P.G. Forte's Blog, page 51
December 1, 2018
Two Events in One!
Christmas Romance
All-Genres Giveaway
December 1-25
Kindle Fire 7 • Ebook Prize Packs • Amazon Gift Cards & More!
https://bookwrapt.com/christmas-romance-giveaway/
Christmas is where you find it. You could be at home with loved ones, at a chance
meetup with strangers, or basking on a tropical beach. But for 7 lucky winners of our
giveaway and book fair, a bit of holidays will arrive in the form of a Kindle Fire, ebook
prize pack, or Amazon gift card. Enter now for your chance to win!
a Rafflecopter giveaway
While buying for others, don’t forget to treat yourself! Shop our fair for romance bargains.
Plus, get your FREE exclusive download and enter a bonus giveaway!
https://bookwrapt.com/christmas-romance-book-fair/
(This giveaway is sponsored by the authors listed below)
Allyson R. Abbott • Amanda Uhl • Amy Knupp • Angel Lawson • Bethany Strobel • Cailin
Briste • Christine Ashworth • Constance Phillips • D. Lieber • Danni Rose • Debbie White
• Elizabeth Rose • Holly Cortelyou • Honey Phillips • Inge-Lise Goss • Jacki Delecki • Jan
O'Hara • Jana Richards • Joan Reeves • Jordyn White • Katherine Gilbert • Laura
Ashwood • Lucy Lakestone • Melissa McClone • Mona Sedrak • Naomi Bellina • Nicole
Casey • PG Forte • Rose Pearson • Simone Leigh • Stacy Gold • Tena Stetler • Aileen
Harkwood
November 15, 2018
PARANORMAL ROMANCE & URBAN FANTASY GIVEAWAY
PARANORMAL ROMANCE & URBAN FANTASY GIVEAWAY
November 15 – December 5
Kindle Fire 7 • Ebook Prize Packs • Multiple Amazon Gift Cards
https://bookwrapt.com/paranormal-roma...
Paranormal romance, fantasy romance, and urban fantasy fans, we’ve got a giveaway
just for you. Enter and you could take home a Kindle Fire 7, Amazon gift card, or ebook
prize pack where you get to choose the books you want to win on Amazon, including
that latest PNR bestseller you’re lusting after.
https://bookwrapt.com/pnr-uf-book-fair/
And though Halloween may be over, those of us who love witches, vampires, fae,
demons, and dragons can never get enough. Feed your fiction addiction with our page
full of tasty ebook bargains. All books 2.99 or less, some free!
(This giveaway is sponsored by the authors listed below)
Alex Gordon • Allyson Lindt • Ani Gonzalez • Bec McMaster • Catty Diva • Christine
Grabowski • E.B. Black • Grace White • Isaiyan Morrison • JC Andrijeski • Jen L. Grey •
Julie Trettel • Karen Michelle Nutt • Karina Kantas • Katherine Gilbert • Kerry Blaisdell •
L.D. Rose • L.E. Harrison • Laura Greenwood • Leigh Anderson • Mary Abshire •
Maureen Bonatch • Meg Ripley • Mia McKimmy • Mila Young • Monique Singleton • PG
Forte • Selena Kitt • Skyler Andra • Tmonique Stephens • Aileen Harkwood
October 23, 2018
On Sale Now!
When you live forever, a few mistakes are bound to happen.
Vampire Conrad Quintano has been around for centuries -- long enough to know falling for a human is a terrible idea. Much less falling for adventure-seeking hippie Desert Rose and agreeing to raise her babies.
Raised in virtual isolation, Marc and Julie Fischer have never known their unique status in the world. But once they're in San Francisco, the family reunion is nothing like they anticipated and they're thrust into a world they're completely unprepared for.
Available at Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Entangled Publishing |Kobo
October 19, 2018
MY FAVORITE MONSTER - MULTI-AUTHOR GIVEAWAY -
The gang at Here Be Magic loves fantasy -- and all the creatures that go with it. We want to hear YOUR favorite too! Be sure to enter our HALLOWEEN GIVEAWAY and you might win a treat!
https://herebemagic.blogspot.com/2018/10/my-favorite-monster-multi-author.html
October 11, 2018
Chocolate and Book Boyfriends!
CHOCOLATE & BOOK
BOYFRIENDS HALLOWEEN
All-Genres Romance Giveaway
October 11-31
Kindle Fire 7 • Chocolate • Ebook Prize Packs • Amazon Gift Cards
https://bookwrapt.com/halloween-roman...
Who doesn’t love Halloween? Scares from ghosts and winds rattling branches, and
urban legends abound, the perfect excuse to cuddle with a significant other, even a
boyfriend of the book variety. Oh, and let’s not forget the candy! Which is why we’re
celebrating with a CHOCOLATE & BOOK BOYFRIENDS HALLOWEEN GIVEAWAY!
https://bookwrapt.com/halloween-roman...
Plus, it doesn't matter what flavor of romance "candy" you'd like this Halloween, our
book fair has something for everyone, contemporary, paranormal, historical, suspense,
fantasy, and science fiction. All books 2.99 or less, with several free!
Sponsored by the authors listed below:
Allison Temple • Amanda Uhl • Bethany Strobel • C.A. King • Cailin Briste • Cara Marsi •
Carrie Pulkinen • Cherie Claire • Christine Myers • Crystal Dawn • Debbie White • Donna
Schlachter • E.B. Black • Eli Lang • Elizabeth Rose • Erzabet Bishop • Genevieve St-
Yves • Jackie Weger • Jacqueline Diamond • Jacquie Biggar • Jan O'Hara • JC
Andrijeski • Joan Reeves • Joanne Dannon • Jordyn White • Karina Kantas • Katherine
Gilbert • Kerry Blaisdell • Keta Diablo • Kharma Kelley • L.D. Rose • Laurel O'Donnell •
Lia Davis • Lucy Lakestone • Maria Elena Alonso Sierra • Marilyn Peake • Mary Abshire •
Mary Morgan • Maureen Bonatch • Megyn Ward • Melissa McClone • Mona Sedrak • PG
Forte • Sarina Rose • Sherrie Lea Morgan • Simone Leigh • Stacy Gold • Tena Stetler •
Tricia Tyler • Veronica Blake • Victoria Saccenti • Whitley Cox • Aileen Harkwood
October 4, 2018
Curl Up with a Book
Curl Up with a Book
FACEBOOK SCAVENGER HUNT
October 5-8
https://bookwrapt.com/curl-up-with-a-...
Curl up in a comfy chair, grab your favorite beverage, and prepare to play our scavenger
hunt. You could be the lucky winner of our $90 gourmet gift basket grand prize or win an
Amazon gift card!
With 26 authors participating—many hosting individual giveaways of their own—we’ve
got plenty of fun surprises and treats. It’s super easy and fun to play. Click the link and
join the hunt!
Authors Participating in the Hunt
Alex Gordon • Allison Temple • Amanda Uhl • Anne McClane • Ashley Farley
• Aubrey Wynne • Cailin Briste • Crystal Walton • Holly Cortelyou • Jacqueline Diamond
• Jacquie Biggar • Karen Michelle Nutt • Kerry Blaisdell • Kristine Smith • L. R. W. Lee •
Maria Geraci • Maureen Bonatch • Morgan K Wyatt • Nikki Lynn Barrett • Nina Crespo •
PG Forte • S.A. Larsen • Stephanie Queen • Taylor Marsh • Zoe Forward • Aileen
Harkwood
September 14, 2018
Bookfair!
The Fall Into Love Giveaway and Bookfair is open! This one is packed with so much fun, I can't stand it. FREE short stories, Scavenger Hunt, Bonus Giveaway, and DOZENS of great books at sale prices.
How can anyone resist this much romance-y goodness all in one place? Check it out, have fun, read lots of books. Boom. Weekend made.
https://bookwrapt.com/fall-into-love-romance-giveaway/
September 7, 2018
Birthday Bash!
No, it's not my birthday, but BookRhythm is certainly celebrating this month with a HUGE giveaway event from September 10th through the 24th. Almost 40 authors and two solid weeks of fun and prizes. I'll be giving away signed, print copies of Iron and Oak.
I think the covers turned out beautifully, by the way. I hope their winner(s) think so, too.
Anyway, to join in on all the fun, check out BookRhythm's event page on FB, where the fun will be happening:
https://www.facebook.com/events/691519081218389/
AND don't forget to check out their website where you can enter daily for your chance to win all sorts of fun prizes!
https://bookrhythm.com/birthday-bonanza-celebration/
Good luck! Have fun! And Happy Birthday BookRhythm!
I think the covers turned out beautifully, by the way. I hope their winner(s) think so, too.
Anyway, to join in on all the fun, check out BookRhythm's event page on FB, where the fun will be happening:
https://www.facebook.com/events/691519081218389/
AND don't forget to check out their website where you can enter daily for your chance to win all sorts of fun prizes!
https://bookrhythm.com/birthday-bonanza-celebration/
Good luck! Have fun! And Happy Birthday BookRhythm!
September 5, 2018
The Beach...in winter?
I know, I know. Sounds like I'm rushing through the seasons a little, doesn't it? I mean, September only just started, and I'm posting about winter already? Let me explain.
I just posted the first episode of Truth Or Dare (Games We Play, Season One) on Radish. So, of course, that's on my mind. And, what you might not know, is that one of the "seed ideas" for the series was a piece of flash fiction I wrote--quite a few years ago, now--titled The Beach in Winter. And that story had, as its starting point, two rather memorable events from my own teen years that, yes, occurred at the beach. In winter. 'Cause sometimes, as Freud might have said a cigar is, in fact, just a cigar.
So, even though it's barely fall here--and, on the California coast that means basically it's still summer, my thoughts are somewhere else. Or somewhen else, I guess I should say.
Having grown up in New Jersey, I naturally spent a lot of time going down the shore, as we say. I even lived there, for awhile (in Brick, if you want to be specific). And I still have friends and family who live there now. So, even though the Wild Geese Inn, where most of the action in the series takes place, had its genesis in a very real hotel, on a very different shore, when it came time to create my quaint, little beach town...well, I already had one of those in California, didn't I? So, I thought, why not go back and revisit my roots?
If I had to break it down, I'd say that Atlas Beach is about equal parts Lavallette and Cape May, with hints of Seaside, Point Pleasant and Asbury Park tossed in for good measure. I was actually shocked, when I went looking for a name, to discover that there wasn't already a Jersey Shore town called Atlas Beach. What. The. Fuck. So, yeah, I had to rectify that, for sure!
So far, we haven't seen very much of the town itself. Most of the action in the first three books (which are in the process of being re-released, and will be available exclusively on Radish, at this point) centers around my haunted hotel, The Wild Geese Inn. But I do have plans for more stories in the future. Kristy's brothers definitely need stories. They also need to be taken down a notch, IMO. I figure they each deserve a Jersey Girl (or maybe a Jersey Boy, I haven't quite decided yet) of their own to put them in their places. The DiLuca boys also have a family business that they're running, DiLuca's Bakery. I expect that will feature at least a little bit in their stories.
Anyway, I'm sure there are plenty of other characters--and locations--waiting for me to discover them in Atlas Beach, along with more ghosts, and perhaps a Jersey Devil...or even a mermaid.
Really, who knows, at this point? Anything is possible.
You can find the first couple of episodes HERE, and episode three releases tomorrow. Meanwhile, here's a sneak peek...
Out of the corner of her eye, Gwyn caught a flicker of
motion on the stairs. She ignored it, as she usually did, and went on with her
work. A moment later, a current of air seemed to rise from nowhere. Outside the
wind howled. A shadow passed across the wall. Cold air swirled around her for
an instant and then was gone. That was a little more worrisome. In general, the
ghosts only produced drafts when they were on the verge of manifesting
something unusual.
Gwyn sighed and shook her head. Perfect. Because “unusual”
was just what they didn’t need this weekend. Grams had always insisted the
ghosts only hung around because they wanted to help the family. Gwyn had yet to
be convinced.
Brenda could argue all she liked, but everyone knew the Wild Geese Inn was haunted. It was a big reason
they found it hard to keep people on staff. There were doors that opened or
closed by themselves, lights that flickered or burned out too fast, voices
whispering in the hallways when no one was in sight. The staff had already
presented her with a list of the rooms they refused to clean—a fact she’d been
careful to keep hidden from her cousin. It wasn’t like those rooms needed to be
dealt with very often anyway, unfortunately. When they did, Gwyn took care of
them herself. As a teenager, she’d worked as a maid here every summer. It was
like riding a bike.
A couple of minutes later, the hotel’s big double outer
doors slammed open, banging against the walls of the enclosed entryway. Gwyn
glanced up, annoyed. What in the hell were the haunts up to now?
She was surprised—and to be honest, more than a little
relieved—to see actual, corporeal people in the glassed-in entryway. Two men,
one wearing a long black overcoat and dress pants, the other in a navy peacoat
and jeans, were struggling against the wind to re-close the front doors. She
perked up at the thought of customers. Ghosts were fine, in their place, but
they didn’t pay the bills.
Having finally triumphed over the doors, the two men paused
to stomp the snow from their boots. Gwyn watched them appreciatively. She
couldn’t see their faces clearly through the fogged glass of the entryway
windows, but they were both tall—one more so than the other—and
athletic-looking, well worth ogling. Then they turned toward each other,
tenderly brushing stray snowflakes from each other’s shoulders and out of their
hair, and her heart melted. Her hand strayed to her throat, and she absently
fingered the gold and garnet triquetra pendant she always wore. The camaraderie
between the two men, their ease with one other, was obvious from clear across
the room. It touched her in ways she didn’t quite understand.
It had been years since she’d seen two men this comfortable
with each other, so at home. She didn’t even remember when the last time was.
Then the taller and fairer of the two men said something his dark-haired
companion found funny. He threw back his head in a laugh, and suddenly Gwyn
recalled exactly when she’d last witnessed something like this.
“Yeah, Weidman, stop
complaining. At least you have your hot girlfriend to keep you warm. Speaking
of which, I’mma think I have to borrow her. You up for sharing?”
“No way,” she whispered, horrified, as the blood drained
from her face so quickly she nearly passed out on the spot. “No fucking way. It
can’t be.”
Gwyn had never been one to hesitate in the face of disaster.
She jumped from her seat and grabbed the handle of the reception room door
without waiting to learn whether her suspicions about the men’s identities were
correct. Someone else could deal with this shit. Brenda, for example. Gwyn was
almost positive her cousin was here somewhere tonight. She’d track her down and
let her check them in. Or send them away? Oh yes. That would be even better.
Although that option might take some explaining.
The door had other ideas about her leaving. It refused to
open. No matter which way Gwyn turned the handle, the door didn’t budge. This
is not happening, she thought as she started to panic. Behind her, two sets of
footsteps crossed the lobby and stopped. She pushed at the door. Still nothing.
Damn it!
“Miss?” A familiar voice spoke up behind her. “Miss, can you
help us? Excuse me, miss?”
“Someone will be with you in a moment,” Gwyn said,
attempting to make her voice as impersonal as possible as she continued to pull
uselessly at the door.
A moment’s dead silence met her response. And then, “Gwyn? Is that you?”
Well, fuck.
Gwyn took a deep breath. You can do this, she told herself
firmly. Her “useless” Theatre Arts degree and the years she’d spent in amateur
productions had to be good for something.
“What can I help you gentlemen with?” she asked as she
turned around. Two familiar faces stared at her—as though she were the ghost.
Berke looked stricken. Cam’s mouth had dropped open. Gwyn
smiled blandly back at them. Please say
nothing. Please say you just got lost and need directions out of town. Please,
please, do the decent thing and leave.
“Gwyn, it’s us,” Berke said.
No shit? Her gaze
tracked blankly across their faces. “Is there something I can do for you?”
“Gwyn…” Berke said again in a heartrending tone that made
her want to break character and kick him. Preferably down a flight of stairs.
“We, uh, have a reservation,” said Cam, who’d finally
succeeded in getting his jaw back under control. Ooh. Give the boy a star.
“Oh yes? Well, let’s see now…” Gwyn glided back to the desk
and slid gracefully onto the stool. She’d never in her life been more grateful
to her Aunt Norah for having insisted all three of the cousins attend
deportment classes as children. She opened the reservation calendar and stared
sightlessly at her screen. “What name am I looking for?”
“It’s, uh, under Steiner?” Cam said.
Yes, of course it was.
Gwyn blinked furiously in an attempt not to frown. They’d been booked into the Captain’s
Room for three nights. Whoever took this reservation was so fired. And yes,
that was unfair and ridiculous and probably not even legal. She didn’t care.
What the fuck was she supposed to do for the next few days—hide? No. Screw
that. This was her home. They didn’t
get to come here and act surprised to see her.
Stupid bastards.
“I’ll need to see identification and a valid credit card.”
I just posted the first episode of Truth Or Dare (Games We Play, Season One) on Radish. So, of course, that's on my mind. And, what you might not know, is that one of the "seed ideas" for the series was a piece of flash fiction I wrote--quite a few years ago, now--titled The Beach in Winter. And that story had, as its starting point, two rather memorable events from my own teen years that, yes, occurred at the beach. In winter. 'Cause sometimes, as Freud might have said a cigar is, in fact, just a cigar.
So, even though it's barely fall here--and, on the California coast that means basically it's still summer, my thoughts are somewhere else. Or somewhen else, I guess I should say.
Having grown up in New Jersey, I naturally spent a lot of time going down the shore, as we say. I even lived there, for awhile (in Brick, if you want to be specific). And I still have friends and family who live there now. So, even though the Wild Geese Inn, where most of the action in the series takes place, had its genesis in a very real hotel, on a very different shore, when it came time to create my quaint, little beach town...well, I already had one of those in California, didn't I? So, I thought, why not go back and revisit my roots?
If I had to break it down, I'd say that Atlas Beach is about equal parts Lavallette and Cape May, with hints of Seaside, Point Pleasant and Asbury Park tossed in for good measure. I was actually shocked, when I went looking for a name, to discover that there wasn't already a Jersey Shore town called Atlas Beach. What. The. Fuck. So, yeah, I had to rectify that, for sure!
So far, we haven't seen very much of the town itself. Most of the action in the first three books (which are in the process of being re-released, and will be available exclusively on Radish, at this point) centers around my haunted hotel, The Wild Geese Inn. But I do have plans for more stories in the future. Kristy's brothers definitely need stories. They also need to be taken down a notch, IMO. I figure they each deserve a Jersey Girl (or maybe a Jersey Boy, I haven't quite decided yet) of their own to put them in their places. The DiLuca boys also have a family business that they're running, DiLuca's Bakery. I expect that will feature at least a little bit in their stories.
Anyway, I'm sure there are plenty of other characters--and locations--waiting for me to discover them in Atlas Beach, along with more ghosts, and perhaps a Jersey Devil...or even a mermaid.
Really, who knows, at this point? Anything is possible.
You can find the first couple of episodes HERE, and episode three releases tomorrow. Meanwhile, here's a sneak peek...
Out of the corner of her eye, Gwyn caught a flicker of
motion on the stairs. She ignored it, as she usually did, and went on with her
work. A moment later, a current of air seemed to rise from nowhere. Outside the
wind howled. A shadow passed across the wall. Cold air swirled around her for
an instant and then was gone. That was a little more worrisome. In general, the
ghosts only produced drafts when they were on the verge of manifesting
something unusual.
Gwyn sighed and shook her head. Perfect. Because “unusual”
was just what they didn’t need this weekend. Grams had always insisted the
ghosts only hung around because they wanted to help the family. Gwyn had yet to
be convinced.
Brenda could argue all she liked, but everyone knew the Wild Geese Inn was haunted. It was a big reason
they found it hard to keep people on staff. There were doors that opened or
closed by themselves, lights that flickered or burned out too fast, voices
whispering in the hallways when no one was in sight. The staff had already
presented her with a list of the rooms they refused to clean—a fact she’d been
careful to keep hidden from her cousin. It wasn’t like those rooms needed to be
dealt with very often anyway, unfortunately. When they did, Gwyn took care of
them herself. As a teenager, she’d worked as a maid here every summer. It was
like riding a bike.
A couple of minutes later, the hotel’s big double outer
doors slammed open, banging against the walls of the enclosed entryway. Gwyn
glanced up, annoyed. What in the hell were the haunts up to now?
She was surprised—and to be honest, more than a little
relieved—to see actual, corporeal people in the glassed-in entryway. Two men,
one wearing a long black overcoat and dress pants, the other in a navy peacoat
and jeans, were struggling against the wind to re-close the front doors. She
perked up at the thought of customers. Ghosts were fine, in their place, but
they didn’t pay the bills.
Having finally triumphed over the doors, the two men paused
to stomp the snow from their boots. Gwyn watched them appreciatively. She
couldn’t see their faces clearly through the fogged glass of the entryway
windows, but they were both tall—one more so than the other—and
athletic-looking, well worth ogling. Then they turned toward each other,
tenderly brushing stray snowflakes from each other’s shoulders and out of their
hair, and her heart melted. Her hand strayed to her throat, and she absently
fingered the gold and garnet triquetra pendant she always wore. The camaraderie
between the two men, their ease with one other, was obvious from clear across
the room. It touched her in ways she didn’t quite understand.
It had been years since she’d seen two men this comfortable
with each other, so at home. She didn’t even remember when the last time was.
Then the taller and fairer of the two men said something his dark-haired
companion found funny. He threw back his head in a laugh, and suddenly Gwyn
recalled exactly when she’d last witnessed something like this.
“Yeah, Weidman, stop
complaining. At least you have your hot girlfriend to keep you warm. Speaking
of which, I’mma think I have to borrow her. You up for sharing?”
“No way,” she whispered, horrified, as the blood drained
from her face so quickly she nearly passed out on the spot. “No fucking way. It
can’t be.”
Gwyn had never been one to hesitate in the face of disaster.
She jumped from her seat and grabbed the handle of the reception room door
without waiting to learn whether her suspicions about the men’s identities were
correct. Someone else could deal with this shit. Brenda, for example. Gwyn was
almost positive her cousin was here somewhere tonight. She’d track her down and
let her check them in. Or send them away? Oh yes. That would be even better.
Although that option might take some explaining.
The door had other ideas about her leaving. It refused to
open. No matter which way Gwyn turned the handle, the door didn’t budge. This
is not happening, she thought as she started to panic. Behind her, two sets of
footsteps crossed the lobby and stopped. She pushed at the door. Still nothing.
Damn it!
“Miss?” A familiar voice spoke up behind her. “Miss, can you
help us? Excuse me, miss?”
“Someone will be with you in a moment,” Gwyn said,
attempting to make her voice as impersonal as possible as she continued to pull
uselessly at the door.
A moment’s dead silence met her response. And then, “Gwyn? Is that you?”
Well, fuck.
Gwyn took a deep breath. You can do this, she told herself
firmly. Her “useless” Theatre Arts degree and the years she’d spent in amateur
productions had to be good for something.
“What can I help you gentlemen with?” she asked as she
turned around. Two familiar faces stared at her—as though she were the ghost.
Berke looked stricken. Cam’s mouth had dropped open. Gwyn
smiled blandly back at them. Please say
nothing. Please say you just got lost and need directions out of town. Please,
please, do the decent thing and leave.
“Gwyn, it’s us,” Berke said.
No shit? Her gaze
tracked blankly across their faces. “Is there something I can do for you?”
“Gwyn…” Berke said again in a heartrending tone that made
her want to break character and kick him. Preferably down a flight of stairs.
“We, uh, have a reservation,” said Cam, who’d finally
succeeded in getting his jaw back under control. Ooh. Give the boy a star.
“Oh yes? Well, let’s see now…” Gwyn glided back to the desk
and slid gracefully onto the stool. She’d never in her life been more grateful
to her Aunt Norah for having insisted all three of the cousins attend
deportment classes as children. She opened the reservation calendar and stared
sightlessly at her screen. “What name am I looking for?”
“It’s, uh, under Steiner?” Cam said.
Yes, of course it was.
Gwyn blinked furiously in an attempt not to frown. They’d been booked into the Captain’s
Room for three nights. Whoever took this reservation was so fired. And yes,
that was unfair and ridiculous and probably not even legal. She didn’t care.
What the fuck was she supposed to do for the next few days—hide? No. Screw
that. This was her home. They didn’t
get to come here and act surprised to see her.
Stupid bastards.
“I’ll need to see identification and a valid credit card.”
August 31, 2018
Summer's not over yet...
Just in time for Labor Day! I've released Waiting For The Big One, the first book in my LA Love Lessons trilogy on Radish, the serial fiction platform. If you like your fiction in bite-size pieces, this is the place for you!
It's been a lot of fun re-writing it to fit the serial model. What was weird, however, was creating a new cover WITHOUT ANY TEXT! I'm a writer. I want to use my words. lol But I have to admit, I think it did turn out pretty nicely. It looks like a movie poster, doesn't it? Although, again, WITHOUT A TITLE. Argggh!
In any case, I'm making this particular series available through Radish's "Freemium" pricing model, which means that if you don't mind waiting an additional week for each episode to "unlock", you can read the entire book for free. Of course, if you REALLY hate to wait--something my heroine, Gabby, would totally understand--you could just pick up the whole book right now at any of the usual vendors. But where's the fun in that? :)
Depending on how things go, I'm also looking to re-release Games We Play, Oberon, and possibly the Inked in OakTown series on Radish as well. And, as of right now, I'm planning to make those series exclusive to Radish. Tell me what you think in the comments below!
You can follow me on Radish for updates: https://radishfiction.com/users/pgforte
I'm also hoping to revive my newsletter next month. We'll see how that goes. September is a big travel month. Again. If you want to subscribe the link can be found here: http://www.pgforte.com/newsletter.htm
In the meantime, in case you haven't read Waiting For The Big One (or, if you have, but it's been awhile) here's an excerpt:
It was one
of those perfect mornings, the kind that only ever seems to happen on a Sunday.
You know the ones I mean, don’t you? Just before noon, all lazy and warm.
The city
of Los Angeles was steeped in sunshine, snuggled about as deep into the weekend
as it could get. It seemed like everyone was laid back and happy, except for me
and the dozens of other drivers who were trying to move west along Hollywood
Blvd, headed toward Fairfax, going nowhere fast.
They’ll
tell you Pisces is a patient sign, but you can’t really label the fish. We’re
complex people. We combine the best and worst of all the other signs. And the
truth is, I hate to wait.
So, there
I was, stuck at yet another red light, when it hit me. It wasn’t just me who
was waiting and it wasn’t just now. All of Los Angeles was in the same boat,
all of us, all the time, waiting for the big one.
For most
of us, that means our big break, our shot at seeing our name in a star on the
Walk of Fame. It’s the role that’ll lift us out of obscurity. It’s the hit
that’ll soar to the top of the charts. We’re all hopeful romantics--like
Kathleen Turner, in Romancing the Stone. We’re always certain it’ll
happen with the next deal we make, the next audition we go out on, the next
person we meet.
Take me,
for instance. Any day now, with just a little bit of luck, I could go from
being plain old Gabby Browne, aspiring actress and dog walker, to Academy Award
Winner, Gabriella Giacomo.
And if
fame doesn’t get us, no doubt the earthquake will. That’s the other thing
everybody’s waiting for, the big eight point, nine point, ten point shaker that
scientists say is bound to occur. The one that’ll rock this town to its knees.
Even hopeful romantics have to admit it seems inevitable. How could any place
with this much surface glamour not be doomed?
But this
morning, I was waiting for something a little more personal. I was waiting for
The Big O: the elusive, G-spot, ultra orgasm, the kind I’d heard about, read
about, yearned for, but had not yet experienced.
Don’t get
me wrong, it’s not as if I’d never had an orgasm or anything. But, to date,
they’d all been the standard issue, plain vanilla kind. Nice, but nothing I
couldn’t give myself any day of the week if I wanted. What I was hoping for was
something more life-altering, soul-searing, rock-my-world passion. I knew it
was out there, waiting for me. All I needed was the right guy to help me find
it.
I knew he
was out there, too. He was my Twin Flame, my Split Apart, my Tantric Soul mate;
the man who would love me madly, passionately, loudly. All night long. They say
good things come to those who wait, and I was certainly counting on that being
true, but he was taking a long time to get here, and I was growing impatient.
Finally,
the light turned green and I made it to where I was trying to get—The
Body Electric—for my first workout of the week, and definitely my favorite.
Power Yoga
with Derek Novello was never an easy class, but with Derek calling the shots,
getting whipped into shape was almost a pleasure. I hurried up the walkway
toward the two-story Hollywood Deco building, smiling in anticipation, enjoying
the trickle of the fountain in the courtyard, the tinkle of the wind chimes in
the topiary, the sweet scent of sandalwood.
“You’re
late,” a voice growled the minute I set foot inside the deserted anteroom.
I froze
for an instant, heart pounding in my chest, as I recognized Derek’s
dark-chocolate voice. Then I turned, making one of those slow, graceful pivots
I’d been practicing.
Derek has
the kind of chiseled features the camera loves. Even now, with his thick, black
brows drawn into a frown that had them almost meeting over the bridge of his
classically perfect nose, his face was sensual, expressive, intense.
He was
looking yummier than ever today, with his
two-hundred-push-ups-every-morning-before-breakfast arms folded across a tight
black tank, putting all those lovely muscles on an in-your-face display. The
black workout pants he wore, on the other hand, were disappointingly loose, at
least in front. But experience had taught me that when he turned around...ooh,
baby. They’d likely mold to his glutes in a way that would make my own pants
grow damp.
Was I in a
rush for him to turn around? Uh-uh. ‘Cause he’s also got the fiercest brown
eyes, the most delicious looking lips and, oh, I thought with a tinge of
sadness, if only we weren’t friends.
“Traffic,”
I explained, trying to rein in my runaway lust, trying to resist the urge to
run my fingers through the dark waves of his short hair. I’d always made it a
policy never to mix sex and friendship. It was something Derek knew full well,
though he continued to tempt me. “You wouldn’t believe all the cars on the road
today.”
“So?
There’s always traffic, that’s no excuse. Besides, you only live twelve blocks
away. You jog, you hike, you exercise—give me a break, Gabe. Are you really
going to tell me you couldn’t walk that far? You could get here on time if you
wanted to.”
I sighed,
feeling even more regretful. The truth is he looks even sexier when he gets
worked up, and since he’s a Scorpio, that happens a lot. “Don’t be silly,
Derek. This is LA—no one walks here.”
Derek
rolled his eyes. “Go get dressed.”
Sexy or
not, I hate it when anyone’s annoyed with me. It’s a Pisces thing. We want
everyone to be happy. Luckily, I knew just how to make Derek’s day.
“I’m
sorry, Sensei,” I murmured in my breathiest, most contrite sounding voice. I
dropped my chin, laced my fingers together, and peeked up at him adoringly,
like the blondest damned geisha you’ve ever seen. “Won’t you please forgive me?
I promise it’ll never happen again.”
A muscle
twitched at the corner of Derek’s mouth, showing me how hard he was trying not
to smile. “It better not. You know the rules. Don’t expect me to make
exceptions for you just because we’re friends.”
Well, that
was ridiculous. Scorpios always make exceptions for their friends.
That’s still the best way to tell when they’ve written you off. But as I bit my
lip and took a step closer, I knew that wasn’t the case with us—yet. There was
a hot, hungry look in Derek’s eyes, though he was still pretending to be
indifferent to my act. ‘Course that all went to hell in an eye-popping,
jaw-dropping hurry when I flashed him the twins.
“Damn,” he
muttered, blinking appreciatively as I tugged my top back into place. I gave
him a wink, then turned on my heel, and marched off toward the lockers.
“You still
have a few minutes before class starts, Der,” I called over my shoulder. “You
might want to use the time to rearrange that package of yours. It’s bulging.”
WAITING FOR THE BIG ONE is available at Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo and NOW on Radish! This title is also available as an audiobook through Audible
It's been a lot of fun re-writing it to fit the serial model. What was weird, however, was creating a new cover WITHOUT ANY TEXT! I'm a writer. I want to use my words. lol But I have to admit, I think it did turn out pretty nicely. It looks like a movie poster, doesn't it? Although, again, WITHOUT A TITLE. Argggh!
In any case, I'm making this particular series available through Radish's "Freemium" pricing model, which means that if you don't mind waiting an additional week for each episode to "unlock", you can read the entire book for free. Of course, if you REALLY hate to wait--something my heroine, Gabby, would totally understand--you could just pick up the whole book right now at any of the usual vendors. But where's the fun in that? :)
Depending on how things go, I'm also looking to re-release Games We Play, Oberon, and possibly the Inked in OakTown series on Radish as well. And, as of right now, I'm planning to make those series exclusive to Radish. Tell me what you think in the comments below!
You can follow me on Radish for updates: https://radishfiction.com/users/pgforte
I'm also hoping to revive my newsletter next month. We'll see how that goes. September is a big travel month. Again. If you want to subscribe the link can be found here: http://www.pgforte.com/newsletter.htm
In the meantime, in case you haven't read Waiting For The Big One (or, if you have, but it's been awhile) here's an excerpt:
It was one
of those perfect mornings, the kind that only ever seems to happen on a Sunday.
You know the ones I mean, don’t you? Just before noon, all lazy and warm.
The city
of Los Angeles was steeped in sunshine, snuggled about as deep into the weekend
as it could get. It seemed like everyone was laid back and happy, except for me
and the dozens of other drivers who were trying to move west along Hollywood
Blvd, headed toward Fairfax, going nowhere fast.
They’ll
tell you Pisces is a patient sign, but you can’t really label the fish. We’re
complex people. We combine the best and worst of all the other signs. And the
truth is, I hate to wait.
So, there
I was, stuck at yet another red light, when it hit me. It wasn’t just me who
was waiting and it wasn’t just now. All of Los Angeles was in the same boat,
all of us, all the time, waiting for the big one.
For most
of us, that means our big break, our shot at seeing our name in a star on the
Walk of Fame. It’s the role that’ll lift us out of obscurity. It’s the hit
that’ll soar to the top of the charts. We’re all hopeful romantics--like
Kathleen Turner, in Romancing the Stone. We’re always certain it’ll
happen with the next deal we make, the next audition we go out on, the next
person we meet.
Take me,
for instance. Any day now, with just a little bit of luck, I could go from
being plain old Gabby Browne, aspiring actress and dog walker, to Academy Award
Winner, Gabriella Giacomo.
And if
fame doesn’t get us, no doubt the earthquake will. That’s the other thing
everybody’s waiting for, the big eight point, nine point, ten point shaker that
scientists say is bound to occur. The one that’ll rock this town to its knees.
Even hopeful romantics have to admit it seems inevitable. How could any place
with this much surface glamour not be doomed?
But this
morning, I was waiting for something a little more personal. I was waiting for
The Big O: the elusive, G-spot, ultra orgasm, the kind I’d heard about, read
about, yearned for, but had not yet experienced.
Don’t get
me wrong, it’s not as if I’d never had an orgasm or anything. But, to date,
they’d all been the standard issue, plain vanilla kind. Nice, but nothing I
couldn’t give myself any day of the week if I wanted. What I was hoping for was
something more life-altering, soul-searing, rock-my-world passion. I knew it
was out there, waiting for me. All I needed was the right guy to help me find
it.
I knew he
was out there, too. He was my Twin Flame, my Split Apart, my Tantric Soul mate;
the man who would love me madly, passionately, loudly. All night long. They say
good things come to those who wait, and I was certainly counting on that being
true, but he was taking a long time to get here, and I was growing impatient.
Finally,
the light turned green and I made it to where I was trying to get—The
Body Electric—for my first workout of the week, and definitely my favorite.
Power Yoga
with Derek Novello was never an easy class, but with Derek calling the shots,
getting whipped into shape was almost a pleasure. I hurried up the walkway
toward the two-story Hollywood Deco building, smiling in anticipation, enjoying
the trickle of the fountain in the courtyard, the tinkle of the wind chimes in
the topiary, the sweet scent of sandalwood.
“You’re
late,” a voice growled the minute I set foot inside the deserted anteroom.
I froze
for an instant, heart pounding in my chest, as I recognized Derek’s
dark-chocolate voice. Then I turned, making one of those slow, graceful pivots
I’d been practicing.
Derek has
the kind of chiseled features the camera loves. Even now, with his thick, black
brows drawn into a frown that had them almost meeting over the bridge of his
classically perfect nose, his face was sensual, expressive, intense.
He was
looking yummier than ever today, with his
two-hundred-push-ups-every-morning-before-breakfast arms folded across a tight
black tank, putting all those lovely muscles on an in-your-face display. The
black workout pants he wore, on the other hand, were disappointingly loose, at
least in front. But experience had taught me that when he turned around...ooh,
baby. They’d likely mold to his glutes in a way that would make my own pants
grow damp.
Was I in a
rush for him to turn around? Uh-uh. ‘Cause he’s also got the fiercest brown
eyes, the most delicious looking lips and, oh, I thought with a tinge of
sadness, if only we weren’t friends.
“Traffic,”
I explained, trying to rein in my runaway lust, trying to resist the urge to
run my fingers through the dark waves of his short hair. I’d always made it a
policy never to mix sex and friendship. It was something Derek knew full well,
though he continued to tempt me. “You wouldn’t believe all the cars on the road
today.”
“So?
There’s always traffic, that’s no excuse. Besides, you only live twelve blocks
away. You jog, you hike, you exercise—give me a break, Gabe. Are you really
going to tell me you couldn’t walk that far? You could get here on time if you
wanted to.”
I sighed,
feeling even more regretful. The truth is he looks even sexier when he gets
worked up, and since he’s a Scorpio, that happens a lot. “Don’t be silly,
Derek. This is LA—no one walks here.”
Derek
rolled his eyes. “Go get dressed.”
Sexy or
not, I hate it when anyone’s annoyed with me. It’s a Pisces thing. We want
everyone to be happy. Luckily, I knew just how to make Derek’s day.
“I’m
sorry, Sensei,” I murmured in my breathiest, most contrite sounding voice. I
dropped my chin, laced my fingers together, and peeked up at him adoringly,
like the blondest damned geisha you’ve ever seen. “Won’t you please forgive me?
I promise it’ll never happen again.”
A muscle
twitched at the corner of Derek’s mouth, showing me how hard he was trying not
to smile. “It better not. You know the rules. Don’t expect me to make
exceptions for you just because we’re friends.”
Well, that
was ridiculous. Scorpios always make exceptions for their friends.
That’s still the best way to tell when they’ve written you off. But as I bit my
lip and took a step closer, I knew that wasn’t the case with us—yet. There was
a hot, hungry look in Derek’s eyes, though he was still pretending to be
indifferent to my act. ‘Course that all went to hell in an eye-popping,
jaw-dropping hurry when I flashed him the twins.
“Damn,” he
muttered, blinking appreciatively as I tugged my top back into place. I gave
him a wink, then turned on my heel, and marched off toward the lockers.
“You still
have a few minutes before class starts, Der,” I called over my shoulder. “You
might want to use the time to rearrange that package of yours. It’s bulging.”
WAITING FOR THE BIG ONE is available at Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo and NOW on Radish! This title is also available as an audiobook through Audible
