Tillie's Tale by Mindy Mymudes - Virtual Book Tour and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Mindy will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Welcome, Mindy! Why do you write juvenile fiction? What draws you to it?

Mindy: I don’t think I write for juveniles. It was funny to realize most of the reviews on the first book of the Magical Drool series, ‘George Knows’ were from adults. The first book of the Harry Potter series was midgrade, yet it attracted a huge adult crowd. I’m drawn to books that make me laugh, and give me a chance to stretch my imagination. In George, the egotistical basset hound familiar’s world, he’s an adult. His Girlpup, Karly might be 12, but it’s from his point of view, not hers. So, I’m not sure I write juvenile fiction. I write adult dog fiction.

George: Since she is just my secret-ary, and not a very good one, she really shouldn’t answer any of these questions. I tell her my story—she puts it on the hard drive. My story isn’t juvenile; it’s just my life. My pack is made up of old Peeps, and young Pups. I’m a teacher, and it doesn’t matter what the age, all Peeps need education.

Pretend your protagonist is at school and opens his/her locker – what will we see inside?

George and Mindy: TUNA FUDGE!

What books were your favorite as a youth and why?

Mindy: I loved science fiction and fantasy. I also loved animal stories. Old Yeller, Misty of Chincoteague, Call of the Wild, The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, Starship Troopers. I couldn’t get enough books.

George: Dogs don’t need books. We have instincts. Everything we need to know we’re born with.

What’s your favorite sweet treat?

George: Treats? Did you say treats! I’m a good boy; I deserve treats. Crunchy sweet potato treats are yummy. (Cocks head, bats eyelashes, gives best “I’m a good boy look.”)

Mindy: I like brownies with fudgy icing. Chocolate is bad for dogs, and George knows it. He doesn’t beg for them. No, he begs for everything else.

George: You say that like it’s a bad thing.

Sum up your book for Twitter: 140 characters or less.

Mindy: George, the magical basset hound, is on the trail of the mysterious ghosty haunting his Packmate, Tillie.

George: (Pats Mindy on the head with one huge paw) Good girl! Sometimes, you are a good secret-ary.

Favorite hot beverage. Why?

Mindy: I love tea. Chai masala is my favorite. I think that’s my muse: a large mug of hot chai.

George: Why does a secret-ary need a muse? I like chicken broth. With chicken and noodles in it.

Mindy: That’s chicken soup.

George: It’s hot, it’s wet, I slurp it like it’s water, therefore it’s a beverage.

 What's your ideal summer vacation?

Mindy: Play in my garden, read, go to the beach and sleep in the sun. Train my dogs.

George: Secret-aries aren’t allowed to have vacations. I do agree with the sleeping in the sun part.

 Favorite pizza toppings.

Mindy: Mushrooms, onions, sausage, peperoni, black olives. Or BBQ’d Chicken with onions. Or veggie pizza. Or ham and pineapple. I love pizza.

George: (Sticks snout in the air) The bones are the best. For some reason, Karly and Joey just eat the guts, and leave the bones for me and Tillie.

Who is the mysterious ghosty haunting puppygirl Tillie? And why? George, the magical basset hound familiar is on the trail.


It’s not often a basset hound puppy is haunted by an unhappy ghost, but George’s packmate, Tillie, manages to attract one. George and Tillie need to find out how to help the ghost before she turns into a poultry-ghost.

Enjoy an excerpt:

“Wrrrrttttle.”

Tillie’s tail is spinning in circles. She’s staring at a filmy thing sitting on the steps of an old, rough-brick building. I know it’s really a large Peeps’ den, but since it’s bad to be in the dog house, I assume it’s bad to be in a house. Why don’t they just call it a den if houses are so bad? From the smelltaste of cooking, Peeps, dust, skin, and the other stuff Peeps like, there are many small dens inside. Tillie “wrrrrrtttles” again and adds a soft “wuff.” Her front goes down into a play bow. The thing she’s trying to get to play is shimmery and clear, with thick and thin spots swimming on the surface.

“Snoof. Snuffle” I lick my lips. There’s a disturbing smelltaste of dustmoldlightningozone.

Oh mousefleas.

It’s a ghosty.

About the Author:I've worked in a hazardous waste lab, where under the sign for the Right To Know law, was added: if you can figure it out. I've been a metals tech, a bakery clerk, a professional gardener, taught human anatomy and ran two university greenhouses. Along the way I picked up my Master's Degree in Biology, specializing in the population genetics of an endangered plant. I am also a top breeder, handler, trainer of English springer spaniels, with three in the equivalent of the National Club's (ESSFTA) hall of fame. Every time I think I know dogs, another dog comes along and proves my beliefs are totally wrong.

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