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  • Magic Travels: A Gift for the Book Witches of Belfast

    Magic Travels: A Gift for the Book Witches of Belfast

    David and Samantha, the book-loving duo from Belfast, Ireland, were the first to review my debut novel, Leo and the Magic Guitar of the Ozarks, on NetGalley and Goodreads. As a thank-you, I sent them a paperback copy of Leo (they originally read the eBook) and included my latest release, Tangerines.

    After their journey across the ocean from the USA to Ireland, the books arrived safely, and here’s their response on Instagram!

  • When a BookToker Almost Said My Name Right

    My name isn’t the easiest to pronounce, and I’ve heard some wild attempts over the years. But shoutout to Suki F from England, a BookToker who got it almost perfect in her video (check it out below)!

    Suki also made this adorable bookmark with tangerines on it, and now I really wish I had one.

    If you’re on BookTok, give her a follow. She’s got great energy and a real love for books. https://www.tiktok.com/@sukijreads/video/7463882656850251040

    And if you’re wondering how to properly pronounce my name, check out this page!

    @sukijreads

    Hand-painted bookmark of the week! Inspired by Tangerines by Tsvi Jolles. Tangerine reference photo by David N Yonatus from the Free Reference Photos for Artists FB group. #tangerines #watercolour #handpaintedbookmark #bookmark #watercolour

    ♬ original sound – suki reads 📚
  • 🎧 Settle In and Listen to the First Three Chapters of Tangerines

    🎧 Settle In and Listen to the First Three Chapters of Tangerines

    Sometimes a story feels even more magical when you can hear it. The first three chapters of Tangerines are now available to listen to, and I couldn’t be more excited to share them with you.

    Close your eyes and let Gilly’s voice, brought to life beautifully by the talented Casey Montgomery, draw you into her world—where forests hold secrets, tangerine trees carry carved hearts, and questions about family and friendship linger in the air.

    It’s a cozy little way to spend some time, whether you’re curled up on the couch with a warm drink or taking a quiet walk outdoors.

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    A huge thanks to Casey for capturing Gilly’s voice so perfectly. I’d love to know how the story resonates with you—feel free to share your thoughts after listening.

    Warmly,
    Tsvi Jolles

  • When a Story Finds You: The Quiet Magic of Gilly

    When a Story Finds You: The Quiet Magic of Gilly

    Here’s the thing: Tangerines is a mystery to me. It’s the only significant piece of writing I’ve created where I can’t pinpoint when I started it. Usually, my stories give me hints—details that tie them to a specific time in my life, a certain place or memory. But Tangerines? It’s different. I’m not sure if I wrote it 15 years ago, or 17, or maybe even 22. There’s no clear trail to follow. It feels like this story exists outside of time, and somehow that makes it feel so pure. Of course, I’m woven in there—a lot of me is—but in a way that’s more universal, more spiritual.

    About two years ago, I stumbled upon Tangerines while digging through old files on my computer, hunting for forgotten writing. And there it was. The moment I started reading, I was drawn in by the voice of Gilly. Over the years, I’ve created hundreds of characters—through short stories, novels, everything. But Gilly is different. Right away, I felt a deep sense of pride. Pride in her, and pride in myself as a writer. It was like meeting an old friend and realizing their magic is still there, untouched by time.

    Gilly has a voice is that is raw and authentic, full of curiosity and imagination. She’s introspective and quirky, a little playful, but deeply thoughtful. As I read, it felt as if she were right beside me—alive, waiting all these years to be rediscovered. That sense of creating someone so real and vivid is one of the most rewarding parts of being a writer.

    Yet Tangerines isn’t just Gilly’s story—it’s about navigating life’s mysteries, holding onto wonder, and finding meaning in small, everyday moments. It’s a quiet kind of magic, but a powerful one. At the heart of it all is Gilly, but she’s not alone. There’s Oggy, her loyal best friend, Orti, the tangerine tree covered in tiny carved hearts, and the yanaka—a furry, quirky creature existing only in Gilly’s forest. They’ve all been waiting in these pages, patiently, to be rediscovered. And for that, I’m both grateful and humbled.

    In many ways, these characters also helped me navigate the darkest parts of winter—the short days and cloudy skies. This year, I published two books during the season. The timing wasn’t random; I needed the creative spark to counteract the gloom. (A spontaneous trip to New Orleans didn’t hurt either.) And you know what? It worked.

    Because Gilly’s spirit is so steady and hopeful, I found I didn’t feel much anxiety when launching Tangerines. Despite being only ten years old on the page, she somehow anchored me. Then the first reviews came in, right around the time snow started falling here in Cumming, Georgia. Temperatures dipped into the teens, but there’s nothing quite as warming as a kind review—especially for a story you may have started two decades ago.

    And that leads me to the perfect way to wrap up: I received a new review just today, moments before sitting down to write this post. It reminded me why I do this—why I write, and why I keep rediscovering stories I thought I left behind. Sometimes, we think our creations are lost in time, but the truth is, they’re often just waiting for the right moment to return and light up our lives.

    Tangerines on Amazon

    Tangerines on Goodreads

    More reviews just in

    Review by

    Brynn B. – New Zealand

    Last updated on Jan 27 2025

    Thanks to Netgalley for providing me with a free copy of this book. All opinions expressed are my own

    One of the plagues modern entertainment faces is unoriginality. It’s becoming more and more common for stories to be predictable, generic, and cliche. Tangerines is anything but.

    Tangerines is told through the perspective of a 10-year-old girl Gilly, following the adventures of her and her best friend, Oggy. I expected this book to be a witty, charming read targeted towards kids. After reading it, I am completely blown away by how much this book makes me think. Tangerines is clever and fun, but it’s also much more meaningful of a book than I anticipated.

    The prose is one of the stars of this book. Tsvi Jolles has truly captured the thinking and mannerisms of a 10-year-old. Nearly all of the prose is witty; however, I do think at times it veered into the territory of being different to be different. There were only a few instances of this, though, and overall, it was very well-written.

    This book (…) offers a unique experience to readers. It’s definitely worth the quick read, and I will be checking out Jolles’ other works.

    Review by

    Suki F – Great Britain

    Last updated on Jan 22 2025

    We follow Gilly, a ten year old who lives in the forest with her mother, and has a tangerine tree growing in her back garden. The whole book is told from her point of view, and steeped with the innocence and magic of childhood. Her father has left and she spends a lot of the book planning on going through the forest to find him. I found it very interesting to see what she and her childhood friend think is happening, compared to what is actually going on, and the central mystery kept me reading.

    At times my interest did wane, and it did sometimes feel to me that she was a child much younger than her years, however as a whole this was quite a charming story.

    Review by

    Rhoda S. – United States

    January 26, 2025

    I have a fondness for off-beat, fun, and imaginative children’s literature. I loved this book. It’s a wonderful fantasy as well as a thoughtful look into the mind of a young girl.

  • Peek Inside Tangerines: Read or Listen to the First Three Chapters

    Peek Inside Tangerines: Read or Listen to the First Three Chapters

    1. The Forest Between Us

    My name’s Gilly, but you won’t see it again in this diary. I don’t like writing it down or saying it out loud unless I have to. Here’s why: two days before I was born, Mom told Dad she wanted to name me Gilly. Dad had another name in mind. They argued and didn’t speak for those two days. Mom got so upset, she went into labor early—two months early. And that’s how I ended up with her name choice.

    Mom says I’m making it up (I do make up lots of stories, to be fair) and that her being sad and me being born early aren’t connected. But I don’t buy it. I also think Dad, who lives on the other side of the forest, about a night’s walk from our house, still doesn’t like my name.

    Mom won’t tell me what name Dad wanted to give me, not even a hint. I could promise to water every single flower in our garden for a hundred hearts on Orti (that’s our tangerine tree), and she’d still keep it a secret.

    Because she doesn’t tell me, and because I think about Dad every day—pretty much the whole time it takes the sun to drop from the sky—I came up with another name for myself. It’s not really a secret, but no one else knows it. It’s the kind of sweet name I bet Dad would’ve picked for me.

    One day, I’ll see Dad again. I’ll tell him the new name I came up with, and he’ll smile. The argument he had with Mom will be over, and everything in our forest will feel right again. I hope that day comes soon.

    And sometimes I wonder—what if the new name I came up with is the exact same one Dad had in mind all these years? Wouldn’t that be the most incredible surprise?

    I need to tell you more about me and my life. You already know my name, that I have a few secrets, and that we have a special tangerine tree in our backyard covered in little hearts I carved myself. You also know my family can switch from super happy to super sad in no time. But there’s a lot more to my story than that, and I capture it all in my diary.  

    I write in it every day (it’s just a plain notebook with drawings of animals and plants I’ve doodled on the cover). I don’t write too much, though, because I’m convinced my pencils have tiny souls, and they need breaks, or else they snap—kind of like some people I know. So, between entries, I draw animals or flowers or sometimes just leave a little blank space.

    One day, when the time feels right and Orti drops all its tangerines, I’m going to turn my diary into a real book. I’ll edit and proofread it (two fancy words Mom taught me—she likes to write too) and split the entries into short chapters, about 683 words each. I’ll pick 683 because it’s my lucky number. Once, I tried counting all the tangerines on Orti’s branches, but a squirrel came to sit with me. We ended up playing a staring game, trying not to laugh. I won, but I completely lost track of my count. After that, we both decided to call it 683.

    I think the book will need about fifty chapters, because real books always have chapters, and I want my notebook diaries to feel like a real book more than anything. I don’t know who will read it—maybe kids my age, their parents, or even grandparents. And if they have any witches in their family, I really hope they’ll read it too!

    When I turn my diary into a book, I’ll make sure this very page goes right at the beginning, where it belongs—even though I’m writing it long after most of the notebook is filled. That’s part of what Mom calls the magic of editing. But enough about that for now. I think my pencil needs a break for today.

    Find Tangerines on Amazon

    Read Reviews on Goodreads

    2. The Wednesday Ritual

    Once, when we had tangerines, I’d peel them and drop the peels along the path, just in case I got lost. Someone could always follow the trail and find me.  

    Orange is my favorite color.  

    Once, when we had sweaters, I wasn’t cold.  

    Every night before bed, I say my prayers. I’ve written more than ten of them in my notebook. Mom helped a little, but I came up with the words myself and memorized each one.  

    Mom says I shouldn’t say “once when” for things that will come back, like tangerines or sweaters. But I think it fits. Just because something’s supposed to return doesn’t mean it feels like it will. Like rain—it used to fall all the time. Now, there is no rain. Mom says it’ll be back, but for now, it feels like another “once when” to me.

    Mom and her friends trust nature, but I’m not so sure. I trust Orti, of course, and the river—it’s just a short, easy barefoot walk from our house. I trust the ants and most of the birds, too. But I don’t trust thunder or those heavy clouds, especially the ones that creep in at night when you can’t even see them.

    Mom’s friends have funny names: Odelia, Mississippi, and Eternity. I have no idea who named Mississippi. Once, when I got lost, she was the one who found me and brought me back home. I remember Mom telling her she didn’t know what to do with a girl who’s always getting lost.  

    Now, there isn’t a single tangerine anywhere around here.

    Dad taught me how to peel tangerines. Every time I peel one, I think of him—how tall he is and the warmth of his hands. He showed me the right way when we lived in a different place, a strange mix of desert and oasis. He moved here first, and then we followed. That’s when Mom’s new friends—Mississippi, Odelia, and Eternity—started visiting.

    Mississippi has a thin, buzzy voice. When she talks about her trips around the country, she gets so excited, like they’re the most important adventures anyone’s ever had. I don’t know why, but once I start thinking about Mississippi, it’s hard to stop.

    Mississippi has one black tooth and a lot of white ones. She’s short and beautiful. Once, when I got lost in the woods, she found me and brought me home. After Dad left us—one Thursday, just as the sun was setting—she started living with him.

    I was standing on the porch when Dad came to kiss me. He hugged me, and we both cried. I clung to his sleeve, not wanting to let go. A moment later, Mom came out and hugged me too. That evening, Dad left.  

    What I remember most is him being sick for a long time—probably because he had to leave us. Mom kept telling him he was getting worse. So eventually, he went.

    When I’m sick, I have to stay in bed.  

    Now Dad lives with Mississippi on the other side of the forest. Mississippi and Mom are still friends.  

    Orti is our tangerine tree. I’ve given names to all the trees around our house, and I remember every one of them. Since the day Dad left, I’ve gone out to the yard every day and carved a heart into Orti’s trunk. If you ever see a tree covered in tiny hearts all the way up to where its leaves begin to drape, you’ll know that’s my Orti. 

    Orti is as tall as six or seven yanakas stacked on top of each other, but it’s still not the tallest fruit tree in our yard.

    But I didn’t explain what yanakas are. I’ll try to do it later, because yanakas always love getting more attention than just a passing mention.

    Sometimes Mississippi comes over from the other side of the forest and brings photos. She and Mom never talk about Dad. Every time she visits, always on a Wednesday, she squeaks about everything—places she’s been, things she’s seen—but never about him.  

    Odelia and Eternity show up too, either right before or right after Mississippi, but it’s always on the same day.

    When Mom’s friends visit, they play cards. They start as soon as the sun sets—Mississippi says it’s too warm to play before that—and one time, they kept going until the sun came up.

    Mom usually wins, which makes sense to me—she’s my mom, after all. Odelia and Eternity don’t mind losing, but Mississippi? Not a chance. When she loses, she gets so mad she flings all her cards into the air. When that happens, the game has to pause until she calms down.

    Find Tangerines on Amazon

    Read Reviews on Goodreads

    Get the first six chapters of Tangerines—download them now to your favorite eReader! 👉https://dl.bookfunnel.com/5pq08blb9k

    3. The Lost Family

    Our forest has rabbits, snakes, little monkeys, and lots and lots of yanakas. I can’t really explain what kind of animal the yanaka is, but there are many of them in our forest. Since I didn’t know its real name and Mom said she had never seen one, I gave it a name myself.

    I’m not scared of the yanakas, but I don’t get too close to them either.

    I like the color green, but I really like orange more. You can trust me on these two colors because I usually don’t lie, and I almost never lie to people I don’t know.

    The people I know are my dad, my mom, Mississippi, Odelia, Eternity, the gardener (I won’t write his name—he’s half-shy, half absolutely not, and might prefer to stay a mystery), and Oggy. Oggy is easily one of the most interesting people I know.

    Oggy and I are the same age. He lives nearby, in a house that isn’t bigger or smaller than ours, but it has more blue colors and more windows.

    When Mississippi first saw Oggy, she said out loud that she always dreamed of having such a sweet child.

    If you leave my house and turn right, you’ll get to the salt lake. If you go straight, you’ll end up in the middle of the forest. But if you turn left, you’ll probably get lost, so bring tangerines just in case.

    I asked Mom where the rest of our family is (besides Dad). Like, where are my grandparents and uncles and aunts and cousins? Mom said we used to be a huge family, the biggest one, but they all left, and now it’s just me and her. I think she was joking, but her jokes are sometimes a little sad. I think what she really meant is that she wishes she knew where everyone went.

    I love my mom.

    “Brelli” is a word Oggy taught me. It means super excellent, like really, really good. Oggy makes up words that are better than the regular ones, and because we’re best friends, he says I can use his magic words too. So when Mom or Mississippi or Eternity or Odelia says something, I can answer back with one of Oggy’s special words, and it makes whatever I say feel even stronger.

    I don’t think magic is real, but I totally believe in Oggy.

    Oggy doesn’t really think the prayers I write in my notebook work, but when I pray, he still sits next to me and listens anyway.

    One time, Oggy showed me how he could juggle three tangerines. I couldn’t stop watching, and he said it wasn’t magic at all, just practice.

    Tangerines make everything feel extra special.

    Sometimes strangers come to our house. I just hide behind Mom or pretend I’m super busy so I don’t have to talk to them.

    If I lie to people I don’t know, it makes my stomach and throat feel weird, like a knot. But I can lie to Odelia and Eternity and not feel anything, probably because they’re always so busy with their own stuff and never really notice what I say. Even when I told them they were super nice and that I loved having them over, or that their shoes were amazing, or that I rode an old yanaka, they didn’t even notice I was making it all up.

    I think if I ever catch a yanaka, I’ll tell it my secret name, and maybe it will take me somewhere amazing, like where everyone is waiting for me. Maybe even to the house where my dad lives.


    Find Tangerines on Amazon

    Read Reviews on Goodreads

    Enjoyed the first three chapters? Keep reading! 📖

    Dive deeper into Tangerines with six full chapters, ready to download to your favorite eReader. Don’t miss out on Gilly’s journey—grab your exclusive preview now!

    👉 Get the First Six Chapters Here

    https://dl.bookfunnel.com/5pq08blb9k

  • My First Review for “Leo” Just Arrived—And Wow, Was It Worth the Wait

    by Tsvi Jolles

    I’ve been waiting anxiously for this moment, the one every author both craves and dreads: that first “real” review from someone who isn’t related to me or obligated to be kind. Yes, I’m talking about the good ol’ unbiased, professional critique. It took a couple of weeks—though it felt longer—but it finally showed up on NetGalley, the platform librarians, influencers, and book bloggers flock to for advance copies (often before a book is even published).

    And…what an opening review! When I read it, I almost spilled my golden milk on the bright-colored sofa—which would’ve earned me a whole different kind of review from my wife. I didn’t expect such an enthusiastic reception from a reviewer I’ve never met, but my first reviewer just made my day. Actually, my entire winter—and here in Georgia, they say it’s going to be a tough one.

    Allow me to share the review in its entirety so you can feel my joy right alongside me:

    Review by

    Samantha David – Reviewer

    Last updated on Jan 07 2025

    5/5 stars
    Thank you NetGalley and Brave Fawn Books for providing this eARC!

    This book was absolutely FANTÁSTICO! The amount of passion and research that has went into the book was amazing, I felt like I got a full history lesson and music lesson in one.

    The use of singers was an incredible idea, the show of how bullying can affect our passions, how rumours hurt us but can also lead to something beautiful.

    Leo and Shane’s friendship! Tammy felt a-bit fillerish but I appreciated her nonetheless. The use of different languages in this book was great and was amazing to see blended and explained for those who don’t speak it.

    It’s amazing to see a book that shows magic within!

    Overall this book was amazing and I highly recommend it to everyone!

    Is that cool or what? I’m so grateful for the appreciation, the five-star rating, and the fact that the reviewer enjoyed (and noticed!) so many aspects of Leo and the Magic Guitar of the Ozarks: from the music, to the languages, to the friendships and magic at its core. I poured a lot of time and effort—an entire year—into this story, so seeing it recognized in such a thoughtful review is both deeply rewarding and humbling, in some strange way.

    One of the hardest parts of being a writer is all the waiting—waiting for an agent to take a chance on your work, for an editor to finish their notes, for readers to not only discover your story but share their thoughts about it, and for the book to find its own path. It’s a lot of waiting. I found myself checking NetGalley, then my email, then back to NetGalley again—hoping for some signal that someone out there was reading my words and connecting with the story I’d devoted so much time and energy to crafting. I kept wondering: Will they connect with the messages of Leo and the Magic Guitar of the Ozarks.

    It’s both a relief and a thrill to get this first official thumbs-up. The journey is just beginning, but it feels amazing when the first glimpse out the car window is something straight out of a dream—even before you’ve hit the open road.

    To all of you fellow authors or soon-to-be published writers—keep going! This is what it’s all about: the opportunity to share your passion and see if it resonates with readers. And if my journey can encourage someone else to keep pouring their heart into their craft, then that makes the waiting and wondering all worth it.

    Thank you, first reviewer. Thank you, NetGalley. And to all my future readers: get ready for Leo and the Magic Guitar of the Ozarks—I sincerely hope you’ll find its magic just as enchanting!

    Update: Second review is in, and it’s positive too:

    A Shelf Story – Reviewer

    Last updated on Jan 14 2025

    A joyful, heartwarming story of changes and transitions, and the power of music, family, and friendships.

    Leo, a talented musician and guitarist, receives a special electric guitar from his uncle Javier for his 13th birthday. Javier tells him that the guitar, which once belonged to Leo’s dead father, has a special power that reveals itself to those who can feel and connect with its magic. As Leo familiarizes himself with the guitar, he finds that it has the power to draw the spirits of legendary musicians to inspire and guide him as he deals with challenges at school and in relationships – including classroom rivals, online bullying, changing families, absent loved ones and first love. Along the way, he learns how, throughout history, music and art were powerful tools for people to connect, unite and challenge unethical and discriminatory social institutions and practices.

    I appreciate how Leo’s journey is neither easy nor a linear progression. He experiments, fails, makes the occasional wrong choice, and experiences the consequences of those failures and choices before he can experience true growth. I also love how, even at the end, his life is not fairytale perfect. This is a story of finding happiness without expecting or needing perfection.

    Tsvi Jolles’ writing is both lyrical and easy to follow. I really liked how Leo’s dialogues with his Columbian mother are a in a mix of Spanish and English, with plenty of references to Columbian food and culture. It really honours and brings alive the multicultural roots of the story and adds both depth and beauty to the narrative.

    I would recommend this one for both the classroom and for book clubs for grades 6-8. it’s sure to spark multiple discussions on the power of art, literature, and music to power change, both personal and social.

  • Meet the Author: Tsvi Jolles Talks Leo and the Magic Guitar of the Ozarks

    Meet the Author: Tsvi Jolles Talks Leo and the Magic Guitar of the Ozarks

    Q: What inspired you to write “Leo and the Magic Guitar of the Ozarks”?

    A: So glad you asked! The inspiration came straight from my son, Tomer. One day, out of the blue, he tells me he wants to perform at his elementary school graduation—with an electric guitar, no less! At that point, he could barely strum a simple chord. But his determination was infectious, and spoiler alert: a few months later, he totally nailed it. Watching his journey sparked the idea for Leo’s story.


    Q: Why did you choose legendary musicians to appear in “Leo and the Magic Guitar of the Ozarks”?

    A: Because who wouldn’t want advice from B.B. King or a jam session with John Lennon?


    Q: What’s the significance of the Ozarks in “Leo and the Magic Guitar of the Ozarks”?

    A: The Ozarks have this enchanting, almost otherworldly feel that made them the perfect origin for the guitar’s magic. It all started with a song by the Petersons that mentioned the Ozarks, and the magic just grew from there.


    Q: Do you play any instruments yourself?

    A: I dabble a bit. Let’s just say I’m better at writing about musicians than being one!


    Q: Will “Leo and the Magic Guitar of the Ozarks” have a sequel?

    A: Possibly! There’s still so much to dive into in Leo’s world. Plus, Tomer is always sharing new ideas that inspire me—I can’t let those go unused! Lately, he’s been all about basketball, so who knows where that might lead? Don’t be surprised if the sequel is Leo and the Slam Dunk Strings!


    Q: What’s it like publishing a book in English after previously publishing in Hebrew?

    A: It’s been an incredible journey. It feels like a fresh start—a new beginning—but also like reconnecting with a part of myself. Switching languages was challenging, but it’s opened up a whole new world of storytelling.


    Q: What’s your writing process like?

    A: No coffee, thanks. I prefer writing at home, enjoying the view of my backyard filled with trees, squirrels, and the occasional turtle crossing by. I usually write in the mornings, sometimes in the afternoons, but I never push myself. I believe in writing just enough for the day—the less, the better.


    Q: If you could have a magical guitar that summoned any musician, who would it be?

    A: Laura Pausini or Andrea Bocelli—someone whose music brings a completely different cultural perspective.


    Q: How did your move from Israel to Atlanta influence your writing?

    A: It broadened my horizons in so many ways. New cultures, new experiences—it all seeps into my writing. Plus, the Southern hospitality isn’t too bad either!


    Q: Any advice for aspiring writers out there?

    A: Consider self-publishing—because sometimes the best way to open a door is to build it yourself!


    Q: What’s your favorite snack when writing?

    A: Water.


    Q: How can readers get in touch with you?

    A: I’d love to hear from you! Feel free to email me at [email protected] or connect on Facebook and Instagram @TsviJolles.


    Q: What’s next for you?

    A: Publishing Tangerines! This whimsical middle-grade story combines the magic of childhood with a deeper exploration of family bonds and secrets. At its heart is a remarkable young girl navigating a dreamlike forest, uncovering mysteries that are both enchanting and haunting.


    Q: Do you ever incorporate your multilingual skills into your writing?

    A: Definitely! Language shapes how we see the world, and sprinkling in different languages can add depth to characters and settings. Plus, it’s fun!


    Q: Cats or dogs?

    A: Cicadas. If only they could survive through the winter!


    Q: Any funny writing quirks?

    A: I sometimes act out dialogue to see if it feels natural. If anyone ever peeked through my window, they’d see me having animated conversations with myself!


  • Listen to an Excerpt from Leo and the Magic Guitar of the Ozarks

    Listen to an Excerpt from Leo and the Magic Guitar of the Ozarks

    I’m thrilled to share an exclusive excerpt from Leo and the Magic Guitar of the Ozarks, beautifully brought to life by the talented Diana Bustelo.

    Synopsis:
    On his 13th birthday, Leo Hernandez receives an unexpected gift—a guitar from his Uncle Javier in the Ozarks. This guitar isn’t ordinary; it holds a special kind of magic that connects Leo to his family’s past and opens doors to self-discovery, love, and the healing power of music. As Leo embarks on a journey of personal growth, he learns that music can unlock emotions and truths that words often can’t express.

    What did you think of the recording? Did Diana’s narration resonate with you the way it did with me? I’d love to hear your thoughts—please share them below!

  • Read the First Chapter of Leo and The Magic Guitar of the Ozarks

    Read the First Chapter of Leo and The Magic Guitar of the Ozarks

    Chapter 1: A Slice of Something More

    Leo sat alone beneath the sagging “Happy 13th Birthday, Leo!” banner. His legs swung off the edge of the old, worn-out sofa, tapping softly against the frayed cushions as if trying to drum up some excitement. A car rumbled outside, and Leo’s heart leapt, just for a moment, before it sank again when the car kept going. He tugged at a loose thread on the cushion, as if unraveling it might somehow untangle the rest of the day. It wasn’t that he needed a big crowd or a pile of gifts—he just wanted something to feel different. He sighed, wishing for something he couldn’t quite name, a slice of something more that might make today feel like it mattered.

    The clock above the TV ticked past 3:30 PM. Emily, Marcus, even Sarah had all said they’d come. Maybe they were just running late, Leo thought, trying to ignore the doubt creeping in. He could still picture their smiles when he handed out the invitations—they wouldn’t forget. Not really. He kept his eyes fixed on the front door, listening for any sound that might signal their arrival: footsteps on the porch, the cheerful chatter of friends finally coming through.

    The scent of pandebonos floated from the kitchen, sweet and comforting, but it couldn’t unknot the twisty feeling inside him. The ceiling fan hummed quietly, making the blue and green balloons sway in gentle agreement, as if they, too, were waiting, patient and unhurried, for something worth the wait.

    “Think anyone else is coming?” Shane’s voice broke through Leo’s thoughts. He was sprawled out on the rug, his nose buried in a comic book, but Leo knew Shane wasn’t as absorbed as he looked. Shane always noticed things—like the way Leo’s eyes kept drifting to the door.

    “Maybe they’re stuck in traffic or something.” He said. He tried to believe it, but his stomach felt heavy, like it knew better.

    Shane looked up, squinting at Leo’s face. “Well, if they don’t show, more pandebonos for us,” he said, grinning.

    Leo gave a small, crooked smile. “Yeah, I guess.”

    Shane leaned forward, holding the comic up so Leo could see. His excitement was unmistakable, his eyes bright as he pointed to the illustration. “Hey, look! My dad drew this one. See how the cape looks like it’s really blowing in the wind? He’s got this style that makes everything feel alive.”

    Leo glanced at the page, grateful for the distraction. The cape did seem alive, almost like you could feel the rush of air just looking at it. “That’s amazing,” he said, and he meant it.

    Shane kept talking, explaining how his dad did the inking, but Leo’s gaze drifted back to the door. His stomach twisted as he counted again—three out of seven classmates had come, and two had already left. Maybe a weekday party was a bad idea. Maybe people had better things to do, or maybe they just didn’t want to be here. He tried to tell himself it didn’t matter, but the disappointment settled deep inside him, sharp and heavy, refusing to let go.

    From the kitchen came the clang of pots and pans, followed by his mother’s voice calling, “It’ll be ready soon, mi amor!”

    “Okay, Mamá,” Leo answered. He glanced toward the kitchen door, his heart giving a little squeeze at the sound of her voice. She was trying so hard to make today feel special, even though things hadn’t been easy since she lost her job at the diner.

    Restless, Leo stood and walked over to the window, pushing back the curtain to peek outside. The street was quiet, bathed in late-afternoon sunlight. No cars pulling up. No friends rushing to the door. Only Frantic, the old neighborhood cat, lounged on their front steps. The cat blinked lazily up at him, as if to say that waiting was a fine way to spend the day, that sometimes the world moved slowly on purpose—like a gentle breeze, nudging everything into a kind of patient stillness.

    “Maybe they forgot,” Leo mumbled.

    “Huh?” Shane looked up. “You say something?”

    Leo let the curtain drop back into place. “Nah,” he said quickly, turning back to the sofa and flopping onto it. He stared at the ceiling, trying to push away the thoughts that wouldn’t leave him alone.

    Shane gave him a sympathetic look. “Hey, remember last year? It was just you, me, and that huge water balloon fight. We still had a blast.”

    Leo smiled a little at the memory. “Yeah, we turned the yard into a swamp.”

    “And your mom got so mad at us for tracking mud into the house,” Shane said, laughing.

    Leo’s smile grew, the tight feeling in his chest easing a little.

    A loud clatter sounded from the kitchen—the unmistakable clang of a metal bowl hitting the floor, followed by his mom’s tired sigh.

    “Everything okay, Mamá?” Leo called.

    “Sí, todo bien!” she answered, though her voice sounded anything but convincing.

    Shane grinned. “Sounds like an adventure in there.”

    Leo chuckled. “She’s probably wrestling with the mixer again.”

    The kitchen door swung open, and there was his mother, Maria, her cheeks flushed, a dusting of flour across her forehead. She smiled at him, her eyes full of a determined light. “Leo, mi vida! I have a surprise for you.”

    She held out a small cake, simple but lovely, with white frosting and bright sprinkles. “I know we said we’d keep it small this year, but I couldn’t let your birthday go by without a real cake.”

    Leo’s throat tightened at the sight of it. “Mamá, you didn’t have to…”

    She shook her head, her smile soft. “Ay, mijo. It’s not much, but it’s made with all my love.”

    Leo blinked fast, his eyes stinging. “Thank you,” he whispered.

    She reached out and squeezed his shoulder, her touch warm and steady. “Anything for you, mi amor.”

    Leo gazed at the cake, its simple frosting catching the light like freshly fallen snow. It wasn’t grand or elaborate, but it was made with a kind of love that made his chest ache—a love that was warm and steady. He thought about wishes and what he might ask. Maybe he didn’t need a room full of guests or a mountain of presents. Maybe what he had right here—a mother who cared enough to bake him a cake from scratch and a friend who stayed by his side—was enough. More than enough.

    A low rumble of thunder rolled in from the distance, and Leo looked out the window. Dark clouds were gathering along the horizon.

    “Looks like a storm’s coming,” Shane said, following Leo’s gaze.

    His mother frowned, glancing out too. Leo watched her face, noticing the crease that formed between her eyebrows. She had enough to carry already, and now it seemed even the sky wanted to add to her burdens. “I hope it waits until after dinner. Ay, por favor, que no llueva,” she whispered, her voice soft, almost like a prayer, as if she believed her words could somehow charm the clouds away.

    For a moment, silence settled in the room but then, the oven timer chimed from the kitchen, and her eyes widened. “The pandebonos! I need to get them before they turn negros como la noche!” She hurried back to the kitchen, but before she could disappear, the phone rang, loud and sudden, cutting through the quiet like a jarring note.

    Shane grinned, raising an eyebrow. “Whoa, it’s like we’re in a superhero movie or something—all these crazy sounds happening at once. What’s next, the sound of an explosion or maybe aliens landing?”

    Another flash of lightning and a crack of thunder hit close by, and Shane went pale for a second. He looked almost like he believed he could control it, like somehow his words had summoned the storm.

    Maria glanced at the ringing phone, her brow furrowing slightly. “Who could be calling the landline?” she murmured, wiping her hands on her apron as she stepped over to pick it up. 

    “Maybe it’s Aunt Francesca?” Leo suggested. 

    She picked up the receiver. “¿Hola?” Her face shifted—surprise, and then a wide smile that lit up her whole expression. “¡Javier! ¡Dios mío, es tan bueno escucharte!” She said, ‘It is so good to hear from you,’ her voice filled with joy.

    Leo’s heart jumped at the name. Uncle Javier. He hadn’t seen him in years, not since Uncle Javier taught him to carve that little bear that still sat on his bookshelf.

    Shane nudged him, eyes wide. “Is that him? The uncle you told me about? The one who’s been everywhere?”

    Leo nodded, leaning in, trying to catch bits of the conversation. His mom’s voice flowed between Spanish and English, her words wrapping around him like a gentle breeze on a summer afternoon, calming and familiar. He caught pieces—cumpleaños, regalo, música. Birthday. Gift. Music. His pulse quickened.

    Then she laughed—a bright, joyful sound. She turned to Leo, her eyes brimming with something wonderful. “He wants to talk to you, mi amor.”

  • My Kid Wanted to Rock—So I Wrote a Book About It!

    My Kid Wanted to Rock—So I Wrote a Book About It!

    Hey There! Welcome to My New Website!

    First off, I just want to say a big warm welcome to everyone stopping by my brand-new corner of the internet. This is my very first post here, and I’m super excited to kick things off by sharing some big news with you all.

    I Wrote a Book! (Again!)

    So, a bit of a backstory: the last time I published a book was many years ago when I was living in Israel. That book was in Hebrew, and a lot has changed since then. Fast forward to now, and it feels like a new beginning—a kind of rebirth—but also like reuniting with a part of myself that I’ve missed.

    Introducing “Leo and the Magic Guitar of the Ozarks”

    I’m thrilled (and a little nervous) to announce that my first middle-grade novel in English, “Leo and the Magic Guitar of the Ozarks,” is now available on Amazon KDP in both paperback and ebook formats!

    The Inspiration Behind the Story

    Let me tell you how this all came about. One day, my son Tomer waltzes into the room and casually mentions that he wants to perform at his elementary school graduation—with an electric guitar. Now, at that point, he could barely play a simple chord. But he was determined, and who was I to stand in the way of that kind of passion?

    Spoiler alert: A few months later, after lots of practice (and maybe a few noise complaints from the neighbors), he absolutely nailed it on stage. Watching Tomer’s journey from novice to performer was incredibly inspiring, and it sparked something in me.

    What’s the Book About?

    “Thirteen-year-old Leo gets a magical guitar that connects him with legendary musicians who help him navigate bullying, self-discovery, and the transformative power of music.”

    Leo Hernandez is a kid trying to find his place—sound familiar? After his mysterious Uncle Javier sends him a magical Fender Stratocaster, Leo’s world flips upside down in the best way possible. Not only does he start connecting with music legends like B.B. King and John Lennon, but he also begins to find his own voice.

    He deals with bullies, develops a crush, and faces the classic middle-school challenges—but with a magical twist. It’s a story about growth, courage, and the incredible journey that music can take you on.

    Why I Think You’ll Enjoy It

    • Relatable Journey: If you’ve ever chased a dream or cheered someone on as they pursued theirs, I think this story will resonate with you.
    • Musical Magic: Legendary musicians making cameo appearances? Yes, please!
    • Heartfelt Inspiration: Tomer’s real-life adventure was the heartbeat behind this book, and I poured a lot of that emotion into Leo’s story.

    Ready to Dive In?

    I would be absolutely thrilled if you’d check out “Leo and the Magic Guitar of the Ozarks.” Whether you’re young, young at heart, or just love a good story, I hope Leo’s journey brings you as much joy as it brought me writing it.

    Let’s Keep in Touch

    I’d love to hear your thoughts on the book, or even just say hi! Feel free to drop a comment, send me a message, or connect with me on social media.

    Thanks for stopping by my new site and being part of this exciting new chapter (couldn’t resist the pun). Here’s to new beginnings and rediscovering old passions!

    Rock on,

    Tsvi

    “Hope is the last thing you lose, mijo. Even when the world feels heavy, you keep playing your song.”
    – Maria offering wisdom to Leo.