Lindsay Buroker's Blog: Lindsay Buroker, page 30

Author Earning Extra Money Through Monthly Short Story Subscription Offering

When people hear the term “e-publishing,” they naturally think of ebooks these days. Why not? Lots of independent authors are doing well publishing ebooks through the Kindle, Nook, iPad, etc. stores. But long before e-readers became popular, there were e-zines and other forms of online publishing. A lot of these publications were “for the love,” and few made their creators much money, but there have been exceptions…

Back in 2002, author and teacher Bruce Holland Rogers started selling short story subscriptions through his website, and he continues to earn money this way (among others) today. He’s agreed to answer a few questions for us, and I think his story will be particularly inspiring for authors hoping to diversify their income streams (i.e. so we don’t rely solely on Amazon to pay for the monthly coffee and chocolate supply).

Welcome, Bruce! Could you tell us about your short story subscription service and where you got the original idea?

I got the original idea from a story that probably wasn’t true. I read a book about guerilla marketing for writers, and according to the book, there was a pioneer of email subscriptions who offered to send a limerick a day to anyone who would send him a dollar. The book said that the limericist has been flooded with payments and made $100,000 with this service in its first year.

According to the story, this writer had basically used a spam email to find his subscribers. This was supposed to have happened in the early days of the public Internet when there wasn’t even a name yet for what we now call spam.

I knew I couldn’t start my subscription by sending a spam solicitation, but the idea of distributing my work to paying readers by email seemed terrific. So that was what got me started. I launched shortshortshort.com in 2002.

Once my own subscription service was successful, I tried to learn more about these daily limericks by subscription. And as far as I have been able to tell, the whole story was apocryphal. It does not seem to have happened.

How many subscribers do you have and how did you get those first ones? (I imagine they’re the hardest.)

I have had up to a thousand subscribers. Right now, because I haven’t really worked at maintaining my readership by finding new readers, I have drifted back down to 500.

I got my first subscribers, and built my initial numbers, through a sort of pyramid scheme. I call it a pyramid scheme, but it was completely transparent, honest, and realistic. I said that if I had one subscriber, I’d send that one person one story for the year. If I managed to get ten subscribers, I’d send stories quarterly. With twenty-five subscribers, I’d send a story a month. And so on.

My first subscribers were family, friends, and my most enthusiastic fans. Because they wanted more stories, they recruited more subscribers for me.

When I had about 250 subscribers, I was obliged to send two stories a month. Delivering two really GOOD stories each month was already getting to be a challenge, so I changed my policy at that point and promised to send three stories a month no matter how many subscribers I had. The original scheme could have had me writing more stories than that, and I think that would have ended up disappointing all concerned, because three stories a month is really the limit of what I can produce up to my own standards.

Do you ever get burned out on writing short stories? Three a month seems like a lot to me!

I wouldn’t say that I get burned out on writing short-short stories, but I do get burned out on everything else that takes time away from thinking about and writing stories. I teach, and I love teaching, but if I could, I’d cut back the teaching to just one class a year. I’d really prefer to have a lot more time for writing and thinking about what I’m writing.

But three stories a month is about the right pace for keeping me pleasantly under pressure. Or even unpleasantly under pressure, but satisfied that I’m getting work done.

Of course, sometimes, as when my wife suddenly left me, my usual resources have taken a hit, and it has been hard to keep working. There was a time when I put the subscriptions on re-runs, extending the expiration date for all subscribers and sending out stories that I had written years earlier. But to tell the truth, getting back on track with the stories was very helpful to me in picking up the pieces of my life. And it’s tremendously rewarding to have paying readers with whom I am in direct contact. They keep me going just by letting me know that they’re reading and thinking about the stories. Even if the occasional reader didn’t like a particular story, I am pleased to be getting a reaction. And, too, a story that wasn’t one reader’s cup of tea will almost always be a story that makes a different reader email me to say, “That was one of your best ever.”

Some subscribers have said to me that they’d like me to only send two stories a month, but to send only the best ones. The problem is, readers would disagree greatly about which, out of any month’s production, were the two best stories. That always serves as a great reminder to me that the reader creates half of the story, and some of my work makes for better collaborations with this group of readers than with that group. Writing is not perfectible. That’s actually kind of reassuring. Although, of course, the shorter a work is, the more the writer can reasonably be expected to make it very, very close to perfect. So the pressure to do good work, to strive for excellence, is always high.

The other thing that makes me strive for excellence with every story is that I’m always getting new subscribers. Every story is some new subscriber’s first. First impressions matter. So I try really hard to make every new subscriber feel with the first story he or she gets that the subscription was a good idea.

How is payment handled? It looks like you use Paypal. Does Paypal automatically renew people’s subscriptions and such?

I take PayPal or checks. I prefer checks, actually, because of the rather high percentage that PayPal takes in fees for a small transaction. No, PayPal doesn’t renew anything automatically. Renewals only come when I ask for them, or the subscriber herself notices that her expiration date is coming soon.

PayPal is international, and that’s a great help. I have subscribers all over the world.

Have you done any advertising or promotion to get people to your site and (one hopes!) signed up for your subscription?

I did a little advertising early on, but most of my subscriptions come from people who have heard me read or give a lecture in person. I think part of the motive for subscribing is to support an individual artist, and that means getting an impression of me as a person.

I’m going to be trying some ads at my local art cinema beginning later this year.

Have you thought about bundling the short stories and later selling them in ebook collections? Getting paid twice, as it were?

Getting paid twice? I’d be very disappointed if I only got paid twice! For most stories, I get paid at least three times. First, I’m paid by the subscribers. Second, I’m paid when the stories are published in magazines or anthologies. (Most editors see that the subscription stories haven’t really been published in that they aren’t available. There is no publication of record where you can go to read one of the stories, so although some small and generally non-paying publications won’t consider the subscription stories unpublished, the major markets do, and those major markets are the places I credit as the “first publication” for the stories.) Then the stories are translated into German or French for the translation editions of shortshortshort.com. I don’t make much from those since the numbers are small and I split with the translators, but I’m hoping to grow those services and to add languages. Then the stories appear in collections. In the past, that has always meant trade paperback from a small press. However, I’m going to self-publish my next collection as an ebook and as a trade paperback.

Because my stories are short, a few of them get picked up for educational use. My stories have been incorporated into textbooks internationally and used as the basis of questions on standardized tests in various U.S. states.

None of these income streams is big, but they do add up. If I can regrow my subscriber base from 500 to about 2,000, then I’ll be making a living from shortshortshort.com, and I really could consider the option of just teaching one class a year and spending much more of my time writing.

That’s fantastic, Bruce. Good luck with the ebooks and with finding more subscribers for your short stories. Thanks again for stopping by!

Thanks for the questions! www.shortshortshort.com is the site.

Bruce’s bio:

Stories by Bruce Holland Rogers have won a Pushcart Prize, two Nebula Awards, two Micro Awards, two World Fantasy Awards, and, most impressive of all, the Jonny-Cat Litter-ary Award for a work of cat-related fiction. He has received fellowships to teach writing and conduct story research in Hungary, Finland, and Japan, and he has taught private writing seminars in Greece and Portugal. His stories have been translated into over two dozen languages. He is a member of the permanent fiction faculty at the Northwest Institute of Literary Arts, a low-residency MFA program also known as the Whidbey Writers Workshop.

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The Emperor’s Edge Book 5 (Blood and Betrayal) Is Now Available

Blood and Betrayal, the fifth Emperor’s Edge book, is officially out. It’s currently available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Smashwords. It should be up at Kobo within a couple of days and Apple soon after.

Here’s the blurb:

The last thing Maldynado Montichelu—former aristocrat and current ladies’ man—ever wanted was to be left in charge. After all, the team just blew up a train, crashed a dirigible, and kidnapped the emperor. It’s kind of an important time.

But, with Amaranthe captured by the nefarious Forge coalition, and Sicarius off to find her, the team is lacking in leaders. Also, Sicarius has made it clear that Maldynado’s life may be forfeit should anything happen to the emperor while he’s gone.

To make matters worse, Forge’s cutthroats are after Sespian, and the young emperor believes Maldynado’s loyalties are suspect. As if it’s his fault that his older brother is working with the coalition to usurp the throne. If Maldynado can’t figure out how to earn the emperor’s trust quickly, Sespian will go off to confront their powerful enemies on his own.

 Meanwhile, Amaranthe must find a way to escape from the coalition’s newest ally, Master Interrogator Pike, a man who plans to pull all of the secrets from her head, one way or another…

For those who purchased the eARC on my site, you should have received an email with links to download the final ebook (if you have one of the early versions with some missing italics, you can download the file again for the updated copy) as well as the Sicarius & Sespian short story, which, thanks to your help, is now available at Smashwords for free. A big thanks to everyone who bought an ARC as the funds raised allowed me to pay for the editing and cover art, not just for the short story but for EE5 as well.

As always, thank you for reading and for your support. I hope you enjoy this new adventure!

Related Posts:

Blood and Betrayal (Emperor’s Edge 5) Preview Part 2
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An Interview with Warrior, Mercenary, and Ladies’ Man… Maldynado Montichelu

Before I released Book 4, I talked Sicarius into doing an interview (which wasn’t easy, believe me!). Since it was so well received, I thought I’d see if someone else on the team would be up for something similar. Before I even finished making the request, Maldynado shoved everyone else out of the way, puffed his chest out, and said he was the logical choice, on account of the next book being all about him (I keep telling him it’s only half about him, but he doesn’t seem to hear that part). Thus I headed over to Facebook and the EE forum and solicited questions. (Please stroke his ego a bit by leaving a comment below… to let him know you were interested… somewhat.)

Maldynado Interview

Maldynado by Alex Baird

Maldynado, thank you for agreeing to answer a few questions for your fans. I’m certain they’ll appreciate your time, especially given how busy you’ve been crashing things of late.

Crashing? You mean that dirigible? That wasn’t my fault. You sent that monstrous flying aircraft after us, something so technologically advanced that it was like a steamroller bearing down on a farm cart with stone wheels.

What about the garbage lorry?

What? That was the boss’s fault! And so was the wagon in Larocka Myll’s basement. Why does nobody ever blame the woman? When it’s clear she was giving directions?

But enough of that. Did you say fans? My fans? I am ready and available for them. Er, they are female, right?

Judging by the names on the interview questions, yes.

Oh, good. Not that I mind male adoration, but woman are more… desirable.

Uhm, yes. Let’s get started, shall we? Alita asks: “I know you like having your ‘snake greased’ by random women but do you think you’ll ever settle down and start a family?”

*blink, blink* The first question is about…? Er, I’m certain I don’t know what you mean in regards to… snakes… but as to the rest, I must say that I hadn’t considered it, no. I’m still a virile young man. It seems early to consider draping more than shopping bags on my arms. Babies spit up on one’s fine garments, and toddlers are always unpleasantly sticky and grimy. They’ll put anything in their mouths, you know. Some of my brothers have kids, and the little brats warrior-caste scions haven’t exactly endeared me to the idea of children.

Perhaps you simply need to marry a woman with the ability to suitably discipline your children so they’d be well-behaved.

Well, that’s… a thought, but, no, no, it’s too soon to think of such things.

All right, moving on. Ndngirl asks: “Have you ever gotten Sicarius to the Pirates Plunder?”

Dear ancestors, no! Who would invite him?

Er, I suppose once or twice, when I’d had a few deep quenching swigs sips of applejack, I might have tossed an invitation his way, fully expecting that he’d ignore it. And that’s what he did, unless you count the glares. I don’t. Glares are a part of his normative state. That being a truth, you’ve got to pity the woman who– Ahem, I’m sure if Sicarius has, ah, needs, that he takes care of them in private.

Kendra asks: “Which do you think is more important for a man of taste to have: the perfect hat or a finely-balanced rapier?”

I must confess that I was expecting questions of a little more… substance. Don’t my female fans know that there’s more to me than a love for fashion and sword innuendos? I have hidden depths, remember?

It’s possible you’ve hidden them too well.

*sigh* Very well. A hat is a wonderful way to express one’s personality (and exquisite taste), but a functional and aesthetically pleasing blade is a must. One never knows when one will have to stab highwaymen, Nurian spies, or meddlesome businesswomen bent on taking over the world.

Stab…? Never mind. Let’s move on. EEfangirl asks: “We know about Ravido. Tell us about your other brothers. What was it like growing up with six older brothers?”

Dreadful, really. My Marblecrest ancestors may have been generous in handing out looks and sublime physical attributes, but senses of humor are scarce in the bloodline. It’s amazing how such a large family can have only one member who isn’t uptight, stiff, and humorlessness. That’s me, by the way. My wit was terribly unappreciated.

I could have handled that — after all, you see that I can even get along with Sicarius – but my kin have petty and cruel streaks as well. They take insufferable amounts of pleasure in the misfortune of others, and they’re not above causing that misfortune, on the sly of course, if it’ll provide entertainment value. Ravido’s actually one of my more decent brothers, relatively speaking, probably because he grew up first and got out of the house as soon as he was old enough.

Before me move on, let met get something straight… You “get along” with Sicarius?

When we’re not training, planning a mission, or trying to have a good time. And when he’s not standing behind my shoulder, giving orders or glaring.

So, basically when he’s not in the room.

Yes, exactly.

Elizabeth asks: “What is your biggest regret in regards to your family?”

That I lost Tia. The story’s in my book if you want the details. I don’t care to repeat them.

Your book?

Yes, Blood and Betrayal. My story, my book. I can’t believe how long it’s taken my biographer to get around to writing it, hmmph.

Next, Lysana asks: “Any true loves in your past, or did they all end when the sun came up?  (Or when the allotted hour was over?)”

Hour? I assure you my nocturnal endeavors are always longer than that. Goodness, didn’t you know that Turgonian men have stamina? And that my ancestors granted me far more than the average–

Ouch, why’d you kick me under the table, Lady Author?

Let’s stay on topic, Maldynado. Any true loves in your past?

I’m certain I was on topic, but if you insist on discussing the intangibles… there may have been women for whom I had feelings when I was a young and naive pup. But women always want you to settle down and start a family and take on responsibilities. *shudder* No, thank you.

Adamai asks: “In the group, who do you feel closest to? After Amaranthe of course.”

I know I can count on Basilard to have my back in a fight. And I like playing Tiles with him, even though he totally cheats. He’s a fine chef too. I never would have expected to find decent cuisine out in the wilds — though I do have to look away when he’s foraging. He plucks ingredients from the most unappealing spots.

Books would be all right if he wasn’t so insufferably full of himself. And boring. And if he trusted me to have his back. I’ve hauled his hairy cheeks out of the fire heaps of times, and he still thinks… well, if you’ve read the book, you know how quick to mistrust he was on this latest adventure. After all we’ve been through, I thought we were closer than that, but whatever. He’s the one who needs friends. Not me. People love handsome, affable fellows such as myself.

Maria asks: “So far your only (blood) relative we’ve seen (Ravido at Ft Urgot) didn’t seem to have your fashion sense. Do any of the men in your family consider their appearance nearly as important as yours, or is Ravido a good representation of them?”

Well, Ravido was in uniform when you saw him, wasn’t he? Military clothing is terribly drab and unimaginative. I’ll allow that the dress uniforms can give a man a dashing appearance, but they him a touch stiff too. Which means they suit Ravido just fine.

The rest of my family, enh, they know how to dress. They lack my flair, naturally, but it’s not like they wander around with mismatching socks.

Moldynotgo asks: “You’re the romance expert. You must think love is for everyone. But what about… Sicarius? Could you imagine him as a romantic hero?”

*sticks his finger in his ear, checks for wax, and leans closer* I’m sorry. I don’t think I heard you correctly. Can you repeat the question?

Is there any scenario in which you can see Sicarius as a romantic hero?

No.

You don’t believe everyone can find love?

Love is a feeling. If Sicarius ever had feelings, he buried them at the bottom of a rock quarry and smothered them with a landslide. No, forget that. He blew up the entire mountain on them so they’d never escape. I’ll bet you a million ranmyas that he’d deny ever feeling love if you asked him about. He’d probably call it some kind of weakness an enemy can exploit.

Mana asks: Besides your family and the occasional failed pick up line, what embarrasses you the most?

Being seen in public with comrades who insist on wearing blood-spattered military fatigues and other garish mercenary accoutrements. *long-suffering sigh*

Tara32 asks: “how big are your……feet?”

*lazy smile* Ample. Why don’t you bring your… shoes over here, and we’ll see if they… fit?

Sylvia asks: “Maldynado, you seem to give everyone on the team a hard time, with the exception of Sicarius, but you seem to pester Books the most. Is there a particular reason, besides fashion? It seems like there is genuine brotherly affection there. Also, my mother wants to know, despite your obvious attempts to prove yourself disreputable, how do you really feel about honor and a warrior’s responsibility to their nation. And one last one from both of us, if you could give Sicarius a make-over, without being murdered that is, what would you change?”

Some people just ask to be picked on, due to their self-importance and pomposity, but I hold no ill will toward Books. And I assume he knows my ribbing is without malice. Someone has to keep the tone light around here. Given all those wizards and monsters we encounter, it could get unbearably dark and grim if someone didn’t inspire a chuckle here and there.

Wait, who thinks I’m disreputable? You haven’t been talking to my sisters-in-law, have you? I try to be an honorable fellow, so long as it doesn’t involve too much personal hardship. This last year has been tough due to all this early rising and assiduous training. *shudder*

Sicarius? Dear ancestors, his name is coming up an awful lot in my interview. He has his own interview, you know. As for the question, if I thought I could have gotten away with it, I’d have cut his hair in his sleep. The man is desperately in need of a barber. As for the rest of his ensemble, it’s bland and a tad metal-heavy, but it’s not entirely hideous.

Alex Baird’s Maldynado (and Yara)

All right, thank you for your time, Maldynado.

That’s it? I can talk about this subject all night.

The subject being… you?

Naturally.

Isn’t that Yara over there waiting for you?

Ah, perhaps so. Yes. Goodnight. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.

That doesn’t narrow down the allowable activities very much.

*smirk*

Related Posts:

Emperor’s Edge Extras: Interview with Sicarius
The Emperor’s Edge Book 5 (Blood and Betrayal) Is Now Available
Emperor’s Edge 5 (Blood & Betrayal) eARC Available

An Interview with Warrior, Mercenary, and Lady’s Man… Maldynado Montichelu

Before I released Book 4, I talked Sicarius into doing an interview (which wasn’t easy, believe me!). Since it was so well received, I thought I’d see if someone else on the team would be up for something similar. Before I even finished making the request, Maldynado shoved everyone else out of the way, puffed his chest out, and said he was the logical choice, on account of the next book being all about him (I keep telling him it’s only half about him, but he doesn’t seem to hear that part). Thus I headed over to Facebook and the EE forum and solicited questions. (Please stroke his ego a bit by leaving a comment below… to let him know you were interested… somewhat.)

Maldynado Interview

Alex Baird’s Maldynado (and Yara)

Maldynado, thank you for agreeing to answer a few questions for your fans. I’m certain they’ll appreciate your time, especially given how busy you’ve been crashing things of late.

Crashing? You mean that dirigible? That wasn’t my fault. You sent that monstrous flying aircraft after us, something so technologically advanced that it was like a steamroller bearing down on a farm cart with stone wheels.

What about the garbage lorry?

What? That was the boss’s fault! And so was the wagon in Larocka Myll’s basement. Why does nobody ever blame the woman? When it’s clear she was giving directions?

But enough of that. Did you say fans? My fans? I am ready and available for them. Er, they are female, right?

Judging by the names on the interview questions, yes.

Oh, good. Not that I mind male adoration, but woman are more… desirable.

Uhm, yes. Let’s get started, shall we? Alita asks: “I know you like having your ‘snake greased’ by random women but do you think you’ll ever settle down and start a family?”

*blink, blink* The first question is about…? Er, I’m certain I don’t know what you mean in regards to… snakes… but as to the rest, I must say that I hadn’t considered it, no. I’m still a virile young man. It seems early to consider draping more than shopping bags on my arms. Babies spit up on one’s fine garments, and toddlers are always unpleasantly sticky and grimy. They’ll put anything in their mouths, you know. Some of my brothers have kids, and the little brats warrior-caste scions haven’t exactly endeared me to the idea of children.

Perhaps you simply need to marry a woman with the ability to suitably discipline your children so they’d be well-behaved.

Well, that’s… a thought, but, no, no, it’s too soon to think of such things.

All right, moving on. Ndngirl asks: “Have you ever gotten Sicarius to the Pirates Plunder?”

Dear ancestors, no! Who would invite him?

Er, I suppose once or twice, when I’d had a few deep quenching swigs sips of applejack, I might have tossed an invitation his way, fully expecting that he’d ignore it. And that’s what he did, unless you count the glares. I don’t. Glares are a part of his normative state. That being a truth, you’ve got to pity the woman who– Ahem, I’m sure if Sicarius has, ah, needs, that he takes care of them in private.

Kendra asks: “Which do you think is more important for a man of taste to have: the perfect hat or a finely-balanced rapier?”

I must confess that I was expecting questions of a little more… substance. Don’t my female fans know that there’s more to me than a love for fashion and sword innuendos? I have hidden depths, remember?

It’s possible you’ve hidden them too well.

*sigh* Very well. A hat is a wonderful way to express one’s personality (and exquisite taste), but a functional and aesthetically pleasing blade is a must. One never knows when one will have to stab highwaymen, Nurian spies, or meddlesome businesswomen bent on taking over the world.

Stab…? Never mind. Let’s move on. EEfangirl asks: “We know about Ravido. Tell us about your other brothers. What was it like growing up with six older brothers?”

Dreadful, really. My Marblecrest ancestors may have been generous in handing out looks and sublime physical attributes, but senses of humor are scarce in the bloodline. It’s amazing how such a large family can have only one member who isn’t uptight, stiff, and humorlessness. That’s me, by the way. My wit was terribly unappreciated.

I could have handled that — after all, you see that I can even get along with Sicarius – but my kin have petty and cruel streaks as well. They take insufferable amounts of pleasure in the misfortune of others, and they’re not above causing that misfortune, on the sly of course, if it’ll provide entertainment value. Ravido’s actually one of my more decent brothers, relatively speaking, probably because he grew up first and got out of the house as soon as he was old enough.

Before me move on, let met get something straight… You “get along” with Sicarius?

When we’re not training, planning a mission, or trying to have a good time. And when he’s not standing behind my shoulder, giving orders or glaring.

So, basically when he’s not in the room.

Yes, exactly.

Elizabeth asks: “What is your biggest regret in regards to your family?”

That I lost Tia. The story’s in my book if you want the details. I don’t care to repeat them.

Your book?

Yes, Blood and Betrayal. My story, my book. I can’t believe how long it’s taken my biographer to get around to writing it, hmmph.

Next, Lysana asks: “Any true loves in your past, or did they all end when the sun came up?  (Or when the allotted hour was over?)”

Hour? I assure you my nocturnal endeavors are always longer than that. Goodness, didn’t you know that Turgonian men have stamina? And that my ancestors granted me far more than the average–

Ouch, why’d you kick me under the table, Lady Author?

Let’s stay on topic, Maldynado. Any true loves in your past?

I’m certain I was on topic, but if you insist on discussing the intangibles… there may have been women for whom I had feelings when I was a young and naive pup. But women always want you to settle down and start a family and take on responsibilities. *shudder* No, thank you.

Adamai asks: “In the group, who do you feel closest to? After Amaranthe of course.”

I know I can count on Basilard to have my back in a fight. And I like playing Tiles with him, even though he totally cheats. He’s a fine chef too. I never would have expected to find decent cuisine out in the wilds — though I do have to look away when he’s foraging. He plucks ingredients from the most unappealing spots.

Books would be all right if he wasn’t so insufferably full of himself. And boring. And if he trusted me to have his back. I’ve hauled his hairy cheeks out of the fire heaps of times, and he still thinks… well, if you’ve read the book, you know how quick to mistrust he was on this latest adventure. After all we’ve been through, I thought we were closer than that, but whatever. He’s the one who needs friends. Not me. People love handsome, affable fellows such as myself.

Maria asks: “So far your only (blood) relative we’ve seen (Ravido at Ft Urgot) didn’t seem to have your fashion sense. Do any of the men in your family consider their appearance nearly as important as yours, or is Ravido a good representation of them?”

Well, Ravido was in uniform when you saw him, wasn’t he? Military clothing is terribly drab and unimaginative. I’ll allow that the dress uniforms can give a man a dashing appearance, but they him a touch stiff too. Which means they suit Ravido just fine.

The rest of my family, enh, they know how to dress. They lack my flair, naturally, but it’s not like they wander around with mismatching socks.

Moldynotgo asks: “You’re the romance expert. You must think love is for everyone. But what about… Sicarius? Could you imagine him as a romantic hero?”

*sticks his finger in his ear, checks for wax, and leans closer* I’m sorry. I don’t think I heard you correctly. Can you repeat the question?

Is there any scenario in which you can see Sicarius as a romantic hero?

No.

You don’t believe everyone can find love?

Love is a feeling. If Sicarius ever had feelings, he buried them at the bottom of a rock quarry and smothered them with a landslide. No, forget that. He blew up the entire mountain on them so they’d never escape. I’ll bet you a million ranmyas that he’d deny ever feeling love if you asked him about. He’d probably call it some kind of weakness an enemy can exploit.

Mana asks: Besides your family and the occasional failed pick up line, what embarrasses you the most?

Being seen in public with comrades who insist on wearing blood-spattered military fatigues and other garish mercenary accoutrements. *long-suffering sigh*

Tara32 asks: “how big are your……feet?”

*lazy smile* Ample. Why don’t you bring your… shoes over here, and we’ll see if they… fit?

Sylvia asks: “Maldynado, you seem to give everyone on the team a hard time, with the exception of Sicarius, but you seem to pester Books the most. Is there a particular reason, besides fashion? It seems like there is genuine brotherly affection there. Also, my mother wants to know, despite your obvious attempts to prove yourself disreputable, how do you really feel about honor and a warrior’s responsibility to their nation. And one last one from both of us, if you could give Sicarius a make-over, without being murdered that is, what would you change?”

Some people just ask to be picked on, due to their self-importance and pomposity, but I hold no ill will toward Books. And I assume he knows my ribbing is without malice. Someone has to keep the tone light around here. Given all those wizards and monsters we encounter, it could get unbearably dark and grim if someone didn’t inspire a chuckle here and there.

Wait, who thinks I’m disreputable? You haven’t been talking to my sisters-in-law, have you? I try to be an honorable fellow, so long as it doesn’t involve too much personal hardship. This last year has been tough due to all this early rising and assiduous training. *shudder*

Sicarius? Dear ancestors, his name is coming up an awful lot in my interview. He has his own interview, you know. As for the question, if I thought I could have gotten away with it, I’d have cut his hair in his sleep. The man is desperately in need of a barber. As for the rest of his ensemble, it’s bland and a tad metal-heavy, but it’s not entirely hideous.

All right, thank you for your time, Maldynado.

That’s it? I can talk about this subject all night.

The subject being… you?

Naturally.

Isn’t that Yara over there waiting for you?

Ah, perhaps so. Yes. Goodnight. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.

That doesn’t narrow down the allowable activities very much.

*smirk*

Related Posts:

Emperor’s Edge Extras: Interview with Sicarius
Emperor’s Edge 5 (Blood & Betrayal) eARC Available
Blood and Betrayal (Emperor’s Edge 5) Preview Part 2

Do Book Blog Tours Work (and how do you set one up?)?

This is my on-vacation week (where I’m supposedly not working on anything related to ebooks or writing — hah?), so I’m glad to have a guest post to share with you today. Middle grade and YA author, Michelle Isenhoff, is here to talk about book tours and how they help (or do they…?) with promotion and book sales. She’s fresh off a big tour and has learned a lot from the experience. So, without further introduction, I give you…

Michelle Isenhoff on Book Blog Tours

The End

Nope, that’s not a typo. Today is the end. The end of my first-ever blog tour.

Ahem, I see I better start at the beginning…

Let’s see, the beginning would actually be nine years ago, when I penned my first children’s novel. But that would make for a long story involving rejections, rewrites, vastly improved writing skills, four additional novels, and a Christmas present. So let’s just skip to the gift, shall we?

In 2010, my husband gave me a Kindle, which opened up for me an awareness of the whole digital world, including self-publishing. By then I had four novels sitting in a drawer, so I jumped in with both feet, quickly self-publishing all four books in the spring of last year. I may have jumped into the Pool of Publication, but my books slipped in with hardly a ripple. Such a beginning taught me a great deal about what not to do. So for the release of my newest middle grade novel, Beneath the Slashings, I decided to make all the waves I could. Part of that involved organizing a blog tour, which brings me back to “The End.” But instead of writing a how-to tutorial, I’ll just let you in on my experience.

Putting a Tour Together

A blog tour is simply a consecutive run of posts about a particular book on a variety of blogs with an aim to give your book as much exposure as possible. Since I write in the children’s genre, the first thing I did was compile a list of blogs that review middle grade fiction. They’re easy to find, especially when you find one with a long blog roll of similar sites, but I was a bit choosey. I wanted active blogs with a fair-sized audience to get the most publicity for my efforts. I also searched out a few blogs by kids.

It took much longer than I thought. Only about a third of my queries were accepted (or even answered). Also, many of the larger blogs do not review self-published work—but they often accept guest posts. So, in addition to soliciting reviews, I wrote a variety of articles, including character interviews, a post about lumberjack lingo, a few aimed at teachers, and this one, of course. (Thanks, Lindsay!) I even put together a handful of lumber camp recipes on a cooking blog. With a little creativity, you can find many “angles” to write about.

I do have to admit to some bribery. To provide incentive and thank those who participated, I promised a drawing for a $50 Amazon gift card at the end of the month. Any review left on Amazon during August qualified. I also priced my book at ninety-nine cents for the entire month of August so my review bloggers could offer their readers a special price. I avoided giveaways, as those have never worked out well for me.

As the tour progressed, I learned to never assume things will run as planned. Several bloggers backed out or forgot to post. Some didn’t include links. A few needed further explanations. A couple rescheduled. And two dropped off the face of the earth; I never got another response after their initial agreement. My advice is to stay organized and keep in touch with your bloggers as much as possible. Send out reminders, graciously untangle crossed wires, link to their posts, follow up with thank you comments, and roll with whatever happens.

My Conclusions

And now I’m really to “The End,” the part where I summarize results. Honestly, a blog tour is a lot of work. Was it worth it? Yeah, I think so. Here are some of the benefits I reaped:

•    feedback from many different reviewers

•    lots of eyes checking for those last slippery typos

•    new contacts

•    reviews posted on Amazon and Goodreads

•    thirty different blog audiences exposed to my work

•    interaction with my audience through blog comments

•    a spike in Newsletter sign-ups

•    a few more followers on Twitter and Facebook

•    fan input which resulted in a new and improved cover image

But what about sales and Amazon rankings? The increased sales of other books? That’s really what all the effort boils down to, isn’t it? Honestly, I was a bit disappointed. The children’s genre is a tough, tough market for a variety of reasons, and my monthly sales usually hover just under the three digit mark. I had hoped with the low price tag the new book might move a little better than it did. I must take into consideration, though, that it is the third in a trilogy, and even though they are each stand-alone novels, I’m sure that put some people off. I did, however, see an increase in the sale of my other books, particularly the first one in the trilogy, so I may yet reap further sales later (when the book will be priced at 2.99). Overall, my digital sales are on track to double this month, and I netted two bulk paperback orders, but I think the most significant benefits will be long-term rather than immediate.

Will I do a blog tour again? Yes, I will. I still think it’s an effective way for an indie to gain exposure. But I think I’ll top the next one off at two weeks rather than a full month. The prep work took a LOT of time, and though the tour was fresh for each new blog audience, it began to drag out for my regular readers. In the meantime, I’ll be putting into effect a new marketing campaign with the start of school: Teachers get them free (any digital edition anytime). It should be a lot less effort!

Michelle Isenhoff is an elementary teacher and the author of several middle grade and young adult novels. Her new release, Beneath the Slashings, takes place in a Michigan lumber camp and concludes a trilogy of Civil War historical fiction. You can find Michelle and her new free-for-teachers policy hanging out on her children’s literature blog.

Related Posts:

Setting up a Blog Tour for Your Book
Authorpreneurship 101: Shameless Self-Promotion vs. Shameful Self-Promotion
3 Selling Tactics Authors Can Borrow from the Internet Marketing Gurus

Emperor’s Edge 5 (Blood & Betrayal) eARC Available

As some of you know, there are some ARCs of EE5 floating around out there, as I sent copies to the folks who helped me out with my Kickstarter campaign last spring (and who have been patiently waiting and waiting for the completed podiobooks). Well, it seems others want copies too. :O

I’ve given away some free copies to people who have asked, and then some of those people have requested a way to pay me or donate to the cause, as it were. So, to make things easy (I hope), I’m going to make the ARC available right here until September 1st (the completed — and fully edited — ebook should be available shortly after that). I’m asking $10, and that will include:

The un-proofed Word .doc (that’s what’s out there now) that I sent to my editor (to be emailed within 24 hours of payment — probably within two hours unless it’s the middle of the night PST)
The completed mobi and epub files of the final ebook (to be emailed on the same day as I upload the files to Amazon and the other bookstores)
Bonus: if at least 20 people buy the ARC here, (we made it, so everyone gets the short story too, thanks!) I’ll use the money to pay for cover art and formatting for Shadows over Innocence, the Sicarius background story I posted here on the blog a few weeks ago. When it’s ready to go, I’ll also send you epub and mobi files of the short story.

Any questions? Please ask in the comments, and I’ll clarify anything I can.

Order the Emperor’s Edge 5 eARC ($10):

Related Posts:

Blood and Betrayal (Emperor’s Edge 5) Preview Part 2
Emperor’s Edge 5 Update
Emperor’s Edge 5 (Blood and Betrayal) Teasers and Update

Self-Publishing Basics: Where Can You Upload Your eBook (Besides Amazon)?

I’ve talked to a few new self-publishers lately, and it seems quite a few authors are uploading their ebooks to Amazon and that’s it. Now, if you want to sign up for Amazon’s KDP Select (book borrowing) program (which requires exclusivity in exchange for enrollment), that’s one thing, but it sounds like a lot of authors just haven’t thought about all of the places where they can make their ebooks available. It’s true that Amazon is the big kahuna, but the more places people can find your book, the more potential readers you can reach. In other words, not everybody has a Kindle!

Places You Can Upload Your Ebook

Amazon KDP — ’nuff said.

Barnes & Noble PubIt — For the Nook readers.

Kobo — This e-reader is big in Canada and other international markets.

Apple — The iBookstore. You need access to a Mac to run iTunes Producer and upload directly, but you can also get into Apple via Smashwords.

Smashwords — A bookstore and distributor that can get you into some of the places that don’t have self-publishing portals (i.e. Sony, Diesel, etc., and they’re also jumping into the library scene now).

Note: There are other smaller bookstores out there that allow indie authors to upload their ebooks as well. You may find them on your own or be approached by the owners. Just make sure there aren’t any fees for getting into the store (royalty cuts are norm, but not upfront fees).

Extra Places Where You Can Upload FREE Ebooks

If you have a freebie that you’re using to introduce people to your work, you definitely want to give it away everywhere you can. Here’s a video I did last year talking about how to get your ebook listed for free at Barnes & Noble and Amazon (where the lowest price you can list a book for is technically 99 cents). There are other places to publish your freebie too:

Feed Books

Scribd

Bibliotastic 

If you know of other sites authors can upload their free ebooks, please let us know in the comments (no charge sites only), and I’ll add them to the list.

Good luck, all!

 

Related Posts:

What Does It Take to Become a Full-Time Indie Author?
10 Free Fantasy Ebooks to Check out
Steampunk Fans: Flash Gold Is Free & Peacemaker Is out!

Blood and Betrayal (Emperor’s Edge 5) Preview Part 2

As promised earlier in the week, here’s the second half of Chapter 1 (first half here). I’ll post the next scene soon, too, since I know folks will be wondering what’s going on in Amaranthe’s part of the story. Thanks for checking out the previews!

***

Realization dawned on Maldynado. “You think they got her during that time?”

“Books, Basilard, Akstyr, and Yara, go east around the lake,” Sicarius said. “The emperor, Maldynado, and I will go west until we meet.”

Maldynado bristled at having Sicarius give orders–this wasn’t an exercise session, after all–but they could vote on who the ersatz leader would be later. Besides, he was sending Yara and Books, the two people most likely to heckle Maldynado, off in the other group.

Everyone else must have also decided this wasn’t the time for arguing with Sicarius, for they trooped off in the indicated directions without a word, though Sespian did pause to gaze to the east. He had an urgent reason to reach Sunders City, Maldynado recalled. But, when Maldynado jogged after Sicarius, Sespian fell in behind them, apparently willing to help look for Amaranthe first.

Good kid, Maldynado decided. At least that’s what he thought until Sespian started peppering him with questions about his family.

They had scarcely started down a muddy trail weaving through ferns and trees on its way to the lake when Sespian asked, “How do you get along with your brother, Maldynado?”

“I assume you mean Ravido, though I don’t get along with any of my siblings, Sire.”

“Yes. Have you communicated with him lately?”

“I haven’t communicated with anyone in the family since the old man disowned me over a year ago.”

Sespian ducked a branch stretching over the path. “Would you admit it to me if you were in regular contact with your family or… to anyone else?”

Anyone else? What “anyone else” was out there that the emperor thought Maldynado might contact? “I imagine not, Sire. Given that some of my family members are apparently up to seditious activities, it wouldn’t behoove me to be in contact with them.” Behoove? Had he actually said behoove? Wandering around with Books was having a tedious affect on his vocabulary. The rest of the words sounded stilted too. He hated having to be careful about what he said. If Ravido got anywhere near the throne in the Imperial Barracks, Maldynado hoped he tripped over it.

“You’re honest about that much at least.”

Maldynado was honest about everything. Occasionally he might exaggerate when it came to exploits involving women, but that was natural. “Uh, yes. Does colluding against the throne still carry a death penalty?”

“I believe so. Though… if you had been colluding and were to decide that helping me is a better option, we could waive any head-removal penalties.”

“I’m not colluding, Sire.” They’d reached the lake, and Maldynado shielded his eyes with his hand to exaggerate the fact that he was searching for Amaranthe. Maybe Sespian would notice and decide question-asking time could wait until later.

“I wonder if Ravido always had an interesting in ruling,” Sespian said.

Maldynado managed to keep his sigh soft.

“Back when you did have regular contact with him, did he talk of the family’s glory days? Of when the Marblecrests used to rule?”

“Sire, he’s more than twenty years older than me. I never knew him well.” Maldynado wished Sicarius had split him off into the other group, heckling notwithstanding. Or that the emperor would ask him some questions. Not that Sicarius would answer. Maldynado didn’t think he could get away with that. Silence could condemn him.

Sespian climbed on top of a log on the path and paused before stepping down. “Am I premature in asking questions?”

“What?”

“Corporal Lokdon suggested I have a few drinks with you before discussing family matters. Unfortunately, this swamp is lacking in purveyors of alcoholic beverages.”

Maldynado, climbing over the log himself, almost fell into the ferns on the side. “Amaranthe suggested you question me?”

“She assured me you weren’t conspiring with your brother and said you might be a source of information on him and any other friends or family members who are assisting him with his dubious goals.”

“Oh.” It stung that Amaranthe had suggested Maldynado might betray family members, but he supposed she’d been watching out for his backside. The next time the group wandered past enforcers or soldiers, the emperor could order him killed with a wave of the hand. “I don’t know what Ravido is up to, Sire. Has he already passed the point of no return?” Maldynado thought of the weapons delivery outside of Fort Urgot. His brother might be in the incipient stage of an uprising, but if blood had not yet been shed… “Or is it possible he might be talked into giving up his wayward plans?”

“I’m behind on events, thanks to being ushered all over the empire to inspect military installations, but the last I heard he hadn’t killed anyone. It’s possible banishment would be punishment enough. But… if he’s put things into play while I’ve been gone, then the law and hundreds of years of imperial precedent would demand his death, yes.” Sespian frowned, perhaps not liking the idea of killing Ravido, or killing people in general.

Ahead of them, Sicarius had disappeared around a bend, and Maldynado nodded that they had better hurry up. He could use the short jog to give himself a moment to respond as well.

Distracted, he misjudged a step and his boot caught on a root. He recovered his balance, but not without cracking his elbow against a sapling. Another bruise for the collection. What a day. “Yes, Sire, drinks would have been appropriate before asking me to share information that could result in my brother’s death.”

Sicarius looked back at Maldynado with an extra dose of coldness in his hard eyes. That surprised Maldynado. Why would Sicarius care one way or another about Ravido’s doings?

“So,” Sespian said, “though you don’t particularly like your family, you’re not willing to betray them.” He seemed to be mulling the fact over, rather than judging Maldynado for the choice.

Maldynado pushed a hand through his hair, tucking a few loose curls behind his ears. “I don’t want to be flushed down the wash-out with them, but I’m not ready to volunteer to be the trap that ensnares the bear for the hunter either. I’m already… I already betrayed the family once. If I did that to my mother again, she’d wring my neck herself.”

“I see,” Sespian said as they continued along the path. Softly, perhaps more to himself, he added, “Loyalty may be an admirable trait in men, but I do wish more of them would direct it in my direction.”

With Forge scampering around the capital, infiltrating the Imperial Barracks, Sespian must have trouble knowing who he could trust. Maldynado felt for the kid and wanted to help, but–

He stopped a hair shy of crashing into Sicarius.

Sicarius had stopped to face the emperor. Though it was always hard to tell with him, he looked like he had something to say. He glanced at Maldynado, didn’t utter a word, then strode ahead several paces where he knelt to examine the ground.

Sespian’s forehead crinkled. Maldynado gave him a shrug. He couldn’t explain Sicarius either.

“Fresh tracks.” Sicarius stepped off the trail they’d been following around the lake, touched the broken tip of a thin branch, and veered into the foliage on a short peninsula.

Maldynado pushed past ferns to follow him, wondering how Sicarius managed to move through the same vegetation as him but without making a sound. After he ducked a branch growing a mossy beard so long it’d make the hairiest old men in the Veterans’ Quarter jealous, the water came into sight again. Sicarius had stopped on a muddy bank at the end of the peninsula. Maldynado didn’t need to be a tracker to spot all the prints. Many different sizes and styles of boots were represented. If Amaranthe had come ashore here…

Sicarius knelt and touched the ground. He brought a finger to his nose.

“Blood?” Maldynado asked.

“Yes.”

“Amaranthe’s?” It was a dumb question–people’s blood didn’t have an identifying smell, did it?–but Maldynado somehow hoped that asking would lead Sicarius to say, “No, she’s fine. This belonged to the bloke she punched in the nose.” It was an unwarranted hope though. Maldynado would bet on Amaranthe in a one-on-one match-up against almost anybody–even if she wasn’t stronger or faster than her foe, she’d scheme up some plan to defeat him–but against the ten or twelve people responsible for these footprints?

“Likely,” was all Sicarius said.

He touched one of the footprints. From where he stood, Maldynado didn’t see anything special about it, but Sicarius grew still. “Major Pike was here.”

Maldynado put a hand on the nearest tree for support. “The Major Pike you described as Emperor Raumesys’s master interrogator?”

“Yes.”

A twig snapped as Sespian pushed his way out of the foliage behind Maldynado. He took in the scene with a grim set to his mouth.

“They must have seen her fall.” Sicarius pointed to a mark near the water. “When she came ashore there, Pike was waiting.”

“She came ashore, as in her broken, battered body floated up to the bank, or she walked ashore?” Maldynado asked.

Sicarius strode back into the underbrush, quickly disappearing from view.

“Oh, no,” Maldynado said, “no need to answer our questions. We’re just speaking to give the wildlife something to listen to.”

A crow squawked on the other side of the trail.

“Yes, like that.”

Sespian hadn’t said a word, and he didn’t react to Maldynado’s sarcasm. His eyes were cast downward, toward the trampled mud where Sicarius had found the blood. Maybe he felt partially responsible for Amaranthe’s predicament. Did emperors have the capacity to worry about commoners? Not a lot of Maldynado’s own warrior-caste brethren did, but Sespian seemed a sensitive sort. Too sensitive maybe. If he had the brawny assertive mien of his predecessor, Emperor Raumesys, he might not have so many people picking on him as someone easy to remove or shunt aside.

“We better go after him.” Maldynado pushed into the foliage, figuring he’d lose track of Sicarius if he didn’t follow immediately. As it was, he reached the trail and didn’t see anyone. He searched for fresh boot prints, but the ground was harder packed there, and he couldn’t decide which way the kidnappers had gone. He listened for a rustle of leaves or snapping of twigs that would announce Sicarius’s passage, but of course that never came. Near the water’s edge, a frog started croaking, but nothing stirred in the underbrush.

Sespian, making less noise than Maldynado would have expected, stepped back onto the trail. “Which way?” he asked.

Uhm. Maldynado pointed into the woods opposite of the peninsula and headed in that direction. If Sicarius had stuck to the path, Maldynado should have seen him. Besides, he didn’t want to appear clueless in front of the emperor.

Maldynado pushed through dense, tangled undergrowth for several minutes and was about to confess that he’d been guessing when the crow cawed again. Complaining about assassins passing nearby? He angled toward the call.

Up ahead, the trees thinned. Afraid he’d simply walked in a circle and returned to the lake, Maldynado almost turned around, but curiosity or perhaps intuition prompted him to continue.

Between one step and the next, the trees ended. Maldynado found himself squinting into autumn sunlight slanting down from a swath of open blue sky. A huge circular expanse stretched before him with all the trees, bushes, grass, and moss cleared. No, not cleared, he realized as he walked off an edge, almost tripping because of a height difference from one step to the next. The entire circle, easily hundreds of meters in diameter, was a foot lower than the surrounding earth. The foliage hadn’t been cleared; it’d been smashed. Compacted beneath a weight so great, even stout trees had crumpled beneath it, their trunks flattened into the ground.

“Bloody bears,” Sespian breathed. “They landed here? I didn’t realize how big that craft was. Or how heavy. How could something with such mass fly?”

“I don’t know.” Maldynado tilted his head. “Bloody bears?”

Sespian flushed. “When I was growing up, one of my bodyguards always said, ‘bloody balls.’ I adopted it until my mother heard and said it wasn’t appropriate for young princes to say balls. Bears were my work-around. The word still slips out at times.”

That story did little to change Maldynado’s mind that Sespian might be a tad soft for the position of emperor. “Do yourself a favor and don’t say things like that around military men, Sire.”

The flush deepened.

“The tracks end over there,” Sicarius said from behind and to the side of them.

Surprised by his soundless return, Maldynado nearly spat a, “Bloody bears,” himself.

“Lokdon was walking, hemmed in by soldiers,” Sicarius said. “The tracks disappear fifteen feet from the shelf.” He pointed at the foot-deep depression ringing the circle. “The boundary marks the hull of the craft, presumably.”

“How’d they get inside?” Sespian asked. “A ramp?”

“Unknown.”

“So, they have her.” Maldynado sank into a crouch, his elbows on his knees. Curse his dumb ancestors, why hadn’t he done better at piloting that dirigible? If he’d gone straight ahead toward Sunders City at top speed instead of trying to lose their pursuers in the wetlands, they might have made it. The enemy might have broken away to keep from being seen by outlying residents. “We have to go after her.”

Sicarius had moved away from Maldynado and Sespian and stood on the compacted earth, his gaze toward the south. The direction the craft had gone.

“How will your team find her?” Sespian asked.

Your team, he said, not we. Of course. What did some outlaw mercenary leader matter to him?

Maldynado caught himself before he said something snide. The emperor’s own mission called to him, that was all. And that mission might threaten the entire empire. Sespian couldn’t cast it aside to chase after one person.

“I don’t know, but we will. Somehow–” Maldynado snapped his fingers and spun toward Sicarius. “That map. Is that what you were doing? Figuring out where they’re taking Amaranthe and where they might land?”

“Books was right,” Sicarius said without looking at him. “There’s no way to tell if they’ll continue in a straight line or if their destination is within the satrapy.”

“Of course they’re going somewhere in the satrapy,” Maldynado said. “We think Forge people are flying that thing, right? Well, if we’re figuring right, Forge’s priority is the capital. They’re trying to back the next heir to the empire–no offense, Sire–right? If they’re acting soon, they’re not going to suddenly decide to take a vacation on some tropical beach down south. Maybe they’re not going far at all.”

For the first time, Sicarius met Maldynado’s eyes and seemed to be interested in what he had to say.

“We can catch them,” Maldynado insisted. He had to believe that. “What cities were near the line you drew?”

“Markworth and Deerlick Wood lie along the bearing I calculated.”

Erg, Markworth was over three hundred miles away and Deerlick Wood, at the edge of the satrapy, even farther. Deerlick Wood was a derelict mining town and Markworth a resort town on Lake Seventy-three, a spot where wealthy warrior-caste families vacationed, extending their summers when the weather grew cooler up north. Maldynado’s family had property in the area. He’d even visited as a kid, but that didn’t help him come up with a reason for Forge to go there. As far as he knew, there weren’t any natural resources, manufacturing facilities, or business opportunities. It was a destination for fun, that was it. Forge didn’t seem to be all that interested in fun.

“Even if they’re not going to those towns,” Maldynado said, “they were heading south along the river, right? The river is populated all up and down in that area, so people would be likely to see that monstrosity flying overhead. People like to talk. They’d mention something like that, and we could tell if we were on the right track.”

Sicarius had stopped listening, or at least he wasn’t looking at Maldynado. His eyes had turned toward Sespian, who, to his credit, wasn’t squirming under the attention. Maldynado always felt like a schoolchild being taken to task when Sicarius gave him a look that lasted more than two seconds.

“You will go to Sunders City next?” Sicarius asked.

“I must, yes,” Sespian said.

“Your absence in the capital will allow schemers to strike.”

“I must know what exactly Forge plans. There is someone traveling through Sunders City that I… must find.”

“You could send someone else,” Sicarius said.

“There’s no one else I trust.”

“You sought our team out.”

“Because of her.” Sespian waved toward the sky in the direction the aircraft had flown. “If she’s gone now…” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. That surprised Maldynado. Did the emperor care about Amaranthe? Why would that be? “Your team has done all that I requested. I thank you, but I’ll go my own way now. You need to find your missing comrade.”

“Your mission,” Sicarius said, as if Sespian hadn’t spoken at all. “It will be dangerous? A risk to your life?”

Sespian lifted his hands, palms up. “Probably. That doesn’t change anything. I’m prepared to go on my own.”

Insects droned in the wetlands. A second frog joined the first, starting up a croaking chorus. Sicarius looked to the south again. He had the appearance of a man facing a hard choice, though Maldynado couldn’t understand why. They had to go after the boss.

Finally, Sicarius said, “I will get her. Sire, Maldynado and the others will accompany you to Sunders City and act as your bodyguards, or lackeys if that is what you need. They will protect you.”

“I don’t need lackeys or bodyguards,” Sespian said at the same time as Maldynado lifted his hands and said, “Wait, I’m going after the boss too.”

“You will accompany the emperor.” As he spoke, Sicarius issued his favorite dark glare, the one that could make a man’s love apples shrivel up faster than a nude streak into the snow on Solstice Day.

Maldynado usually avoided that stare, but this time he crossed his arms over his chest and stared back. “I’m going too.”

Maldynado knew that Sespian’s safety should be his first priority–disowned or not, he was a son of the warrior-caste, and thus sworn to defend and protect the emperor and empire–but he wouldn’t turn his back on Amaranthe. Besides, Sespian was standing in front of them, safe for the moment. Amaranthe was the one who’d been captured by some torture-loving goon with a passion for molesting people. Maldynado didn’t trust Sicarius to go after her alone. He might do some obligatory hunting, but he didn’t care about Amaranthe the way the rest of the team did. He didn’t care about anyone.

In the face of Maldynado’s stubborn response, Sicarius strode across the field toward him, each step firm and deliberate. Maldynado prepared to defend himself, even if it meant ending up compacted into the earth alongside the smashed trees, but Sicarius stopped a pace away.

“Amaranthe would wish the majority of the team to help the emperor,” he said. “That is what we came down here to do.”

The argument surprised Maldynado–Sicarius didn’t have a history of using words to sway people–and he almost caught himself nodding. He turned the head movement into a shake and a scowl. “That was before she got captured. She’d–”

“Want the team to help the emperor,” Sicarius repeated. “I will go after her. I can travel faster on my own.”

Maldynado wanted to deny the statement, but he knew Sicarius spoke the truth. If he gave it his full effort, Sicarius could go farther and faster than anyone.

“I’ll get her,” Sicarius repeated softly. There was a determined intensity to his eyes that Maldynado hadn’t noticed before. He was always so pragmatic and seemed indifferent to feelings and emotions, but that look in his eyes…

“Fine,” Maldynado sighed. “If you promise to do everything possible to find her and not give up.”

Sespian cleared his throat. “While it’s nice that you two are in agreement, I never said I’d take any of your people with me. The security and continuation of the empire as we know it is at stake. I’m not willing to bring untested mercenaries along.”

“Untested?” Maldynado touched his chest. “Untested? I’ve been tested by swords, rifles, bows, giant krakens, man-eating makarovi, and don’t forget all the man-slaying machines powered by wizard magic. That’s just in the last six months.”

Sicarius and Sespian were eying each other and ignoring Maldynado. Nothing new there.

“You promised payment,” Sicarius said.

“What?” Sespian asked.

“In your note. You promised payment for your kidnapping. You said the money is in Sunders City.”

“Corporal Lokdon said she’s not interested in payment.”

“She’s not here,” Sicarius said, his tone hard.

If Maldynado hadn’t known him–and known money was even less likely to sway him than an eyelash-batting from a girl–he would have believed Sicarius wanted the coin.

“I see,” Sespian said, his jaw tight. “Very well.”

Maldynado wondered if Sicarius had chosen the best method for ensuring the team got to accompany Sespian. Wouldn’t they be better served by Sespian believing they were in this for altruistic reasons? Or at least reasons that weren’t as shallow as craving coin?

Sicarius pulled out his black knife and strode toward Sespian. The young man tensed but stood his ground.

Seeing them face-to-face gave Maldynado a start. For one thing, he hadn’t realized they were the same height. Sicarius always seemed taller than his six feet while Sespian, lacking the ever-present glare and body full of lean ropy muscle, seemed smaller. What really struck him though was the similarity of the determined, mulish expressions they each sported. Huh.

Sicarius flipped the knife and extended it, hilt first, to Sespian.

“What do I do with that?” Sespian looked at it, as if he thought he was supposed to examine it for some secret about the otherworldly technology.

“Take it,” Sicarius said.

Sespian grasped the hilt, though he simply held it out, brow furrowed in askance.

“I have often found its properties useful,” Sicarius said. “You may find the same.”

Standing a few feet away, Maldynado could only gape. Sicarius was giving up his knife? His favorite knife? He didn’t even let Amaranthe use that.

If Sespian knew the magnitude of the gift he’d been given, he didn’t show it. In fact, he continued to hold it out, as if he were thinking of rejecting the gift.

Sicarius spoke again without giving him a chance. “Maldynado and the others will accompany you to pick up the money. I’ve delayed long enough.” He glanced toward the southern sky again, then started past Maldynado, apparently intending to head off in that direction immediately. He didn’t even have any supplies beyond the knives he wore and whatever was in his rucksack.

Sicarius halted beside Maldynado long enough to say, for his ears alone, “Make yourself indispensable, so he chooses to keep the team around. If I return with Lokdon and find you’ve lost the emperor…” Sicarius’s eyes had never been fuller of threat when he said, “Don’t lose him.”

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Blood and Betrayal (EE5) Cover Art and First Chapter

If you’re following me on Pinterst (yes, I really am everywhere), then you’ve already seen the cover art for EE5, but if not…. voila.

I’m finishing up with the line edits this week and plan to get the manuscript off to my editor by this weekend. We should definitely be able to get things together for an early September launch.

Oh, you’d like a preview, you say? Well… this hasn’t been proofread yet, but I’ll go ahead and post the first chapter. It’s a long one, so I’ll do the first half today and the second half later this week.

Thanks for taking a peep! (And, if any new readers stumble across this, you can check out the first ebook in the series for free.)

BLOOD AND BETRAYAL

CHAPTER 1

Smoke smothered the dirigible’s navigation cabin like a dense fog. Murky water seeped through the spider web of cracks in the viewing window, dripped off the smashed control panel, and pooled on the floor in front of Maldynado Montichelu’s nose. Awareness of the puddle–and the fact that his left nostril was swimming in it–came abruptly. When Maldynado jerked his head out of the water, pain sharper than any woman’s tongue stabbed his skull from the inside out. He winced and grabbed his temples. His fingers brushed a bump larger than any of the mountains they’d just flown over. He didn’t know if it’d been thirty seconds since the crash or thirty minutes, but he’d liked things better when he’d been unconscious.

Maldynado sat up and examined himself to see if any important body parts were missing. Everything seemed to be intact, though more than one crimson stain marred his ivory shirt. The fringes dangling from the hem hung in a dirty, snarled mess. He sighed when he spotted his latest fur cap wedged beneath a warped metal panel, blood and grease stains competing for prominence. When Maldynado had agreed to join Amaranthe’s team, he had assumed that the mercenary life would include perils to his body, but he hadn’t known how devastating it would be to his wardrobe. Ah, well, Sergeant Yara had thought the raccoon-tail cap silly anyway.

Yara! She’d also been in the navigation cabin, alternately yelling advice and cursing at him, when the dirigible crashed. Maldynado spun about, looking for her.

She lay crumpled in the corner. With her broad shoulders and strong jaw, nobody would call the six-foot-tall woman fragile, but at the moment…

Maldynado crept toward her, a hand outstretched. Eyes closed, neck bent awkwardly, Yara wasn’t moving. He wasn’t even sure if she was breathing. For that matter, he wasn’t sure if anyone was breathing. The only sound coming from the rest of the dirigible was the trickling of water.

Maldynado touched Yara’s shoulder. “Lady Gruff and Surly, are you awake?”

Her eyes didn’t open.

“Are you… alive?” Maldynado asked more quietly. The woman was terse, rude, and utterly lacking in femininity, so he had no idea why he cared; nonetheless, a feeling of concern wormed its way into his belly. He shook her shoulder. “You better not be dead. This team is already overflowing with ankle spankers. I was looking forward to having more women around.”

Yara’s eyelids fluttered open. She blinked a few times, focused on him, and frowned. “Ankle spanker? The only thing you’ve got that’ll reach that far is your ego.”

“Now that we’ve reunited with the others, there’s no need for you to continue as Chief Maldynado Insulter.” He offered her a hand. “Books has been fulfilling that role for the last nine months.”

Thinking of Books reminded Maldynado that the rest of the team was back there somewhere and might need help. He huffed in exasperation when Yara refused his hand. She rolled over, braced herself on the wall, and found her way to her feet on her own. As soon as she tried to take a step, she tottered and almost pitched over, so Maldynado ended up grabbing her arm to support her anyway.

“What a crash,” Yara muttered without thanking him. “Is it common for people to try and blow up your team this many times?”

“Not in the same week, no.”

They were angling for the corridor leading to the cargo bay and the dirigible’s exit when a dark figure stepped into the hatchway. Sicarius.

On any given day, Sicarius, with his death-black attire, humorless face, and dozen-odd daggers and throwing knives, cut a grim figure, the sort of figure that people crossed the street to avoid–at a dead sprint. Today, dirt and blood smeared his face and body, more of the latter being revealed due to numerous tears in his shirt and trousers. Anyone else would have looked weak and haggard; he looked like an angry ancestor spirit from one of the old stories, the kind of spirit who slew the populaces of entire towns to avenge the deaths of family members. When those dark flinty eyes focused on Maldynado, his gut clenched and he took a step back. He might be six inches taller and possess a broader build, but it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t provoke Sicarius under any circumstances, and circumstances were worse than usual.

“Amaranthe is missing.” Sicarius’s hard gaze never left Maldynado’s face.

“Missing?” Maldynado squeaked, then cleared his throat in an attempt to reclaim a normal register.

“She was thrown out when the craft lurched.” As always, Sicarius spoke in an emotionless monotone, but Maldynado was fairly certain there was an accusation in those words.

“It’s not my fault,” he blurted. “I did my best not to crash. Or to lurch. They hit us with something. Anyway, I was only piloting because Books was helping with the surgery. How’d that go anyway? Is the emperor…”

Sicarius had turned his back while Maldynado was speaking, and he stalked down the corridor without a word.

“Do you always tinkle down your leg like that when he looks at you?” Yara asked when he was out of sight.

Maldynado squelched a flicker of irritation and the urge to respond defensively. Growing up with a pile of older brothers had long ago taught him that confrontations ended before they began when one let insults ricochet off one’s skin like slingshot pebbles clinking off an armadillo’s shell. “Nah,” he said, “only once or twice a week, when I can tell he’s in a real ornery mood and might thump me.”

“Has he ever actually touched you?”

“Oh, yes.” Maldynado left the navigation cabin, heading into the dented and warped corridor where even more smoke thickened the air. “He calls it training. It’s painful.”

Thanks to a tilted floor, Maldynado had to climb up a slope to reach the cargo bay. Voices came from beyond the open rear hatch, so he hurried. If the boss truly had fallen out, they needed to hustle to find her before those Forge minions, or whoever had been flying that bizarre black aircraft, found her first.

As it turned out, the hatch wasn’t simply open; it had been torn off. He was about to step outside, but the back end of their craft hung several feet above water clogged with cattails. The vegetation-filled wetlands stretched several hundred meters until the foliage ended at the edge of Lake Fenroot’s blue depths. Above Maldynado, the huge, decimated dirigible balloon blotted out the sun as it dangled amongst moss-draped trees edging the shallows. Many trunks had snapped under its pull, or perhaps from the metal cabin ramming into them during the crash. Despite the water everywhere, copses of trees were burning at various points around the lake. A smoky pall smeared the horizon, a reminder that the enemy craft had torched large swaths of earth before finally striking the dirigible.

A cough and a nearby splash drew Maldynado’s attention. Books, Basilard, and Akstyr, weighed down by their weapons and rucksacks, were wading toward a muddy beach hemmed in by trees with large, gnarled roots. Maldynado felt a twinge of irritation that nobody had come to check on him and Yara, but he supposed one could say Sicarius had been doing that, albeit without any expressions of concern or inquiries to their health.

The emperor, his neck bandaged and blood staining his pale brown hair, had already reached the beach. He stood next to a couple of rucksacks as he gazed toward the lake. He might have been trying to spot Amaranthe, or he might have been watching for their attackers to return. Nobody was talking, and any birds or critters that might call the wetlands home were staying quiet in the aftermath of the crash. Only the splashes of the wading men disturbed the silence. The smell of skunk cabbage and decaying vegetation mingled with the smoke, adding to the place’s utter lack of charm.

Sicarius strode through the thigh-deep water with more alacrity than Books and Akstyr and climbed onto the beach ahead of them. He set a footlocker down next to the emperor. Maldynado was about to hop into the water when Sicarius’s voice froze him.

“Did you get your weapons and gear?”

“I’m not even sure where my gear is,” Maldynado said. “It’s probably one of the myriad things that belted me in the head during that landing.”

Yara came up beside him and peered through the hatchway. She was blinking and seemed to have trouble focusing her eyes. The whole team needed a doctor. And an alcohol-drenched vacation.

“Get your belongings,” Sicarius told Maldynado. “We can’t remain at the crash site.” His gaze tilted skyward.

“Is he second in command?” Yara asked quietly.

Maldynado rubbed his aching temples. “Dear ancestors, I hope not.”

Back in the cabin he’d never had a chance to sleep in, Maldynado found his rucksack jammed under a bunk, the flap still tied shut. His rapier and utility knife were another matter. In the chaos, they’d separated themselves from their sheaths, and he had to crawl all over the cabin to retrieve them from amongst pillows, bed sheets, and blankets that had flown everywhere during the haphazard final flight.

Yara beat him out of the dirigible and already waited on the beach when Maldynado hopped into the water. He gave a sad salute to the craft as he slogged away. He noted its location, so he could tell Lady Buckingcrest where they had crashed her property. It would take a lot of hard work to win her favor again after destroying her prize dirigible, but maybe the craft–and their relationship–could be salvaged.

“Are you going somewhere?” Books was asking someone when Maldynado reached the beach.

Sicarius had shouldered his rucksack. “To find Lokdon. Where did she fall out?” This time, Books was the recipient of the icy gaze, as if Sicarius blamed him for letting her go.

“I’m not positive.” Books gnashed his lip between his teeth as he scanned the wetlands. Blood streamed from a cut beneath one of his graying temples, and the wrinkles creasing his brow seemed more pronounced than usual. He eventually pointed toward Lake Fenroot. “I think we were over the lake.”

“You think,” Sicarius said.

“Yes, think. At the time, our dubious pilots–” Books waved toward Maldynado and Yara, “–were hurling the craft to and fro. When Amaranthe slid through the door, I was struggling to keep from being flung out myself. I didn’t have time to peek out a porthole to triangulate our location.”

Maldynado propped his fists on his hips and was about to argue that there’d been nothing dubious about the piloting–there was only so much one could do when being shot at by a craft with superior firepower–but he noticed Yara standing a few feet away in a similar hands-on-hips pose, her lips curled as if also poised to retort. Something about the similarity disoriented him. He dropped his hands and said nothing. She looked at him at the same time as he was eyeing her, frowned, and seemed to forget her retort too.

The west side of the lake, Basilard signed, his pale-skinned fingers flying. We tried our best to help her, but it happened too quickly. It’s possible… When Sicarius focused on him, Basilard’s fingers faltered. He glanced at Books and ran a hand over his bald, scarred head before squaring his shoulders and continuing. We were high and near the shoreline. Shallow water. It’s possible she is… injured.

Maldynado swallowed. He’d been trying to stay above the treetops, so they’d been at least fifty feet up when the other craft struck.

Without a thank you or even a nod, Sicarius said, “I will recover Lokdon.” Then, as he started walking toward the lake, he added, “Sire, come with me. I can best protect you.”

The emperor, who had heretofore been quiet, blinked and stared at his back. “Uh, thanks, but I’ll take my chances here.”

Sicarius halted and turned slowly, pinning the emperor with his stare. Emperor or not, Maldynado expected the young man to squirm under those dark eyes–everyone else did. Sespian lifted his chin, though, and returned the stare. There was even the faintest hint of an eyebrow raise, as if to say, “That’s right. I’m refusing to obey you. What’re you going to do about it?”

Though Maldynado wanted to hunt for Amaranthe, too, he felt compelled to wink at the emperor and say, “Don’t worry, Sicarius, we can take good care of him. We’re fine pugilists.” If Sespian had been anyone else, Maldynado would have thrown an arm around his shoulders as he spoke, but there were protocols against touching the emperor. In battle, congratulatory shoulder thumps from trusted warrior-caste brethren might be appropriate, but, alas, Maldynado was neither trusted nor warrior-caste any more.

Sicarius’s face never changed–someday Maldynado wanted to see the man lose his temper, or at least sneer in frustration–but he did take a step toward the emperor, as if he might force the issue. He froze before he’d taken more than that one step though. His hand dropped to that nasty black dagger of his, and he swiveled, his eyes shifting toward the sky–or at least what they could see of it. The balloon and lingering smoke obscured the view.

“What is it?” Books asked.

“Trouble,” Akstyr muttered, pushing a snarl of hair out of his eyes. Dampness had flattened his usual spikes and made his mismatched clothing appear even baggier than usual as well. If he had to flee, he’d be lucky if his trousers didn’t drop to his ankles.

A likely guess, Basilard signed, and glanced toward the trees, as if seeking a hiding spot.

Though numerous minutes had passed since the crash, the birds hadn’t started chirping again. Maybe it was the smoke and the flames still dancing in some of the trees. Or maybe it was something more inimical. Maldynado found himself scouring the sky as well. Their attackers had prematurely left them for dead once before–in the tunnel cave-in. They might not be so quick to leave the area this time.

“Get off the beach,” Sicarius said. “Into the trees. Hide.”

Nobody decided to use that moment to question whether Sicarius was second-in-command or not.

Maldynado grabbed the end of the footlocker and waved for Basilard to help him with it, but Sicarius barked, “Leave the gear.”

Yara, Books, and Basilard sprinted for cover in the forest. The emperor hesitated, as if he meant to wait to make sure the others were safe before running.

Sicarius strode toward him, spun him toward the woods, and pushed. “Go, Sire.”

Maldynado caught up and ran at Sespian’s side. Emperor or not, the young man could use an ally, especially since Sicarius seemed to have–ancestral spirits save the boy–made “protecting” him his project. Even if it was well-meaning, Sicarius’s attention wasn’t something a person should have to face alone.

“Here, Sire.” Maldynado hopped a stump and slid into a nook formed by a tightly packed copse of trees.

With his broad shoulders, Maldynado had to turn sideways to squeeze into the spot, but he wagered nobody in the air over the wetlands would be able to see him. He waved, inviting Sespian in beside him. Being of slighter build, the emperor slipped in without trouble. Sicarius paused behind him.

“Sorry,” Maldynado said brightly. “No room for three.”

Sicarius opened his mouth, but, before he could speak, a great cacophony shattered the stillness of the wetlands. It pounded at Maldynado’s eardrums, and a stunned moment passed before he could identify the noise as wood snapping, a lot of wood snapping. A tremor ran through the earth, and ripples shot across the nearby water. The smell of something burning singed the air.

Sicarius disappeared from view. Maldynado wanted to sink low in his nook and bury his head, but he peeked around the closest tree instead.

All around the beach, trees had been felled or were falling. So many branches and bushes burned that it seemed like one huge inferno spouting flames into the sky. Even in his protected copse, the heat battered Maldynado’s face.

Every trace of the dirigible, including the metal hull, had disappeared. Incinerated.

Maldynado groaned. “So much for salvaging the craft.” Not only would Lady Buckingcrest never forgive him, but she might even send men out to hunt him down.

Nothing but smoldering black smudges remained of the footlocker and abandoned gear on the beach. Beyond the crash site, a massive dark shape cast its shadow over the water. The solid dome hovered a few meters above the wetlands, its smooth, unadorned hull so inky black it appeared as if a semi-circular hole had opened up in the sky, revealing empty nothingness within. The craft seemed to be waiting.

“That cannot be good,” the emperor murmured.

Maldynado pulled back and leaned his forehead against fuzzy, damp moss growing up the side of his tree. “I hope Amaranthe was able to get out of the water and find a place to hide before they saw her.”

“They’re probably not looking for her,” Sespian said. “They’ll want me back.”

Back or dead? Maldynado kept the thought to himself. Sespian had enough on his mind. “If they stumbled across Amaranthe while looking for you, I’m sure they’d be happy to pick her up–or shoot her outright. We’ve caused a lot of trouble for them, and she’s our fountainhead.”

Sespian winced. “I would… deeply regret it if harm came to her because of me.”

The words weren’t hollow ones. Maldynado could tell from the new layer of concern that weighed down Sespian’s face. So much for not putting more on his mind.

Maldynado fidgeted, eager to hunt for Amaranthe. If Forge hadn’t found her, but she was holed up somewhere, incapacitated from her injuries, she’d be waiting for her team’s help. Actually, incapacitated or not, she’d be scheming up some way to help herself, but she wouldn’t be too proud to accept assistance.

“Is it gone yet?” Maldynado whispered.

From his spot, Sespian had a better view of the water. “It’s moved closer.”

“Wonderful. They must be hoping we’ll stroll out and volunteer to be flambéed.”

“Or maybe it’s going to torch the entire wetlands to ensure we’re all dead.”

“Cheery thought.” Maldynado said. Maybe Sespian knew Forge didn’t want him “back” after all.

A tree snapped. Branches broke and leaves rattled as it fell, landing with a noisy splash. Maldynado gripped the mossy bark of his own tree and leaned out, trying to keep his body hidden as he observed the craft.

Still hovering, the floating dome crowded the shoreline. Trees standing next to it appeared as thin and frail as toothpicks. Its convex top rose higher than their canopies. Nothing on the flat black bottom of the craft caused ripples in the water below, nor did the leaves in the trees near it stir, so Maldynado couldn’t imagine how it flew or stayed in the air. It did drift from side to side as it hovered, occasionally bumping those “toothpicks,” causing them to crash to the ground as if they were rootless dowels capable of being knocked over in the faintest breeze.

Maldynado expected the craft to tire of waiting and to send some of those deadly beams out to raze the entire forest, leaving nothing but a smoking crater. But, after hovering for several more moments, it floated upward. Once above the canopy, it headed south.

Long before Maldynado thought crawling out of hiding would be wise, Sicarius darted past him. He leaped ten feet into the air, caught the side of a stout pine, and scrambled up the trunk. He skimmed upward, zipping around branches like a squirrel before disappearing from view.

“That man is exceedingly odd,” Sespian observed.

“Oh, you have no idea,” Maldynado said.

“Why does Corporal Lokdon employ him?” Sespian asked lightly, as if he were simply making conversation and the answer didn’t matter, but intensity sharpened his brown eyes.

“He can thump everyone else into pawpaw pulp, and he does what the boss asks.” As soon as Maldynado said that, he thought of Sicarius’s recent string of assassinations and grimaced. “Most of the time anyway.” That might not be all that accurate either. “Often enough that she finds him useful,” he amended.

“Hm. And I suppose she must find you useful too.” Sespian raised his eyebrows.

Maldynado vowed to be careful what he said. If his brother, Ravido, truly planned to usurp the throne, Maldynado might be presumed guilty by lieu of having the same parents. “Oh, I’m all sorts of useful.” He touched his chest and offered his most disarming smile–it worked wonders on women, though a nineteen-year-old emperor might be less enamored. “I’m tolerable good at thumping folks, too, and I can get great deals from the many female clerks and businesswomen in Stumps.”

Sespian mulled that over for a moment before saying, “You’re the group shopper?”

“Technically, yes, but don’t forget the thumping part.” Maldynado lifted an arm and flexed his biceps.

Sespian’s measuring gaze remained on him long enough that Maldynado started to feel silly holding his arm aloft. He lowered it, but kept the affable smile. He didn’t have anything to hide, but he’d prefer it if the emperor saw him as a simple man, the sort who couldn’t string together a coup if he wanted to. Or maybe the sort who, even if he could string together a coup, couldn’t be bothered to make the effort. Nobody worried about men like that.

Sicarius dropped out of the tree, bending his knees to soften the landing. “Books.”

Foliage stirred somewhere behind Maldynado, and boots crunched through the twigs and dead leaves. Grumbling accompanied the footsteps, something about, “being summoned like a hound.”

When Books stopped in front of him, Sicarius dropped a compass into one pocket and pulled a folded piece of paper out of another. Curious, Maldynado wriggled out of his nook. With the dirigible nothing more than a memory, it seemed unlikely the enemy craft would return.

“I need a pen,” Sicarius told Books.

Annoyance flickered across Books’s weathered face. “You think gathering writing utensils was my first priority after that brawny toad–” Books pointed at Maldynado, “–crashed us? I was hurrying to get out before the engine exploded, something I assumed would happen given that Maldynado had been flying. I didn’t even have a chance to grab my sword.”

“Come now, Booksie,” Maldynado said, “we all know you could be set upon by a platoon of Nurian soldiers and you’d always grab writing utensils first. You can only fight one man at a time with a sword, but, with a pen, you can compose a lecture to bore legions of enemy troops to death.”

Books glared at him. Sicarius held out his hand.

Sighing, Books pulled out his journal and unclipped a pen. The journal was the compact, leather-bound one that had disappeared the day before the team left the capital. Maldynado hadn’t realized he’d gotten it back.

Sicarius took the pen, unfolded his paper, and laid it on the earth. It was a map of the satrapy. Sicarius marked a couple of topographical features, scribbled coordinates under them, then started drawing lines. Maldynado scratched his head.

By now, the others had gathered around. Books and Basilard were nodding as they watched, and, after a moment, Sespian seemed to get it too. Akstyr and Yara didn’t show any signs of enlightenment, but they didn’t seem to care either.

“What are you working on?” Maldynado asked. “I ask because the boss could be out there, bleeding to death somewhere, and unless this is going to help us find her, I think it should wait.” He gazed out toward the lake. At least a half hour must have passed since Amaranthe fell out and the dirigible crashed. If she were able, she should have joined them by now, or at least signaled.

Sicarius was using the back of a knife to draw a straight line down the center of the map, and he didn’t respond. Maldynado huffed in exasperation. He was tempted to take charge and divide up the group for a search, but he didn’t know if anyone would listen to him.

Sicarius circled two towns alongside the line he’d drawn.

He saw which way the craft flew away, Basilard signed. I think he’s trying to figure out where it might be going from the bearing.

“Yes,” Books said, “though we have no guarantee that it’s flying in a straight line in the direction it departed. Or that it’s heading to a destination within the satrapy.”

Maldynado stamped his feet. “Does nobody else care that the boss might be dead or dying somewhere and need our help?”

Basilard frowned at him.

“We all care,” Books said.

“Then why aren’t we–”

Sicarius stood, the movement abrupt enough that Maldynado stepped back and shut his mouth.

“Fifteen minutes,” Sicarius said.

Maldynado frowned. “You want to wait fifteen minutes to search?” He shook his head and started to say more, but Sicarius spoke again.

“Fifteen minutes passed between when the craft shot us down and when it came to check on us.” Sicarius pocketed the map. “We’ll split up and circle the lake to check for her anyway.”

Realization dawned on Maldynado. “You think they got her during that time.”

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Authorpreneurship 101: Shameless Self-Promotion vs. Shameful Self-Promotion

As I’ve mentioned before, selling your first 1,000 books or so is excruciating (unless you’re one of those rare authors who love marketing and think nothing of carrying a crate of your books around in the trunk of your car, so you can foist them upon unsuspecting people at malls and grocery stores). After you sell a thousand, things get a little easier, especially at Amazon where algorithms designed to promote books that are proven sellers kick in. Until then… it’s a hustle.

As an author today, you have to be willing to self-promote if you want to sell books. That’s just the way it is. And, as with most things, there are good ways to go about it and bad ways, or, as I’m calling them shameless ways and shameful ways. The former can earn you new readers and the respect of your peers. The latter…

Unfortunately, there’s a lot of shameful self-promotion going on these days, and these methods can not only hurt your prospects of selling books, but they can also leave bad tastes in people’s mouths. Self-published authors, in particular, seem to be big offenders.

Note: traditionally published authors can be just as guilty of shameful self-promotion, but I believe the real-time sales reporting we indies have access to through CreateSpace, Amazon, B&N, and others makes us a little crazier. We can see exactly how well our book is selling (or isn’t), whereas traditionally published authors can only guess based on sales ranking, so it’s not until they get their royalty statements many months later that they know how well their book did (or didn’t).

So, what are examples of shameful self-promotion? Here are some that I see (trust me, as a blogger and active Twitter person, I probably get more of this than the average reader):

Emailing people who didn’t opt into a newsletter signup on your site or who didn’t otherwise ask to be kept abreast of your releases. Most of the buy-my-book email spam (yes, I’m going to call it that) I’ve received violates the CAN-SPAM Act. While it’s unlikely that there will be legal repercussions, if enough people complain to your internet service provider, you could find yourself with a disabled email account. Regardless, people loathe email spam (oddly, we get more ticked off about this than we do about junk mail in our physical boxes), and you won’t sell any books this way.
Leaving blatant plugs for your book in people’s blog comments. It is possible to leave comments as a way of getting your name out there and, maybe, enticing people back to your site, but you need to add some value to the topic being discussed and find a subtle way to mention your book (if you mention it at all — leaving an awesome comment and simply working in the fact that you’re an author may entice folks to click).
Leaving blatant plugs for your book on other authors’ Facebook pages. This is rude and likely to irk the author, someone who’s already gone through all the hard work of selling those first books and building up a fan base. Said author might actually be in a position to help you in a way that would be far superior to your spammy link, but you’d have to earn her respect first (more on that further down).
Sending people direct messages (ie. check out my site/check out my book) on Twitter. Some people are easy-going on Twitter and they’re open to following people who follow them. But a follow isn’t an invitation to try to sell junk to them. They’re opening the door when you ring the bell, and if you stuff a flyer in their face, they’ll probably slam it shut (and let the pitbulls loose). Instead, if someone opens the door, strike up a conversation. Don’t ask for anything, at least not until you’ve given them something (retweets or plugs for their blog posts/books, for example). Even then, I’d be careful about asking. There are a lot of magnanimous folks out there, but they want to be magnanimous based on their own whims, not because they feel socially obligated.
Joining forums just to promote your book. Over at the Amazon forums, there are a lot of people who will tell you how much they loathe self-published authors, because they’ve had to scroll through so many self-serving plugs (now, the forums are highly monitored, and posts get deleted anyway). If you’re genuinely interested in becoming a helpful part of a community, then, by all means, join a forum (many of them allow signatures with links to your site or your books), but don’t expect to get anything out if it if your only goal is to sell books.
Asking other authors to read/review your book, especially if this is your first contact with that author. Your first contact with anybody shouldn’t be a request for a favor. If an author’s popular enough to have attracted your attention, assume that they receive quite a bit of email, including requests for favors from new authors. They’re also busy writing the next book to keep their fans happy. If you establish an online relationship with the author first, again doing favors for them before thinking of asking anything in return, he or she may be willing to help you down the line, but I still wouldn’t ask them to read your book. I know you think your book is brilliant, but chances are said author is just going to see it as a 10-hour (or however long it would take to read the book) burden on their precious time.
Inventing schemes that are ultimately designed to pressure or trick someone into trying your book. As an example, one fellow on the Kindleboards mentioned that he’d been trying to get a national newspaper to review his book, so he asked his friends to email an editor there, recommending that the paper cover the book. The author eventually received an email back from the editor to the tune of, “Tell your people to quit spamming me.” The author had good intentions and didn’t see his efforts as spam, but now he’s likely blackballed at that paper and will never get a review. Worse, editors talk to other editors, and it’s a smaller industry than you’d think. You don’t want to become known that way.

Okay, so if all these tactics are off the books, what’s allowed? What’s considered shameless self-promotion?

The term for what’s effective (and unlikely to earn you enemies) in the 21st Century is permission-based marketing.

You can promote all you want… to people who have raised their hands and said they want to hear your message. These are your blog readers, your Twitter followers, your Facebook fans, your newsletter subscribers, and the people holding a copy of your book right now. You still won’t want to bludgeon them with marketing messages every day, but they’ve come to you, so you know they’re interested in your work.

How do you get these people to come to your site, your social media pages, and to sign up for your newsletter? Here are some things I’ve done as an author:

Plug your sites and your newsletter at the end of your books (with ebooks and e-readers, in particular, people can finish the story, click the link, and open up a web page right from the comfort of their chosen reading spot). Make sure to answer the what’s-in-it-for-them question (i.e. freebies? cut scenes? character interviews?). No, this doesn’t sell the original book, but it builds and perpetuates your brand. Let me say that again, because it’s important. This is how, as an author of fiction, you build your platform. People will not become fans until they’ve read at least one of your stories from start to finish, so it’s utterly worthless to try to get them to sign up for anything until that has happened.
Give away a free ebook (I started with a short story) to get the ball rolling — People who won’t drop $5 or even $0.99 to try an unknown, untrusted author, will say, “What the heck? It’s free” and download a freebie that sounds promising. If they make it to the end, that’s when you give them your marketing message (as detailed above). Ideally, you have non-free books for them to go on and try, but if you get them on your mailing list or to subscribe to your blog/feed, that’s a good start as well. Then, when you release the next book, you’ll have fans ready to go out and buy it.
Get to know the “connectors” in your niche. These are people who, be they authors or bloggers or social butterflies, have the power to reach a lot of people with their message. If they recommend your book, or perhaps a helpful blog post you’ve written, you’ll get a noticeable amount of attention, far more than you would if Joe Schmoe recommends you (not that we don’t like the Joe Schmoes, too, but the connectors are the ones who can make your career). Do not, as we discussed above, pop out of the blue and ask for a favor from these people. You have to court them. Bring them flowers (leave helpful comments on their blogs), bring them chocolates (retweet their posts on Twitter), and compliment their hygiene (mention them and link to them from your blog), thus to develop a relationship, or at least distinguish yourself from other suitors, before asking for a favor, preferably a both-parties-win favor (i.e. offer to give them a day off blogging by writing up a helpful guest post for their site). You might not even have to ask for a favor. If you’re publishing good content on your blog, they might simply link to you of their own accord.

Not only are these shameless methods of self-promotion going to give you better results than the shameful methods, but, by employing them, you’ll be building your platform and establishing your forever-and-ever brand, not simply selling books.

Related Posts:

Book Promotion Basics — Useful Articles for New Authors
Self-publishing Adventures: 9 Months and 10,000 Ebooks Later…
3 Tips for Self-Publishing Success