Monday, September 25, 2017

Location, location, location

You’ve heard the phrase: location, location, location?  It’s a real estate mantra meant to emphasize the location of the house can ultimately be the most important element in the decision to buy. And if you watch any of those real estate shows on cable television with any type of regularity, you’re nodding your head right now in agreement.

For an author, location is a completely different ball of wax altogether. We’re talking about where the story is set. In science fiction it’s often a brand new world of the author’s design or a hypothetical version of one we all recognize. Historical romance takes a great deal of time, trouble and research to guarantee the setting is accurate to the era the author or her characters chose. Westerns… well, you get the idea. 

And sometimes the location/setting becomes its own character. Daphne DeMaurier's Rebecca wouldn't be Rebecca with Manderley. Can you imagine Harry's adventures anywhere except within the walls of Hogwart's Castle?

My first book, a romantic novella, was set in Washington D.C. by necessity: it was about the First Daughter and the head of her Secret Service detail. And I have a series of erotic spy thrillers set all over the world due to the nature of those stories. And while my full length romances all have characters from the Philadelphia area, they’re set in a fictional town in Minnesota. My upcoming release, A Love Restrained, is the first of my books set in my hometown, Philadelphia.

Writing about fictional persons falling in love amidst triumphs, tragedies, and an almost unfair level of danger, in such familiar surroundings as the very neighborhood in which I live was exhilarating. Not having to research geography, weather patterns, vernacular provided the opportunity to really delve deeper than I ever have into the characters and their motivations. And I think the end result is my best story to date.

I guess it really is all about location.



For more information about A Love Restrained, releasing worldwide on October 4th, including cover art and an excerpt, please see: http://www.tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Flade_Becky/a-love-restrained.htm 

To pre-order A Love Restrained:

Kindle US http://amzn.to/2wzC8rc  
Kindle UK http://amzn.eu/5G6ZPN9   


Thursday, September 21, 2017

Between Despair and Ecstasy by Daryl Devoré #BookHugs #hot #romance


The third book in my rock star trilogy releases on September 29th. The finale of Erika and Darien's epic rollercoaster romance.

How can Erika prove to herself and Darien that she loves and trusts him? Simple. All she has to do is jump out of a plane.

Concerned for his fiancée, Erika Bailey’s safety, rock star Darien Scott races to Bangkok to protect her, only to discover his brother is missing. Fearing the worse, he contacts his nemesis, Gan, and makes a repulsive deal that will free his brother and protect Erika’s club, The Pink Flamingo. Or so he thought. When a python and Gan are involved, things go sour, and Darien sinks into a deep depression.

 

Erika is disheartened by the betrayal of her parents. Her father's destruction of her club, and the humiliation of her mother’s drunken behavior have her feeling down, but those are the least of her worries. She has a wedding to plan, but won’t. Having been betrayed too often, she’s scared to trust Darien.

 

How can Erika prove to herself and Darien that she loves and trusts him? Simple. All she has to do is jump out of a plane.

 

Purchase at - eXtasybooks

 

Excerpt –

 

Sweat streamed off Darien’s brow. Some dripped into his eyes. It stung. His heart throbbed against his ribs. Fire inched down his throat. Every muscle in his body ached. His head pounded from the pandemonium. The explosions. The screams. The pain threatening to split his skull. Dropping his head back, he closed his eyes. His chest heaved as he gulped air. He needed a moment. Get some strength back.

The screams grew louder.

Damn.

He inhaled and released a long breath.

They wanted him. He had to continue. To perform. Like a trained monkey. Do people even do that anymore? Train monkeys? He peeled his eyes open. The glare of the overhead lights blazed down at him. He lifted his head. The screams grew louder.

“Oh. So, you want more?”

But what if I don’t have any more? What if I just can’t continue? Twelve weeks. Four shows a week. I’m beat.

The roar from eighty thousand Parisians was tumultuous. Fans yelled at the top of their lungs. They pounded their feet on the floor, raising their hands in the air, clapping. Glow sticks, cell phones, and lighters swayed like flowers in a breeze.

He grinned. Eighty thousand Parisians and one fiancée. He glanced to his left. Seated on the top stage step was Erika. She’d arrived just minutes before the show started. Just enough time for a passionate, but quick, hello kiss. He needed more. He needed her, and he knew it. She smiled at him. He loved that smile. He could stare at it all day. The way her soft lips curved up. A hint of sassiness in her expression.

Just finish the show. Grab Erika and run. Dodge the fans. Just get out of here.

He looked out over the crowd. “But what if I’m too tired to continue?”

“No,” the crowd wailed.

He grinned. “Well, maybe I could go on if you told me you loved me.”

The cacophony of sounds was deafening. “Je t’aime. Love you.”

He lifted his hands. “Do you love me?”

Oui. Yes.”

He ripped his black t-shirt over his head and threw it into the fans. “Do. You. Love. Me?” He yelled out as he glanced at Erika.

She jumped up and down, screaming with the crowd.

“I can’t hear you.”

The building shook with the fans’ frenzy.

“Five. Six. Five. Six. Seven. Eight.”

Fireworks exploded. Lasers shot around the stadium. Cass, the drummer, crashed the symbols as Darien spun, posed then inhaled a deep breath and opened his mouth to sing.

About the Author

 

Daryl Devoré lives in an old farmhouse in Ontario, Canada, with her husband, a black cat named Licorice and some house ghosts. Daryl loves to take long walks up her quiet country road or snowshoe across the back acres, and in the summer, kayak along the St. Lawrence River. She's touched a moon rock, a mammoth and a meteorite. She's been deep in the ocean in a submarine, flown high over Niagara Falls in a helicopter and used the ladies room in a royal palace. Life's an adventure and Daryl's having fun living it.

 

Where to find Daryl Devoré





 

Friendships are important. How do they start? CS Lewis knows

Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: "What! You too? I thought that no one but myself…"

Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Kris Bock Ghost #BookHug Exchange



Please welcome guest author Kris Bock!

People have mixed feelings about autumn – that "back to school" anxiety can last well into adulthood – but it's my favorite time of year in New Mexico. The temperatures are finally dropping, and the smell of roasting green chile fills the air. (Stop by my blog for information on the New Mexico chile and some Southwestern recipes.) It's the perfect time to curl up with a good book. Of course, ANY time is the right time for a good book! I hope you're staying safe, warm, and dry, with plenty of good books to read. ~ Kris

Counterfeits

Jenny returns to her grandparents’ art camp in a remote New Mexico town after her grandmother’s sudden death. That night she wakes to the noise of intruders. What do the strangers want? As more bizarre events unfold, Jenny realizes the people she thought she knew are not what they seem – least of all Rob, an old friend whose past may be coming back to haunt them all.

Counterfeits is romantic suspense in the Southwest that will interest fans of Mary Stewart, Lillian Stewart Carl, and Barbara Michaels.

Counterfeits is the kind of romantic suspense novel I have enjoyed since I first read Mary Stewart’s Moonspinners…. 5 Stars” – Roberta at Sensuous Reviews blog



Chapter 1

Jenny’s rolling suitcase bumped up the porch steps. Once, twice, three times, like a knock that would never be answered. Tears stung her eyes in the cold night air. How many times had she rushed to this door with a sense of coming home? Growing up, she had spent every summer at her grandparents’ art camp. She hadn’t been back as often in the last ten years, but it still felt more like home than any place else in the world.

She took a shuddering breath and turned away to gaze up at the dark sky. Stars splashed across the moonless night, so many stars she could hardly pick out the constellations. The band of the Milky Way sparkled like a streak of glitter paint on velvet paper. She had gazed up at that sky a million times, and yet it filled her with awe. After a decade living among the lights of New York City, it was easy to forget that nature had her own Great White Way.

She shivered. During her summers in the northwestern New Mexico mountains, nights had typically been mild, even at over 6000 feet elevation. Now the temperature had to be dropping toward freezing. Maybe that was why the vast, chilled sky seemed so distant and lonely.

Jenny leaned back against the door and closed her eyes. She was so tired. Maybe she’d take a few extra days and rest. But she couldn’t bring herself to enter her grandparents’ house and go to bed, knowing she’d be alone. When her grandfather had died two years before, her heart had broken. Now her grandmother was gone as well.

Jenny tried not to imagine her grandmother’s last moments, when the car she was driving had skidded off the twisty mountain road two days before. She tried to blank out all thoughts, all grief. She took a ragged breath, the frigid air searing her lungs, and released it slowly, hoping to empty her mind as well.

Her thoughts refused to quiet, while her heart ached with emptiness, a dark hole as vast and cold as the night sky.

***

Jenny rose from sleep slowly, her body resisting. She could see nothing in the pitch black. Where was she? She blinked, trying to make sure her eyes were really open.

Memories broke through the fog. The phone call, the rush across country, the late arrival. Crawling into bed in her grandparents’ upstairs guest room. She groaned and pulled up the blanket. Morning must be hours away, given the darkness.

The old house creaked, but no sounds drifted in from outside. Maybe that’s what woke her; she was used to the murmur of city sounds all night long. Who’d have thought that would become normal?

Her head pounded. Probably dehydration from the high elevation and dry air. She should get up, drink a glass of water, take a couple of aspirin. Her head would thank her in the morning. If only she could make herself move.

The house creaked again, followed by a rhythmic sound – like footsteps. Jenny jerked upright, her ears straining. Had she heard a voice?

She shook her head. She must still be half asleep, dreaming. Imagining her grandparents were still here. Wishful thinking.

Downstairs, a door closed. Jenny clutched the blanket. Imagination be damned. She was not alone.

Kris Bock writes novels of suspense and romance with outdoor adventures and Southwestern landscapes. The Mad Monk’s Treasure follows the hunt for a long-lost treasure in the New Mexico desert. In The Dead Man’s Treasure, estranged relatives compete to reach a buried treasure by following a series of complex clues. In The Skeleton Canyon Treasure, sparks fly when reader favorites Camie and Tiger help a mysterious man track down his missing uncle. Whispers in the Dark features archaeology and intrigue among ancient Southwest ruins. What We Found is a mystery with strong romantic elements about a young woman who finds a murder victim in the woods.

Read excerpts at www.krisbock.com or visit her Amazon page. Sign up for the Kris Bock newsletter for announcements of new books, sales, and more.

The Mad Monk's Treasure, “Smart romance with an 'Indiana Jones' feel,” is currently free at all e-book retailers.


Monday, September 18, 2017

#BookHugs #Unexpected


On Sale for .99¢ 
September 15th – September 30th
 
Unexpected
(A Unexpected Novel Book One)
Valerie Ullmer
 
Genre:  Contemporary M/M Romance
 
Blurb
 
A chance meeting will change their lives forever…

From the moment he entered the dark taproom, Caleb Hunt found himself drawn to the handsome man who sat alone at the end of the bar, away from the crowd. His interest in the dark-haired, muscled adonis took him by surprise, not remembering when he’d felt such hunger from a simple glimpse. Unable to stay away, he quickly found an open seat next to him and slid into it. When Ronan turned his ice-blue eyes to Caleb and introduced himself, his warm hand sent shivers of desire through his body and he was enthralled.

Ronan Scott’s boring Friday night had taken a turn for the better when Caleb took the seat next to him. Over the next few hours, he found Caleb easy to talk to and at the same time, he found that he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the beautiful man. Caleb captured his attention in a way that no other had for as long as he could remember. Taking a chance, he leaned forward and captured Caleb’s lips with his. And with the simple kiss, Ronan understood that Caleb would become an essential part of his life.  

As Ronan and Caleb explore their new relationship and integrate their lives together, they realize that not everything will be so seamless…
 
Buy Links:
 
 
 
 
Excerpt
 
That’s when he spotted him and everything stopped.
His breathing hitched in his chest and his heart thudded once, hard, and even the music seemed to fade as his gaze landed on a dark-haired man who sat by himself at the bar.  As Caleb’s eyes slid down the man’s body of their own accord, he noted the fitted black tee that emphasized the muscles of his arms, back, and shoulders, before his gaze dropped lower to his legs encased in denim.
When he lifted a beer to his mouth and swallowed, Caleb felt his own throat tighten.  A shiver of desire passed over him.  Never had he felt this way about a man or woman in his life.
Before he could analyze his actions or talk himself out of his stupid plan, he walked toward the man.  Part of him wanted to see if the man was as stunning as he believed from across the bar or if he’d been alone for so long that his mind had conjured the perfect man.
Before Caleb could reach the stool next to him, a beautiful blonde glided up to him, running her hand down his chest.  Her smile flirty and sensual.  Although Caleb had never been propositioned in any way close to resembling what he witnessed, he knew that she offered the man a brazen invitation to get to know her better.
Disappointment flooded Caleb’s chest.
In the next moment, however, she frowned and backed away from him as quickly as she arrived, leaving an empty chair.
Not questioning his good luck, Caleb hurried over and shed his coat, dropping it over the back.  He flagged down the bartender and indicated the beer he wanted.
He sensed the man’s eyes on him, but for the moment, he wasn’t brave enough to turn and catch his gaze.  Not when his breath had stuck in his throat, and he didn’t know if he could speak without sounding choked.
As soon as the bartender handed him his mug, the man turned his body toward him and leaned over to speak, close to his ear.
“Are you here alone?”
Caleb had to bite the inside of his lip in order not to moan out loud at the sexy, deep voice.  Remembering the question, he shook his head and pointed toward Dylan and Garrett across the room.  Dylan, of course, had a woman on his lap and was tracing a finger down her neck, before he leaned toward her and his mouth followed the same trail.
Garrett was looking down at his phone.  The shy woman he’d been talking to had disappeared, much to Caleb’s disappointment, and another was trying, unsuccessfully, to get his attention.  She looked drunk and very loud by the way he flinched every time she spoke.
“Dylan, the one on the right with a woman on his lap, is the biggest flirt in the world.  He’s never serious about any woman he takes home.  Garrett is his best friend, the complete opposite of Dylan, but he’s loyal.”
The man laughed and Caleb couldn’t help the lift of his lips at the sound.  It was deep, rich, and addictive.  But when the man turned his ice-blue eyes on him, something unidentifiable swelled in his chest.  He could sense that he should speak, to keep this gorgeous man talking for as long as possible.  “Are you here alone?”
Smart, Caleb.  Just parrot the same question back.
The man smiled before he nodded over to his group of friends.  Some were flirting, but others were enjoying the company of their friends on a Friday night.
“The ginger is Hawk; he’s a divorce lawyer who is handling Ryan’s divorce.  That’s why they’re hunched over their beers.  Ryan’s wife apparently hadn’t been faithful during their entire four-year marriage, and he found out when he came home early from a business trip.  Jack is the one who is flirting with the group of women; he’s like Dylan in that way, never serious.  He’s a CEO of a tech company and he could have any woman with his looks and the power he exudes, but he’s never been in a serious relationship.  Sam is my second-in-command, the one who looks faintly sick, because Adam is a forensic scientist who loves talking about his work.”
Caleb found himself smiling at the group of friends.  When he glanced at the man, who had turned back to Caleb after pointing out his friends, he snagged Caleb’s gaze.  “So, do you have a girlfriend at home?”
“No.  I can’t remember the last time I had a date, much less a successful one.  You?”
Caleb breathed a sigh of relief when he shook his head.
“I’m Ronan Scott.”  He held his hand out. 
Shit, even the man’s name is sexy.
He had to clear his throat before he reached out and grasped Ronan’s large, warm hand in his.  “Caleb Hunt.”
Something inside Caleb warmed in increments until fireworks exploded behind his skin, all from a simple touch.
 
About Valerie
 
Valerie writes paranormal and contemporary romances with strong alpha males and brilliant, beautiful heroines. She lives in Denver, Colorado with her wonderfully supportive husband and their funny and wise black lab. She's addicted to coffee, crime shows, and reading and writing character driven romances.
 
Social Media
 
FACEBOOK ~ TWITTER ~ PINTEREST ~ INSTAGRAM ~ GOODREADS ~ AMAZON


#BookHugs

 I believe that Love is Love, no matter what race, religion, color, or gender.  Love is Love.
 
 

Friday, September 15, 2017

#BookHugs #YesterdayTodayAlways





Devastated by the death of her husband, Colin, in the London bombings on July 7, 2005, Katherine Murphy-Whithorn builds a wall around her heart determined to never let anyone in again. Settling in to a comfortable routine, her life becomes mundane, until five years later when someone from her rebellious past returns to the city and begins stalking her.

As the curtain falls on 2010 her first love, Jared Martin, walks back into Katherine´s life. Despite him being her first love, he must tear down the barrier she´s created to protect herself. Finally seeing a second chance of a life with him, Katherine couldn´t be happier until another cruel twist of fate strikes. The helicopter returning from the Alpha Ecosse platform, on which Jared is a passenger, ditches in the North Sea. Can he survive the ordeal? Will they get their chance for happiness? Or is fate still not done its dirty deeds? Katherine’s stalker may have his own agenda.

Prologue

1st December 2010

The ScotRail service to Aberdeen pulled away from the platform at Stonehaven. The next stop would be his destination. As the train accelerated, the carriage swayed from side to side. The action reminded him of his mum rocking him after a bad dream. He drifted into a light slumber. When the compartment he was in crossed through a switch, it lurched waking him.

Less than thirty minutes to go. He settled back but was too excited to relax. When the Girdle Ness Lighthouse came into view, he knew he was almost back to the place he was born.

New, to him, construction dotted the landscape. Fresh graffiti adorned the stone parapets of the bridge over the River Dee. The Mitchell Tower at Marischal College, the clock tower of the Aberdeen Town House and the Salvation Army Citadel, vied for attention over the tops of the cluster of newer buildings.

He fooled the medical staff at the secure forensic unit in the south of England. After feigning rehabilitation, they released him into the community but he didn’t stay there long. He did a runner. He had unfinished business in the north east of Scotland.

Adrenalin coursed through him. Giddy with excitement, it was hard for him to remain calm. He shook his hands to try to stem some of the fidgetiness. Now, he was back in Aberdeen where it all began. How much of the city would he recognize? What changed since his departure?

Were the authorities looking for him yet? He would have to act normal so as not to attract attention. Stepping off, he adjusted his Fedora and strode across the concourse to the exit. Diesel fumes hung in the air and caught in the back of his throat. He coughed.

With the exception of the Union Square shopping complex adjacent to the railway station, Guild Street stayed more or less unchanged. Some of the storefronts in the granite buildings transformed, but overall, not a huge difference since he left.

The pavement ended at Market Street forcing him to cross over the road. He continued eastward. The location he sought should be nearby. He stopped for a breather – pressed his back against the building. The ships that supplied and supported the offshore oil industry occupied the available berths on this side of the harbour. Through a gap, the ferry to Lerwick and the terminal were visible on the far side.

The familiar Maritime Museum dominated the head of Shore Brae. Beyond that, the artery curved and became Shiprow. The cobbled road surface and pavement were difficult to traverse. Even the larger stones nearer the buildings were uneven. When he rounded the corner at Provost Ross’s House, another well-known building peeked out. He had come so far now, he couldn’t go back. He strode with purpose up the hill.

The Aberdeen Town House clock tower stretched above the roofline but that was the place he sought. Nestled between Henry’s Bar and the pedestrianized portion of Shiprow stood the As the Pages Turn bookshop.

When a customer exited holding a carrier bag emblazoned with the same signage as over the door, his heart skipped a beat. He hoped the establishment’s ownership hadn’t changed. That would defeat the purpose of his returning to Aberdeen.

The voices in his head only told him to come back. He had unfinished business with the woman with ginger hair – the one with no soul – who ran the retail outlet in front of him.

Now, to find a suitable place to wait and watch and bide his time until the moment was right.

YESTERDAY TODAY ALWAYS is available at amazon for pre-order for the kindle at myBook.to/yesterday-today-always

MELANIE ROBERTSON-KING



Melanie Robertson-King has always been a fan of the written word. Growing up as an only child, her face was almost always buried in a book from the time she could read. Her father was one of the thousands of Home Children sent to Canada through the auspices of The Orphan Homes of Scotland, and she has been fortunate to be able to visit her father’s homeland many times and even met the Princess Royal (Princess Anne) at the orphanage where he was raised.


"Don't let the fear of success hold you back..."

Thursday, September 14, 2017

#Tirgearrpublishing #RomanticSuspense #Thriller Unholy Alliance blurb & excerpt @RowlandKathleen

Blurb, Unholy Alliance:

The worst happened. Her cousin is still missing. Just released from jail for a murder she didn’t commit, thanks to attorney, Grady Fletcher. Tori  Morningstar has no clues. No destination. Just fear for the cousin she believes is held captive by an Irish mob boss, Seamus McGinn. 

What if Tori were to park a food truck in the seedy waterfront neighborhood where the mob operates and hunt for this sadistic killer? Grady must protect the strong woman he’s come to adore.  With emotions on a knife edge, Tori runs on instinct, on the desperation of affection between cousins. With adrenaline pumping, this is it. Tori identifies an island hideout, but Grady warns her to anticipate who her cousin is now. 

Excerpt for Unholy Alliance-- takes place when her attorney, Grady, visits Tori’s food truck, Deep Fried to Taste, for the first time.

She’d walked out of the Gladstone Prison a decade before she’d walked in. After ten years she was free. Free because of Grady. The effects of imprisonment scarred her but also strengthened her resolve. Her heart swelled with gratitude for freedom.
She had a home in her food truck and proved in one day she could make money. She had friends who worked within two blocks of the lot. Her former cellmate embalmed at a funeral home. Down the street, Grady appealed cases of the wrongly accused, and his detective, Maeve, not only found evidence to support his efforts, but she also wanted to know if her cousin was living in terror or dead and at peace. Earlier from her office desk Maeve texted her the link for MissingWomen25to30.com. Friends Amy and Finn were a phone call away. Her parents disappeared on the day of her conviction and bought a house in Carlow, Ireland. She trusted they longed for her as she did them. She mourned the loss of her brother but worried nonstop over Vivienne.
A gaping hole in her heart ached to find her. When she did, she’d take a full breath. Her search began where it left off. Seamus McGinn, the thug who’d framed her.
What did Viv look like now? Was she using the new last name, Valentine? Fairy tale beautiful with waves of blonde hair and a rosebud mouth, her flair for adventure sometimes led to trouble with wild boys.
Grady double-arm waved at her. It was as if he were a two-dimensional character in a dream. Handsome. As upstanding as any man could be. Her legs gave way. The figure in the distance did that, and she grabbed the counter. Dizzy and short of breath, she chastised herself for holding on to the romantic notions she fantasized about a hundred times a day. She stuck her head out the window. “I’m coming out.”
Grady met her on the stairs and offered a hand. The closer he got, the harder it was to concentrate on stepping down. His killer smile showed off two sexy dimples when he said, “It’s noon.”
“Good noon to you.” She gulped. Readying herself for conversation, she took his hand, rose on her toes, and sniffed. “Hmmm, what is that? Shaving lotion? Man perfume?”
He chuckled, and a weird electric awareness went off in her chest. In slow motion, it cracked open slowly, sent out sparkly runners to forgotten girl parts, and pulsed there.
She pulled her shoulders back and lifted her chin. Their gazes locked. Her hair loosened from her bandana. “Drat, I’m a chef. Hair is supposed to stay put.” She took it off, placed the center of the bandana on the nape of her neck and tied a knot on the top of her head.
He reached to help tuck the ends under. “You’re so darn cute.”
“Oooo, that scent. Are you going to tell me what it is?”
Eau des Baux Eau.” The warm, deep sound of his voice sent more sensations of want right through her. Behind him, the sun stretched a bit higher and seemed to shine just on him. “You like it?”
“I sure do. Vanilla. You smell like a cookie.” Her heart thudded harder than it should.
“Do you like cookies?” He bent his head for a kiss.
She kissed Mr. Good Noon with the wavy reddish-brown hair and body made to lose sleep over. Her breath hitched, and she took a step back from heartbreak. No reason to set sights on a man way out of her league. The glow dimmed, and the warmth backed off. “Care to look at my menu?” She stepped closer to the blackboard.
“Now you’re speaking my language. I’m starving.” He raised his eyebrows and the corners of his mouth lifted. “Pimento cheeseburger corn dog.”
“That’s my great food mash-up.”
“I can see why. It blends two favorites, the cheeseburger, and the corn dog.”

All purchase links are below:
http://www.tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Rowland_Kathleen/unholy-alliance.htm

Meet the author, Kathleen Rowland, and her dark and dangerous world of romantic suspense. 

Award-winning author Kathleen Rowland is devoted to giving her readers fast-paced, high-stakes suspense with a sizzling love story sure to melt their hearts.  Writing a romantic suspense series for Tirgearr Publishing, Deadly Alliance is followed by Unholy AllianceBittersweet Alliance in the works. Keep an icy drink handy while reading these sizzling romantic thrillers.
Kathleen used to write computer programs but now writes novels.   She grew up in Iowa where she caught lightning bugs, ran barefoot, and raced her sailboat on Lake Okoboji.  Now she wears flip-flops and sails with her husband, Gerry, on Newport Harbor but wishes there were lightning bugs in California.
Kathleen exists happily with her witty CPA husband, Gerry, in their 70’s poolside retreat in Southern California where she adores time spent with visiting grandchildren, dogs, one bunny, and noisy neighbors.  While proud of their five children who’ve flown the coop, she appreciates the luxury of time to write.  If you’d enjoy secrets behind books,  signup for Kathleen’s newsletter on her website:  

Wednesday, September 13, 2017

Prove yourself brave, truthful, and unselfish...

...and someday, you will be a real book too
Okay assuming most everyone has seen and/or read Pinocchio, we all know that's not how the line goes. Nevertheless, that's how life as a digital first author feels.
Digital first??  What's that???? I am so glad you asked. Before the advent of the eReader, being published was HARD. Like really hard. Like nearly fucking impossible. You had to sacrifice a virgin under a purple moon naked on the third Thursday of the seventh year kind of hard.
Then came the eReader. And digital first was born. It’s not exactly easy now but it is POSSIBLE. And that’s frickin delightful.


You write a book, then polish it to perfection (or your vision of perfection), and begin submitting it to…publishers.
Woowhoo. Used to be you had woo an agent first, then they tried to woo the publisher. But with digital first publishers, in large part, you go directly to the horse.
With the dawn of digital first (no paper) came a flood of small, boutique publishers* catering to a specific demographic – the electronic Reader. These houses accept non-agented submissions largely because they don’t offer advances. And the author is expected to bear the brunt of the marketing – something that was, previously, done in large part by the publisher.
Because there are no agents, no advances and the publisher isn’t paying for the bulk of the promotional work, the publisher sees more revenue AS DO THE ATHORS. This provides a REAL opportunity for new writers and new material to be competitive in a market that, lets face it, wasn't. Non-traditional voices, i.e. not conforming to market trends, are being published, being read, and changing perspectives.
It’s an amazing time to be a writer**.
My books are real books, regardless if they went digital first or not. The rights were purchased by a publisher. They were professionally edited and formatted. They are copyrighted and registered with the Library of Congress. They can be borrowed from the public library’s digital catalog. I get royalty payments. And I can sue anyone who infringes upon my intellectual property.
My books are real books but if paper is how you gauge authenticity – I have those too*.
I have one question for those of you still thinking ebooks aren’t real books:

When your favorite band stopped recording CDs and went digital, were their songs no longer music?



Thoughts? Opinions?
Share them below, please. Just keep them respectful.


* Some digital-first publishers failed. Others flourished. As in all endeavors, quality rises to the top. And several of the finest digital-first imprints have been acquired by a Big-5 publisher [Hachette, Harper Collins, Simon & Schuster, Penguin Random House, and Macmillan], further legitimizing the digital-first business plan.
** I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the rise of the self-published book. However, the topic requires a lot more than a footnote – like a whole blog post or two – so I shall keep those thoughts for another day.
*** Many digital-first publishing houses do offer Print-on-Demand. Instead of the publisher printing out thousands of copies on speculation, a book is printed as it’s ordered by the reader who then incurs the cost of printing that book. It averages about $14.99 per paperback. And is a far more ecologically friendly practice.