Posted in Guest Author, Reading

Please Welcome Ritu Bhathal and her Debut Novel “Marriage Unarranged!”

Hello everyone, I hope all is well with you. Today, I’ve got a special treat for you. I’ve got Ritu Bhathal as a guest and she’s telling us a little bit about her writing journey and how the Corona virus affected her. So, without further ado. Take it away, Ritu!

 

Ritu Bhathal

It was an amazing feeling, finally typing THE END after the last words on my manuscript that I had literally poured eighteen years of my life into.

Obviously, that wasn’t the end, by any means.

There was the fun of editing, with rewrites and tweaks, feedback from beta readers, then cover design, and all the marketing.

And then, just like that, the Publication Day was upon me.

I finally let my book baby free, and sat tight, waiting for the sales, then reviews.

Will they love it?

Will they hate it?

Oh my God, I am the worst writer! Why on earth did I ever think I could write a book?

Then the feedback started to trickle through.

Oh! It’s not as bad as I thought!

Wow, people LIKE it. Like real five-star review like it!

Honestly, I was overwhelmed by the words of support and praise that came in for my debut novel in February of this year. Marriage Unarranged was a story that had wanted to be written for so long, and finally, I managed it!

One of the repeated comments was basically, ‘Can’t wait to see what happens next!’

People who read my first novel, actually wanted to read more.

So that meant I needed to get another one out.

As I mentioned a little earlier, it took me a long time to write my first book, because life had a habit of getting in the way. From marriage to moving counties, then the trying for a family saga (it was one, we had issues, so that was stress in itself) and dealing with eventual motherhood. And of course there was the day job to consider too. None of these things left much time to write.

But I did it. Once I focused, I carved time out daily, to add to my word count.

And now, I needed to do that again!

I had ideas already for a second, and third book, relating to the first, and had tentatively started writing the second, but that time thing…

Then Coronavirusgate hit and we were suddenly in Lock down.

So now, I have a lot of time, and that’s what I was looking for, wasn’t I?

I started the Lock down pumped.

Taking part in a couple of online writing sprints added a couple of thousand words to my work in progress (WIP).

It took me a while, but I created a temporary work station, seeing as the dining table I usually used for prolonged writing was now commandeered as a workspace for my working-from-home Hubby Dearest, and the only other desks were in kids bedrooms and they were in use for distance learning.

And I managed to finally set up my WIP story map board. I used it for my first book, and it helped me plan events and timelines within the book, so I did the same with this one.

Then I went through and updated my Character bible, because many of the characters overlap, and some develop more in book two, and there were new focus characters to add.

I even had tentative titles for the next two books.

Then I hit a brick wall.

Not only was I dealing with the Lock down, and ensuring two children were accessing their school-work regularly, constantly disinfecting surfaces, keeping spirits up for Hubby Dearest who was suffering cabin fever whilst working from home, I also had my work stress.

You see, I’m a teacher, and yes, schools are closed, but that doesn’t mean no work for teachers. Here in the UK schools were kept open as hubs for those listed as keyworkers to be able to leave their children for childcare, while they go about their essential jobs. I had a rota, where I would go in and spend the day with these children, and the rest of the time, devising and adding work for my class to access online. Then marking, and doing online training, attending webinars to keep us in the loop with the constant changes.

It messed with my head a lot. And my creativity with it.

And now, I am faced with the prospect of going back on the 1st of June, to work with a small group of my class, if the government and our dear BoJo deems it safe for schools to begin partial opening.

So, how much writing have I done?

Well, I’ve tried to stay creative, by writing A Story A Day in May, and some of the prompts have even got me some new scenes which I can use in my WIP.

And my WIP has increased by around eight thousand words. But my mind has not been in the right place to really get into it

But I will.

I promise.

For my characters, as they have stories to tell.

For my readers because they want to know more.

For me, because I know there are other books in me that want to come out.

 

ritu chick pea available now

‘Chickpea Curry’ Lit — Chick Lit with an Indian twist!

It all started ended with that box…

Aashi’s life was all set.

Or so she thought.

Like in the Bollywood films, Ravi would woo her, charm her family and they’d get married and live happily ever after.

But then Aashi found the empty condom box…

Putting her ex-fiancé and her innocence behind her, Aashi embarks upon an enlightening journey, to another country, where vibrant memories are created, and unforgettable friendships forged.

 

Ritu Bhathal

A U T H O R B I O

Ritu Bhathal was born in Birmingham in the mid-1970s to migrant parents, hailing from Kenya but with Indian origin. Ritu’s colourful background has been a constant source of inspiration to her.

From childhood, she always enjoyed reading. This love of books is credited to her mother. The joy of reading spurred her on to become creative in her writing, from fiction to poetry. Winning little writing competitions at

school and locally encouraged her to continue writing.

As a wife, mother, daughter, sister, and teacher, she has drawn on inspiration from many avenues to create the poems that she writes. A qualified teacher, having studied at Kingston University, she now deals with classes of children as a sideline to her writing!

Ritu also writes a blog, http://www.butismileanyway.com, a mixture of life and creativity, thoughts and opinions, which was

awarded first place in the Best Overall Blog Category at the 2017 Annual

Bloggers Bash Awards, and Best Book Blog in 2019.

Ritu is happily married and living in Kent, with her Hubby Dearest, and two children, not forgetting the fur baby Sonu Singh.

F i n d M e:

Social Media Profiles

Blog Website: http://www.butismileanyway.com

Author Website: http://www.ritubhathal.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/RituBhathal
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ritubhathalwrites/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/butismileanyway/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RituBhathal/
Pinterest: https://uk.pinterest.com/bhathalpadhaal/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/56854412-ritu-bhathal
Mix: https://mix.com/butismileanyway
Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ritusmiles

LinkedIn: http://www.linkedin.com/in/ritu-bhathal
Bloglovin: https://www.bloglovin.com/@ritubhathalpadhaal

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/author/ritubhathal

 

And by clicking the following link, you get to my author profile on Amazon

Author.to/RituBhathal

myBook.to/PoeticRITUals

http://getbook.at/MarriageUnarranged

 

Thanks for being a guest, Ritu! Your story sounds like a must read!

Posted in promotion

Please welcome Tamie Dearen and her New Release: Alora-The Portal

Cover Reveal for Alora: The Portal

The compelling story of the young soulmates, Alora and Kaevin, continues…

The adventure begins with Alora: The Wander-Jewel.

Fifteen-year-old Alora has visions.

Only while in the shower. And only of one stranger: a handsome boy with long brown hair, intense green eyes, and the oddest clothes. A boy who vanishes whenever she opens her eyes.

And then one day, he doesn’t…

Alora’s safe world is soon turned upside-down as she’s thrust into another realm where her soulmate waits, magic abounds, and unfathomable evil seeks to claim her.

The epic fantasy continues in Alora: The Portal.

Cover design by StunningBookCovers.com

If one of them dies, they both die.

Bound together as soulmates, something compels Alora and Kaevin to abandon the safety of their refuge for the dangers of Kaevin’s realm.

The soulmates arrive in the midst of a raging battle as Stone Clan warriors defend their capital, an attack made more deadly by the pervasive evil of her father. Alora and Kaevin face mortal danger as they fight against man and magick to preserve Kaevin’s home and heritage.

For Alora’s father will have her allegiance. Or her death.

Praise for Alora

“…I have to admit – I wish the book had not ended! …The romance is sweet rather than steamy making this a clean read for young adults, but the action and adventure is thrilling enough to keep any age reader turning pages…” Today’s Visions

“I found Alora to be a breath of fresh air in the YA fantasy genre! … A YA fantasy with characters you will adore and cheer for, Alora is a book I would recommend to any of my friends!” Books Are Sanity

Alora: The Portal is available on Amazon for the special pre-order price of 99¢ through the August 31 release date! As a bonus, Alora: The Wander-Jewel will be FREE on August 30 through August 31!

Find Tamie Dearen on her websiteAmazonFacebook, and Twitter.

Excerpt from Alora: The Wander-Jewel

Alora fought the urge to beat on the tile wall. He’d disappeared again. Who was this
boy she kept seeing? Why did he only appear when she was in the shower? He seemed so
real, and she could have sworn he looked as confused as she felt. As if he was trying to
figure out who she was, as well. Was he a figment of her imagination? His eyes were so
unusual. They were green. Not an ordinary green, but a deep, intense jade, the color of
her aunt’s emerald ring. He was really cute, although he wore his wavy brown hair a little
long for her taste. Yet she could only see his head—never his clothes or the background.
Today he’d tied his hair back in a ponytail. Surely the fact he’d changed his hair was
significant. Wouldn’t a figment of her imagination have his hair the same every time?

She peeked around the shower curtain at the clock on the bathroom counter. It was
five a.m. on a Saturday, and she had chores to do, feeding the horses and letting the
chickens out. But it was winter, so she had plenty of time to spare before the rising sun
tolled the beginning of her responsibilities. Living on a ranch in the backcountry of
Montana meant cold winters, lots of work, and little time for leisure. It was the only life
she’d ever known, and she usually enjoyed it, despite the heavy work involved.
But right now, she wanted another stab at seeing that boy. The image was always so
fuzzy. If only he wouldn’t disappear when she opened her eyes. She couldn’t summon his
visage at will. He didn’t come every time she closed her eyes in the shower; it seemed to
happen when she was relaxing and letting the water beat down on her head and shoulders.
Maybe, if she were soaking in the tub, she might see his image again.

She pushed the curtain back, put in the stopper, and turned the faucet on full blast. As
an afterthought, she added bubble bath, filling the tub with fragrant suds. Soon the bath
was full, with aromatic bubbles foaming on top. She eased into the soothing water,
closing her eyes at the blissful caress of the heat on her tight muscles. And she waited.
Anticipating. Would he come? She tried to stay alert, but the relaxing warmth seeped into
her skin, lulling her to sleep.

Awakening with a start in the cold water, disappointment formed a knot in her
stomach—he’d never appeared. She released some water down the drain and added hot
water, swirling it around until the temperature was comfortable again. She had five more
minutes before she had to abandon her bath to start her workday. She lay back down,
sinking below the water with her eyes closed, swishing the fresh water over her skin to
remove the bubble bath film, her face floating above the surface to breathe.

He appeared. She held her breath, clamping her eyes shut tight, trying to hold the
image as long as possible. Though the apparition was still slightly blurry, she could see
all of him, head to toe. She took advantage of her increased perception, thoroughly
studying his image. She almost clapped her hands when her mental measurement
estimated his height at over six feet. At five feet ten, she was taller than most boys her
age. But she scolded herself for examining him as if he were a potential boyfriend. He
wasn’t even real. His clothes were made of supple-looking brown leather. The attire was
odd—held together with ties and toggles rather than buttons or zippers. The fit was close
enough that his well-formed muscles were evident. She noted his long hair was tied back,
as it had been earlier. She could only see the front of him as he stood frozen, stock-still,
with his mouth agape, his jewel-green eyes wide and… moving. His eyes were moving, up
and down, as if he were scanning her body as she had done. And it occurred to her if she
could see all of him, he might be able to see all of her.

She gasped, opening her eyes to dispense with the specter. But his image remained,
now sharp and clear. And he seemed to be standing in her bathroom. She cowered under
the water, attempting to hide under the few remaining bubbles. His eyes dropped down to
her navel, and as they widened, he whispered, “Wendelle?”

Lunging for her towel on the floor, she screamed at the top of her lungs. Hastily
covering herself and preparing to leap from the tub, she looked up, only to discover the
vision was gone—if indeed it had been a vision.

Read the first two chapters of Alora: The Wander-Jewel here.

Posted in promotion

Promotion: The Step all Authors Struggle With

Hello everyone! I hope all is well with you. I’m here today to talk about promotion. I know all my author friends are cringing right now. It’s one of the toughest parts of the job especially for newbie authors.

There is no tried and true method for marketing, I’m sad to say. What works for one author may not work for another. There are many tools out there for authors to use, Social Media, Blog Tours, Bargain Book Sites, and Online Radio Interviews.

What I’ve found is Social Media is a great way to communicate with your friends and followers. I’ve sold books this way, but if you talk about your books, too much it can be a turn off. When I think of Facebook and Twitter, I think of sharing of information. I have many author friends that I chat with and we share marketing tips and other helpful information.

8540717756_396867dbab_m

***This photo is courtesy of Flickr and https://mkhmarketing.wordpress.com/

I’ve also participated in Blog Tours. They’re a great way to get out in front of your audience, but they don’t usually net many sales. So why do them at all? Well, first, they offer exposure of your books and they offer reviews. I don’t know about you, but I find reviews are hard to come by and blog tours are an excellent way to get reviews from someone other than your mom. 🙂

Here are a couple of blog tours  I’ve used:

YA Bound: http://yabound.blogspot.com/

Goddess Fish Promotions: http://www.goddessfish.com/

There are also Bargain Book Sites. The purpose of these sites is to sell a large quantity of books to their followers. Therefore, you’ll want a site that has a history of success. Not all of them do, so this is where communication with other authors comes in handy. Check with your author friends to see what kind of success they’ve had. Some new sites will offer their service free. Take them up on it.  They may be trying to build a following, so you might not have a lot of success, but you might. It doesn’t cost you anything so it’s worth a try. The one site I’ve had great success with is http://ereadernewstoday.com/

The last but certainly not least way to get exposure for your work is by Online Radio Shows. This is a way to reach a larger audience fast. Again, I’m looking for exposure and getting my name out there. I’m working with The Author Show and my interview will be available for everyone to hear tomorrow.

I’m excited about this because they have a large following. I was a little nervous at first, because I hadn’t been interviewed in a long time. I worked with Linda and she eased my anxiety, she was so open and friendly. They do the interview and air it for one day free. They have social media sites they post on and they allow you to share the interview on all your social media sites. So you’re getting in front of a larger audience. Did I tell you they edit the interview too? So all those Umms…and Ahhhs… are deleted.  Again, they do this free. Here’s the link if you’re interested in listening to my interview, or if you’d like to contact them and set up an interview for yourself. Check it out! http://www.wnbnetworkwest.com/WnbAuthorsShow.html

We’re talking about the third book in the Starlight Chronicles Series. It’s titled “Starlight” and the cover and blurb are below.

LarkSinger 500x750Seventeen-year-old Lark Singer and her band Starlight have entered a competition that could launch their musical career if they win. However, Lark soon discovers that her nemesis, Duane McIntyre has also entered making her desire to win stronger than ever. How far will Lark go to win and what will it cost her in the end?

Thanks for stopping by and if you have any marketing tips you’d like to share, please do! We’d love to read them!

Posted in promotion

“Starlight” is here!

Hello everyone! I hope all is well with you! It’s release day for “Starlight!” The third book in the Starlight Chronicles! Here’s the amazing cover and blurb!

Starlight 500x750

Everything is on track for Seventeen-year-old Lark Singer and her band Starlight. They have a great shot at winning the competition that can launch their musical career. But when Lark discovers they will be competing against her old nemesis Duane McIntyre things really heat up. How far will Lark go to win, and what will it cost her in the end?
Amazon:  http://www.amazon.com/Starlight-Chronicles-Book-3-ebook/dp/B00STNFWM6
It will be available at Barnes and Noble shortly!
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/starlight-27
Chapter One
“AWESOME JAM session!” announces Bean as he twirls his sticks in the air.
“We are so ready!” I exclaim. The competition is just a week away, but I’ve never been so ready for anything in my life. We have the smoking hot tunes. Four of them, and they’re full of positive energy. And we have the smoking hot name. Starlight. I love the way it rolls off my tongue when I say it.
For a brief second, I think about who we’re up against for the competition and Duh-Wayne’s face floats into my consciousness. I shake my head to wash the image away. Nothing is going to ruin this chance for me, not even Duh-Wayne.
The competition. It’s my one chance to get out of this town, to have the musical career of my dreams. The winner gets a paid-in-full opportunity to audition for American Singer and the winner of that gets a recording contract. I can almost feel the contract in my hand.
Turning my attention back to the task at hand, I unplug my guitar. As I put my Gibson back into its case, Bean moves from his perch behind his drum set and squats next to me. “Hey, I’ve got to give Stevie a ride home, but after that would you like to go for a cruise?”
“Yeah.” I give him a smile. “I would.”
“Bean. Come on, I’ve got to get home,” Stevie says in a tone that’s not quite impatient.
I stand. “Just let me put this away,” I say, patting my guitar case. I hustle inside and run my guitar up to my room.
When I return to the garage, I hit the button and then sneak under the door as it makes its descent. Stevie’s standing just outside the passenger door, waiting for me to climb into the car next to Bean before he gets in. He’s thoughtful that way.
I climb in and give Bean a nudge and a grin. He grins back and his eyes have that special twinkle that’s just for me.
Stevie scrambles in and closes the door. “Let’s go.”
Bean backs out of the driveway and heads down the road. The Brown Turd rumbles and backfires as he steps on the gas. I’m surprised Mr. Szasbo hasn’t made an appearance, but then I remember his cat. Ever since I saved his kitten, I haven’t heard a complaint from him. Maybe he has warmed toward me.
It takes us fifteen minutes to reach Stevie’s house. A brick ranch with a long front porch and attached two-stall garage. The house doesn’t seem to match my friend. I expected him to live in some bungalow by the sea. Instead, he’s in small town suburbia and it dawns on me that I don’t even know what his parents do for a living.
“I’ll catch you guys tomorrow,” Stevie says with a wave, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Yeah. Tomorrow,” I say with a quick smile. I can’t wait for him to leave so I can be alone with Bean.
“Later, Dude,” Bean yells before rolling up his window. I snuggle up to him as he steps on the gas and heads toward downtown. “So where do you want to go?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Let’s go someplace where we can talk.”
He winks at me and says, “I know just the place.”
“Where?”
“You’ll see.” He gives me a mischievous smile that sends my heart racing. I love it when he looks at me like that.
We make small talk while he drives to our destination. I’m shocked when we pull into a cemetery. “What are we doing here?”
“You said you wanted to go someplace to talk.” He snickers. “We definitely won’t get interrupted here.”
“No kidding,” I say as I stare out the window. The grave markers go by and I can’t help but think about the people lying beneath the ground. I wonder what kind of lives they had. As I think about these things, I realize there’s a lot of history in this cemetery.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” Bean asks as he grabs my hand. The familiarity of the rough calluses on
my skin warms my heart. He stops the car and turns the engine off.
“My mom admitted it.”
“Admitted what?” Bean shifts in his seat and slouches against the driver’s door.
I shift and turn toward him. Before I speak, I rub my fingers along the scar above my right eyebrow. It’s my bastard stamp. I got it the day Duh-Wayne called me a bastard and then laughed when I didn’t know what one was. As I recall the horrific fight we had, a shudder runs through me as I tell him. “She admitted that Jared Miller is my father.”
“What?” Bean sits up straight and bumps his head against the window. Rubbing it he says, “When did all this happen?”
“Last night.” I brush a curl away from my face. “We had a heart-to-heart.”
“Wow.” Bean’s eyes mirror his surprise. “I can’t believe she admitted it.”
“I know.”
“So how did she tell you? Did she come right out and say it?”
“No,” I say as I brush a wayward curl out of my eyes. “I asked her and she finally told me the whole story.”
“Which is?”
“Basically, she got pregnant and wouldn’t get an abortion, so he dumped her.”
“What?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “Can you believe it. The guy’s a total douche bag.”
“So what are you going to do?”
I give him a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”
Bean sniffs and wipes his nose on his sleeve. “Well, are you going to talk to him?”
I shake my head. “No. Mom doesn’t want me to contact him.”
“That blows.”
We grow silent. Bean looks out the window and starts drumming on the steering wheel with his fingers. “Do you even know what he looks like?”
“Yeah. I saw a picture of him in one of my mom’s yearbooks.”
Bean continues his drumming. “But you don’t know what he looks like today, right?”
“No I don’t.”
Are you curious?”
“Yeah. I am.” My stomach flutters. “But Mom didn’t want me to contact him.”
“But she didn’t say you couldn’t look at him.”
“True.” I nod and furrow my brow. I have a good idea where Bean is going with this, but I have mixed feelings. “I don’t know if Mom would want me to do that.” I suddenly feel like I’m being disloyal to her somehow, even though just looking at him doesn’t break my promise.
“Let’s just find out where he lives,” Bean says as he nudges me over and positions himself behind the steering wheel. He turns the key and the Brown Turd roars to life. We rumble out of the cemetery and head down the road. “We can just drive by. Your mom will never know.”
“She’s out shopping,” I say in a quiet voice.
“We’ll just drive by.”
“Where are we going?” I ask as the butterflies in my stomach take flight.
“We’ll find a phone book and get his address,” Bean says as he pulls up to the stoplight and turns on his blinker. “Hey did you ever find out if he’s Cassie Miller’s dad?” After he asks me this, he watches a car drive past and then drives out of the cemetery.
“I did ask her. He’s not her dad, he’s her uncle.”
Bean gives me his classic Beaner look and then turns his attention back to the road. “So you and Cassie are cousins?”
“Yeah. Pretty wild, huh?”
“Pretty wild, Chickie.”
“What’s going on?” I sputter as Bean slams on the brakes and I grab the dashboard.
Bean motions with his head. “Mrs. Deakins just ran the red light.” He gives her a friendly wave, but I can see the exasperation in his expression. “I don’t know how she keeps her license.” He pulls up to Pearl’s and parks. “Let’s run in and check out her phone book.”
“All right.” My stomach flutters again as I slide across the front seat and climb out of the car.
Bean grabs my hand and we walk inside. I squint against the dim lighting and listen to the clatter of dishes and the banging of pots as the staff prepares for the evening meal. On Sundays, Pearl’s opens at five and serves a buffet style dinner and that’s it. It’s usually pretty good though, and there have been many Sunday evenings Francine and I have come down for our evening meal. The oily scent of fried chicken wafts past me and my stomach rumbles. I haven’t had fried chicken in a long time, and of course, I’m hungry after our jam session this afternoon.
My stomach gurgles again and Bean hears it this time. “Hungry?” He gives me a grin and pats my stomach. “Why don’t we stay and eat?”
“Awesome idea.” Scanning the area, I search for Marge. She doesn’t have wait staff on her banquet days. I catch a glimpse of her as she bursts from the kitchen carrying a heavy tray of mashed potatoes.
“Hello kids,” she says as she rushes past in a breathless blur. “Take a seat.”
We grab a booth close to the buffet table. It’s near the back by the stage where we played on Friday night. Marge stops by our table after depositing the mashed potatoes at the banquet stand. “I’m a little late getting things together tonight. But all the food will be out in a second. What would you kids like to drink?” Bean and I order sodas and Marge disappears. She’s back seconds later with large drinks and straws. “It’ll be just a few more minutes before the food arrives.”
“It smells awesome,” I say as my stomach rumbles again.
Marge gives me a smile and then vanishes into the kitchen. When she’s gone, Bean leaps from his seat and dashes toward the back. He searches beneath the bar and pulls out a Clarksville phone book. He holds it up in the air and waves it at me with a triumphant grin. Returning, he slides into the seat across from me and opens it up.
Scanning the pages, he comes to the Ms. He quickly finds Jared Miller and turns the book so I can read it.
“Twenty fourteen Green Street.” The words roll off my tongue as naturally as if I were saying my own address. “That’s right around here.” I gaze at Bean as my stomach flutters.
Posted in Writing

Is the Amazon/Hachette Situation a Symptom of Things to Come?

 

Hello everyone, I hope all is well with you. I’m back today and I’m talking about some changes that are happening in the Publishing Industry.

As many of you already know, Hachette and Amazon are having difficulty coming to agreeable terms regarding their contract. From what I understand, Amazon is trying to keep the cost of e-books down and Hachette wants to keep them up.

Amazon has taken steps to take off the pre-order buttons on Hachette’s books until the situation is resolved. This has upset some of the authors. Because of this Amazon has orchestrated a bold move. They contacted some of the authors and the Authors Guild and offered to pay 100% of the royalties to the authors until the contract issues are resolved.

It’s my understanding that Hachette hasn’t responded to this. I’m very interested to see how this is resolved. Especially since Simon and Schuster’s contract is coming up for renewal soon. As each New York publisher’s contract comes up for renewal, we’re going to see Amazon flex their muscle a little bit more.

My take on all of this is the New York Publishers are going to have to change the way they do business. I’m interested to see what will happen to the industry when they finally realize this.

My gut feeling on all of this is; this is the best time to be an author, especially an Indie author. 🙂

Why do I feel this way? If New York has to change their business model, it’s possible that they’re going to have to change their process on many different levels in order to compete with the small presses and self-published authors out there.

In my opinion, the small presses are already way ahead of the big publishers because they know how to operate at a lower cost. The big cost for New York publishers is marketing. Make no mistake, they know how to market their products, but it’s expensive. Smaller presses leave a lot of the marketing up to the authors and even though it’s a pain, it does allow us to develop our fan base. There’s nothing more important than that personal touch from an author.

Self-published authors are also way ahead of the game because they’ve learned what marketing techniques work best for them and they know the true cost of editing and formatting their books.

Therefore, this is probably the best time to be an Indie, especially with Amazon watching our back for us, there’s nothing we can’t do. 🙂 If the New York publishers have to cut back on marketing and leave it up to their authors, well us Indie authors have been doing it for years. 🙂 So, we’re ahead of the game.

Keep in mind,  it does take time to build up your readership. Even though social media has opened up doors for all of us, it will always take time.

Thanks for stopping by and reading my post today! I’d love to read your comments about the Hachette/Amazon situation so please share your thoughts! 🙂

 

Posted in Guest Author

Lynn Spangler’s back with A New Release

Hello everyone! I hope all is well with you! I’ve got Lynn Spangler here and she’s talking about her new release, “Conflicted Jewel.” It certainly sounds like an awesome read and I’ve got it on my TBR Pile! Check it out! The blurb and excerpt are below!

conflictedjewelThis story is the second in the On Main Street series. This story features Sage Whitley and Zander Havilland. I loved writing this story because it featured jewelry. I love jewelry and used to sell it as a matter-of-fact. Diamonds are indeed a girl’s best friend but so are rubies, emeralds, opals…well, you get the picture. I hope you enjoy my story!

Blurb:

Sometimes trusting your heart is harder than diamonds…

Years separated Sage and Zander. Will their reunion rekindle feelings they’ve long since kept to themselves?

Sage Whitley’s life as owner and jewelry designer for Whitley’s Jewelers was mundane and comfortable until the return of Zander Havilland. Secretly, Sage has had feelings for the handsome gemstone buyer for years and now he’s back in Jonerstown to stay. Sage’s life is soon turned upside down and Zander is there to catch her.

Zander Havilland leaves his high paying job in New York City to return to his hometown to stay with his aging mother. An opportunity presents itself shortly after his return, putting him on a collision course with the lovely, petite Sage Whitley. Soon emotions long hidden for the beauty rush in and Zander is more than ready to accept the inevitable.

Adversity draws them closer together as they try to unravel a mystery involving a large diamond, a rash of thefts, and murder. Can they solve the bizarre mystery before it’s too late and explore the possibility of everlasting love?

conflictedjewelExcerpt:

“You’re early,” she said when she noticed Sage.

“Had a hard time sleeping last night. Need the jolt sooner not later,” Sage professed. “Give me an espresso. I need jet fuel instead of gasoline.”

Sherry laughed. “Sure thing. What size? If you’re not used to drinking them, then I’d recommend going no bigger than a medium.”

“Make it so.” It never ceased to amaze Sage how efficient Sherry was at her job. Her steaming drink was before her in no time. “You make preparing my orders look so easy,” she declared, sipping the brew. “Wow, it’s strong.”

“You said jet fuel.” Sherry said and then grinned.

“I guess I did. Thanks. I’ll probably catch you later today. See you,” Sage said before turning to leave. She stopped, rooted in place, when she saw who strolled in the door.

Zander stood in all his gorgeous glory. He was wearing a tailored three-piece suit in a pleasant charcoal color, which showcased his broad shoulders. A white dress shirt and a cobalt blue tie completed his ensemble. His collar brushing, ink-black hair was pulled back into a stubby tail. The corners of his mouth curled upward when his eyes met hers.

His smile made her heart skip a beat. Sage’s knees weakened and she leaned against the counter for support. She knew she’d never see a more perfect male specimen than the man standing before her.

He ambled over toward her and stopped about a foot away.

Every one of Sage’s nerve endings seemed to fire at once. Her pulse fluttered and the pit of her stomach tingled.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Hi,” she managed and then sipped her espresso. She frowned slightly. “This is stronger than I’m used to.”

Zander leaned down and sniffed the brew through the opening. “You drinking the high octane stuff?”

“Huh…” Sage couldn’t seem to form proper words. “Yeah,” she said when her synapses worked again. “I had trouble sleeping last night.”

“You too?” He flashed a brilliant smile again. “How is the espresso?”

Buy Links:

Astraea Press

Amazon

Author Bio:

I live in South Central Pennsylvania with my wonderful, loving husband and my beautiful daughter. I also have a son who is currently serving in the U.S. Navy. I have a cat named Kolzig and a dog named Cede who allow us to live with them.

I love to write and read. I also make jewelry when the mood strikes. I’m a huge sports fan. I love football, NASCAR, and hockey. I’m also a bit of a game show freak. I love old game shows from the 70’s and 80’s like Match Game and $25,000 Pyramid. Television shows like Criminal Minds and Rizzoli and Isles are also favorites of mine.

Thanks for taking the time to check out Lynn’s book!  I hope you enjoyed the excerpt!

Posted in Guest Author

Please welcome Su Williams as she shares her Novel “Dream Weaver” with us!

Hello everyone! I hope all is well with you! I’ve got Su Williams here today and she’s telling us a little about herself and her writing process and then we’ve got an excerpt from her novel “Dream Weaver”. Let’s give her a warm welcome!

Take it away Su!

me n tink 
1)    How long have you been writing, Su?
I’ve written little things most of my life. Poems, short stories, Sunday school lessons…but I never believed I was capable of writing a book until about five years ago. I finished the Twilight Saga and said, ‘I can do that.’ So I did.
 
2)    Where do you get your inspiration to write?
Life. What I write is paranormal, and not like ghosts and poltergeist. My immortals aren’t traceable by electromagnetic devices. But I wanted them to fit into the contemporary world as though they could possibly truly exist. I like to take life experiences, and people, and put a paranormal twist to them. I might hear a word or phrase that triggers something in my brain and I run with it. My family loves to give me ideas, though I don’t use very many. My Dream Weavers are able to lift  memoryprints off of objects much like forensics lifts fingerprints. That idea came from my son Josiah.
 
3)    What sets “Dream Weaver” apart from other books in the genre?
No vampires. No werewolves. No zombies. I consider myself fairly well-read in YA fiction. I wanted my immortals to be different from anything I’d read before. So that’s what I set out to do. Now, I have no issues with reading about vampires, werewolves and zombies. As a matter of fact, I’m on a bit of a zombie kick right now. I’m reading ‘Rot & Ruin’ by Jonathan Maberry and recently finished Angela Scott’s ‘Wanted: Dead or Undead.’ I just wanted to create something that I hadn’t seen done yet.
 
4)    As an author, Su what is your writing process?
I love this question. I’m what I call a ‘puker.’ Sorry, I know, nasty. I tend to come up with a scene and just throw it up on the computer…or receipt slip or post-it note. Then, I tie all the scenes together. That may not seem logical, but it’s a bit of fun for me. I may think the story is going to go one way based on one scene, only to find out, the scene goes somewhere else and the story is taking me in a different direction.
 
5)    How long did it take you to start and finish “Dream Weaver”?
I’m a little embarrassed to admit this…but Dream Weaver took me five years to write. I pitched the 62k word manuscript four years ago at the PNWA conference here in Washington (the state) and got 3 requests for partials. Looking back, I can’t believe I thought the story was anywhere near being ready for anyone’s eyes. The novel launched to 104k words and I pitched it again and got more partial and full requests, but it still wasn’t ready. So over those five years, I gleaned all I could about writing: how to ‘show don’t tell’; using active verbs; cutting the flab. I’m glad I have all this knowledge now to share with other indie authors that might not be able to make it to a writer’s conference . And I’ll have all that knowledge already as continue my story through the next two books.
 
6)    Do you have any advice for other writers?
Edit. Edit. Edit. I’ve seen so many self-published writers that haven’t. It’s obvious they have story telling chops, they just haven’t done the whole job. The biggest thing a writer can do is ask themselves ‘am I telling a story here or am I showing it?’ Anton Chekhov said, Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass. Huge difference.
 
I’ve read several times that the two things self-published authors should pay for are a good editor (and not your high school English teacher) and cover art. And I agree whole-heartedly. You need a second, educated set of eyes on your manuscript to ask you the pressing questions. And you need a cover that stands out among covers and looks professionally done, because, as we know, the cover can sell your book. The story about my cover art for Dream Weaver can be found here.
 
7)    What’s next for Su Williams, the author?
Rock Star has been in the works for a couple of years. It’s the second book in the Dream Weaver trilogy. I hope to release it by the end of 2013.The research for it so far has been a blast! I got to interview band members of the all-girl AC/DC tribute band, Hell’s Belles. Such a great group of ladies.
 
Also, I’ve discovered I enjoy connecting and working with indie authors and encouraging them to be the best they can be, or reviewing a manuscript for them. I’ll be continuing my blog Dream Weaver Novels/Tyro Writer and conducting indie author and best-selling/award-winning author interviews; and connecting authors with info and giving them one more outlet where people can find their books.
 
8)    Who are your favorite authors and why?
I LOVE vivid, original imagery. I love it when writing is beautiful and poetic and heart-wrenching. The authors that I believe do this for me are Lisa McMannMaggie Stiefvater,Annette Curtis Klaus and Richelle Mead.
 
9)    If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live and why?
I can’t imagine living anywhere without my Mom and Dad. And since they aren’t going anywhere but here in good ole Spokane, WA, that’s where I’ll be. That may sound strange to some…I’m no spring chicken…but in the last several years I’ve realized how precious and awesome my parents are and just can’t imagine going somewhere they aren’t.
 
10)           What’s your favorite hobby besides writing?
I absolutely love to take pictures. I have over 3000 shots I’ve taken over the years, most of which suck. But as I’ve learned how to use my camera, my shots have gotten better. I even got one picture published in a book called ‘Red Dog/Blue Dog; When Pooches Get Political’ by Chuck Sambuchino. And I love to take shots of normal objects from abnormal angles. I’ve gotten some pretty cool pics that way.
 
Thank you, Lisa for allowing me to visit on your blog on this crazy ride they call a book blog tour.
 

Now, take a few minutes and check out an excerpt from “Dream Weaver”!

Dream Weaver cover cropped final“Dream Weaver”
By Su Williams

Prologue

Nick
Incorporeal I drift, camouflaged against the shimmering snow, no more than a sparkling flurry in the wind, dancing just on the precipice of light shielding me from her–and them. I am her aegis, her defense from the darkness that presses in on her from without, evil cloaked from her eyes. I feel her inner darkness’ pull on her; hear it call her name.
Vivid images whose birth I cannot fathom–whether from within her heart, or tailored for her torment–still, after all these months accost her sleep and crush her soul. Yet, her screams tear the night and my heart less often than before. Surely, she is strong enough to endure some terror; no lifetime is without it. Such a gentle soul so tethered and weighted by so much loss, so much grief. I have mended what I can of her damaged mind without wholly purging her memories. At least I can dull her pain, callous her tender heart.
I know the unwritten code: ‘There are mortals, and there are immortals, and never the twain shall meet.’ Still, I find myself here, hovering on the fringe of the woods just outside the halo of light that wreathes her home. And they haunt the darkness, hidden within the shadows. I sense them, though not how near. I shudder at the consequences if they discover my presence. They would kill her, or at the very least brutalize her–just because they are able, just for my torment, the fresh nightmare of her torture a delicacy on their lips as they devour my memory.
They are changing, such aberrant evolutions we have found in their kind of late. Creatures so like us, spoken from the same heavenly breath, yet worlds apart. Their sustenance makes them monsters, even evil. They grow stronger pillaging the gifts of our kind and using them as their own and leave us worse than dead. For this cause, I feel powerless, mortal.
She knows nothing of my world, few mortals do, and it is only because of a promise and her safety that I enter hers. I vowed to protect her at any cost, with my life if necessary. And something of her draws me in, her heart to mine. It wakens an ache, a passion that long ago I laid to rest, deep beneath the sodden earth, entombed in company of my mortal life.
My heart aches with indecision. Should I go to her, risk her life perhaps to save it, or leave her be to strengthen from the terror?

CHAPTER 1 Going Under

Night terrors stalk my sleep and haunt me through each day. I am never free. Macabre phantoms, twisted metal, flames and the sound of my parent’s screams, their cries for salvation. And I would give it–if I could, were the realm in which I live and the terrors in which they died equal.
In time, my gasps for air and life abated. I learned to live without the press of suffocation on my lungs. At the least I was treading water with some hope of survival. But monsters strike even in the shallows, even when you’re feet from shore and almost standing on solid ground.
The subtle bumps of a predator, like a shark in the deep, reawakened the terrors. And I lived in fear of the jaws ripping through me and dragging me under, lost again to the darkness of terror. The darkness that has nothing to do with light or sleep.
I am Emari Sweet, sole survivor of a crash I was never in. The crash that claimed the lives of my beloved parents Zecharias and Jane Sweet. The crash that left me orphaned at 17. The crash I foresaw in the eyes of the State Trooper before the words formed on his tongue. Cold and hard, the words turned my
blood to hardened steel and eviscerated me. My soul twisted and shredded.
I lived with the terrors for many weeks after that. My best girl, Ivy, kept my body functioning, the basics for sustenance of life. She kept me Earthbound and alive when I’d rather have been neither. She guided me through an icy summer that tumbled into autumn like the leaves off a tree.
Adrian Rovnikov, my father’s best friend, my shrink since the crash, brought me drugs–antidepressants. But they are only safe in the right hands. In mine, they are death. So, before I caused irreparable harm, the pills went the way of dead fish.
Dreams of an angel with eyes of obsidian wound their way through the darkness until they finally displaced the terrors. His gentle hand calmed my writhing body, drew out the poison of the chimera, and guided me back to life. The dark-eyed angel faded as my darkness dawned into light. Yet, even when the terrors diminished, the torment hovered nearby, stalking my sanity, prepared to strike at any show of weakness.
Winter’s chill cast a mantle of white over Spokane. Trees wore shimmering nacreous cloaks that rivaled the grandeur of their summer dress greens and fall’s autumnal oranges, reds and yellows. The city lay calm and peaceful under winter’s frigid embrace and my heart still ached under the frost of grief. I hid it from all but the most discerning eyes.
The tumble of seasons brought more than cold; the real monster lurked in dark corners and phoned me at work, promised me pain and fear.
* * *
Daylight masquerades as dusk, the clouds heavy-laden with snow. An arctic blast extends its arm, balling its fist to bludgeon the car from the road. Brake lights flash a glaring red. The tires whir and whine on the frozen asphalt seeking elusive purchase. The wind flings the car across three frosted lanes. Panic twists my father’s face as the car fishtails out of control. His frantic hands, hands that can do anything, build anything, grapple uselessly at the wheel. My mother’s face is fear-white, her mouth a perfect ‘o’ that disappears beneath her small, stark hand. A wall of white emerges out of the flurry before the windshield, but not of snow. Cement. Massive and merciless. The shiny new sedan plows into the bridge abutment, lifting Mom’s side of the car into flight. Giant sparkling snowflakes of shattering glass fly into the air as the car rolls over and over. Metal screams and moans in protest. Finally settling on its top, the car slides across the icy black tarmac, a path of broken scattered pieces in its wake.
Upside down, my mother’s pallid face appears at her window. Violent crimson drenches her hair, a severe contrast against her spectral skin. Her dazzling emerald green eyes, my own eyes staring back at me, implore for my help. Pounding hysterically, her knuckles split and bleed, smearing the window in a web of red. The roar of fire drowns her cries, flames that now return the light to the day, and vanquish the masquerade.
Driven by panic, I plunge through the whirling eddies of snow. But I can’t get to them. I have no traction, my steps falter. I am prisoner to the freezing storm, powerless to save them; held at bay by the fireball that lights the grey gauzy day cotton-bright like summer, and sends seismic shockwaves that undulate the ground beneath me. Shrapnel of rocks and glass rain down upon me.
Exhausted and useless, I collapse to my knees on the caustic, sub-zero ice. The acrid smell of smoke and gasoline grows heavy in the air, searing my throat and nostrils. Like a pin-hole camera, the light etches the panic and fear on my mother’s face onto my retinas and deep into my brain. The blaze scorches my eyes, bringing my tears to a boil. Searing heat and the horror of looking into the faces of my mother and father as the flames devour them forces me to look away. My body finally crumbles onto the cold freeway, in exhausted agony. I crush my ears with my hands to block out the maelstrom. Their haunting screams reverberate in my ears, echoes of the torment resounding throughout my body.
The reality of my own screams awoke me. I bolted upright and clutched my head. My body trembled and rocked, soaked in sweat, as I manically searched for a thread of truth. My breath rasped from my raw lungs that thrashed against the smoke-that-wasn’t.
Comforting gazes from my black and white movie monsters centered my thoughts. Bela Legosi, both Lon Chaneys, Boris Karloff and even Vlad Dracul himself, with his large round piercing eyes, crowded the walls of my black and white bedroom. Vlad was the only true monster there, but somehow I found a strange compassion for the man, given his tortured history. My glossy companions brought my heart an odd comfort.
* * *
Ninety minutes later, I sat in Adrian’s office and debated with myself just how much to tell him. I didn’t need the ‘Emari, you should come stay with us’ lecture again. I’d proved to the Spokane Courts that I was capable in every way to be considered an adult, and was granted emancipation.
“Nightmares again?” Adrian asked.
“Ya think?” I wasn’t being disrespectful. We were just beyond fluff and formality.
“Any idea what the stress trigger is this time?”
“Um…” I squirmed against the soft red leather of his couch. “There’s this guy…”
A small conspiratorial smile crept onto Adrian’s face while I paused, contemplating.
“Uh, no. I mean a bad guy. He’s calling me. At work. Like phone stalking me.” I hated admitting even this little bit to him, but most of the time his psycho-babble really did help.
Adrian leaned across the desk. His eyes narrowed and deep canyons grooved his forehead. “And just what is being done to stop him?”
Great! Just what I need. ‘Protective-daddy’ mode.
“It’s all good.” I waved him down. “My friend, Jesse, escorts me to and from my car every day and Collin keeps one of the Loss Prevention guys in the department as much as he can.” Despite playing it off as no big deal to Adrian, a cold uneasiness squirmed through me like night crawlers.
“Is he only calling you at work?” The Doc was in full-on interrogation mode now.
“Yes. Only at work. But it’s weird. It’s like he’s watching me but the LP guys never find anyone.”
“Tell me you’ve called the police.”
“Sure, sure. Nothing the cops can do unless the guy actually kills me or something, though.”
Adrian sat back in his chair with a harrumph of frustration, the ‘daddy-look’ still plastered on his face. “Emari…”
“Adrian. Don’t even start.”
“Then why are you here?” he retorted.
“The night terrors? You’re supposed to say a bunch of ‘shrinky’ kinds of things to make me feel better.”
So he did. And when he was done, he walked me to the door. He gave me the usual ‘be careful’ and ‘buckle up for safety’ speech; something he and Dad must’ve gone to school together to learn.
Then he gave me his best fatherly hug. I had to admit, his arms truly did feel like the safest place in the world.
“See you for Thanksgiving?” he asked.
“Sure, Uncle Adrian. Kiss Celeste and the kids for me.” He wasn’t really my uncle. Just my father’s closest friend in the world.
“Of course. See you then, Emari.”
“See ya.”
I shambled into work after my meeting with Adrian. Ivy saw me for the zombie I was, so in contrast to her perky pixiness. Her ornery smile wavered as I drew nearer but she reined it in. She’d given up months ago with the ‘you look like hell’ comments. Visine and Covergirl couldn’t wreak miracles that big. She opened her arms and I stepped inside.
“You okay?” she whispered.
I stepped out of her embrace. “Sure, sure,” I said with a grin, and a quote from one of our favorite books. The marbled blue of her eyes softened into limpid pools, so vast any guy could swim in them. I tucked a wisp of her soft brown hair behind her ear. “Let’s get to work.”
She pinched my arm playfully as she released me. “Collin’s got LP scheduled in an hour, but Blake came early, off the clock,” she informed me as we sorted children’s clothing to reshelf. “Jess’s gonna be pissed you didn’t wait for him.”
Jesse DeLaRosa was the closest thing to a real life Prince Charming in my world. He was instantly likeable, flirtatious in the sweetest way, easy at being a fast friend, faultlessly kindhearted. His ingenuous smile lit up any room, a constant feature that graced his lightly bronzed face. He sang or whistled while he worked, no matter how mundane or dirty the job, a lingering accent, from his days as a child in Puerto Rico colored his speech. He was a couple of years older than Ivy and me, but he clicked with our dorkiness and we’d become best friends. He’d taken it upon himself to be my daily escort–even on his days off.
“He’ll get over it,” I told her, but inwardly I hoped he wasn’t too mad at me.
Every time the phone rang, it jangled our nerves. Ivy’s hand lashed out with the speed of a viper to
protect me from innocuous callers.
“You can’t field all of the calls, Ives,” I said after the fourth call.
“I can try,” she replied with a smug half smile.
The stalker wouldn’t call with Ivy present, and we both knew it. He would wait until she went on break, as though he had a bird’s nest in the middle of the department. He wanted me alone, separated from the pack, vulnerable.
Ivy reluctantly took her break and Blake haunted the racks. Despite my anticipation, adrenalin shot through me like an ice river and my heart banged against my ribcage when the phone rang. I watched Ivy’s shadow disappear from sight as I reached a quivering hand to the phone.
“Children’s Department,” I choked out. Collin instructed us not to give our names until this ‘situation’ was resolved.
“I see you,” the voice purred gruffly. I envisioned a lion crouched in tall grass. Rigid, poised for attack. His words were soft and succinct, as though masking something from me, but the smooth lacquered surface didn’t camouflage the menace that roiled underneath–like the delicate crust of cooled lava veiling the molten lake beneath.
Blake’s eyes locked on my face as he lurched away from a rack of boy’s jeans. They followed the silent nod of my head. The muscles of his line-backer physique hardened as he prowled the department.
“I’m sorry. What was that?” I delayed. My voice quivered with anger, to my dismay. I wasn’t scared. I was pissed. But I knew he would read it as fear–just what he wanted.
“Your rent-a-cop won’t catch me.” The lion’s throaty warning growl. His voice turned acerbic, his need to induce fear sparked electrically through the phone. “Nah. He’s not even a rent-a-cop. Not even a pathetic mall cop. Just some punk kid they hired to baby-sit the store.”
Baby-sit? Either this guy’s full of crap or he’s freakin’ huge. I was betting on full of crap.
He chortled at my unease, and I heard something familiar but untouchable in his voice. Like I knew him from somewhere–and that pissed me off even more. “What the hell do you want?” I demanded.
“Just you,” he said slowly. He sniggered again with a ghoulish glee and the line went dead.
“Damn it!” I slammed the phone down and turned with a start. A customer, a woman with a little boy about five glared at me with righteous indignation. “Oh. I’m so sorry. I just…it was…there was this guy.”
She harrumphed and stormed away, towing the boy in her sanctimonious wake. No doubt to complain to my manager.
So. Let her.
Blake shuffled up to the quad, what we associates at Cash’s Department Store called our customer service desks. “Sorry, Em. No luck.” He looked every bit the defeated athlete, his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets making his shoulders and arms bulge.
“It’s all good. He’ll get bored eventually and go away.” I hope.

Chapter 2 Haunted

I was prophetic, if not pathetic. The calls ceased and my stalker fell silent, not so much as a heavy breather. Perhaps he’d moved on to some other prey. Poor girl. Everyone around me breathed easier. But a specter of black ice lingered under the surface, chilled me to my core. Deep down I felt a dark and malevolent storm brewing. I wondered if I’d manage to survive it unscathed or if my entire world would shatter with the velocity of its fury.
* * *

Thanks Su for being my guest today! Su’s social media links and buylinks are below:

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Dream-Weaver-Novels/


http://www.dreamweavernovels.com


http://dreamweavernovels.blogspot.com/

Here are the buylinks for “Dream Weaver”:

Posted in promotion

An Anniversary Thank You!

Hello Everyone! I hope all is well with you! This month marks the one year anniversary of my first book “The Super Spies and the Cat Lady Killer”.  It hit Amazon on the 13th of March last year and I’ve learned a lot this first year of publication.

The main thing I’ve learned is that there is a lot of support from other authors in the publication arena.  And I’d like to take a moment and thank some of them for their support. They have been there for me when I’ve had questions or concerns. They’ve shared their knowledge with me, whether it was an editorial opinion or some marketing knowledge, I’ve grown as a result of their feedback.   I’d like to take a moment and send them a huge “THANK YOU” and if you get a chance check out their books, you might find something you’ll really like. 🙂 I know I have. 🙂

Rachel VanDyken:

Pull (A Seaside Novel Book 2)Jaded rock star, Demetri Daniels, is in Hell — also known as Seaside, Oregon. Sent to rehab after nearly getting himself killed last year, his record company wants nothing more than for him to lay low, away from the limelight.

Irritated and more alone than he’s ever been in his life, Demetri tries desperately to rebuild his shattered reputation as a drug addict and player, which proves to be difficult when he meets Alyssa.

Alyssa is everything he should stay away from. She’s beautiful, smart, but above all else, she’s damaged. And one thing Demetri has learned is two broken hearts don’t equal a whole.
In the end, he has to decide if he can rise above the life he’s created in learning from his past mistakes, or fall into the darkness of his choices.

**This is a New Adult Novel..minor language, drug usage, and sexual situations. Not appropriate for younger readers**

Barnes and Noble:  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/pull-rachel-van-dyken/1114720164?ean=2940016376530

Kay Springsteen Tate:

Abiding Echoes (Echoes of Orson's Folly)Love is family…The McGee family is devastated when their beloved patriarch, Justin, suffers a heart attack. Having lost their mother too soon, Ryan and Sean can only pray for their father’s recovery.Love is endless…Justin knows how much his children love and need him, but he’s tired and they have families of their own now. Watching his sons with their wives is bittersweet for him, because it makes him miss his beloved Beth all the more. Not a day goes by when he doesn’t think about her… want to be with her.Love is timeless…And suddenly, she’s there. With him, beside him in some strange way he doesn’t understand. But speaking and reminiscing with her about the day they met and how they fell in love seems more real than the heartbroken family holding vigil at his bedside.Love is abiding…Justin’s love for Beth has only strengthened over their years apart and he’s longed for the time when he’d see her again. Finally, that time is here. Who has the greater claim on him, his family… his grandchildren… or the love of his life?
Amazon:  http://www.amazon.com/Abiding-Echoes-Orsons-Folly-ebook/dp/B008MRR876
Barnes and Noble:  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/abiding-echoes-kay-springsteen/1112162718?ean=2940014969529
Lori Lapekes:
Secrets of Catalpa HallMelody Moon has returned to her roots with fame and riches in hopes of finding Gideon, the young man with the strange birthmark on his face. Thoughts of him have haunted her for twenty years, yet no one knows what happened to him. After purchasing Catalpa Hall, their childhood sanctuary, Melody makes an unusual discovery: carved in the wood below the old stage in the hall is her name, Gideon’s name, and the current year.Melody and Gideon were once known as the “Double Uglies,” dubbed as such by Melody’s reprehensible older brother, Dean. The cruel nickname later earned Melody fame as an author of children’s books, but only Gideon knows the nickname had actually precipitated dreadfully more—her brother’s drowning long ago. It’s a loss that’s turned Gideon into the recluse he’s
become.What exactly did happen at the secluded pond behind Catalpa Hall when Melody and Gideon were so young and just trying to get by in the backwoods culture…and who else may have witnessed it? Someone with sinister motives is involved, and is desperately attempting to tear Gideon and Melody apart. Gideon’s love for the enchanting young woman he’d been forced to abandon two decades ago may force him to leave her again, for he feels certain Melody could never understand the truth. At least–his perception of the truth.
Barnes and Noble:  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/secrets-of-catalpa-hall-lori-lapekes/1110362265?ean=2940014565875
Sharon Ledwith:

The Last Timekeepers and the Arch of AtlantisWhen Amanda Sault and her four classmates are caught in a major food fight at school, they are given the choice of suspension or yard duty. It was a no-brainer. A two-week crash course in landscaping leads the kids to discover a weathered stone arch buried in an overgrown backyard. Instead of a forgotten lawn ornament, it turns out to be an ancient time portal from the lost continent of Atlantis. Chosen by an Atlantean Magus to be Timekeepers—legendary time travelers sworn to keep history safe from an evil force—the five children, along with two offbeat adults, are sent on the adventure of their lives to save the Earth from an uncertain future. The Timekeepers’ first mission lands them in England in 1214, where they must find an adolescent Robin Hood and his band of merry teens before history is turned upside-down.

Amazon:  http://www.amazon.com/Last-Timekeepers-Arch-Atlantis-ebook/dp/B0084AKSP0

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-last-timekeepers-and-the-arch-of-atlantis-x2019-sharon-ledwith/1111074347?ean=2940014363952

Lindsay Downs:

A Body in the Attic (Emily Dahill, CID)A missing soldier. A break in. A former, now soldier, model tells of an aborted assault. A passageway hiding more than years of dust and cobwebs. Rooms where there are none. The reappearance of the mysterious’brown-haired man’. What, if anything, ties these random facts together.
With precision and dedication Emily and Dakota start to unravel some of the questions. Only when an FBI agent steps up do the facts start to merge into what appears to be a terrorist conspiracy.
A body found halfway across the country is the final clue in answering all of the question, but one.
Will Emily be able to save a life before it’s to late?

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Body-Attic-Emily-Dahill-ebook/dp/B007DOSU3U

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/body-in-the-attic-lindsay-downs/1108890141?ean=2940013998872

Thanks to these wonderful authors! I appreciate your help and guidance you’ve shown me in my first year of publication! 🙂

And if you haven’t picked up your copy of  “The Super Spies and the Cat Lady Killer” you still can! Here are the covers, blurbs, and buy links!

The Super Spies and the Cat Lady KillerThis book opens in a small town in Michigan where fifteen-year-old Sarah Cole is stuck spending the summer at her Aunt and Uncle’s with her sister, Lacey. She’s not happy with the situation until she befriends a girl named Jackie. The three girls stumble upon the ruthless murder of a reclusive neighborhood woman. One of the officers investigating the crime believes the girls are responsible for her death. Fearing that this officer will frame them for the murder, the girls organize their own detective squad. They become the Super Spies and start their own fact-finding mission.  The Super Spies can’t understand why anyone would want to murder the “Cat Lady” until they start digging into her past and discover a horrible crime that happened thirty years ago. They uncover a connection between the two crimes and attempt to bring this information to the police, only to be reprimanded for meddling in the inquest. Not only are the girls upset by the admonition, but they also struggle with the fact that their exuberant investigating could provide a legal loophole allowing the killer to go free. To make matters worse, the police don’t even believe them. Frustrated by this turn of events, the Super Spies realize it’s up to them to snare the Cat Lady killer, or die trying…

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Super-Spies-Lady-Killer-ebook/dp/B007JZH61K

Barnes and Noble:  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-super-spies-and-the-cat-lady-killer-lisa-orchard/1109518725?ean=2940014338202

Here’s the second book in the Super Spies series!

The Super Spies and the High School BomberThis book opens in a small town in Michigan where Sarah Cole and her sister Lacey are now living with their Aunt and Uncle. Still reeling from the fact her parents have disappeared, Sarah starts the school year with her new friend Jackie Jenkins. When Sarah learns the school has been bombed, she’s filled with dread. Uncle Walt is a teacher, and he was in the school when the bomb exploded. Taking matters into her own hands, Sarah decides to search for him. The rest of the Super Spies are right behind her. When a fireman chases them away from the school, Sarah becomes suspicious. She decides to investigate. The FBI arrives on the scene. Sarah realizes this bombing could have even bigger implications. Searching for the bombers, Sarah is introduced to the world of terrorism. She fears that the bombing and her parents’ disappearance are connected and terrorists are involved. To make matters worse, the bombers are determined to finish the job. Can the Super Spies find the bombers before it’s too late?

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Super-Spies-School-Bomber-ebook/dp/B008P8O7OY

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-super-spies-and-the-high-school-bomber-lisa-orchard/1112263058?ean=2940014992244

Thanks for stopping by!