Like many writers, I don't LOVE when I have to get my picture taken. My last photos were taken right before my first book came out and my hair was down to the middle of my back and I was denying my curls their rightful place in this world. It was time for an update!

Check out my new author and promo photos (taken by Out of Focus Photography)! 

Hey everyone! I will be at Kenosha Creative Space in downtown Kenosha on August 25th from 3-7PM! Come grab a copy of Everly with the new cover or just come say hello! 

Hey everyone! Book 1 in The Everly Series has a fancy new cover! Two of my personal heroes read EVERLY and gave me some great cover quotes! (I am still in shock!) This cover also features the award seals I won since the book was first published. 

If you are wondering why the cover itself has changed, my publisher (and myself) really wanted the cover to reflect the darker tone of the book. My cover artist, Don Kramer did an amazing job!

Book 2 of The Everly Series, ROSEWOOD BURNING has a cover too! Watch for that cover reveal on PureFandom.com soon! 

​Grave Confessions
Part Three: Allison
​
It was nearly night. The cemetery would be dark soon, but that was fine with me. I liked the dark nights here, when the animals would leave their hiding spots and roam free. It felt more like the Beacon Hills I used to know, when I was still alive.
My name is Allison Argent and I am dead.
It was always good to remind myself of that, just in case. When my friends weren’t here, it was easier for my memories to slip, and I never wanted to forget who I used to be.
It felt like ages since Lydia had visited and planted the marigolds that now surround my gravestone, but I never really knew how much time had passed between moments like that.
Time meant nothing to me, which was the best and the worst thing about being dead.  
I heard a rustling, followed by the low rumble of a truck pulling closer. The familiar green truck pulled off of the paved path and sat parked on the grass in front of the line of trees that stood across from grave.
I had seen the truck before. It was the landscapers who took care of the property. A short, husky man I didn’t recognize hopped out of the truck, holding a phone to his ear.
“Okay, all of them?” He asked before he slammed the truck door. He nodded as the person on the other end was likely talking.
“Yeah, I agree. Better safe than sorry. We’ll have them cleared out by next week.”
He paused.
“This weekend? I have my nephew’s graduation.”
He switched the phone to his other ear and put a hand on his hip.
“Yeah, I understand. I just – yeah, okay,” the man replied. His shoulders slumped as let out a sigh. “I will start cutting them down tomorrow.”  
No.
The trees were the only way I could talk to Lydia! She said she could hear my voice when the wind rustled the leaves of the trees. They can’t cut them down!
I need these trees!
The landscaper continued his call and walked back to the truck. He grabbed a canister and spray painted a giant “X” on the tree closest to my grave.
Stop! You can’t do this!
He went to the next tree, clearly unable to hear me. And why would he? Lydia was the only person who could.
Hey, landscape guy! My banshee best friend can only hear me because of these trees! You can’t cut them down!
Shut up, Allison. You sound like an idiot.
Actually, I didn’t sound like anything. Dead girls couldn’t be heard by the living.
Well, except one.
I looked on as the landscaper painted his final “X” on the last tree in the cemetery. It felt like the actual last nail being hammered into my coffin. If nobody could see or hear me – I really would be gone. I needed to do something.
Maybe I could scare him away?
It was a stupid idea, but it was my only idea. I got closer to the landscaper as he walked back to his truck. I had never tried to scare anyone, but if it kept the trees here, it would be worth it.
Um, boo!
I cringed at myself as I waved my arms around in front of the landscaper.
Great, Allison. You are officially the worst at this.
Despite Lydia making me watch Ghost a dozen times when I was alive, I had never actually been able to move things in death like they did in the movie. But that wasn’t going to stop me from trying.
I moved myself between him and the door. He reached out to grab the door handle and paused for a moment. He pulled his hand back quickly.
Yes!
He looked at his palm for a few seconds and shivered.
 “Okay, you win,” he said.
Yes! Now go away and never come back!
“Yep, I will start clearing them out tomorrow,” the guy said as he opened the truck door, hopped in and slammed it shut.
No.
I watched the truck back up. It was dark now and as he turned the truck around, his headlights hit the doomed trees, casting giant moving shadows all over the cemetery.  
I felt a wave of panic wash over me and for the first time since my death, I was truly afraid.
I will be lost forever now.  
That’s when I heard a scream in the distance - one that was all too familiar.
It was Lydia. 

(all character rights to Teen Wolf/MTV) 

There will be a new review of "Everly" in the August 2017 issue of the Midwest Book Review online book review magazine "Small Press Bookwatch"! 
 
Here is the review:
  
Everly
Meg Bonney
Pandamoon Publishing
 
Critique: A wonderfully entertaining read from beginning to end, "Everly" reveals author Meg Bonney's undeniable gift as a fantasy novelist with a genuine flair for originality, deftly crafted characters, and a memorably unpredictable storyline replete with unexpected twists and turns. Certain to be an enduringly popular addition to community library Action/Adventure Fantasy Fiction collections, it should be noted for personal reading lists that "Everly" is also available in a digital book format (Kindle, $2.99).

When I write, sometimes it helps me to put together some images to remind me of the characters. Here are some of the character images that I made for EVERLY book 1! 

​Grave Confessions
Part Two: Lydia
The slam of a car door in the parking lot broke the silence of the cemetery that windy morning. The birds shuffled from the ground and flew up into the trees, as her high heels clicked across the pavement.   
Lydia.
She stopped at the foot of my grave and pressed her bright red lips together. She didn’t look at my headstone like Stiles had, instead, she looked around, her eyes wide. She cleared her throat and shook her head.  
“Quiet please.”
Banshee stuff.
Lydia lifted her chin and let out a long sigh through a small part in her lips. She didn’t look as comfortable here as Stiles had and didn’t visit nearly as often but I knew she’d come today. She finally focused on my headstone for a few moments. Her eyes welled.
Don’t cry, Lydia.
“Hi Allison.” A tear rolled down her cheek.
She always cried when she came to visit. Especially the first time. She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. I watched her eyes trace the letters on my headstone but her sadness switched to annoyance when her focus landed on the wilted flowers that Stiles had left.
Her eyebrow shot up.
“Stiles,” she said and shook her head. “I know I should say it’s the thought that counts, but something tells me these flowers were not given to him willingly.”
Lydia rolled her eyes but a slow smirk crept on her face. She softly bit her lower lip as if to keep from smiling even more.
Stiles could always make her smile.
Some things never change.  
She sniffled and crossed her arms before looking to the left, then to the right at the headstones on either side of mine.
“Pretty flowers.” Each had flowers planted at the base of the headstone and they were in full bloom this time of year. 
Lydia let out a huff and titled her head and bent down. She picked up the flowers Stiles had left. “Oh, Stiles. A for effort.” She set them on top of my headstone.  
Then, her green eyes darted back and forth. She looked up toward the sun and checked her phone. I could see the wheels turning in her head and in an instant she was gone.
Just me again.
I wasn’t sure how long she was gone but before I knew it, she had returned.
Her strawberry blonde curls bounced as she walked to my headstone with purpose. In her hands she held a black tray of bright, yellow flowers. A canvas bag swung from the bend in one arm, her purse on the other. She set them all down on the grass.  
What are you doing?
“You need flowers. Now, I have never done any gardening before this very moment, nor do I have any experience in botany, but it’s biology. I got an A in AP Biology,” she said quickly in her raspy voice. “I will not have my best friend’s grave being the only one without decent flowers. Not that the ones pulled from someone’s yard by my cheap but well-meaning boyfriend, aren’t decent, of course.”
Her cheeks reddened.  
Finally.
She smiled as she unpacked the shopping bag. Each item she pulled out still had a price tag attached to it. She didn’t even bother to remove the tag from the green gardening clothes before slipping them on.
“Okay, so based on the amount of sun and the heartiness of the species, I went with the Tagetes patula.” Lydia explained. “Marigolds, if you aren’t familiar with the Latin term.”
Lydia took the small hand shovel and began digging in front of my headstone, making a small dirt pile off to the side. “These will hold up well and your Dad won’t have to do too much. Just water and pick off the dead heads. I will email him the care instructions when I get home. Or maybe I’ll just send them to Scott’s mom.”
She pulled the first cluster of flowers out and placed the clump of dirt that hung under them into the ground. “This color is perfect. And they are French Marigolds, which seemed fitting.”
She continued digging and planting. Digging and planting.
There was a gentle calm to her that I hadn’t noticed the last time she visited. She was always confident and strong but now, she had an ease to her too.
Sweat beaded on her forehead as she meticulously placed each flower into the ground.
“There,” she said when the tray was empty.
She sat back on her heels and pulled her green gardening gloves off, letting them fall to the ground. Her smile fell as she sat back with her legs tucked under her. She stared at my headstone as the breeze caught her hair.
“I miss you, Allison.” Lydia pursed her lips.
I miss you too.
“It still doesn’t feel real. Not that anything in our lives is really all that centered in reality,” she pointed her finger. “But this. You. That still feels like a really bad dream.”
Give it time.
Lydia sighed and pulled a bottle of water from her bag. As she took a drink, a buzz came from her purse. Lydia pulled her phone out and smirked as she clicked the speaker button.  
“Hi Miechy!” She said and set the phone down.
“Lydia, you know I hate that nickname, right?”
“I know, but it’s adorable when I say it, isn’t it?” She grinned mischievously at her phone.
“Everything is adorable coming from those lips. Where are you, it sounds windy.”
“Oh, I have you on speaker because my face is all sweaty.” She looked at her hands. “Ew, and these gloves were a terrible investment because there is dirt under my fingernails.”
“What? Are you okay?” His tone changed to worried. “Where are you?”
“I’m fine. Just visiting Allison.”
“Oh, yeah. Okay, do you want me to come there?”
“No, no, I’m just finishing up. You can meet me at my house if you want,” Lydia replied.
“I’m already here.”
She leaned closer to her phone. “Good. I’ll meet you in the shower.”
Stiles mumbled incoherently. “Yeah, um, okay, yeah.”  
“Love you. See you in a few.”  She clicked the phone.
“That’s still too fun.” Lydia said as she tossed her phone back into her purse.
Lydia poured water from her water bottle onto the golden flowers and saved herself one final sip. She gathered her supplies onto the tray and hooked her purse and the canvas bag on her arm before she stood.
She waited until the wind rustled the trees one more time.
Tell my Dad that I love him. And Scott. Tell him too.
“I will.” Lydia replied softly.
Bye Lydia.
She looked up at the trees but they were still. The wind had died down again and all that I could hear were the birds chirping.
And judging by the look on her face, I knew that’s all she could hear too.  
“Bye Allison.”
And then she was gone.
 
(All rights to Teen Wolf and the characters to MTV) 

I'm currently writing book 2 of the Everly Series, called Rosewood Burning. Writing is going well, but I really need your help naming a character. This character will play a big role in the events of Rosewood Burning but that's all I will tell you about them (for now). 

So how do you enter? Well, that's the extra fun part! Make a meme/GIF/graphic/video using a quote from EVERLY book 1 and email it to contact@megbonney.com. I will pick my favorite and name a character after you in Everly Book 2: Rosewood Burning! 

Limit 2 entries per person please! Make sure you credit Everly by Meg Bonney on the graphic, as well as your name or twitter handle. 

I will pick a winner 4/10 and I will share all of your awesome creations here on my website and on my twitter. 

​Grave Confessions
Part One: Stiles 
 
 
My name is Allison Argent and I am dead.

I repeated it once more, this time out loud, or at least I thought it was out loud. Repeating it made it easier to remember when things got fuzzy. And the longer I was gone, the fuzzier it got.

My name is Allison Argent and I am dead.

It was always hard to tell if the thoughts in my head ever actually left my lips. Really, it was hard to tell anything anymore but the one glaring fact of it all was that I wasn’t alive. No matter how alive I felt. I had died in the arms of my first love, while protecting my friends.

I died, but I wasn’t gone.

I should have known that death in Beacon Hills wouldn’t be as simple as a bright, white light but at least it was peaceful. I was never quite sure where I was when I wasn’t at my grave, but I knew it was warm and safe, just like Scott’s arms.

Scott. That was something that never got fuzzy. The memories of my life remained strong. It was the concept of time and place that got hazy for me now and then.

Maybe it was this town or maybe my last name but I wasn’t able to leave it all behind. Not permanently anyway. Even as I hypothesized reasons why my spirit remained in Beacon Hills, I knew the answer. My friends. And my Dad. My fight had ended but theirs was still raging on and they still needed me.

“Hey Allison.”

Stiles. My most frequent visitor, after my dad, of course.

Stiles fiddled with his key ring as his blue, plaid shirt caught the wind and billowed out behind him. He cleared his throat as he tightened his fingers around a cluster of white flowers in his other hand. Little clumps of dirt fell from the stems as he set the clearly stolen flowers down at the base of my headstone.

He stood back up sharply and wiped his hand on his shirt. He always looked uneasy when he first got here, no matter how many times he had visited. Not nervous though, more sad and guilty. And he always brought flowers.

“I took them from Coach,” he said softly with a chuckle. “He planted a garden, can you believe that? The guy can hardly keep himself alive, so I did those flowers a favor, if you ask me.”

Thank you, Stiles.  

He tucked his keys in the front pocket of his jeans and took a seat on the dewy grass.

“So, um. Your dad is good. He’s, uh…he’s actually really good. And dating Scott’s mom, believe it or not,” he raised his eyebrows. “I hope that’s not weird for you. I mean, he seems happy. They both do actually.”  

I smiled. Good. They deserve to be happy.

He titled his head as he gazed at my headstone, not speaking for a bit. It was these quiet moments that made me ache for life. He needed my comfort but all I could do was listen.
“It’s this weekend.” He nodded as he picked his thumb nail with his index finger.  

What is?

“Graduation. Yep, high school is over.” He paused. “Lydia went to get a new dress. Personally, I don’t see why you need a new anything because you have to wear a robe over it, but you know Lydia.”

He smiled brightly. He always smiled like that when he mentioned Lydia. He let out a long, happy sigh.

He touched his finger to his temple like he had just remembered something. “Oh, and I’m sorry I haven’t been here in a while. It’s a … real long story but I was gone. I was gone and I didn’t think I’d ever get back but they did it. Scott, Lydia and Malia. They found a way,” Stiles said. “I know that I will never know what it feels like for you, not really, but now I know what it’s like to feel lost and I just want you to know that we won’t ever forget you Allison. Okay? We will never forget you.”

I know.

“And Scott doesn’t talk about it, but I know he thinks about you every single day. It’s just hard for him to come here, to face you.” Stiles explained. “Scott doesn’t deal with death very well, not that anyone does but I promise you, he has not forgotten you. It’s just, I’ve been coming to this cemetery for so long, that it feels normal to me. But that’s just me.”

I know.

The truth was, Scott hadn’t been here since my funeral. He stood at the gates of the cemetery many times but he didn’t come in. I understood why.  

“It’s hard. He still loves you, Allison.” Stiles half smiled and picked a blade of grass to spin between his fingers. He always did that.  

Two tears escaped his eyes but he kept his face angled to the ground. “When I was stuck in that stupid terminal, I kept thinking about you. About what it must feel like for you. Ya know, to be a memory. And I am so sorry for that. I am so sorry.”

He always said he was sorry. Sometimes he would start with it. Sometimes he would end with it but every time Stiles came to visit me, he apologized for my death.Every time and I think that's why he came here so much. I had spent more time alone with Stiles in death than I ever had in life. 

I don’t blame you, Stiles.  

He wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt. “Lydia says it’s not my fault and that I need to forgive myself but if I had just been stronger, I could have stopped the Nogitsune before all of that happened and you’d still be here with us.  Lydia said it would get easier with time, but after feeling like I was gone for good, I just can’t. And now with graduation … you should be here. You should be here with us. You deserve to be back, more than me.”

He got quiet again. As he shifted on the grass, his phone buzzed. “It’s Lydia. She said she found a dress. And she, uh, she put all these hearts after it.”  

Stiles turned the phone toward my headstone to show me.

That smile spread on his face again. “She loves me. Lydia Martin loves me.” He shook his head. “No matter how many times I say it or hear her say it, it doesn’t sound real.”

I laughed. I knew for a long time how Lydia felt about Stiles. It was about time she did too. 

I could see the joy in his face as he spoke about her. Butterflies. I did miss that. 

“I have to go pick her up now,” he said. “We miss you Allison. I miss you.”

Stiles stood and flicked away the blade of grass he was holding. “I have to go pick up my girlfriend Lydia Martin. Lydia Martin, who is my girlfriend.”

There’s that smile again.

He started walking toward his Jeep but stopped and spun on his heel to face me one more time. 

“And I will get him here. I promise.” Stiles pulled out his keys. "For both of you."

I believe you.

“Bye Allison.”

Bye Stiles.  

And then he was gone. It was just me and the quiet again.  

As a huge fan of hers, I was beyond THRILLED when Carina agreed to read my book. AND she liked it! AHHHHHH! I can't stop smiling!