his hat off and ran a hand through his short hair. The setting sun turned the tresses a gleaming gold.
“You lost it?” Damned if she’d make it easy on him. “After going through all the trouble of stopping me a mile away from home?”
Setting his hat back on his head, he cleared his throat again and stood with his feet apart. He gave a quick jerk with his head in the affirmative. “Can’t find it anywhere. No ticket. No proof. You’re off the hook.”
Holy crap, he was gorgeous, and heat flooded her to pool in her belly. She turned, not wanting him to see the way he affected her, and headed for the porch, then lied through her teeth.
“Good, because I’ve already tossed it.” She had every intention of paying the fine, but she was glad he lost the ticket. No decent cop would lose a ticket. Maybe he did it out of remembrance of their childhood friendship. Or was he as attracted to her as she was to him?
With an inward shake of herself, she didn’t let a possible answer formulate in her muddled brain. She couldn’t be anything to him. You’re pregnant with another man’s child and don’t need the added stress! At the door into the kitchen, she ruffled Johnny’s hair and turned, ignoring her self-admonishment. “See you around, EJ.”
“Yeah… See you around.” He tipped his hat and turned on his heel to amble toward his extended cab Silverado.
From inside the screen door, she watched the way he filled out the backside of his Wrangler’s and muttered, “Hell yeah, I hope so.”
If you’d like to see more excerpts, check them out here:
Find Sara online
The other books in Singing to the Heart
Heartstrings, Book 1 and Heartsong, Book 2 are also available in ebook and print.
For other vendor links and book information check out Sara’s website page.
I have been blessed by the fathers in my life: my father Stan Fanning, my grandfathers Paul Fanning and John Walsh, and my stepfather Pete Rathbone. So in honor of today, I’m re-posting a series of blogs I published two years ago, starting with Pete, perhaps the most generous man I’ve ever known. Happy Father’s Day, Pete!
A series celebrating the men who have shown me the meaning of dignity and courage, as well as giving me a love for books, skiing, and RVing (and an appreciation for wrench collecting).
We arrived in Seattle as the Texas A&M Marching Band jammed on the cd player. P.T. (Pete) Rathbone steered his SUV with one hand and increased the volume with the other. My mom tapped along to the beat of drums while still immersed in reading the Wall Street Journal. And I sat in the backseat, cocooned by Aggie music, Cascade Mountains, and gray sky.
An Aggie alum, Pete plays the marching band every Saturday morning before the football team takes to the field. It’s a good-luck ritual, a reflection of Pete’s many interests, which range from farming to wrench-collecting to traveling.
Technically, Pete’s my stepfather but that word somehow reminds me of Cinderella and scrubbing floors–blame it on my strange imagination. Besides, Pete is more than a simple label—he’s friend, confidante, and co-conspirator. He’ll just as easily sit by your hospital bed as take you on a Caribbean cruise. He’s first to donate to a cause or tackle a pasture full of noxious weeds.
The Aggie music continued as we drove onto the ferry for Bainbridge Island. Pete, Mom, and I were silent, admiring the Seattle skyline to the rousing thrum of trumpets, tubas, and drums.
I had never cared much for marching band music before but that has changed, all because of a wrench-collecting Aggie with a generous heart.
Click on the links below to read the rest of my Father’s Day series:
From Borneo to Baja, the adventurers in the following books face obstacles as frightening as any horror movie, except they can’t go home after the lights come on. Some readers will salivate over their stories, ready to sign up for the next trip, while the rest of us can simply enjoy a vicarious thrill, relieved to be reading from the comforts of home.
Snakes, scorpions, sharks, tarantulas, and whirlpools waited for Jonathon Waterman and his wife of one year when they launched their sea kayaks into the Vermilion Sea, better known as the Sea of Cortez. Their two month journey, recounted in Kayaking the Vermilion Sea: 800 Miles Down the Baja, is punctuated with lyrical observations.
Waterman tells of a rocky journey, including a competitive relationship with his wife that sometimes leaves him bobbing in the sea, alone and lost, while she races ahead. However, for every choppy day at sea there are moments of celebration: paddling with dolphins, a brilliant sunset, or the solitude of an uninhabited shoreline.
Departing from nonfiction into author Sandra Cox’s imaginative c, protagonist Piper Dunn straddles two worlds. Love, Lattes and Mutants–a page-turning romp through the world of teen romance–boasts expert touches of humor and a dash of life-threatening adventure (currently free at most distributors and the second in the series is only 99 cents!).
In her public life, Piper is a mousy high school student, hiding her astonishing beauty and trying to get through the day unnoticed. But in private, thanks to her dolphin DNA, she is a defender of ocean creatures, rescuing dolphins and other marine animals from danger. Eventually, Tyler, a hunky new boy at school, starts to see through Piper’s disguise and wants to get to her know better. And Piper has difficulty saying no. (Read the rest of my review here.)
Back in the realm of memoir, Ann Linnea describes the extreme solitude she discovers when she becomes the first woman to circumnavigate Lake Superior in a sea kayak. She tells her story in Deep Water Passage: A Spiritual Journey at Midlife, a humble account of an extraordinary adventure. Paddling in a rudderless sea kayak, Linnea battles not only unforgiving Lake Superior but a desire to make a major life change.
If you push past Linnea’s New Age babble, you are rewarded by an inspirational story full of Lake Superior’s imagery: towering freighters, tree-shrouded islands, and hearty Lake Superior natives. Linnea returns home with not only sore shoulders but the resolve to recreate herself.
While Linnea was forced to travel light due to limited storage space, Tracy Johnston had no choice. She arrived in Jakarta to raft Borneo’s Boh River while her luggage stayed in Los Angeles. Instead of taking this as a sign to head home, she bravely plunges into a series of misadventures, recounted with humor and passion in Shooting the Boh: A Woman’s Voyage Down the Wildest River in Borneo.
Hired by the trip’s sponsor to write about the first rafting attempt of the treacherous Boh, Johnston is joined by not only the guides but two fashion models, a rich Italian, two Australians, and a Chicago attorney. As the journey becomes more challenging, from foot rot to waterfalls, this personality jumble deteriorates into a group of solo travelers intent on survival.
Whether writing memoir or fiction, all of these authors are such vivid storytellers that you will become lost in their adventures: swatting at the black flies Linnea encounters; dripping with perspiration while Johnston describes Borneo’s moist jungle; shivering with cold when yet another wave drenches Waterman; or marveling at the underwater world Cox invents.
Books fill my dreams and consume my waking thoughts. I long to be surrounded by piles of books–old and new, spines bursting through overuse, water-stained from reading in the bathtub, falling open to gorgeous illustrations, and Kindles challenging their electronic memories with thousands upon thousands of ebooks.
So, obviously, I begin the New Year with literary thoughts, including looking forward to the third installment of the Mutant series. And the good news is that the first in the series, LOVE, LATTES, AND MUTANTS, which also happens to be my favorite, is currently on sale for ninety-nine cents through Jan. 31! It’s a fun frolic, packed with high-school angst, a mutant heroine boasting super-hero abilities, and a delicious love interest. Read my review here.
Finding love is hard, even when you aren’t a mutant.
Like most seventeen-year-olds, Piper Dunn wants to blend in with the crowd. Having a blowhole is a definite handicap. A product of a lab-engineered mother with dolphin DNA, Piper spends her school days hiding her brilliant ocean-colored eyes and sea siren voice behind baggy clothing and ugly glasses. When Tyler, the new boy in school, zeroes in on her, ignoring every other girl vying for his attention, no one, including Piper, understands why…
Then Piper is captured on one of her secret missions rescuing endangered sea creatures and ends up in the same test center where her mother was engineered. There she discovers she isn’t the only one of her kind. Joel is someone she doesn’t have to hide from, and she finds herself drawn to the dolph-boy who shares her secrets. Talking to him is almost as easy as escaping from the lab. Deciding which boy has captured her heart is another story…
Warning: Mutants, dolphins and hottie boys
About the author
Multi-published author Sandra Cox writes YA Fantasy, Paranormal and Historical Romance, and Metaphysical Nonfiction. She lives in sunny North Carolina with her husband, a brood of critters and an occasional foster cat. Although shopping is high on the list, her greatest pleasure is sitting on her screened in porch, listening to the birds, sipping coffee and enjoying a good book. She’s a vegetarian and a Muay Thai enthusiast.
Leaves crunched beneath my boots as I stepped onto the bike bath. A thin layer of snow outlined my footprints. Wind poured from Lake Michigan, leaving a chilly aftertaste, like drinking ice-water during a blizzard, and frozen waves stood in the bay.
Despite the frost and naked trees, the cold seemed to whisper of hope and joy—almost a flirtation. Christmas was near. A snowflake kissed my wind-chapped cheek, and a Christmas tree, looking almost embarrassed by its cheerfulness, twinkled from a window.
Turning my back on Lake Michigan, I climbed a hill. A man emerged from one of the houses I passed. He walked across the road with a lop-sided gait, and I raised my gloved hand in a semi-wave. He gave me a smile that matched the temperature and flashed a thumbs-up sign then pumped his arms in imitation of my vigorous march. He didn’t speak, but his grin stretched wider. Yet, his face still seemed frozen.
I continued on but something nagged at me. I wondered what had happened to him. A stroke? An accident?
The sidewalk descended, so steep that I had to jog, thrown forward by gravity. Soon I met the man again on the circular road. I strode down the hill, and he slowly ascended. The smile reappeared on his face. This time excitement reached his eyes–perhaps glad to be walking on this wintry day, full of promise for the cheerful season to come.
I blurted out another good morning, but he was still silent. When we were side by side, I looked into his eyes, then glanced away. The moment ended, a connection almost made yet lost in seconds.
Because, too late, I saw his outstretched hand, opened and waiting for my own hand to be placed inside his mitten. I reached out as he passed, my arm stretching to his back while he continued up the hill. But he didn’t notice my action either. The silent, smiling man crested the hill and disappeared.
As I walked back toward Lake Michigan, I hoped he understood that I hadn’t seen his gesture. I thought about other outstretched hands that I had missed during my life.
When I reached the trail, a solitary woman with a dog strolled ahead of me. The dog, stopping often and sniffing, tugged at its leash. A lamppost was particularly irresistible, and impatience wafted from the woman like cheap perfume. Frizzy curls covered her head like a cap, and I said hello, turning to catch her eyes, hoping for a chance at redemption. She mumbled a greeting out of the side of her mouth, her thin lips turned down.
My thoughts returned to the man on the hill with his awkward gait and silent smile. Next time I’ll be ready for the outstretched hand. During this, of all seasons, I’ll be ready.
Color and creativity burst from the pages in the charmingly whimsical picture book, Santa’s Sleigh-Train, written by Dorinda Shelley with illustrations by Nora Hutton. Simply put, it’s the perfect holiday gift for both children and adults, transporting readers to a magical, wintry world through Nora’s enchanting artwork.
An author, as well as an artist, Nora has illustrated several books, including Sea Turtle’s Journey, which she also wrote. The lyrical text matches the playfulness of the illustrations, making it another excellent gift idea.
Tell me a bit about your journey as an artist?
I began illustrating children’s books about fourteen years ago. The first books I illustrated were for retired dermatologist and writer Dorinda Shelley. Our collaboration led to a series of three books, each introducing a science topic, namely Helium. The inclusion of Dorinda’s farmette, where she and her husband raised their three children, provided a setting for the books. These people, animals, and their four-pillar house began my career as an illustrator.
Most writers and artists can name people and/or events from their childhood that have influenced their art… Does anything from that time period stand out for you?
I began scribbling and doodling at an early age. My father used to donate the cardboard from his new shirt purchases to my juvenile efforts at drawing. My mother and father gave us fantastic coloring books replete with Kings and Queens. I can’t say I always stayed within the lines, but it gave me the opportunity to aim for something elite.
In school my first color sense came from a French class I had in kindergarten. I remember sitting in an attic classroom at Ibstock Place in London. I remember learning colors and the French words for each, via a colors-specific magic-marker dot placed adjacent to the word on a white board.
I also had a nice bookshelf full of books by different authors and illustrators who continue to inspire me: Beatrix Potter, Maurice Sendak, Tasha Tutor, and Eric Carle, and more.
How about when you were older? Any junior high or high school teachers that were memorable?
In junior high school I had an art teacher named Martin Nagy. He ran a terrific art room with all kinds of things like a potters wheel, enameling and embossing equipment, and regular things like pencils, crayons, and ink to create with. He even set us up with silkscreening and type-facing stuff.
In high school I had another good teacher named David Burkett. He had us do wonderful projects where we learned how to think more, design more, and I enjoyed the art room which is now the Wolfe Gallery at Maumee Valley Country Day School in Toledo, Ohio. I recently had my first exhibition there.
I mostly work in pencil and watercolor. I enjoy pastels. both chalk and oil. I always feel there is lots to explore and feel inspiration comes from many things. I think children’s books are a wonderful medium for reasons that I continue to affirm in my work as a substitute teacher.
The variety of children’s wishes, wants, and needs–their ways of coping in a world where they are learning so many things–makes the possibility of communication through pages, enhanced by colorfully-illustrated pictures, an extraordinary thing to do for a living.
Outside of illustrating, what other areas of the art world have you explored?
I worked for a few years as an apprentice art conservator. I worked with three men who taught me some things about materials, the handling, restoration and conservation of objects and sculptures. One summer I went to Italy to work on a dig of Etruscan Art in Tuscany. A town nearby opened a museum which housed the work excavated from the dig. I used to stroll in the beautiful fields spotted with poppies, big round hay mounds, bright green grass, ladies dressed in black, and men sitting at cafes drinking at sundown. I started a children’s book then and stuffed its unfinished pages away somewhere in my luggage. I was told by mentors that I was good with my hands. I kept that thought in mind and then after some consultation with a few other people I decided to pick up my paints and pad and follow my pencil and brush into the world of children’s illustration and other art creations I make with my hands and heart.
I hope to make a few books in the coming years. I have ideas for children’s books, which I keep on a list in a notebook. I am engaged to be married in June, and my fiance Kevin Radwanski and I are taking a trip west with our camper and two dogs. Perhaps this will provide inspiration for a children’s book.
My friend and collaborator in the children’s book, The Lakeside Symphony Comes To Town, Amy Heritage, is a flautist. She and I have performed a few readings. She plays flute while we show images from the book and simultaneously I read the text. I would like to do more of these readings.
When approaching an illustrating project, how do you begin? What’s your process?
I look through books I take a lot of walks or go running, absorb nature and maybe something will come to me while I cook or begin sketching. I have a good grasp of art history, and I like to go to galleries and museums.
I begin to work as quickly as I can, juggling my first few ideas to create a dozen or so more. If I am collaborating, I read the text, make notes, and then develop illustrations through the extrapolation of images that filter through my mind.
I might listen to music, make a palette and begin to fill my paper with what is satisfying to me and my watercolor dreams. I never forget the young audience who may later look upon my completed effort, as somehow they are always near.
And now here’s Sherry…
Tell me a little about the title–how did you come up with it?
I knew the book would be a counting book about birds, so “Ten” and “Birds” were no-brainers. The question was what adjective should be used to describe the birds. I made a list – “silly,” “little,” “funny,”… and finally came up with “zany.” I like the word because it’s different and sounds fun. I realize it’s not a word most preschoolers are familiar with, but after discussing it with my critique group, I decided if kids didn’t know it, they could ask an adult and learn a new word. (Zany means funny, in a crazy or silly way.)
If you had to choose only one writer as a mentor, who would that be?
Diana Jenkins, author of Stepping Stones: The Comic Collection, Now You’re Cooking, and several other books, has literally been my mentor. She was part of my critique group when I lived in Ohio. She has this great ability to see plot holes and generate helpful ideas for polishing manuscripts. I have learned so much from her, and I am extremely grateful for what she has taught me.
Do you recall how your interest in writing originated?
I have always been an avid reader with a vivid imagination. My first stories were written when I was eight years old. I still have a few of those manuscripts. Writing was one of the ways I entertained myself.
Where did your love of books come from? And what were some of your favorite books when you were a child?
My mom always read to me when I was little. That’s where it started. We didn’t have computers and video games when I was growing up, so I read books to keep myself busy.
I enjoyed the Nancy Drew mysteries. I couldn’t get enough of them! One of my first favorite books was James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl. The imagination of the author captivated me.
What did you enjoy most about writing Ten Zany Birds?
Coming up with things that would distract the birds and make them leave the party, was the most fun. I imagined what the illustrations would look like as I came up with the various scenarios. Illustrator, Charu Jain, did a great job bringing it all to life.
What are some of your interests outside of writing?
I am a professional musician, so I enjoy playing the violin, viola, and piano. Outside of that, I like exploring the great outdoors – hiking, SCUBA diving – and seeing new places.
And now for a few goofy questions…
If you were an animal in a zoo, what would you be?
A peacock. Not because they’re pretty – female peacocks aren’t – but because they get to roam around wherever they want, and aren’t stuck in an enclosure. Being stuck in one place would drive me crazy!
Where is one place you want to visit that you haven’t been before?
It’s on my bucket list. I hope to get there in about five years. I’d like to dive the Great Barrier Reef, attend a concert at the Sydney Opera House, and hold a koala bear (because they’re cute!).
If you had a superpower, what would it be?
The ability to teleport anywhere at will. I’d be able to see and do so much more if I could!
Ten zany birds have a party in a tree, singing and dancing. Five have stripes, three have spots, and one has purple polka dots. They’re all having fun, but one by one, they become distracted.
One is frightened by a loud plane. One gets hungry. One wants to race and another needs a bath. Only one stays to sing in the tree, but who will it be?
Ten Zany Birds is a fun, beautifully illustrated picture book. As parents and teachers read, children are introduced to counting and basic subtraction skills. Whenever a bird leaves, the number of striped, spotted, and polka-dotted birds changes, teaching the application of simple classification rules.
Whimsical and entertaining, Sherry Ellis’s tale of ten silly, distractible little birds is an excellent choice for both pre-reader storybook time and early readers.
As an author, Sherry has written children’s books as well as articles for parenting publications. Her book, That Mama is a Grouch, was honored as a finalist in the Parenting/Family category of the 2010 USA Book News Awards and as a finalist in the Parenting/General category of the 2011 International Book Awards. Other awards include first place in the Parenting category of the 2011 Pinnacle Book Awards, the silver award in the 2013 Mom’s Choice Awards, and first place in the Family Matters category of the 2015 Purple Dragonfly Book Awards.
Sherry is also a professional musician who plays and teaches violin, viola, and piano. She has appeared as a soloist in Germany, and was a semi-finalist in the 2004 International Viola Competition held in Paris, France. She is actively involved in the American String Teacher’ s Association, and has served terms as Secretary and Vice President of the Ohio String Teacher’s Association. Sherry is the principal violist of the Georgia Philharmonic.
Additionally, Sherry is a lifetime member of Cambridge Who’s Who and was honored as a 2010 VIP of the year. In 2012, she was honored as a Woman of the Year by the American Biographical Institute for her contributions in the field of music education. Sherry was the recipient of the 2013 Top Professional of the Year award given by Worldwide Who’s Who and has been recognized as a Top 100 Professional by the International Biographical Institute.
Find Sherry on the web