S.L. Pierce's Blog, page 3

A New Review of Secrets!

Eva's Sanctuary: Review of Secrets: Secrets S.L. Pierce Sourcebooks Edition 2011 ISBN 9781466337841 Gwen Michaels moved to California two years ago to escape her past ...

My Open Letter to Barnes and Noble

Dear Barnes and Noble,

Why are you having trouble competing with Amazon?  Oh, let me count the ways.  But before I do, this is coming from the heart because I am a Nook User!  I love my Nook but you are making it so hard to continue.  So let's get started on the ways you are not competing.

1) Do you know what I get in my email, every day, from Amazon?  A Kindle Daily Deal. That's right.  Every Day.  To. My. Email.  A book for 0.99 to maybe 2.99, at the most.  Do you know what I get from Barnes and Noble?  An email that says Nook Deals $5 and under. But what is actually in the email?  The latest $12.99 releases!  Seriously?  Is it even remotely possible you aren't aware of this difference?

2) I am a self-published author.  Do you know how easy it is for me to share a link and a few words about my book on Amazon?  With one click.  That's right.  One click and I can share with Twitter, Facebook, or email.  Do you know how I have to share a B&N link?  I have to copy and paste with two different windows open.  Of course I advertise more on Amazon.  And, in case you are dismissing me because I am an indie author, just do the math.  Let's go with a conservative estimate of 10,000 authors selling one book a day at 0.99.  That's nearly 1.5 million dollars a year.  Chump change you say?  Your the ones complaining about losing money.  That's 1.5 million dollars of pure profit.  Just for making a couple of adjustments to your web page.  And, I really believe that is a conservative estimate.  I mean, I sell modestly, but still 3 to 1 Amazon to B&N.

3)  Message boards.  You don't have any message boards on your site, at least that I've noticed.  Do you think you are too high brow for message boards?  Have you been on Amazon?  Ever?  People like them.  We use them.  Get some!

I'm sorry to say B&N, but it feels like you are just barely trying to be in the e-book business.  Now you might be separating your Nook and B&N businesses!  Have you lost your minds?  The future is e-books.  Denying it doesn't make it less true.  So don't make me regret the $249 I spend last year on a Nook.  Don't force me to switch back to Kindle (not that I have anything against Kindle, I just don't want to lay out another $200).  Get in the game!!  Hire some people with foresight, with vision!  Stop fighting change.  It's coming and you will be left behind simply because you don't like it.  

Haunted - Flash Fiction

"...so I said why don't you just get a job!" Jodie laughed, her tightly pulled face forming a grimace instead of a smile. Bob squeezed Mary's hand under the table as she took a another drink of wine. At this rate they would need another bottle for the main course."So, were you there when this homeless person asked for a handout?" Mary asked Tom, before taking another sip."Oh yeah. What is wrong with these people? Always looking for a handout! I mean, they're just lazy, or drug addicts. Right Bob?" Tom said, looking at Bob across the dinner table. Bob just smiled, stuffing some salad in his mouth. "Have you been to that new restaurant, Timer?" Mary said, trying to change the subject."No, but I've heard dreadful things...waiters with piercings and long hair, and the..what...what was that?" Jodie asked, looking over Mary's shoulder."What?" Mary said, turning to look behind her."That glass...on the counter, it just...just moved.""Oh Jodie, stop it," Tom said to his wife. "Ever since she started watching Ghost Hunters she sees things everywhere. That show terrifies her, but she never misses an episode.""I saw that glass move!""Jodie-""You mean," Mary said, looking at her husband, "Tom didn't tell you?""Tell me what?" Jodie said.Mary leaned in and whispered, "This house is haunted.""What!" Jodie gasped, dropping her fork onto her plate."Mary, don't," Bob said."I can't believe you didn't tell them," Mary said. Ignoring Bob, she turned to Jodie and Tom, "There was a family that lived here thirty years ago. A woman with two children. Her ex was a violent con man and he'd been in jail for a year. But, he had hidden some money in this house and when he got out, he wanted it back. She, of course, didn't believe him and wouldn't let him. Well, he just went crazy! Smashed in the window, killed her and the kids." Mary paused. "You really never heard about this?"Tom and Jodie shook their heads."Anyway, they say their ghosts still haunt this place, seeking vengeance for their deaths." Mary leaned back, taking another sip from her glass. "It's all nonsense, of course. Ghosts and what not. Ridiculous!""That's not what you said the other night.""Oh Bob! They don't care about that stuff!""What? What stuff? Tell me!" Jodie demanded."It's silly...but..." Mary glanced around the room as if making sure it was really empty before returning her gaze to Jodie. "A noise woke me, in the middle of the night. It was coming from the hallway bathroom.""The one here, that I just used?" Jodie whispered."Yes. I thought it was the faucet dripping, or maybe the toilet running, so I went down to check. But when I turned on the light, the noise stopped." "That's it?" Tom laughed, his protruding belly bumping the table with each breath.Mary leaned in again, "When I looked in the mirror I saw a woman, instead of my own reflection."The color drained from Jodie's face. "That's..that's...terrible!" she said."The mother was killed in that bathroom," Bob said."Oh stop it, Bob," Mary said, throwing her napkin at him. "It was just a trick of the light and a lack of sleep. That's all. There's no such thing as ghosts.""But there are! You two must move. A haunting is not something to take ligh- what was that?"Above them, a faint sound could be heard. "Mamma, Mamma.""Who knows. This house is old. There's always a noise somewhere," Bob said."But it's a voice," Jodie said."So you hear it too?" Mary said. "Bob can't hear it."Bob shrugged."They said the girl, the daughter, was found holding her favorite toy; a talking baby doll.""That's it," Jodie said, standing and throwing the napkin on her plate. "We're leaving.""But we haven't even finished the salad yet," Tom complained."I am not spending another minute in this house. And," Jodie said, turning back to Mary and Bob, "you two need to hire an exorcist or something. We're not coming back here until you do!""But...you don't have to come here. We can meet for dinner," Mary said."No. No way! You're tainted with the spirits until...until they are put to rest. I suppose I can't stop you and Tom from seeing each other, Bob, considering Tom's your boss, but...just...stay away as much as you can! Tom," she said, turning to face him, "now! Let's go." Mary and Bob watched through the front window as Jodie and Tom's car peeled out of the driveway and down the street."You," Bob said, "are a genius.""Now, now. You deserve some of the credit. If you hadn't overheard Bob telling someone how scared of ghosts Jodie had become since she started watching Ghost Hunters I would never of thought of this.""Are you disappointed you didn't get to use the hologram mirror or the faucet of blood?""A little," Mary smiled."I think we should have a toast to never having to share another dinner with those insufferable snobs.""I'll drink to that," Mary laughed.

If you liked this story, please, share with your friends!  And check out my books at all major e-book retailers.  Many are Free!    

Happy New Year?

Why do I make New Year's resolutions?  I always do, and I never keep them.  Never.  Then I feel bad about not accomplishing my goals.  Even simple ones.  Mine are the same as everyone else's, I suspect.  Eat better, exercise more, be more patient with my kids, finish that project, book, ...fill in the blank.  But I never do.  Not for more than a couple of weeks.  So why do I keep making them?  Some small , optimistic part of me buried under all the cynicism?  And if I don't make any resolutions this year does that mean I have lost all hope?  That this is the best I can do?
Is the real reason I don't keep them because I don't believe I will?  A self fulfilling downward spiral?  Is that just a personality flaw or human nature?

I wish I had some nice happy wrap up to this post, but I don't.  What I would like to know is if any of you actually kept your resolutions last year?  And if so, how?

That being said, if I were going to make resolutions, I would actually only make one:

Be More Disciplined.  It would solve all my 'issues' - eating, exercising, writing, keeping up the house, keeping up with email, interviews, review requests...

The Devil's Game Featured Today!

The Devil's Game is featured today on The Cheap Kindle Daily - please go check it out - leave a comment!

A look inside Rachel Pendelton's Head!

Ever want to get inside Rachel Pendelton's head (lead character of The Devil's Game)?  Stop by here and read the character interview.

Sample Sunday November 20

This is a sample of Manhunt, the first of two short stories in The Hate:

1
Right now there is a massive manhunt for me. There's almost no chance I will be found, but just in case, I need to set the record straight. I know you think you know what happened. I mean, it has been all over the news for days. The country in mourning, shocking act of violence, and on and on. But you only know what they told you. But once I tell you everything, tell you the truth, you'll be thanking me. I'll be a goddamn hero. Not that anyone will admit it. Doesn't matter though. I'll be long gone. So like any good story, I have to start at the beginning. I know you'd prefer me to just cut to the chase. But there are some things you need to know first. Bear with me, you'll be glad you did.
2
First, you should know some things about me. I hate people. I hate small talk. Trying to find something to talk about with a bunch of strangers I'll never see again. No thanks. I like being alone. I'm happy alone. I don't want to be married and pop out a couple of whiny, germ filled kids. I don't want anyone around telling me what to do or making me feel bad about what I am doing; i.e. a husband or boyfriend. If I want to stay up till three in the morning eating double stuff Oreos while watching St. Elmo's Fire then that's what I goddamn well am going to do. If I want to lay in bed till noon or not shower for a couple of days, well, you get the idea. If I feel the need for some companionship i.e. sex, I go pick up a guy at a bar. It's pretty easy because, in all modesty, I'm hot. Not just attractive. An actual stone cold fox, at least to enough of the population to matter. I can say that because I had nothing to do with it. All genetics. All big blue eyes, full lips, blond, tall, and lean. So sex, no problem. And since I don't really like people or small talk, I pretty much scope out the bar for an attractive unattached guy and ask if he wants to go to my place. I've never been turned down. No one spends the night. Last thing I need in the morning is some smelly guy with bad breath bothering me for something I had plenty of the night before. Also, I'm filthy rich. I hadn't planned on ever working for a living, but who knew I'd find something I enjoy so much. What do I do? I kill people. For money. I know what you're thinking, but who gives a shit. Not me, that's for sure. If it makes you feel any better I don't kill kids, no spouses just because a divorce will cost too much (selfish bastards), but other people. It's not hard, partly because of because of my looks. I can get into a lot of places with no questions asked. And partly because I'm ahead of the curve on intelligence. Not a genius, but pretty damn smart. Maybe it goes without saying that I don't have any friends, but I'll say it anyway. I don't have any friends. And I don't mean I don't have any close friends. I don't have any. I think it's because I'm rich and beautiful and that intimidates people. Or, it's because I'm a bitch. I don't care about people's petty problems, I don't take shit from anyone, and I don't tell people what they want to hear. So, why am I telling you all of this and why do you care? Because, I just killed the President of the United States.
The Hate is available from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Smashwords for 99 cents  

Sample Sunday November 13

Secrets excerpt:
Chapter 5
I went to the bedroom got a backpack from the closet and threw in enough stuff for a couple of days. Jack and I couldn't stay here and, these days, even the crappiest hotels required ID and money. I lay on the floor, stomach down, parallel to my side of the bed, reached under my nightstand, and pressed a hidden release button. The decorative piece on the front popped out and I pulled open the hidden drawer. Of course Jack didn't know about this. I'd hoped I would never need it. I removed a bundle of cash, some fake ID's and credit cards, and a small black zippered case. There was also an untraceable gun, but why use it when I had the killers? I put everything back the way it was and returned to the kitchen.I could see he was in a different position then when I left him. And the knife was teetering on the edge of the counter. God, what a stupid mistake. I was out of practice. "Oh, so close. It must be killing you that you almost had that knife," I said, squatting down next to him."You got your information. Just give me the knife," he said."Why would I do that?" I asked smiling. "So you can come back and finish the job?" I wonder what his last thought was before I shot him between the eyes.
Chapter 6
The hard part of killing someone? No, it's not the actual killing. It's the cleanup. What a mess. Cleanup had never been part of my job, but now there was no choice. Luckily the rug had soaked up most of the blood and mess. He rolled up nicely in it. Like a pig in a blanket. Just a little blood on the floor, and on my clothes.The sound of the doorbell startled me. Startled by a doorbell? Man, I was out of practice. What now? Careful not to be seen by anyone who might be looking in the glass surrounding the door, I went into the second bedroom and looked out the window. In front of the house was a black and white cop car. "Shit," I whispered. The doorbell rang again. "Just a minute."I ran to the kitchen and looked around. Blood on the floor and a dead body rolled up in a rug. No way to talk myself out of this one. But I had an idea. I stripped off my clothes and piled them on the rug. I ran to the door and opened it a crack, just enough for them to see I was naked. "Yes?"These two guys were good. They didn't show any reaction, though the short one was suddenly very interested in something on his fingernail. "Sorry to bother you Ma'am, we had a call about possible shots fired. Can we come in?""Shots?" The surprise was real. Someone heard that and called the police. This was a better neighborhood than I thought. "Oh, uh, sure. Could you just give me a second to grab some clothes? I had a little accident in the kitchen.""Sure," the tall one nodded.I closed the door and ran down the hall. Lucky for me Jack cared about the decor of the house and had a runner in the breakfast nook that matched the kitchen rug. I rolled the runner up tight and stuffed it into the end of the rug that was facing out. It wasn't perfect, but on quick inspection, it would look like a large rolled up rug. I opened the refrigerator and grabbed a jar of jelly. Grape! And a plastic bottle. Why didn't I like strawberry? This is really not my day. I dumped the jelly over the blood on the floor and smeared it around a little. I took a clear glass from the shelf, wrapped it in a towel, and tapped it with a rolling pin, then sprinkled the pieces around the jelly and the open end of the rug. After grabbing my bathrobe from the laundry room I returned to the door. "Come on in," I smiled. "What's your name, miss?" The tall one asked as they entered."Gwen. Gwen Michaels.""Did you hear any shots, Ms. Michaels?" "No, I'm afraid not. I haven't been home very long though," I said, walking down the hall. They followed. "Just long enough to drop the jelly," I laughed."Anyone else here?""No, my husband's not home yet," I said."Just you and your husband live here? No one staying with you?""No, just us." Shit. I saw some drops of blood in the hall. How did I miss that? "Oh crap," I said grabbing my finger then a towel from the counter. I find people like it less, subconsciously or not, when women swear. I don't typically clean up my language for anyone, but I did have a dead body on the floor. "What?" they both had their hands on their guns. I wrapped the towel around my hand. "I must've cut my finger on the glass," I said pointing to the drops of blood in the hall. They looked, but weren't very interested. "Mind if we look around?" the tall one again."Not at all."To their credit, they didn't leave me alone. For all they knew I was a crazy lady with a gun. The short one stayed in the kitchen with me while I rinsed imaginary blood from my hand, while the tall one took his time looking around the living room. When he was done he nodded to the short one and he went to check out the bedrooms. They weren't casual and they weren't talking, so neither did I. Forcing small talk is a great way to say something stupid. Something that would make them suspicious. Then again, wouldn't a normal person express some curiosity? Wouldn't they try to get some more information out of the cops? I wasn't sure so I stayed quiet. "Sorry to have bothered you," the short one finally said when they finished looking around. "No problem. Better safe then sorry, I always say." God, could I sound like a bigger idiot? "Could you lock the door behind you?"I tiptoed to the window in the bedroom and peeked out. After they drove away, I double checked the door lock and breathed a sigh of relief.  
Secrets is available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Smashwords

Sample Sunday The Devil's Game

CHAPTER 1
"I found another one.""It's hardly a surprise that you would find something you spend your days looking for," Dr. Gloria Pike said, setting down her pen and leaning back in her chair. They had been through this before."I don't.""Let's not pretend. Aren't we past this?"Patient X didn't answer, and Dr. Pike knew there would be no more talking until she apologized. "Sorry, please continue.""It was a man and woman. Too old to be students. Maybe training. Maybe working on a project. Anyway, it was clear she was the boss, and he was in love with her.""What made you think that?""It was so obvious. The way he kept looking at her. Hanging on every word. His eyes all over her face. Desperate and waiting for something, some sign. Even when he was laughing, moving closer, it was there. He wanted her so much." The patient paused, staring out the window. "His eyes were blue. So blue.""And her? In love with him?""No. Definitely no. It was like a sad little dance. He would move in; she would move away. She never touched him. Even when he gave her many openings.""How did you feel, watching them?"The patient paused as if the answer required thought. "Excited.""Why?""You know why.""Yes, I do. Do you?"No answer."What did you do?" Dr. Pike asked."What I always do. I followed them."
CHAPTER 2
"And the Academy Award for the best animated short film produced by a hungry grad student goes to…" Rachel could hear her heart rushing through her ears. This was it; it had to be. She was the only hungry grad student nominated this year. This was her best film. All her hard work was about to pay off in spades. But why was it taking so long to open the envelope? Wait, why is Gwyneth Paltrow making out with Billy Crystal? Open the envelope! Open the damn envelope! The sound of Billy and Gwyneth giggling into the microphone was slowly replaced by the low hum of an alarm clock. Rachel swore several profanities as her hand slapped at the snooze button in an attempt to put an end to the irritating sound. "Coffee," she said out loud to her empty room. She decided to bypass her usual morning routine of fresh fruit and yoga in light of her heartbreaking loss. Especially since it was probably the only award nomination she would ever get, awake or asleep. As she sat at her desk/art space/kitchen table savoring her heavenly cup-of-joe, her day slowly began to jell inside her brain. Today was Tuesday, which meant video production and calculus. One she loved, the other she loathed. It was heaven and hell in the span of four hours. This was her third attempt at advanced calculus, and without it, there was little hope of getting a full-time position at Mad Media Animation Studio. She was determined to get a "real job" before she turned twenty five, if for no other reason then to hold her head a little higher when her dad asked her if she needed a little extra cash, you know, to help pay for those two "artsy-type" degrees she got. If it weren't for Justin, there would be no hope at all. He had come to her rescue in the second week of the class, sensing her utter panic. He was incredibly gifted at translating calculus. He was also incredibly gifted at annoying her. It was so strange the way he stumbled over every word when he was talking about nothing. But open up a math book and he transformed into a loquacious chatter-box."Speak of the devil," she said when she heard Sonny and Cher sing out "I got you babe" from her cell phone. Justin's ringtone was her private joke. It referred to the movie Groundhog Day and Bill Murray's reaction at hearing it every morning at the same time. Reluctantly, she picked up the phone and punched the little green button."Hey, Justin, you're up early." She could hear his thick nasal breathing on the other end. "I just wanted…um.. Hi Rachel," he said in his usual disjointed manner. "Hi, Justin," she said. "You wanted to ask me something?" she prompted when he didn't respond. "Yeah, I…how are you…I mean are you ready for the test?" Rachel knew she was dipping her toe in dangerous waters with Justin. He was obviously not tutoring her for the fifteen dollars she made him take each time. And he wasn't the type to come right out and ask her for a date so that she could politely refuse him and they could move past it. Oh, no. He just kept the possibility of it dangling out there like a smelly gym sock she was constantly having to politely side-step.I've been completely honest! she told herself over and over. But deep down she knew it was going to end badly. It was going to end badly because as annoying as he was, he had a heart of pure gold. He loved kids and dogs. He was finishing some kind of new teaching program designed for inner-city school kids. He was funny sometimes, though not usually on purpose. And under all that God-awful geekines, he was actually kind of cute.Don't go there, Rachel, she told herself. "Yep, I'm good, Justin. But thanks for calling," she said in an I'm going to hang up now kind of way. "Do you eat? I mean have you…or are you going to eat breakfast…do you want to meet… for coffee?" By the time he had gotten that all out, Rachel had finished her cup and was working on a second. "Is something on your mind, Justin?" Be direct, be honest. "Yeah… well…I mean no…not really." "Well, I'm glad everything's okay. I've got to get going; tons stuff I'm way behind on. But I'll see you later at class, okay?" "Yeah, okay," he stammered. She ended the call not waiting for his reply. She took a deep breath as she felt the caffeine pumping through her veins, accelerating her heartbeat. She walked over to the huge living room window and looked out onto the busy metropolitan street she lived on. It was a gorgeous spring day, perfect for a jog. She knew that her calculus class always went better when she'd had a good workout before hand. It helped keep her calm and focused. Not to mention the fact that she'd wimped out on her yoga this morning. If only she could muster up some motivation. Maybe a jog to the Steam Punk Café for some iced Chai. Yes, that would do it. There had to be a reward in there somewhere or she'd never make it out the door."Oh crap!" she said out loud. Justin. He loved the Steam Punk. As a matter of fact, he was the one who dragged her in there for her very first cup of iced Chai. "I don't drink weed water," she had politely explained under her breath as they stood in line. "Just trust me," he had said to her with an ear-to-ear grin. Since there wasn't much else on the menu that was fit for human consumption, she let him order – and pay. "Here, try this," he said, his puppy-dog face bright with anticipation. God, he could be so annoying! The taste was unlike anything she had experienced. The exotic spices were smooth, sweet, and spicy all at the same time. And after a four-mile jog, there was nothing more refreshing. She gave a heavy sigh as she imagined the sweet luscious taste. "Screw Justin!" she said. "I have every right to do whatever the hell I want!" And, of course she could always pretend she was happy to see him. She began her usual pulling of dirty clothes from the hamper in search of some decent sweat pants and matching gym socks. As she was rummaging, she noticed a pungent order coming from something in her hand. It was a pair of underwear and a bra that smelled bitter and musty, but strangely familiar. She tried to remember the last time she had been out bar hopping. It had to have been at least three weeks. Note to self, she thought, tomorrow is laundry day. As she was closing the door on her way out, she felt hot breath on her neck right before a strong hand grabbed her shoulder.
The Devils Game is available for 2.99  from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Smashwords.

The Fortune Teller and Writer's Block

I have been tweeting a little bit about my serious case of writer's block.  I can usually come up with several ideas for short stories and flash fiction but for the last three weeks, nothing.  NOTHING!!!  So, here is what I am going to do.  Below is what I had hoped would be a fun flash fiction story.  What I propose is you read it and give me suggestions on the ending.  If I use your idea, I'll gift you a copy of one of my books (your choice).  Or you can feel free to just leave a comment on the story, or writer's block in general.
Thanks for playing!


The Fortune Teller
"C'mon, it'll be fun," Beth said, tugging her best friend, Audreys' arm."A fortune teller? Really?" Audrey said."Sure. I did it last year and everything she said came true.""First, no one can see the future. They use your responses to figure you out. Second, even if she was really good it's unlikely to be the same woman. This is the carnival. They probably pick up whoever they can along the way. In fact they probably just rotate out the jobs. She gave you a fortune one day, then was working the ring toss game the next.""No. The lady selling tickets heard me telling Robert I wanted to go to the fortune teller and she said their lady is the real thing. She's been with them ten years. When people find out she's coming they line up to see her.""Whatever," Audrey smiled."Well, we're going. You need some fortune telling.""It sure couldn't hurt," Audrey said. Her business was failing and she had some big decisions to make. Not that she would listen to a stranger, but still, it could take her mind off her troubles for a little while. To Audrey's surprise there was actually a line to see the fortune teller. She had no desire to wait, considering it was hot and crowded but Beth bought them some soda's and let her use her smart phone to play on the internet so she agreed. It's not as if she had anything better to do anyway.Thirty minutes later they entered the fortune tellers tent. It was really small and dark, with just a little round table surrounded by three chairs. The only light came from a round clear ball on the center of the table. The ball wasn't in any holder and Audrey wondered what kept it from rolling off the table. Sitting in the chair opposite the entrance was a small woman dressed in a black caftan dress. Her hair was black and long with streaks of gray, but it was her eyes that kept Audrey from moving forward. They were black and cold and seemed to pierce through Audrey."Don't worry," the fortune teller said, smiling. Beth took Audrey's hand and pulled her to the empty seats. "It's your fortune you want told then," the woman said to Audrey. It wasn't a question. She laid her right hand on the table, palm up, and indicated Audrey should take a hold. Beth nudged her and she grasped hands with the woman. "Ah," she said looking into the crystal ball. "You're business is failing and you are thinking of closing it."Audrey pulled her hand back. "How...how could you know that?""It's what you paid for, isn't it? For me to see things.""But, it's impossible!" She looked at Beth. "You told her. You came here earlier and told her.""I didn't!" Beth said."My dear, I have people waiting. Do you want your fortune read or not. It doesn't matter if you believe it."Audrey looked at the woman, then back at Beth. "C'mon Audrey. It's harmless."Audrey reached out and took the woman's hand again."You need to keep your business going," she continued, looking back into the crystal ball. "If you can just hang on a few more months, everything will turn around."Audrey thought of the big contract she had been waiting on. She was sure it had fallen through and they had gone with someone else but what if..."And, oh, how nice. You will meet the love of your life in the next twenty four hours."This time Audrey smiled as she pulled her hand back and stood up."Thanks anyway miss, but now I know you're a fraud.""Oh, and why is that?""Because I am already married."