Friday, May 6, 2016

Deep Magic & Leprechauns

The Latest News...

Hello from my writing room/ chicken farm!  Yes, I am currently sharing my office with 7 lively little Ameraucana chicks. Don't worry, they're not staying. Once they grow feathers and the weather warms up, they'll be sent to the henhouse and instructed to lay lovely blue-green eggs.

In other exciting news (even more exciting than the chicken invasion),  one of my short stories is
included in the June 2016 edition
of Deep Magic, a  sci-fi and fantasy e-zine overseen by the talented Jeff Wheeler (author of the Muirwood series & the Kingfountain series). The issue includes writings from Brandon Sanderson, Charlie Holmberg, Cecilia Dart-Thornton, and Jeff Wheeler himself. Exalted company, indeed!

More about the e-zine can be found here:

Last bit of extra thrilling news: The Mermaid's Sister is a semi-finalist in the Realm Makers genre award contest! The winner will be announced at the end of July.

Finally, for those of you wondering about my next novel, I'm working hard to get my Leprechauns in order for you, and I'll let you know when they're ready to frolic throughout the land. The working title is "Once a Leprechaun," and it's another fantasy written for young adults (and everybody else who enjoys magical realism or fairy tale-like novels).

Happy reading to one and all!


P.S. Did you know The Mermaid's Sister has
a Facebook page?




Monday, February 29, 2016

A Radio Review

The Mermaid's Sister Featured on

WPSU's "Book Mark"

You can listen here to one of my favorite book reviews, from Kristine Allen of Pennsylvania's State College NPR affiliate:

And don't forget to visit me in Lancaster, PA
on Saturday, March 5, if you're in the area!

Keep reading!

Friday, February 12, 2016

Upcoming Event!

Book Signing in March

I'm very excited to be scheduled to sign books at 
the Barnes & Noble in Lancaster, Pennsylvania.

Please come and say hello if you're in the area that day!

Saturday, December 26, 2015

Ruby's Gift: A Christmas Story

by Carrie Anne Noble

Some people called Ruby a bad dog, and it was kind of true.
The summer I turned eleven, my brothers, sister, and I found Ruby on our porch. She was sitting there like a fluffy, black-and-white, tail-wagging package left by the UPS man. A really smelly package.
On the spot, five-year-old Janie named the dog Rubella Polio (words she’d learned from pamphlets in the pediatrician’s waiting room, being too advanced a reader for Highlights magazine). When I suggested we call the dog Ruby for short, the big fur ball jumped up and gave me a slobbery kiss.
“You’re welcome,” I said, wiping the doggy drool off my cheek with the hem of my t-shirt.
Ben and Doug, my three-year-old twin brothers, let the dog into the house before Mama could object. Not that Mama would have. Mama didn’t do much objecting back then. She didn’t do much other than stare silently at the kitchen wall. If Daddy had come back from the Afghanistan war instead of going to heaven, things would have been different. Before, Mama laughed and sang half the day away. Before, Mama spent hours cooking exotic dinners with unpronounceable names. With Daddy gone, it seemed to take all her strength to boil potatoes.
So, the boys and I gave Ruby a good scrubbing in the downstairs shower. Afterwards, she smelled like coconuts and wet dog, and she was ours.
The next day, Ruby started bringing stuff home. Not stuff you might expect a dog to drag home, like cheeseburger wrappers, dirty diapers, or other dogs’ chew toys. No, Ruby brought home gifts.
The first thing Ruby brought was a bag of barbecue potato chips. (We hadn’t told Ruby they were Mama’s favorite, or that it was Mama’s birthday.) We tied a bow around the chips, sang “Happy Birthday,” and made a party out of it. Mama smiled for three whole minutes.
Two days later, Ruby brought home a pair of Janie-sized, pink, polka dot socks. Janie wore them on her first day of kindergarten, and swore they were the reason she made three new friends before lunch.
In September, Ruby brought home two boxes of my favorite macaroni, several damp comic books for Ben and Doug, a one-armed doll for Janie to nurse, a coupon for free doughnuts, and a yellow scarf. Ruby’s tail slapped the porch with doggy joy whenever she presented us with her findings, so we didn’t have the heart to tell her stealing was a sin.
When Grandma came to visit in October, she called Ruby “a giant, germy, mongrel pest,” and said she’d take her to the SPCA first thing Monday morning. But Ruby ran off and didn’t come back until Tuesday--after Grandma’s Cadillac left the driveway.
Sometimes that fall, I’d catch Mama petting Ruby’s soft head or scratching under her chin. I thought it was a sign Mama was getting a little better. And even a little better was a big deal to me.
When Thanksgiving rolled around, Ruby brought us a voucher for a free turkey from George’s Market. She also brought home the head from the Flynn family’s plastic pilgrim lawn decoration. We buried the head in the garden while Mama stuffed the turkey. Next, Mama got out her fattest cookbook and made sweet potato casserole and green beans with fancy sauce. After dinner, Mama said she was thankful for us kids and Ruby, and she only cried a little.
In the beginning of December, Ruby brought home a snow shovel with a bent handle, and three mittens.
But then, Christmas Eve, Rubella Polio did something very, very bad. That dog brought home the baby Jesus statue from the Oak Avenue Presbyterian Church’s front lawn.
Ben and Doug loved that baby Jesus all morning. They wrapped him in towels and sang him “Away in a Manger” over and over. They tucked him into their old stroller and gave him a wild ride through the entire first floor, laughing so loudly that they woke up Mama from her Saturday morning sleep-in.
When Mama saw baby Jesus, she knew right away where he’d come from. Her face went whiter than milk and then redder than ketchup. She scolded Ruby and sent her slinking out the door and onto the snow-covered porch. And then Mama went and put on the dress I’d ironed hoping she would take us to the Christmas Eve service.
“Mind your brothers and sister,” she told me as she buttoned her green wool coat and clutched baby Jesus to her chest.
When she came back an hour later, Mama looked different somehow.
That afternoon, we strung popcorn and cranberries, and Mama got the musty plastic Christmas tree down from the attic. The twins sang “Deck the Halls” and messed up the words so badly that Mama couldn’t stop laughing.
Tucked in my bed that night, I heard Mama open the front door, followed by the click of Ruby’s toenails on the wood floors. Not long after, I smelled the heavenly scent of Mama’s Christmas-only, orange-cinnamon rolls baking—the ones she was too sad to bake last year.
Christmas morning, bits of wrapping paper flew as we tore into our clumsily wrapped gifts. We kids had given each other things Ruby had “helped” us get, things we’d kept hidden until then: a rubber ball, a pencil case, an eyeless teddy bear, a miniature book of Shakespeare’s sonnets (slightly warped), a satin pouch of Canadian nickels. Mama had wrapped special gifts for each of us, too--although none of hers came from Ruby. She gave Ben and Doug each a tiny glass elephant from her collection. Janie got one of Mama’s flowered teacups, and Mama gave me a book of French recipes.
Breakfast came next, with a lively discussion on how reindeer flew. We were licking the orange icing from our fingers when we heard Ruby barking on the porch.
I opened the door. Holding a red leather leash with Ruby attached was Reverend Craig from Oak Avenue Presbyterian. He was smiling like he’d won a million bucks.
“Merry Christmas,” the pastor said. “I think I found your dog.” He wasn’t looking at me when he spoke. He was looking at Mama. I’d never noticed how handsome Reverend Craig was before, or that he looked about the same age as Mama.
Mama smiled and blushed. “Would you care for a cinnamon roll?” she asked.
Reverend Craig stayed all Christmas day. He came back three times that week, and four times the next.
Like Ruby, he usually brought gifts: a box of candy, a board game, a DVD for us to watch huddled together on our long sofa, a bucket of fried chicken.
The funny thing was Ruby never brought anything else home once Reverend Craig took over. Maybe she knew we finally had everything we needed.
All story rights reserved by Carrie Anne Noble.
Carrie Anne Noble is the author of The Mermaid's Sister, winner of the 2014 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award for Young Adult Fiction. This story was inspired by her family dog--a naughty German Shepherd mix that brings home many truly icky things she should not. 
Find The Mermaid's Sister here on Amazon!

Thursday, October 22, 2015

Just a quick note

This is fun!

Popsugar lists The Mermaid's Sister among its 200 best books of 2015 for women. I'm ignoring the fact that they seem to have forgotten O'Neill is a guy. :)

There are lots of good books on the list & a few I'm adding to my personal TBR pile.

Check it out here:

Thursday, October 1, 2015

Book Signings Ahead!

The Mermaid's Sister, Bookstore Visits,

& a Star Whale

Below, you'll find a press release for a book signing I'll be doing in Lewisburg, Pennsylvania at Barnes & Noble at Bucknell University. I thought I'd post it here because it contains a little bit about the book (The Mermaid's Sister)and the author (me!)--in case you don't know us.
If you're in central PA, please come & meet me at Webster's Bookstore & CafĂ© on November 6, 2015, during State College's First Friday events. I attended Penn State there, so I'm very excited to be revisiting its hometown.
Check out my events page for more info on signings & appearances, including links to the stores' websites. I hope to meet you soon!

Lewisburg Bookstore to Hold Signing for Award Winning Author

LEWISBURG, PA- On Friday, October 2, Barnes and Noble at Bucknell University (400 Market St.) will host a book signing event with Carrie Anne Noble, winner of the 2014 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award for Young Adult Fiction. Noble will sign copies of her novel “The Mermaid’s Sister” from 6 to 8 p.m.

Opening in Pennsylvania’s mountains in the 1870s, “The Mermaid’s Sister” tells the tale of Clara and Maren, 16-year-old foundlings adopted by an old healer woman. When Clara discovers shimmering scales on her sister’s side, she realizes Maren is becoming a mermaid—and there is no cure for being who you truly are. Because mermaids cannot survive long on land, Clara, Maren, and their best friend O’Neill undertake a journey to deliver Maren to the sea.  But no road is ever straight, and they fall prey to an evil family of traveling performers. Clara and O’Neill must find a way to save themselves and the ever-weakening mermaid Maren before it’s too late.

“The Mermaid’s Sister” was published in March by Skyscape. Praised as “a must read” by Publishers Weekly, and called “engaging and magical” by Kirkus, the novel has received over 900 5-star reviews. Although the book is marketed for teens, readers of all ages have enjoyed Noble’s delightful blend of fairy tale elements and historical fiction.

Noble wrote the first draft of “The Mermaid’s Sister” as her National Novel Writing Month project in November 2012, weeks after the death of her own beloved sister. Writing a fictional “sister story” provided her with comfort and a path through grief to acceptance and hope—themes that lie just beneath the surface of the lyrical fantasy novel.

A native of Lycoming County, Noble has been writing fiction for most of her life. As an adult, she spent a year as a staff writer for a local newspaper, but she much prefers inventing stories of her own.

More about the book and author can be found at For more information about the book signing event, call Barnes and Noble at (570) 577-1128.
It's a Star Whale. If you don't know him, you're way behind in your Doctor Who episodes!


Tuesday, September 1, 2015

A Novel Break Up


Dear Leprechaun Novel,

We've been through a lot together over the last three years. We've spent two nutso, Nanowrimo Novembers holed up in my office, shared many delicious chocolate bars and countless cups of tea, explored (imaginary) Ireland hand in hand, defeated the evil Tooth Fairy and violent Garden Gnomes, and fallen in love.
Well, dear never-ending-work-in-progress, I'm not in love with you anymore.
The feeling has been creeping up on me for months now, the feeling something was wrong in our relationship (in spite of all my desperate work-- four drafts, maybe five!).
The knowledge that spending time with you is no longer a joy fell down on me like a wet woolen blanket. Ugh.
My friends say it's time to put you aside. To start over with another story. Something that will make me giddy about writing again. I know they're right, but I hate breaking up with you. It makes me sad. It feels like defeat, and little like grief. The thought that you could be a "trunk novel" (a work abandoned and tucked away in a trunk forever) is truly ouchy.
Maybe someday we'll get back together. I'll change, and then you'll be able to change. We could still be great, I think. We could still make the hallowed shelves of the school book fair (a precious dream indeed!).
In the corner of my heart, there will always be a place for you, my reluctant Leprechaun. But for now, scurry off and look for your gold without me. I have other tales to tell, other roads to travel.
I'm so sorry.
Your author,
P.S. I'll remember you and your pots of gold whenever I see a rainbow. How could I not?