Thea Atkinson's Blog, page 9
July 31, 2012
I have a guest: new book launch
Or: Thea’s too lazy to write a blog post
Today a guest post from the inspiring writer, Patricia Lynne (Website) who is launching a new book today! Huzzah! Note the gratuitous !!!s.
Enjoy and leave a comment. A Random winner will receive a copy of the ebook
Just launched!
Snapshots Blurb
My name is Cyclop Blaine and I am a real person.
“You are mine.”
I am a real person: heedless of a childhood spent under the supervision of an old man I only know as Master.
“You belong to me.”
I am a real person: regardless of my teenage years bound by violence as the adoptive son of the Victory Street Gang’s leader.
“You will obey me.”
I am a real person: despite the visions I see in others’ eyes. Snapshots of their futures.
“You will cower before me.”
I am a real person: my life will be my own. I belong to no one.
“You. Are. MINE.”
Excerpt
“Cyclop, how do you stay so skinny with all that food you eat?” Meemaw Cheryl asked. The ice in her glass clinked as she motioned to my food. Her gaze turned to the girl’s parents. “I swear this boy could eat a horse and not gain a pound.”
I ducked my head as heat rushed up my face and neck. I adjusted my hat, hoping to hide the blush.
“Always wearing that hat too. Even in church. I tell Tyler all the time, if he don’t make you take that hat off, I’m gonna whoop his behind. I did it when he was a baby and I ain’t afraid to do it now.” Meemaw pointed her glass at me again. “And then I’ll whoop yours. You don’t wear a hat in the Lord’s house.”
“God ain’t gonna care if someone is wearing a hat in church. He’s just glad the person is there,” Darryl said as he joined the group with his own food. For a moment, his gaze met mine. Guilt nipped me at the hurt in his eyes.
“Darryl Paul Blaine, don’t you sass me,” Meemaw Cheryl snapped.
“I’m not sassing you, ma’am,” he innocently replied.
“No,” Meemaw Cheryl said with mock disapproval. “You just sticking up for your brother.” Her attention turned back to the girl’s parents. “These two were thick as thieves from the moment Tyler brought Cyclop home. Found the poor boy huddled in a dumpster in the middle of winter. Barely a scrap of clothing on him. Abandoned.”
More heat crawled up my face. I kept my gaze on my food, trying to sound casual. “I wasn’t abandoned. My mas… the person caring for me died. No one wanted to take me, so they left me on a street corner.”
“You was abandoned,” Meemaw Cheryl insisted. “I pray the Lord have mercy on those cruel souls because I sure won’t show any. Don’t matter if you don’t want to; if you have to, you take your family’s child in, care for them as your own. That’s what I taught my children, and I expect them to teach theirs.”
Meemaw Cheryl’s friends voiced their agreement. By now, my face was blazing and embarrassment coursed through me like a tsunami. Some of the humiliation eased when Darryl laid a reassuring hand on my shoulder. Thankfully, conversation turned away from me. Meemaw Cheryl and her friends coaxed the girl’s parents into talking. She remained quiet as she picked at her food. Even though her plate was half full, she stood and walked back to the table. I abandoned my food and followed. My nerves tightened as I stopped next to her. Play it cool.
“Hi, I’m Cyclop.”
“I kinda figured.”
The heat returned to my face and I mentally slapped myself. Of course she knew my name. They were just talking about me!
No biggie, I assured myself. Just keep playing it cool.
“So, do you have a name?”
I was not playing it cool.
To my surprise, she laughed. “Yeah, I do. Amber Smith.”
“That’s a nice name.”
She laughed again and I mentally punched myself this time. What was wrong with me? It was no wonder she was laughing. I sounded like a complete idiot!
“It’s nothing special or unique,” she replied lightly. “Not like Cyclop. How did you get that name?” She paused, meeting my one-eyed gaze. Her gaze flickered to my hidden eye and curiosity played over her face. “Well, I can guess.”
Links to Snapshots
Goodreads
Amazon
Smashwords
About me!
Patricia Lynne never set out to become a writer. In fact, it was the farthest from her mind in high school and college. But now that she has started, she can’t stop. Patricia lives with her husband in Michigan, hopes one day to have what will resemble a small petting zoo, and has a fondness for dying her hair the colors of the rainbow.
Follow Patricia on Twitter
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If you liked this post, please do share.
Remember: Rattling Bones is FREE on Kobo and Smashwords. Grab a copy and spread the word.
Thea is the author of several novels that she considers left of mainstream. You can find her on Smashwords, BN, Kobo, Sony, Apple
Filed under: guest blogging
July 25, 2012
cover reveals and book deals
Or: it’s Water Witch Wednesday
by Thea Atkinson
Two bits of news for you today. First the exciting to you news:
Tomorrow (July 26) is my birthday! I can’t…or I’d rather not tell you how old I am, but I will tell you I remember rotary phones, life without an internet, and a time when Archie and Jughead were something other than tired cartoon characters.
so I’m putting a slew of my books on sale for 99cents. If you’ve ever even given a read of mine one tiny glimmer of thought, then now’s the time to scoop them up. The sale is good at Amazon and Kobo, but I’m listing the Amazon links below.
Don’t quote me, and I can’t guarantee it, but some of the links and sales might actually be ready today even though my birthday (and thus the sale) is tomorrow.
Water Witch
Formed of Clay
Anomaly
One Insular Tahiti
Secret Language of Crows
PLUS:
I’m giving a brand new short story away. If you like light, very light, literary erotica, Atlantic’s a Woman to Ride will be FREE on July 26 on Amazon. It won me first place in a competition oh so many years ago, and I thought I’d share it. Share it on Facebook, Twitter, and any ole place you like.
Now: the Second Big to me News:
I’m nearly 3/4 finished the first draft of book 2. I think I may have decided on the book title, but I’m not sure…you guys can tell me what you think based on the mockup of the cover.
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If you liked this post, please do share.
Remember: Rattling Bones is FREE on Kobo and BN. Grab a copy and spread the word.
Thea is the author of several novels that she considers left of mainstream. You can find her on Smashwords, BN, Kobo, Sony, Apple
I need a book title and I want your help (theaatkinson.wordpress.com)
You like sneak peeks, don’t you? (theaatkinson.wordpress.com)
Pass it on Before You Pass On (theaatkinson.wordpress.com)
Filed under: writerwednesday exercises
July 20, 2012
5 things my sales graphs reveal
Or: The grand graph experiment continues
by Thea Atkinson
OK. So you know I love me some graphs. I’ve blogged about it before. And as I blogged I started thinking about how my blog affected my sales. You know, you read the post.
Well, I got to working on a better graph, one that plotted my total sales for a day compared to my blog posts. Some astonishing things leapt out at me…especially when I plotted month by month versus overall time.
First, my overall graph.
What does it tell me?
That the blog visits/posts and my sales are definitely linked somehow.
That in the beginning, when I didn’t post regularly (the first section of the graph) there really was no correlation
As I began to gain audience and gain some regularity, the sales seemed to echo the spikes in traffic to my blog
You might not be able to tell here, but the upticks are definitely trending to just after a spike in blog visits
After I gave away about 6500 copies of One Insular Tahiti, (available from Amazon, Kobo, and BN, and Itunes) my blog traffic increased. That was also right around the time I made an effort to post frequently.
The graph may tell you different things; heck, I’m not a stats analyzer and I have no idea what to do with the information except to try to build my blog audience and post regularly.
What would your graph say? Have you created one? I challenge you to compose a graph and track your traffic and sales and then write a post about it.
Stay tuned for June and July graphs!
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If you liked this post, please do share.
Remember: Rattling Bones is FREE on Kobo and Smashwords. Grab a copy and spread the word.
Thea is the author of several novels that she considers left of mainstream. You can find her on Smashwords, BN, Kobo, Sony, Apple
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Filed under: Thea bits
July 17, 2012
You like sneak peeks, don’t you?
Or: I’m pretty stoked that things are moving along nicely.
Water Witch Wednesday
by Thea Atkinson
Hey all:
Thought I’d continue the notion of a Water Witch Wednesday until the launch of book two for as long as I can keep the idea juices running. This week, I thought you might enjoy a sneak peek of the opening. Raw stuff, you know. First draft and all. But it might fire your own supposition engines about how the story is going to unfold and help you help me pick a title. You’ve answered the poll, right? I do hope so, because all my creative juices (sounds so naughty) are going to the first draft and I’m totally losing my ability to craft any kind of title for the thing. Unusual, because I usually have the title first. It’s the springboard into my novel ideas.
Take Our Poll
So. Without further ado, I’d like to present the prologue. If you’ve read Water Witch, you’ll know who Yenic is, and if you haven’t….well, what are you waiting for? Go sample and see.
Book Two: prologue
The tears came easily enough, if you pinched the girl, which was fortunate because the babe hadn’t cried once since she’d been born. It was almost as though she understood what she was and harboured each droplet of water for fear someone would use it against her. Seven turns of the sun and still the infant hadn’t cried. Seven turns, and still she wouldn’t suckle.
What kept the babe alive, Taetha would never know, but the brown magics could be good and the power, when it was harnessed as it was in this child, was strong. No doubt the babe psyched the water from the very air around her what she needed to sustain her, but even that couldn’t keep the tiny heart beating for much longer. She needed to eat.
Taetha looked down at the narrow vial lain against the infant’s cheek and pinched the earlobe again. A squall leaked a few more precious tears into the glass. It was precious, and precious little, barely covering the bottom, but perhaps, if The Deities were kind, it would be enough.
She plugged the vial with a knob of cork and poured beeswax around the neck to seal it, rolling it in her palm to cool. She couldn’t take the chance of evaporation, or spilling, or worse, the psyching from it if the girl grew thirsty. She grunted in satisfaction and wrapped the vial, now cooled and hardened of its seal, into a thick hide, tied that with hare intestines dried and oiled to perfect suppleness, and then laid it in a basket lined with moss. This she covered with yet another hide, and tied that with yet more hare thongs, and settled the entire package near the door.
He would be coming soon.
Taetha had let the fire pit purposely die down and she glanced at it to be sure the coals were tamped. The iron poker lay where she left it beside the pit, seemingly forgotten, but well within easy reach.
Why she would be afraid of a child–a boy–she couldn’t say, but these last months she’d learned not all was as it seemed. The brown magic could grow black if left too long unused and mouldering. She’d not dared use of it what she owned since she’d been taken, and she worried the boy had been left too long with the darkness–or worse–counselled in darkness and had been spoiled before his life had ripened.
The infant whimpered and Taetha eased her from the basket and pulled her close against her chest.
“Shall I sing to you of Etlantium, Little One,” she said to the fuzz of hair. “Or should your nohma tell you once again of your mother?”
She hummed, letting the babe nestle into her neck. How warm the girl was. How tiny to fit into such close places as a matron’s neck, an arm crook, a heart that had closed up into a tiny knot of flesh.
So small, but so, so powerful. Would this boy know the power he was being bonded to? Would his mother?
She was still humming when the fire pit leapt to flame. Taetha eyed the poker and edged closer to it, turning even as she did so to her visitor.
He was small, but already had a few markings on his ribs. The first one, the largest, was easy to decipher even from her distance as it was still inflamed at its edges: fire.
“You are Yenic,” she said.
The boy’s eyes glowed yellow, sparking in reflection of the flame.
“You are Taetha?” His voice was querulous but strong. He would be a force, this one. Taetha tried to believe the wriggling in her belly was from nervous excitement, not anxiety. The two could so often be mistaken, being as close as they were.
She drew to her full height and nodded at the basket.
“I am Taetha,” she confirmed. “Blood witch to the newborn Temptress.” She gave him a direct look. “You were not followed.” She could have phrased it as a question, but chose instead the command. Let him feel nervous.
He shook his head, unaffected, but peered over his shoulder into the garden. “I thought I was, but he proved to be only a poor drunkard pissing in the wrong spot.”
Taetha said nothing. She knew the man was dead. She’d have to bury him later. This boy was indeed a child, but already his tattaus carried the weight of his mother’s power. He would have been instructed to take no chances. She eyed the boy again and was relieved–even emboldened–to see a look of regret on his features.
“How many seasons have you, Yenic?”
“Seven.”
“Seven is young to be an Arm.”
He toed the dirt. “It’s young to be bonded.”
“You’d rather the first but not the last?”
A grin pulled at the corner of his mouth. “I’d rather it was neither.”
“I understand.” He was so young, but something in his eyes made him seem far older than seven seasons. She couldn’t concern herself with his woes. She had a babe to think of. She glanced toward the door. “The basket is there.” Taetha pulled the infant closer, putting her palm over the tiny head of black fuzz. “Take care travelling it.”
Yenic took the few short steps to where the wicker sat, bundled in hides she’d tanned and beaten with her own hand. He pulled fiercely at the thongs.
“No,” she said, taking an alarmed step; she couldn’t have him breaking the vial just to satisfy himself she’d given what she’d offered. “It’s there. I promise you. Safe and sound.”
He glanced up sharply, curious. “Oh, I know it is,” he said matter-of-factly, and bent again to the hide. He pulled the vial loose, scraped at the wax and yanked the cork with his teeth. Peering at the liquid, he made a face, then spat the cork to the earthen floor where it spun twice before stopping.
“I’m not to take chances,” he said as though he were repeating solemn words that he’d practiced, then upended the vial into his gaping mouth. He swallowed. He grimaced. Sighed. With an odd quirk to his lips, he looked up at Taetha. He looked far younger in the moment than the seven he was.
“It’s done, isn’t it?” he asked.
She felt for a tell tale quickening in her chest, the echo of one fluttering against her own, and when she knew it was there, she closed her eyes in relief.
She didn’t have to look to know he was gone, but she opened her eyes anyway. The door stood open and empty. The fire pit went back to its blackness.
The babe in her arms began to suckle at her neck noisily.
“It’s done, Alaysha,” she said to the room. “It’s done, and would to The Deities I’d not had to do it.”
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to read more, you’ll have to mark the launch date on your calendar: OR: just email me at theaexcerpts at gmail dot com and I’ll put you on my launch newsletter and let you know how things are coming along. there might be goodies in there…
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If you liked this post, please do share.
Thea is the author of several novels that she considers left of mainstream. You can find her on Smashwords, BN, Kobo, Sony, Apple
And remember to enter for a chance to win a lined notebook!
Get your July swag (theaatkinson.wordpress.com)
Filed under: writerwednesday exercises
July 14, 2012
Pass it on Before You Pass On
or: I’m glad I learned the lesson from a master
by Thea Atkinson
I wrote a post last week for amwriting. I had scrambled through my brain trying to find a topic and decided on the two little pet peeves I had about social media and authors. I won’t bore you here with the info; rather, I’ll let you visit the site if you choose to read it.
The crux was that in it I wanted to link to a couple of mentors I’ve had since I began my writing journey. One, Sandra Phinney who is a friend and peer, might be loathe to call herself my mentor, but on my freelance journey she was exactly that. She can find the story in a stump. (her words, not mine, but apt.)
A second was Glen Hancock. I’ve been writing fiction for lots of years. (One day I’ll get good at it) For a couple of years, I tried to support myself by freelancing with nonfiction, and I was green, green, green, my friend. Sandra was about a year into her new freelance business and Glen was about twenty years on the other end of retirement. He still wrote, though, and still volunteered at Acadia to help new writers stretch their wings.
He also hosted a monthly get together in his home for Sandra and I to learn at his feet while the fire roared and we nibbled egg sandwiches and slurped pea soup. We talked writing, ideas, the big dos and don’ts, and ultimately, he critiqued our work for us.
That was eye-opening to say the least. He did so with passion but also with positivism. Getting a kudos from him wasn’t rare, but he always delivered the harsher news in a way that made you believe you knew how to do it right in the first place but somehow just slipped away from the story.
He gave of his time every month for several years. Sandra and I got too busy to be regular students, but we visited as often as we could. I’ll never forget those years with the fire roaring, the pea soup and sandwiches he had for us, the quiet, smiling way he had of encouraging us.
So when I went to include his name in my post, I wanted to find a way to link to this old world gentleman who had in the latest years written a series of books about his life. I thought it would be a small way of giving him some exposure.
I knew I wouldn’t find a website (He was 90 last time we visited last year) but I knew his publisher would have a page for him. Alas, the first thing that came up was his obituary.
I won’t say how sad I was to see it. I couldn’t read it. I still haven’t read it, but his smiling photo says it all to me, and I don’t think I will ever read it.
You should though; I know what will be in it: that he supported other writers. You should read it and say to yourself, “How can I encourage another writer? How can I help someone just starting find the way through the door?”
That’s the legacy my mentors have left me. Without them, I would be writing in a lonely room for myself. I’d never have published any of my shorts, my nonfiction, my essays…heck, my now self-published novels would be languishing on my hard drive and piling up in there.
So I think about Glen and I am reminded how he gave of his talent, skill, and knowledge without so much as asking for us to make him a sandwich. He sent out regular Christmas cards, and invitations to his annual summer garden parties and expected nothing in return except your most recent writing news. He gave of his time. His TIME in a way that was inspiring.
That’s the legacy I want to leave as a writer.
Thank you Glen. Rest easy.
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If you liked this post, please do share.
Thea is the author of several novels that she considers left of mainstream. You can find her on Smashwords, BN, Kobo, Sony, Apple
And remember to enter for a chance to win a lined notebook!
Get your July swag (theaatkinson.wordpress.com)
Don’t Sell Yourself Short: Freelance Writing Fees (freelancewritingadventuresblog.wordpress.com)
Freelance Writing: Should You Specialize? (freelancewritingadventuresblog.wordpress.com)
How To Bag A Freelance Writing Assignment (writerspadandcorner.wordpress.com)
Filed under: Thea bits
July 12, 2012
Eden Baylee Springs into Summer with new book
Spring into Summer – Release Date: July 9, 2012
Bio
Eden Baylee writes literary erotica. Her stories are both sensual and sexual, incorporating some of her favorite things such as travel, culture, and a deep curiosity for what turns people on. Spring into Summer is her second collection of erotic novellas.
Links
Website
Blog
Twitter @edenbaylee
Youtube
About the book
In Spring into Summer, a collection of emotionally-charged erotic novellas, four women explore their sexual limits, marked by love, lust, and loss.
Life for Claire Pelletier is changed forever when she meets a professor who teaches her a most important lesson in “A Season for Everything.”
Evelyn Sutton goes in search of a man in “Unlocking the Mystery” and discovers the key to her own heart.
With an open mind, Ava Connors attends a party but wonders if reality can ever live up to her hottest fantasies in “Summer Solstice.”
In “The Lottery,” Sierra Zhao sacrifices herself to numerous men to help a friend, fully aware of the consequences.
With locations in London, Dublin, Cape Cod, and Bangkok, these four women will seek pleasure to alter their lives and push their sexual boundaries.
Filed under: Thea bits
July 11, 2012
I need a book title and I want your help
Or: Things are getting tight to the launch deadline and I am braindead.
Water Witch Wednesday
by Thea Atkinson
I’m about half finished the first draft of Book Two in the Elemental Magic Series and I’m still sorely lacking a title. All that pops into my head is: A Witch’s Quest for Blood and Fire.
Alas, methinks it’s far too long. But I do love the words…just not the way they’re arranged. So I’ve decided to create a survey and let YOU decide the title. If you’ve read Water Witch, you know the premise, if not the storyline. Let me educate you just a hair about book two.
1. Alaysha meets others who come to have an impact on her in some way
There’s Taetha: Alaysha’s aunt and blood witch. What? You say. She’s dead? Yes. Yes, she is.
There’s Saxa: Yuri’s lovely wife
There’s Gael: Saxa’s fearless brother who is as handsome as he is stoic.
There’s Laird: the shaman who prefers to call himself The Laird and speaks as though Alaysha isn’t around.
There’s Aislyn: Yenic’s mother and the Fire Witch.
There’s Bael: Alaysha calls him the Carrion. You’ll want to know why.
2. Alaysha remembers events in her life that she chose to bury, and that puts her in some interesting situations as she works to control her power. The question is: Is that training being circumvented by her father or some other force she doesn’t yet understand?
3. Has Edulph found a way to infiltrate Sarum?
4. Can Yenic be trusted?
So:
Select the title you like best and help me decide. Just before launch, I’ll gift a copy of book two to 3 pre-launch winners even if I don’t go with any of the list below. (You never know, some thing just might click for me later or the results of the poll might show no one likes any of the titles I’ve put into the survey.)
And stick around to hear more about Alaysha’s journey over the coming weeks.
Take Our Poll
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If you liked this post, please do share.
Thea is the author of several novels that she considers left of mainstream. You can find her on Smashwords, BN, Kobo, Sony, Apple
And remember to enter for a chance to win a lined notebook!
Get your July swag (theaatkinson.wordpress.com)
Filed under: writerwednesday exercises
July 6, 2012
Throwing Clay Shadows is on sale! But ge
Throwing Clay Shadows is on sale! But get it now before it goes back to regular price . #99cents http://ow.ly/c1RAZ
Filed under: Thea bits
July 5, 2012
Is there a secret behind the story?
by Thea Atkinson
I grew up in a house with 3 brothers: one who put snakes in my boots; one who stole the money from my piggybanks: all of them, even the one I hid behind my closet door; and one who continually tried to peel my fingernails from the nailbeds.
I love each one of them, and all for those same reasons mentioned.
I wrote this post last year, and recent events have got me thinking about my family and my loved ones. Until I can write a proper blog post, I thought I'd re-share. Hope you don't mind the regurgitation.
If you liked this post, please do share.
Thea is the author of several novels that she considers left of mainstream. You can find her on Smashwords, BN, Kobo, Sony, Apple
July 2, 2012
Get your July swag
by Thea Atkinson
I’ve decided to continue the monthly giveaways because they’re so fun. It’s tough coming up with new things and new ideas, but this one so far has proven to be an interesting method if only because I get to pay something back to the readers who visit the blog or my Facebook page.
This month, I’ve put together a notebook. And I think it might be fun to allow the winner to have their name written on it…sort of personalize it a bit.
Short entry methods this time round. Reading a sample and answering a question is mandatory, but at least you can read right on your computer screen. The other two entries are a tweet and a review anywhere you please.
Visit my blogspot for the entries.
The Haystack giveaway netted me 2 new reviews and 2 new buys. I’m happy about that! Again, it’s about trying to spread the word that a Thea read exists and it’s about giving some little thing back to my visitors. Thanks everyone for participating and for visiting each week. I love the comments.
Also, for those who have been curious but haven’t quite wanted to shell out the price of a Starbucks coffee for a Thea Read, well, my books are all 1/2 off over at Smashwords for the entire month of July. It’s almost like getting two prizes in one. If you have an account there, do consider buying me and saving!
BTW: you might find a freebie on my Smashwords listing. There’s also a freebie at Kobo.
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Filed under: Thea bits
