Winnie Winkle's Blog, page 4

B4R Bookstore features Winnie Winkle, and other news

I’ve discovered a new book retailer, and am excited to announce that B4R Bookstore now features Winnie Winkle. I’ve got a special deal for you to take advantage of, if you are looking to save a few bucks.

I’ve listed my entire catalog of books on B4R, and you can purchase both paperbacks and ebooks there. Even better, if you purchase on of my paperbacks at B4R, you’ll receive a signed copy! Plus, you can use this coupon to save!

As part of my onboarding with B4R, I’ve put Boogie Beach into the Humor category of their Read and Review program, which is a great way to read a free book! Here’s how it works. Check it out.

Patience in problem solving matters, and patience in writing, even to looming deadline boosts the quality of the craft.

My last blog post chronicled the start of a sweeping road trip, and after 2020, we were READY. The first week unfolded, Alabama, Memphis, Hot Springs, Memphis again, because it was so much fun, then Port Washington, WI, Milwaukee, and…

Elsa showed up.

We live on a boat. In Florida. Which is nowhere near Wisconsin, I don’t care how many delicious Spotted Cow beers you drink. And boats, in hurricanes, need to be tied correctly.

Patience left the building. For me, the highlight of the trip was about to happen, because the next stop was to visit my family in northern Illinois. I’ve missed them so much; in my mind I was already there. Elsa churned and we discussed, skirting the rare argument, and decided to drive on, get to farm, and then he’d fly home, tie a bunch of lines and wait for the storm to decide where it’s going to land.

I grew up in the Midwest. Public transportation, be it busses or trains, aren’t a big deal. To a native Floridian, the idea of riding a bus to Chicago and flying out of a packed O’Hare airport was a low appeal solution. I can only assume he pictured an old ratty Greyhound with nasty seats. But he loves me, so he agreed to do it.

Van Galder Bus is a decent company, and I kissed him by the steps of a nice coach bus and sent him to the Windy City. I retreated to the family, wrote to meet my deadline for Speedo Down. (Be sure to check out the cover, it’s a corker!) Editing like it’s an olympic sport, I delivered it to my editor on time, and flopped, exhausted, into the truck for the long ride home. We stopped in Murfreesboro, and made good time on the second leg. Falling into our bed on the boat was sweet indeed.

Patience helped us remain loving in disagreement, and helped Speedo Down take shape into a funny, fast paced read. Remember, Salt Shaken is available on Pre-order now, and releases on July 21, 2021. I’ll add the B4R link as soon as it’s live!

One last thing, if you aren’t on my newsletter, sign up! I’m working hard to put together some special deals on books, and subscribers are the first to know.

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On the Road and in the World

Last Saturday we hit the road to eat good southern BBQ. explore, and check a few work related boxes.

First stop was Alabama, to visit with striking mine workers; it was an eye opening experience. Their strike is based around how, when the mining company faced bankruptcy, the miners and other mine workers stepped up, took big pay cuts, gave up holiday pay, health care, and worked longer hours with no overtime pay. Their sacrifice worked and the company pulled back from the brink. Saving the company saved all the jobs, of course, but once the cash started flowing, the company didn’t take care of its employees, returning the wages and benefits, instead pocketing hundreds of millions, and paying the management huge bonuses. One worker shared that a low tier manager received $30,000.

I learned a lot, and hold a great deal of respect for these striking men and women. We also visited the memorial for the 13 miners killed in and explosion and collapse.

Our next stop was Memphis and the ribs, oh, my goodness, those ribs. Add a smokin’ hot 6 piece band with a horn section, and it was a high flavor night.

Blues City Cafe in Memphis

Then we scooted south to Hot Springs, Arkansas, where I’m writing this morning, fresh off a wonderful retirement party filled with dedicated labor state presidents from all across the south. Hard working, politically astute, it was an interesting night of conversation and camaraderie. Today, we hit the Rib Cage, a permanent food truck parked less than a mile from the hotel. They open at 11 and sell out fast, so fingers crossed we hit the road to eat good southern BBQ on time. This afternoon we head back to Memphis, and hopefully another night of fantastic music.

We’ve got more states to visit, and more Q to chew. See you next post!

Happy Summer Reading!

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Riding Storms and Other Musings

Writing books has flow and meaning.

Lightning shivers my timbers, literally, since I live on a boat, in Florida, the lightning capital of the world. Storms, big ones, are a great way to disengage your ego and relax into your role as part of a greater whole. Once the big flashy stuff passes, the healing rain falls, the world slips into peace, and for the greenery gasping from the heat, rebirth.

Writing is often a mirror of a thunderstorm. A grand idea, building and knocking the words around, gives way to a softer editing, a chance to soak in the sensory, savor the expansion in scenes to make them jump off the page. In creativity, the lightning and thunder carve the bones of a book, but the rain, the gentle filling of spaces, give the book meaning and value.

In the aftermath of the launch for Boogie Beach, I’m letting the storm drive Book 3, and resting in the rain. Stay well, create big.

Boogie beach is on Amazon, Apple, and other retailers.

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Summer Celebration Countdown to Launch: Boogie Beach in 5…4…3..

I can’t believe it’s 5 days until the Boogie Beach launch on June 21st. The world slips from one season to the next it’s time to celebrate summer with the ultimate beach read! (click here for ordering options)

Today I uploaded Salt Shaken, Book 2 in this series for pre-order, and that cover reveal is coming soon! I’ll also be updating that page with an excerpt and the back cover bits. Melody Simmons makes beautiful covers, and I’m grateful for our collaboration over the past few years.

As I’ve published more, I’ve learned a lot, but like most things worth investing time to master, taking some classes helps. I got lucky and found Narelle Todd and her Signature Get My Book Out There solutions, and my three launches this summer are starting from an entirely new position of knowledge and marketing strength.

It changed my game. If you are ready to build your brand, check them out.

Bringing Boogie Beach down the final stretch to launch was a ton of fun, and by far the most organized launch I’ve executed, thanks to Narelle. Hello, summer, and hello snarky beach reads!

Let’s do this.

Let’s Boogie!

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Family Time and Finding Balance

My Sweet Man’s grandson’s are here, and we’re afloat in the seas of family time and finding balance. Book launches, specifically Boogie Beach for me, and heavy lifting at work for him means this stolen weekend with these young men is a gratifying and needed break.

Balance isn’t about measures, it’s not a fifty percent game. Balance is about knowing when to cut it, take that break, instill the quiet, or eat the cake. It’s about choosing to experience right.this.minute.

I’m taking a weekend. You should too.

https://wwinkle.com/to-walk-in-the-world/

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Screw Ups and Fixes: Newsletter Sign-ups

Tales of screw ups and fixes: Newsletter sign-ups edition. LE SIGH.

Yesterday, while working on screw ups and fixes on this site, the fabulous Word Press support person let me know my newsletter sign-ups landed on a null page.

First and most important, I apologize. If you visited and signed-up, I never received it. It’s now working properly, so please try again. The newsletter is full of Winnie stuff, humor, and highlights of new authors or interesting reads.

As a small token, here’s a snippet from Boogie Beach:

The partition between my human and extraordinary bars was transparent, and Chelsea jerked her head toward it. Ballard was in the human bar; time to see if that’s business or pleasure. I scanned, drinks were full and heads together, so I opened the wood door and trotted into the restaurant. Chelsea often volunteered to watch the house for me when I had to go play manager on the real side, and for the most part she didn’t give away the booze, which rocked. She did it with the intention of benefiting magicals, but hey, it helped.

“Ballard, what brings you to The Boogie?” Tall, hard-bodied, and yum, we have a thing, but he was a cop, so we didn’t advertise. 

“Looking for somebody, Patra. Have you ever seen this guy?”

He’s one of my werewolves, and it’s odd he’s not in my bar tonight, but easier, because while I had to dissemble with Ballard often, I didn’t enjoy lying to him. Lying with him, now, was an earthquake I was down for on the regular.

“Not here tonight, but he looks familiar.” I gave Ballard a bone here because he’d never find this guy. Most werewolves were rich as shit, and when they got their moon on were unrecognizable. Plus, wolf shifters were pros. After centuries of evading inconvenient humans, they’re bored. All they wanted was to locate their mates and do their thing. The one Ballard’s looking for was mateless, that’s why I’m surprised he wasn’t next door. It’s possible fate tossed him his lucky number. 

Daytona’s former mayor was a werewolf. The better description was that a werewolf was elected mayor, at least until Bike Week fell on the full moon and the event went cartwheeling to hell. A PR nightmare ensued, Mayor Wolfie lost the next election, and pearls, the kind humans didn’t shove up their butts, were clutched. Amusing to those in the know, but when you had a dead girl, four deceased bikers, and a sated wolf, it put a damper on the party.

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Morning Musings: Writing, Coffee, and Oddities

Coffee and I go way back. Spending an early morning musing over life’s oddities is an integral part of accepting another crack, in the form of a sunrise, at life. In taking a pause before the day grows hectic, I get a smidge of time for myself and that micro centering sets me up to tackle whatever busyness the world deems important. Often, what I believe matters is tangentially different.

I exited the corporate world with little fanfare in 2017 and decided to write a book. I finished one, a feat in itself, and let that grammatical hot mess live in the cloud. What grew clear from that experiment was that I was an author. So I made a great alliance with a successful author, S.E. Smith, and she gave me an opportunity to write into her world, learn about indie publishing, and far more important, hone my craft by publishing actual books. The sprint was on and five books found a life in 14 months. Exhilarated and exhausted, I took a musing break, in the form of many cups of coffee on my balcony, and parsed my life going forward.

Welcome to Boogie Beach. Humorous fantasy wasn’t what I set out to write, but damn if I can’t do it well. I love this series, and it’s going to fly, I can feel it. Check out you next favorite funny fantasy, Florida style, here on Amazon, and here everywhere else.

As for that first book, I returned to my roots, pulled it apart and rewrote the entire thing. After all, six books later I’d learned a thing or six, and sent out to the Universe. To Walk in the World is a thing of beauty and it’s here on Amazon, and here everywhere else.

Smith paved the way to open opportunities for other authors as well, and three released on June 8th. Talent abounds in her world, so enjoy these fun romantic reads. Buying info here.

I’m grateful for the twists and turns of the past four years. As unreal as it sounds, my ninth book releases this August, and who knows, I might pen one for Magic New Mexico for a November release. We’ll see how the creative writing musings flow, along with the coffee and oddities.

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I Did a Thing! Check out the All Books tab!

Like anything else, over time what seemed like a great idea doesn’t age well… which is how my new All Books tab came to be.

I wanted a place to showcase all my books, and while readers who are drawn to specific genres like the ability to narrow down what they seek, some visitors want it all in one place. Thus, the All Books tab. Click a book cover and you’ll go straight to that page. I’m excited, with all the launches coming this summer, to have a better structure. Housekeeping helps.

Watch for Boogie Beach, 6/21, Salt Shaken, 7/21, and Speedo Down, 8/16.

If you haven’t checked out To Walk in the World please do. My emails are full of love for this tale of renewal.

I’ve been accepted as an attending author at Books at the Beach in Clearwater. October 21-24, 2021. Mark your calendars, it sounds like an amazing event with tons of reader activities and the author list is impressive. It’s an honor to be included with this amazing roster. Tickets are here.

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Marketing is Hard, and Other Things to Wine About

Self publishing, then marketing, is hard. The learning curve, in my case, requires wine, grousing, and an occasional frustrated stomp to the kitchen for nibbles. Mastering new skills, especially learning marketing on platforms that constantly change, is definitely on my list of things to wine about.

That said, the best thing about wine… is friends! When the authory stuff gets a little nuts, I take a break from the checklist, and share a glass with a good friend. It helps.

Also in my happy column is that Boogie Beach is up for preorders and moving well. Get yours here.

I’m also excited how Book 3 of that series is shaping up. I’ll be doing a cover release of Book 2, Salt Shaken, soon!

Are you a member of Winnie’s Winkles? Follow me on Facebook and come visit the group. We think we’re pretty punny, and tbh, we’re not wrong.

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Boogie Beach Preorder for Paperbacks is on the way!

Boogie Beach, Book 1 in a new Funny Fantasy series is available for preorder in paperback. Jennie of jenniereads.com says, “A humorous fresh read taking fantasy to the next level.  Greek god in a speedo, witches with snark, pelican shapeshifters and at the center is Patra just trying to manage two bars and stay alive as Keeper. A fun read that kept me wanting more!”

Visit Amazon here.

Here’s an Excerpt!

The tide formed the familiar cross-hatch patterns, signaling a rip current to everyone, well, everybody but me. I knew better, but wished I wasn’t the sole human with this grand understanding. Most of the time seeing both sides had its perks, but when it didn’t… let’s go with Suckfest-9000.

The swells resembled ordinary waves nearing their crest, tops churning to a white froth, so I hung out on the tall pier, holding the space over the sand, watching a full, gorgeous moonrise over a close to high tide. 

Perfect. 

Moon shifts, both the full and the new, were the busiest and often the best nights, but it’s October, so I wasn’t taking any bets. The black waves grew shoulders, then bodies, and my guests moved onto shore, covered by the shadows of the pier. Faint pops, depending on their magic, sent them into my pub, while others took wing or climbed the steps; I continued to greet the arrivals for the other side of my business.

I owned and managed the Sun Dance Pier. Locals called it “The Boogie” but on the license it’s ‘Boogie Beach Crab Shack.’ At sixteen, I started waiting tables, then moved to the bar. Now, I was way past that, but I looked hot and saw the whole situation, so I’ve been the owner/manager for the last ten years. People with the sight, the true sight, were hard to find. To be fair, I could have made a good living in Cassadaga, a town an hour away that catered to psychics and healers, the edge eyes and the full seers, but I enjoyed the sea, even the darker sides, so I played this hand. The longevity wasn’t promising, the last manager didn’t make it to fifty-five, but who knew. Well, somebody in Cassadaga did, but I didn’t plan to ask.

Heavy steps struck the pier, announcing Poseidon, who sported a long white-blond mane, a speedo, and my resultant inner wince. God complex, personified. Why he wouldn’t wear board shorts was beyond me. 

“Patra! Still seeking Cleo?” His roar of laughter foretold of a lengthy night of mismanaged alchemy. 

“Welcome back, Sea King, looking for your usual?”

“Indeed I am, and a side of beauties,” his wink made me smile. 

“Just because we painted the town before doesn’t mean I’m on the menu tonight, but several merwomen are here. Go charm them; they’re in the mood to party.”

“On it.” With a squelch he walked toward the door and it shimmered, letting him access the magic pub. 

I suppose the backstory would help. Boogie Beach was the lost soul of Florida’s beaches. Decent surf without the draw of Daytona, although we got their overflow, nor the intellectual panache of Cocoa and the Space Coast. Boogie, or Boogey as my magical patrons called it, had the distinction of being on, as in right the exact hell ON, the line between reality and extraordinary. I ran a pub on the doorway to everything. Shifters, witches, merpeople, the Greek contingent, you name it. If it drank, it showed up and I could see it. That’s my entire skill set. Finite. I couldn’t magic my way out of a tough spot. Wits and crossed fingers were my complete arsenal. For the most part, it’s an honor to be seen as belonging to both worlds, but magic was both light and dark. Someday, I’ll run into the wrong entity, and that’ll be it. In a nutshell, that’s why I didn’t have a kid. It’s not a risk I’d run, because darkness seized opportunities, had no boundaries, or gave any fucks, flying or otherwise. The sight was mutual; I saw them, they saw me. Ergo, running this life solo. Fewer people got hurt and I’m screwed no matter what. 

C’est la vie.

 “Patra! Ever find Cleo?” Pook’s giggle lapsed into a snort.

“Jeez, Pook, you need new material,” Bingo flapped his wings and leaned his beak forward to touch my cheek in what passed for a pelican kiss. 

“Are you joining us tonight?” I grinned, winking at Bingo.

Pook and Bingo were pelican shifters, and often stayed past closing’s edge, therefore stuck in the real world until the next new or full moon. Beach bums at heart, they rolled in both spaces with ease, just letting things flow. 

“Hoo-man, we can’t miss October, Patra. It’s the frigging best!” Pook flapped and shifted into a scruffy longhair with a missing tooth. 

Bingo jumped from the railing, shifting into a tall skinny guy with a growing pot belly. I gave him a look.

“Are there fish left in the sea? I’d guess you’re not missing many.”

“This?” Long thin fingers patted his protruding gut. “Your beer. Fish is clean eating, Patra.”

The pair walked along the dock and the door shimmered again. Show time. The magicals crossed throughout the night, but I was sole proprietor of the magical side of the bar. On the ordinary side, my staff kept the tourists, locals, and the lost ones fed and watered, the rest was on me.

Two-thirds of the way along the pier the building stood, with two doorways. One was the cat-three rated glass hurricane double door, and the other could have originated on an ornate ship from 300 years ago. It’s grimy with the salt of centuries and won’t open unless the palm placed against it held a magical signature. I found it by accident at sixteen. Curious, I walked through and damn near pissed my shorts. Billy, the previous manager, glared and crooked his finger. 

“My office.” 

Panicked, I nodded, backing out the way I came, sure he’d fire me, and why not, I was hallucinating. 

Billy gave me a long, considering look. “Can you see the door?”

“The wooden one?” I squeaked.

He sighed and leaned back. “I’m sorry, kiddo. I truly am.”

That began the job training to end all training. Until I turned eighteen, I worked in the non-magical dining room, but spent an hour before or after each shift studying with Billy. He kept a book in his office that smelled of the bottom of the sea. My assignment was to read it and answer Billy’s queries. It took two years before I never missed a question. 

“You forget anything, you could perish,” he said, eyes serious and sad. “But, you will lead a life denied most, and make excellent money. Just expect to die young. Live in the moment, Cleopatra. You’ll have fewer of them.”

On the day I passed his test, he plunked me into the real bar and coached me on mixing drinks, watching for theft, and running a tight, stocked pub. I was eighteen, the whole thing was illegal as hell, but the authorities never asked questions. 

“Oh, I know a witch or seven,” Billy said, when I questioned the illegality.

At twenty-one he shifted me to the magic side and taught me alchemy, how to make cocktails that would kill me if I drank them, and toughened up my thin skin. Magical drunk people tended toward loud and bawdy, and their idea of anything goes was not for the faint of heart. I learned, and in time, got good. For four years, Billy and I ran a secret bar, and it was orgasmic fun. 

The ‘October of The Vapors’ changed everything. A late season hurricane coincided with a full moon. It was the damned trifecta of dark. Humanity experienced catastrophic damage, the winds destroyed buildings and landmarks; the sea flowed across the beach to the road, and the fury loosened the Vapors into the human world. 

Vapors dwelled in the space between the planes and crossed under specific circumstances. They were dark. As in profound misery dark. Plus, they were hard as hell to vanquish once they showed up and started ruining everything.

The pier withstood the storm, thanks to the witches, but appeared damaged enough to not call attention to that fact. Billy ran the magic pub and made money, which I spent repairing the human side, prepping to re-open. Busy days, full of contractors and vendors, got the kitchen back in action and the roof restored. 

“The Boogie is ready,” Billy told me that night as we reviewed the work, signed occupancy permit in hand. “You can open tomorrow.”

That conversation will stay with me until I die. Being young, I assumed he meant the restaurant. Busy with the human piece I never considered the Vapors, but Billy was under siege to keep the magic bar from blowing out with darkness. He never said it, but I believe, out of love, he kept them from me. They murdered him in the baneful middle of the night, threading their blackness through his pores as his shrieks covered the beach. A witch stopped his heart in mercy. She told me the story long after the shock faded and the resultant war pushed the damned Vapors back across the line. But that night, oblivious, I slept in my little house a few blocks away, the last innocent sleep.

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