Poor Florida Cracker Book Tour & Giveaway

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Poor Florida Cracker by Chelsea Falin Genre: YA Coming of Age

Sissy Collet and her siblings have grown up with neglectful parents, impoverished, and bullied by their small town. When they finally get their chance to break free, they take it – despite having the odds stacked against their favor. With nothing except a half-cooked scheme and an old beater, they set off without a set destination in the hopes they will finally be free of the baggage holding them back. Will Sissy get her happily ever after? Or will she never be anything more than a Poor Florida Cracker? Goodreads * Amazon

Chelsea Falin is the 25 year old independent author of well over ten titles. She began writing with intents to publish in 2006, at age 16, and finally published in 2009, at age 19. Chelsea writes in a variety of genres, including but not limited to: romance, young adult, comedy, cooking, poetry, and dramatic fiction. Professionally, Chelsea is also a freelance blog/article writer, web designer, and book blogger. In her personal life, Chelsea is the mother of a six year old daughter. In her free time, she enjoys reading, writing, fishing, hiking, biking, traveling, and spending time with her friends or family. Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Pinterest * Amazon * Goodreads

When our parents passed out drunk, Jesse and I crept in to steal their cards. I was glad they were
actually home. The room was dark. The only light shined through the dirty, curtain-less window. My
parents were loudly snoring mounds stretched sideways across the lumpy full-sized bed. Piles of clothing
made dark, shadowy mountains in the corners.
We checked the nightstand. There was nothing besides some change and a half-empty pack of Marlboro
Reds. The pile of clothes on the ground also proved fruitless. My mother’s purse lay sprawled in a
corner. Inside was a five-dollar bill, her bank card, and the food stamps card. I took it all.
My father still wore his pants. Lying on his stomach, the mound his wallet made in his back pocket was
visible. Jesse pulled it out. My father jerked in his sleep as the wallet came loose. My heart jumped into
my throat. Jesse and I became statues. We held our collective breaths for thirty seconds that felt like an
eternity.
Jesse hastened to grab my father’s bank card and some crumpled ones from the wallet. He returned it
to our father’s back pocket and we tip-toed from the filthy bedroom.