Rae Hachton's Blog, page 4

I'm Spending Valentine's Day with Marcus and Ellie. Here are a few general updates.

This is going to be a very exciting year. SO far, it's off to an awesome start. 

My Lovely Betas are reading Pretty in Black (the NEW edition) and providing much needed feed back so I can get that book whipped into its final shape and  I'm currently rewriting Black Satin. I don't wanna sound like THAT WRITER (You know, the arrogant one?) but I love it and  the STEAMPUNK scenes are jumpin’. 

I'm just super proud of myself for sticking with this and seeing it through. Because I CAN DO THIS. THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT! EVERMORE IS GONNA HAPPEN THIS YEAR. IT HAS TO. 

First things first, a BIG SHOUT OUT TO MY AMAZING BETA READERS!! 

LOL you guys are hilarious! You definitely aren't offending me. I owned up to it. The book SUCKED and now it sucks less. Maybe I CAN write now. And I'm happy about that. 

And I'm pretty darn excited right now because my target audience is enjoying this new book that I've worked my butt off to create and this is a good sign. *HAPPY DANCE* 

DEAR READERS, 

I CANNOT WAIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

After my BETAS are done reading the book and I get it whipped into something closer to its final edition, I'm sending it out on another test run to a couple of my blogger/author friends :D 

Writing and producing awesome read-worthy novels takes time and I've learned that the magick doesn't truly emerge until the second or third draft and it gets even more magickal during the editing process.

I'm super uber determined to deliver an awesome series no matter what it takes.

Yeah, so I might've screwed up a few years ago because I was too young and naive at this to know any better, but now that I do, I'm gonna do better.

And while every now and then I feel like I'm falling behind while other authors are moving forward with their new books, I am beyond thrilled that I will finally be able to showcase my own writing skills and talents in a much better light, now that I've had about 4 years to ponder it and all, because writing is a craft, not a race; I'd rather have one really good book series than fifteen barely mediocre novels with my name slashed across the cover.

It's way too easy to fall prey to first level creativity when you're a novice, and that's pretty much what happened to me, but I don't want to be a victim, I just want to correct the issue and not emulate another popular series, especially since I have my own voice—and I've learned how to refine it.

So, this is where we're at.

Thank you for being so damn patient with me; it means everything.

I'll be honest and say that I don't have a cover designer, editor, agent, marketing/PR team, assistant, or anything LOL. I'm 100% solo, which means that yes, I am my own publisher. I am the whole team. So, #yolo

(But we will have new covers and they won't exactly suck!) And I'll probably throw a virtual party when this is all over and there will be digital cupcakes and shiny new books and giveaways.

Also noted:

Angela James, Harlequin's editorial director for the digital imprint Carina, made some spectacular publishing predictions that I LOVE!

READ THESE SNAZZY PREDICTIONS

Firstly, she says that she predicts that paranormal romance will “be back on the upswing.” Yes! YES! A thousand times YASSSS.

Vampires were never dead, they're only dormant.

Secondly, she predicts that longer and lengthy books will be more in demand this year because readers are wishing to spend more time with the characters they enjoy. I couldn't agree more! I am totally in the longer book camp and everything I'm writing is tripping over the 100,000 word count line.

And a third prediction she makes is that readers may begin to favor and/or seek out romances that deliver a fun-filled/enjoyable experience so they can add variety to the angsty over-the-top drama/meladrama books that have been more popular in previous years.

*Jumps up and down* I killed the angst! I killed the angst! I killed the angst! Someone give me a pink balloon.

OH WOWNESS.

Hahahaha, if she's right, then this means my crystal ball is working too. (Cackles) Because who has a combination of all three of these things in a 4 book series? I DO.

(And if anyone out there is wondering, yes, I have major ADD and I know I make it rather obvious, but here is an extra scoop of obviousness.)

 

 

 

 

 

Google Play is Bae—How to get your hands on Pretty in Black

Google Play™ is absolute Bae. 

And I've noticed that many of you have been having trouble getting your hands on the books in the Pretty in Black series. Allow me to explain how it works, in case you're not aware. 

As far as I know:

YES, right now the first book in the series is listed for FREE, but Google Play™ requires you to have a form of payment listed on your account—either a credit, debit, or gift card—before you can download any content, and they may or may not charge a small delivery fee. But other than that, you should have no trouble and should have a $0.00 charge. If you're experiencing issues with this, (and trust me, I understand how frustrating this can be) please contact Google Play™ and someone nice will help you, I promise. 

Now, for those of you who do not have Credit or Debit cards—I'm talking to you, my  ☆TEEN ☆ readers—there is another way! 

(I wrote the book FOR YOU so it would be a shame for you not to get your hands on it.)

If your Mom, Dad, Uncle, Aunt, Santa, whoever gave you money this year for Christmas or Holiday season, or if you have a birthday, allowance, or any special event coming up where you will be able to get your hands on some monies , or, even if you have a job but still don't have a credit/debit card—There are GOOGLE PLAY™ GIFT CARDS! 

I'm providing a link down below. Click on it and check it out! Find your country's specific information by pulling up the website, selecting where you live, and it will tell you WHERE to buy a gift card! I believe in most places, you can buy them online and in certain stores, depending on your area. 

Once you get the card, you can add it to your Google Play™ account, and voilà! You will now be able to read the book and its sequels if you wish. 

☆  INFORMATION ON HOW TO GET A GIFT CARD! ☆ 

ALSO READ BALANCE USAGE & RESTRICTIONS, Just in case

☆  I really hope this helps! ☆ 

Welcome to Pine Hills, South Carolina

A photo posted by RaeHachtonYA (@raehachtonya) on Jan 7, 2016 at 9:51pm PST

Excerpt:

"Pine Hills, South Carolina,—a small dismal town buried between Savannah, Georgia and Charleston. Spooky. Haunted. An old town legend swore that ghosts from Savannah had drifted into Pine Hills and that they now slumbered between our city walls. I don't know how much of that is true, if any, but our town is one gigantic burial ground and we have more cemeteries than bible belt Alabama has churches.

I braved the eeriness of the early morning fog on my way to school and swept underneath an Oak tree drooping in the pale green cobwebbed curtains of Spanish moss."

Here's where we're going! In the new version of Pretty in Black, Eleanor lives in Pine Hills, South Carolina! What do you guys think?!

▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪

{ Author commentarty: On Setting }

In a perfect world, I would've gotten all of this right the first time.

But thank goodness it has happened this way instead, imperfectly imperfect, because it wouldn't've been much fun otherwise!

Setting is uber important to a story world, and it only took me about 4 years to finally figure that one out! But man oh man how much different a story will be when the setting changes.

One of the very first things I thought about when rebuilding the Pretty in Black world was the setting. It had to be fabulous or else. In the original version, it doesn't have a setting and everything takes place in a vague space. That definitely had to change. I hadn't given it much thought before, but this time, I searched everywhere for a great location in which this story world could emerge. It wasn't until I'd searched everywhere that I finally decided to look into my own backyard.

It's so strange how sometimes as artists we can overlook our own personal life influences, which sometimes, strangely enough, is the very thing needed to bring a project alive.

I grew up in the south and I'd been to Savannah, GA and South Carolina on many occasions. Why hadn't I realized how perfect this was as a setting before?? It's absolutely stunning.

Especially the Spanish moss and how it looks eerie all the time, the many and many graveyards, and the wonderful gothic architectural structures. It had everything perfect for this story world.

I wasn't sure what town in SC to set the story, and after some research, I decided it would be best to create a fictional town. This would give me the freedom to build it in the best way to suit my already existing story and it would also allow me to incorporate the existing story elements without having to alter too many details.

So I sat down, figured out where this town would most logically be, and drew it on the map I'd printed out.

But even this had a lot of kismet going on because incidentally, my fictional town if it existed would only be an hour drive away from Charleston, which incidentally is connected to some intriguing Edgar Allan Poe lore which I included in the new version of this book! And I'm saving that story for an upcoming post :)

Stay tuned.

♡ HAPPY NEW YEAR + THE FIRST CHAPTER TO THE NEW EDITION OF PRETTY IN BLACK ♡

THIS IS FOR YOU, DEAR READER. ♡ ♡ ♡  May 2016 bring forth your wildest dreams and be filled with happiness. HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! 

I posted this here as I have on Wattpad so you could see that I haven't changed anything,  (I'm actually adding stuff), and get a little sneak peek teaser about what I mean when I say *delicious content.* Ahem—Marcus has somehow gotten hotter, and more bold! 

PLEASE KEEP IN MIND: This is an unedited excerpt from the Pretty in Black rewrites so there might be typos/errors. 

☆  ☆  ☆ 

Marcus Marble

Eleanor

I NEVER REALLY WANTED TO DIE. But I followed through anyway. The pain in my heart was excruciating, and death was beautiful.

Second week of September and that afternoon sunset was breathtaking. That sunset was the last image I wanted my eyes to take in. How the light gave a dreamy glow to everything.

My hair billowed in the autumn wind, creating auburn waves. I fell onto my knees, beneath the pine tree, in front of an ocean of graves and dead people. I wanted to be forever asleep.

The blade glimmered in the sunlight. As I drew in my last breath, I wished for the death keepers to unite me with my dark prince; even if this was in the bottomless pits of hellfire, I would burn with him and be happy.

I lay down beneath the cold stone and ran the blade across both wrists. I felt the fire, the ache, the sting. My pulse pounded, my life poured out of me as I waited for the darkness.

Silence.

Death was like sleeping without dreaming, but still being consciously aware. I expected something more to happen. A light to shine. A tunnel to tumble down. A dark angel to appear and take me away. To fall into an ocean of fire. To be condemned by God.

I no longer had a body. I was spirit. But if I would've had a hand, then the kiss I felt on that hand would've been real. If I'd had ears, then the whisper I heard would've been real words.

Wake up, sleeping girl.

A guy's voice. I felt him run his fingers through my hair.

His touch awakened me. My eyes fluttered open and fused with his.

I knew it. He was the death angel sent here to collect me because he was too damn gorgeous to be human. Long black hair draped over his dark green eyes and his ruby lips parted in a sigh—a sound I wanted to hear him make again.

My stomach muscles clenched.

He hovered so far over me his silver raven necklace swung back and forth like a pendulum, the royal red jewel on the blade glinting.

I leaned up on my elbows. “You just scared me half to death.”

He pushed up onto his feet and ran splayed fingers through shoulder length hair; it feathered back with a violet sheen. “You should be thrilled you're halfway there.”

He extended that hand to me. The bones of his sturdy fingers clasped through mine as he helped me to my feet. His hand was hard, but smooth, like marble.

He smelled like dark floral—bleeding pomegranates and crimson stained roses withering in wet soil.

He took a step back, into the elongated shadows of the tombstones. His black dress shirt—untucked and disheveled—dipped in a V, displaying his collarbone. If there was any confusion about whether or not I was alive, that was all cleared up now.

He swiveled the silver ring on his thumb back and forth and I noticed how his black nails tapered into perfectly sharp points, dangerous but beautiful in their slender elegance.

He had this towering strength about him that made me imagine he was the Lord of the Dead, here to reap his Persephone. He could've dragged me away to the Underworld and I would've been more than okay with that.

“You've been here this whole time?” I accused. “Who are you, anyway?”

He studied me from the corners of his eyes, up and down. “Who do you want me to be?”

Why could I suddenly not think straight? Any normal response I might've had broke apart and scattered in a million different directions, making me a groveling idiot. I had half an inclination to bounce up and down on my toes, and it wasn't only because I was an ex-cheerleader.

It took a minute to assimilate what'd happened. If my reaction to him was any indication, then I was definitely not dead. I'm pretty sure dead girls didn't squirm all over in a good way when a hot guy ogled them, regardless of how strange and unusual the situation. But it didn't hurt to double check, right?

My fingers circled my wrist where the slice marks would've been and I dropped my gaze to the ground in search of the blade. Maybe the moonlight would illuminate it.

Talk about awkward.

It wasn't there. There was no blood, no blade, no ache. It'd never happened. I must've fallen asleep in the cemetery and dreamed the whole scenario.

He stroked his throat, right above his Adam's apple, directing my attention to his neck. I gulped, trying to swallow away the urge to attack him with my mouth.

I crossed my arms over my chest. “What are you doing here?”

A breeze whistled through the graves, unearthing sweet decaying flowers and wet moss. He swooped his thumbs underneath his belt loops and curled them forward as he wove his way around the gravestones, roving closer. “Curious,” he answered.

I took a step back. “Curious about what?”

He glided forward, forcing me to hop onto the cracked stone pathway. “You're here.”

I stumbled. He caught me in his strong arms and steadied me. My breath hitched as his eyes locked with mine again. “You followed me here?”

The way he looked at me made me smolder. It was hard to ignore.

“I wouldn't use the word followed.” His hands were warm against my chilled skin. And I hated how good it felt.

“Okay creep. You can leave now.”

He shook his head, refusing to go anywhere. “No I can't. If you do anything crazy, I might have to stop you.”

I might have to stop myself.

“What I do with my life is none of your business.”

He slanted his head, eyebrows furrowing, but eyes contemplative. “Okay,” he agreed suddenly. He let me go and began taking small steps back, his eyes still affixed on me. “I'll leave then.”

“Good.”

He halted and parted his legs, anchoring himself in place. His eyes glimmered, the green shining with sparkles of gold. “But only under one condition,” he amended.

I was only a few feet away from the wrought iron gate; why wouldn't my feet move? “Oh yeah? And what's that?”

“If you kiss me,” his deep voice proposed.

Oh God. I was already thinking about it. “Excuse me?” I scoffed. “I don't know you.” I reached down, grabbed my backpack, and pivoted, shuffling away from him while trying hard not to smile, or let him see me smile.

“You didn't think it would be that easy to get me to leave, did you?” he called after me.

Keep walking, Eleanor. Keep your feet moving in the opposite direction.

Damn it. I lost my resolve and spun around to face him. “I can't kiss you,” I lied, resting one hand on the gate. “I have a boyfriend.”

His eyebrow arched. “Do you tell him everything? He doesn't have to know about us.”

I squinted my eyes at him, but the corners of his lips twitched in an almost grin.

“I'm officially leaving.” I pulled open the gate, ready to make my escape. “You don't even know me.”

In three long strides, he erased the distance between us. “Yes I do.” His beautiful hand clamped down on mine. “You're Ellie Piper and you fall asleep in graveyards.” He gracefully eased my hand away from the cemetery gate and held it in his.

“That's not enough to go on.”

“It's perfect.” He pulled me away from the gate; I hadn't even realized we were moving until I was several feet away from where I'd been.

“How do you know my name?” I asked.

He lowered my hand and bended his knee, his boot kicking behind him as he reclined against the tree. “You carved it into your notebook with an exacto knife.”

“You enjoy digging in people's belongings, I see.”

“You were here for a while, so . . .”

“What time is it?”

“Half-past midnight,” he said, without looking at any clock.

“Shit,” I muttered to myself. “Nick is going to kill me.”

Curiosity flickered in his eyes and interest rose in his voice. “Who's Nick?”

“My dick headed stepfather.”

I could've sworn I saw his muscles relax. “He can't tell you what to do, you know.”

“Yeah, but he makes my life a living hell. He's only twenty-nine and thinks he's my boss.”

His eyes widened and he swung around the tree, keeping his eyes on mine. “So don't go home,” he suggested, his gaze falling to my lips. “Stay here with me.”

My stomach tingled and the sensation shivered up my arms and down my spine. I pinched myself to make it stop. Crap.

Ellie, don't even consider it.

He took a deep breath and exhaled as he held his hand out for mine. “Dance with me.”

I jutted my hip and narrowed my eyes at him. “You are really bold. Do you know that?”

His eyebrows drew together in the middle as he tilted his head to the side, making it hard for me to focus on what I was trying to say.

“Continue,” he motioned with his hand after a silent moment.

“You don't get a kiss,” I said, attempting to rebound from the distraction standing in front of me. “—so you go for the next best thing.” But the agitated effect I'd been going for fell from my voice.

“Let's just talk then,” he offered.

“Talking is over.”

“Seriously. We'll have five hours to get to know each other.” He smiled and chills shot through me again. My heart flipped. “And then you'll dance with me.” He pressed off the tree and took two steps closer. I found myself unable to move away from him, and more than that, I didn't want to.

With gentle fingers, he brushed my hair back and planted a moonflower behind my ear. I couldn't remember the last time anyone had been so kind to me. Staying here would be better than going home. Way better.

My eyes lifted to his. “You didn't tell me your name.”

His lips upturned. “It's Marcus Marble.”

And I stayed. I kind of adored his smile. And I really loved his eyes.

 

†

 

I lay beside him on a grave, below an unmarked and unadorned tombstone, next to the iron cemetery gates—black and bedighted by beauty.

His black hair blended with my red hair. Even our legs touched; the length of his thigh rested against mine. I didn't mind the coolness of the wet grass or the roughness of the stone. Not when I was lying here like this with him. I felt . . . strangely calm, even though I shouldn’t’ve. His feet flirted with mine, entwining together like it was the most normal thing; if I were being completely honest, I liked it. I might've encouraged it a little.

His eyes glistened. I'd never seen eyes that bright or that green. His were emblazoned by a dark symphony. When he blinked, his lashes spread below his bottom lid like satin spider legs; a million wishes could be made upon them in exchange for these nightmares.

“Ellie?”

The way he whispered my name in a soothing dark voice like he'd known me his whole life warmed my blood.

He toyed with the black lace of my shirt sleeve. “Why are you hurting inside?”

I wasn't sure I liked how he already knew the darkest part of me. No one was supposed to know about this. It was my secret.

He drew circles on my skin, making me shiver.

“How can you presume to know what I feel?” My nostrils flared.

“Because. I can see it.”

That was it; he'd said enough. I was definitely leaving for good this time. I untangled myself from him and leapt up.

“You can take all your cheap flattery and go use it on someone else, because it's not working on me.” I pirouetted around. “You think you can just follow me around and say lines of bullshit to get me to kiss you?”

He leaned up on his elbow, angling his head in my direction. His lips parted to speak, but I cut him off.

“I don't think so. I don't even know who you are, and right now, I don't want to know you. All I know is that you've got five seconds to get lost before I get extremely angry and kick your ass.”

He laughed a little, a grin moving across his face as he slowly stood and paced a few feet away, putting his body weight against the tree. “Are you mad at the entire world, or just a few people?”

I let out a heated breath. His smile infuriated the hell out of me. Who did he think he was, anyway?

I don't know what happened. One second I was standing there angry at him, and in the next, my feet were lifting off the ground—to leave, I was sure of it—but my legs betrayed me. Instead of turning around and hightailing it out of that cemetery, I found myself running toward him, unthinkingly. And during my sprint, it occurred to me that I wasn't sure if I was going to choke him to death or lock lips with him so I could erase that maddening smile of his.

His shoulder eased off the tree, his face going blank as I dashed for him.

I threw my arms around his damned neck and raised up on the tips of my toes, reaching for his lips. His head dipped, arms wrapped around my waist, and I pressed my mouth to his, giving him a fast, angry kiss.

He smelled warm and sweet—earthy, and I didn't want to let go. And oh God, he was kissing me back. Lips moving eagerly against mine like he'd been waiting on this moment forever. Where had he learned to kiss like that?

It didn't matter, because this, right here, wasn't happening. Couldn't happen.

Dizzy and out of breath, I shoved myself away from him and inched backward, slowly retracing my steps.

He stood straighter—taller—like he'd had an epiphany. He looked lost but riveted at the same time.

“There,” I exhaled. “Will you leave now?”

His neck and face flushed pink, eyes glazed. “No,” he confessed in that deep voice of his as he quickened his step, moving in for me. His tensed arms reached and encircled my waist again, pulling me back in to him. “I'm just getting started.”

He drew me against him; I broke out in goosebumps as the cool metal of his rings slipped over the nape of my neck; his fingers entangled in my hair. He dipped his head again and his lips glissaded velvet smooth over mine and he picked back up where we'd left off, continuing his frenzied assault on my mouth.

I grasped him back, tangling my fingers in his long black hair. No one had ever kissed me like this. We were both breathless, but he didn't let me go. I didn't want him to let me go. He groaned and kissed me deeper.

My heart pounded.

Both his hands cupped my face as he broke our kiss; his thumbs stroked my cheeks as he inched back so he could see me. His eyebrows raised and I mirrored them, arching my own like question marks, interpreting the action as shall we continue?

Oh God, yes.

His eyes crinkled in the corners, and, keeping his hands on my face, he dashed back in, our lips fusing together sweeter than they had before.

This was the kiss of all kisses.

“What am I doing?” I asked between kisses.

His lips smiled against mine. “What are you doing?”

I had no idea. All I knew was that being in his arms felt like a wilting flower being brought back to life—mysteriously and hauntingly romantic. I didn't care that he was a stranger.

I drew his bottom lip into my mouth, teasing it with my teeth, and it drove him wild. With a grunt, his hands dropped to my waist and he lifted me against him. I wrapped my legs around his hips and he spun me around, pressing me against the tree.

He mumbled something unintelligible, and then his lips possessed mine again. Damn. He was going to give me a heart attack.

Each time he even thought for half second that I was going to break our contact, he kissed me harder, faster, his lips demanding I stay. I noticed this and used it for my benefit. I laughed between kisses and he caught on.

“Not funny,” he said, grinning.

“Yes.” I nodded. “It is.”

The rhythm of our lips slowed as he kissed me tenderly, which made me react to him in a whole other way.

I let out an embarrassing sound.

His lips descended to my neck, kissing me once, twice, before resting at the base of my throat.

“Wow.” I let out a long breath. My legs wobbled as my feet found the earth again. “Who are you?”

“I thought you had a boyfriend,”—he quivered—“and you didn't want to know me.” He inched back, keeping one arm extended, palm pressed against the tree.

“I do. Have a boyfriend.”

His eyes swept up to mine as he peered at me through the curtain of his dark hair. “You certainly didn't push me away.” He half-smiled, half-smirked like he knew something, a secret, which I didn't. And I wanted to know his secret so damn badly.

“I should have.”

I gazed at him as I walked backward, nearly tripping over an uneven stone. He grinned and my face burned. I forced myself to tear my eyes away from him and pivot around.

What the hell just happened?

I was still thinking about that kiss as I moseyed toward the gate.

He chased after me. “Wait a second.”

I glanced back.

“When can I see you again?”

My lips parted, and I was about to speak when I realized I didn't have an answer for him. “What makes you think I wish to meet with you again?”

He whirled me around, backing me against the perishing angel statue in the cemetery. My pulse spiked as his hips slanted against mine.

He raised my hands above my head and pinned them there so I couldn't go anywhere. Not that I wanted to. I could've gazed into those green eyes all day.

And, oh goodness gracious, he had a dimple in his chin. A sexy ass dimple that I wanted to kiss. I stared at it. He shifted my hands into a one arm grip, and brought a thumb to stroke his chin subtly.

“What're you staring at?” he asked, his voice going musical near the end of the question as if he already knew the answer.

I bit my lip and grinned, returning my gaze to the indention in his jaw.

“Stop,” he said, lips curving into a smile as his face reddened. Him? Blushing?

“Make me,” I retorted.

He leaned in and I thought he was going to kiss me again. His voice dropped low and dark. “I bet I could make you do a lot of things.”

Mmm. I bet he could too. He already was. But if I dared him, it'd only be for my benefit because I was loving every sweet torturous moment of this.

“Like what?” I challenged.

“I got my kiss, didn't I?”

My blood burned and I wanted to smack him. What an arrogant, beautiful bastard.

He swept his hair back. “If you deny me,” he said, positioning his feet and angling his waist so our hips were partially touching, “I'll keep you here with me all night.”

If he kept me here, it would definitely not be against my will. I was all too eager to stay.

He rubbed his lips together and stared at mine, his eyes slowly raising to my nose. I hated my nose, dotted in freckles that spread out beneath my eyes. And he was staring at it like it was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen.

“If you can find me,” I wagered as my cheeks flushed, “you can see me again.”

His grin widened and I realized what I'd just suggested. Great going, Eleanor. You are basically giving the guy permission to stalk you.

My heart certainly didn't care, nor did other parts of me. My brain would have to get over it, if I could locate it, that is.

Marcus was more than satisfied with that answer. He gazed at me for the longest moment and I wondered if he was going to wait until my heart faltered before giving me room to breathe or think again.

He glanced down, his eyes tracing over the curve of my lips; and then they raised back to mine and rested there until I couldn't stand it. I squirmed beneath him, but he wasn't letting me go anywhere.

No guy had ever used only his eyes to flirt with me before. He didn't say a word; he didn't need to—his eyes said everything.

He finally loosened his hold and slowly inched away from me.

Whoa.

I took a glorious inhalation of cool air. Breathe, Ellie. Breathe.

With a sweep of his arm, he motioned toward the gate, giving me my exit, as if to say challenge hereby accepted.

I gathered my belongings, once more, and slipped through the cemetery gate, deliriously wondering what in the world had happened.

All I knew was that, whoever he was, he definitely had my attention. 

Pretty in Black is Getting a Revamp

FIRST
. . . 



Because
this might be one of my favorite parts of the new version of this
book.













































































You've already heard the “Bad” news

EVERMORE didn't release in October. Its release has been hereby postponed and I will not attach a set release date for it until the final version is in my hands.

But rest assured, this book is still releasing. Its messy third draft is waiting patiently for me to finish the rewrites of the first three books.

MY INBOX IS STILL ACCEPTING HATE MAIL, Just so you know. 

The GOOD news

Pretty in Black is getting a major revamp. Yes, you heard that correctly. Too late to protest and try to stop me because I've already rewritten the book and Black Satin rewrites are in queue. 

I've been kicking my own derrière since early April of this year and teaching myself how to write, but, But, BUT! You guys, this could be awesome.

In one of the reviews I've received from readers, I remember one back in 2011/2012 that remained with me.

To NOVELS ON THE RUN — I'm copying and pasting your blog comment here; I hope you don't mind. I've read it at least a hundred times, and every time I feel like tossing in the towel, I re-read it.

I do understand the mixed opinions. This is why I say it has awesome potential this series. Sometimes a cuddle from a very good editor will make a massive difference. It has that ‘something’. I didn't go crazy on my rating and review as it does need a snuggle from an editor, but the basis is WOW!

Thank you for being one of the first original readers of this book.

-

I want to take the basis of what I originally created and breathe new life into it. It's finally getting that cuddle because I decided to snuggle my own damn book, LOL.

And the e-mails, comments, and reviews I've received from all of you have inspired me to stick it through.

And I'm not just talking about the good reviews (the ones who rated it higher than 3 stars deserve cupcakes and a party, because how?) or even the semi-good reviews. It's the other reviews that have helped me most. The 1 star and no star reviews. I'm not calling them negative reviews because they can't be negative if they're helping me create a positive.

THANK YOU, not only for seeing the potential in this series, but for pointing out where it lacks, and why you hated it and threw it across the room, or all the reasons you almost loved it. And the ones who do love it — you guys are my ROCK STARS.

I know that a book will never please 100% of the people, but I want to be able to sleep better at night knowing I've put the best possible work of mine out there in this world, and that the ones who do like it have the best possible version of it. Of course there's still going to be people who don't like it, that's only natural, but I have to like it. If the author doesn't like her own book, something is wrong. And that's when I woke up in the middle of the night and the little voice in my head went change it!

If I didn't believe in it, and if I didn't think there are people out there who still believe it it, I would not be putting in these sleepless nights, I would not keep scratching stuff out and starting over and rewriting, and rewriting, and rewriting. I would've spent my summer doing something else instead so I could feel like a person who has all her crap together.

But I believe in my story so I'm putting in the work and giving it the polish up that it needs. Deserves. Bare minimum isn't good enough.

I wrote Pretty in Black at a relatively young age (I think I was 19?) when I didn't know anything about writing at all.

Do I regret it? No, because I have something here I can turn into something that might be kind of awesome when I'm done with it. If I'd never taken that first journey out of fear it was going to suck, I wouldn't have a book series I can work with now. I've learned things along the way, things I would've never learned had I been afraid.

I allowed it to suck. I admit it.

The Truth is, it's not really that good, but it can be. It can at least be better than it is.

For those of you who loved it the first time around, I can't wait to see what you think about the updated version. Perhaps your opinion won't change!

A review of what I've done so far: 

My number one goal was to erase any lingering similarities to (apparently) Buffy and Twilight.

Boom. Done. 

(It still seems vaguely Twilight-y to me without actually being Twilight. I've eradicated as much Twilight as possible, considering it's a lo and behold “vampire” book, but there came a point when I was like, enough already, SM doesn't own vampires.)

Second goal: Show the building and development of Marcus's and Eleanor's relationship, but also their individual lives whenever they're not together — basically round out their characters more. I've discovered a series of new exciting things which I didn't know about them! Also dates. They HAVE to go on dates so we can steer away from InstaLURV.

(There's a whole post I'm writing on InstaLURV.)

I'm keeping the Poe and Shakespeare references, and I'm also bringing out more of the awesome Greek Mythology upon which a lot of it is based. Also, I've decided to differentiate the Evermore from the vampire. The Evermore isn't a vampire. The Evermore is The Evermore, descendant from the vampire. I'll try my best to be super clear on what this means this go around.

The challenge of rewriting this book presented itself when I had to find a way to keep Pretty in Black the same but different at the same time.

I didn't want you to re-read the books and go: This isn't Pretty in Black! This isn't what I read before!

I wanted it be recognizably Pretty in Black, so no, of course I'm not changing everything. In fact, a lot of the original “scenes” remain the same, but are extended and have been repurposed to actually matter. Oh yeah, and they're actually scenes now instead of vignettes or whatever.

The story line of the series has not changed either. All of the events are the same. It'll be more like reading the same book, but with extra, more delicious content.

No worries. If you've bought/downloaded the e-books, you will not have to purchase them again. There will be automatic updates, and the new version will download to your device. (At least this is what I'm counting on. We'll figure it out because we're awesome :)

So if you've read Pretty in Black and you've concluded that you hate it, you could consider not deleting it from your device right away. You still might hate it the second time around, but then again, you might not. I dunno, but possibilities are awesome, right?

I CANNOT WAIT UNTIL YOU GET THIS NEW VERSION IN YOUR HANDS!

I want to share with you all the things. But I'm only allowed to tell you very little at this time. I can only reveal a few changes to the manuscript but as soon as I'm able, I'm gonna blow up my Facebook, Twitter, Instagram — every social media sphere as possible — talking about this book! 

Here's my FIRST FAVORITE! — We'll get to see Eleanor cheer! We'll get to see her fly through the air! And do awesome tricks that I've been googling and studying all summer long.

SECOND FAVORITE! — The new world building for NEVERMORE! It's an awesome place now! 

My OTHER SECOND FAVORITE! — The real world setting (meaning the normal everyday world that Eleanor lives in before she gets to delve into the fantasy world of Nevermore) is — Pine Hills, South Carolina!

Picture Southern Gothic — drooping Spanish moss, ravens and crows, crumbling estates, lots of cemeteries, ghost stories and town legends, and Gothic architecture.

I don't know why setting this book somewhere was so hard for me the first go around when this atmosphere is nearly a skip and a hop away from my own backyard.

(Yes, I'm totally from the south! Born and raised. And I totally speak with a southern accent!)

The world of Pretty in Black is brand new and I'm over the moon in love with it.

If you want to get a sneak peek of what might be in store, and you like images, I invite you to check out the new Pretty in Black Pinterest board :)

Follow Rae Hachton's board Pretty in Black 2016! on Pinterest.





Oh! And don't forget to sign up for my mailing list and add this edition of Pretty in Black on Goodreads because it's going to be significantly different in surprising ways :) Pretty in Black on Goodreads

And if you're curious about how much the book has changed, here is a number visual:

THE ORIGINAL






THE NEW VERSION 






 





INSANE, I know. :) :) :) 

In case you can't see the numbers above, it says

ORIGINAL : 52,872

NEW VERSION: 167,030 (it says it's 163 above, but this has changed since I wrote the post :) 

 

 

 

 

My writing Life so far: a letter, written by my future self, about my past self, and addressed to my present self. (Hope that makes sense.)

Here's how it will happen: 

Write a book called Pretty in Black by candlelight during the 2011 April blackout after storms hit the south.

Have zero clue what you're doing and jump in there and self-publish it anyway. (And it's a terrible book. Ugh. But you're an adventurer and you're daring, on the good days.) 

Put it on a blog tour in 2012 and have a handful of bloggers refuse to tour it, (can you blame them?) but everyone else gives it 3 stars or more; overall, the tour will turn out to be great and many will think it has potential. You'll even make awesome blogger-author friends along the way.

Secretly be writing book two while book one is still on tour and zip off the file right after you're done, because you know, it totally works that way. (NOT, and you will realize the HARD WAY what rewriting actual means in 2015.) 

Write book 3 that same summer and publish it also.

Make like maybe $50 if even that much the entire year.

In 2013, you will write another book, but it'll still be bad and this time you won't really tell anyone about it, promote it, or do anything a real author should even do. And 2013 will pass, but it will be a very rough year for you.

2014 will arrive and be mostly a repeat of 2013. Another book will be randomly published and you will be writing the fourth book of PIB. At the end of 2014, you promise yourself that 2015 will be your year. You also promise the readers who've been graciously reading your series that book 4 will release in 2015.

The sunlight shines upon you girl in 2015 because oh my goodness you have a LOT more readers this year. And you've made money from your writing.

Book 4 doesn't release and your readers are sad, but you realize this is a good thing because for whatever reason, these amazing people actually like what you've created. And they will be the stars in the dark sky that will get you through this, because —

Things will darken (a little) near the summer of 2015 because you realize how terrible your books really are, but you promise yourself that you will make them better.

Launch a rewrite of the entire series thus far in July 2015.

Cry, write, eat to survive. Cry some more. And then smile, smile, squeal because You've DONE IT. You've surprised yourself with the rewrites. And now your miserable less than or equal to 50k word book is now an astounding 160k+ word book and is everything you never thought it would ever be.

Realize you will have to pull off this rewriting magic 3 more times, but you're totally overjoyed about it and you're already in LOVE with the new STEAMPUNK world building for the LAND OF NAUGHT. 

You have promises to readers and yourself to keep, and an author career to steer in the right direction, and a Facebook and Instagram and Twitter, and basically an entire social media sphere that needs attention from you.

Click your shoes together, wave your magic wand, do whatever it takes and anchor down. We're going on an adventure called 2016. Just wait. You will see. YOU WILL SEE.

 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to MARCUS MARBLE & a few other awesome things :)

FIRST THINGS FIRST:  ☆   ☆   ☆   HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MARCUS MARBLE  ☆   ☆  ☆  & Incidentally, to myself :D because we share a birthday. 

EDIT: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU TOO, VIVIAN! 

Secondly, THANK YOU to those who messaged me and asked me why I'm not updating on Twitter, Google+, Facebook, etc. I was finally able to admit something. I HAVE SOCIAL ANXIETY. And right now, everything just feels so overwhelming, and I will tell you why within the next 2 posts. 

SO far, I've been trying the social media thing with INSTAGRAM and I am getting there, guys. I PROMISE, PROMISE, PROMISE to do better next year. And if I don't post stuff, don't hesitate to message me and be like HEY, what are you DOING? You promised. And then I'll totally have to do it then because I HAVE to keep my promises, someway, somehow. 

I owe you guys EVERMORE and the ETERNALLY sequels and I am working my butt off on that and  ☆   ☆  ☆   THANK YOU!!!  ☆   ☆   ☆  for being so incredibly patient and amazing when I've been saying every year that EVERMORE is coming and then letting you down. YOU ARE MY ROCK STARS. 

SO: The THIRD thing is this: There are currently— as of 1:37 a.m. December 31, 2015 — 207, 110 books of mine out there in the hands of readers who I am SUPER excited to interact with. 

I just spent the first few hours of my birthday calculating the numbers, and, I know, that doesn't seem like such a big number to write home about or anything because there are tons of authors who sell more than that everyday, every year, and not all of those were purchased books, some I gave away for free (the number is a combination of free books and purchased books) but in the end, I'll take THAT over obscurity ANY DAY. Wanna know why??? 

Last year, I made $500 all year on book sales. YUP, I know. TERRIBLE. But it could've been worse, and this year, it was WAY BETTER. 

AND I've been in a dark place for the past two years and it's just now starting to LOOK UP and I have YOU to THANK for that. 

SO, all in all, Pretty in Black is doing relatively well. To be honest, it's doing better than I thought it EVER would. AND GOOGLE PLAY IS BAE!!!!! SO FAR, there are 13,009 reviews & ratings displaying and I'm sure there will be more coming in soon, whether good or bad, because there are a crap ton of books out there. Well, in my little world, this is a big number LOL, in comparison to several years of nothing. :) 

Thank you to everyone who posted a review or gave a rating! VIRTUAL HUGS TO ALL OF YOU. OMG. If only there were that many numbers on GOODREADS right now. 

I still believe in this book and in this book series. And until this year, I hadn't been giving it the love and attention it truly deserves, and every single one of you helped wake me up so I could realize that. 

OKAY, so I have a LOT more to say, but I'm going to divide it into 3 separate posts so that way it's not so much at once. 

Instant Updates in Picture Format

I do most of my socializing here. I'm in love with Instagram. I'm 10 x as more likely to post something there than anywhere else. {Psst: I'll tell you a secret—I like Visuals, this is why.}

But I haven't exactly abandoned Facebook, Twitter, or Google +. I'll do something with it next year.

Evermore is being moved to 2016

My inbox is currently accepting hate mail, and you probably wanna throw a dart at me LOL. Evermore has been moved to next year. I don't know what month yet, and I won't attach a new release date to this book until I know for sure that it will be releasing when I say it will.

The book is still being edited. I apologize for not saying anything sooner; I thought I would be able to make this release date. However, I've had a few set backs that I wasn't expecting.

My blog and social media is gonna more than likely be a little bit dead, as I will be using all my time to finish this book. If you write me messages, I will respond to them as quickly as I can.

Thank You for being so supportive. Marcellie says Hi, and they will see you again in 2016.

You can Request my Digital Autograph now :)

Name *
Name



First Name



Last Name


























Email Address *











































Message *
If you send me a little message, I can personalize the signature. Examples: Which book(s) of mine did you read? Which character do you like the most? Are you #TeamWalter or #TeamMarcus? Do you wanna visit Nevermore? Do you have a favorite quote from the book? I wanna make each signature unique :)

Otherwise, I'll only send you my standard autograph.






























































Select File Type *
Image. PDF. or Both. (You can save the PDF on your device by uploading it or e-mailing it to your device)


Image

PDF

Both Please :)











































Select Color(s) *
Choose which color or color(s) you want the signature & message in. Choose Black if your device only reads B&W (if you're also choosing PDF)

Red

Dark Orange

Light Orange

Lemon Yellow

Yellow

Mint Green

Green

Light Blue

Navy Blue

Deep Blue

Purple

Hot Pink

Black

Gray

Awesome!

Hey!! I am still deep in to the Evermore revisions. I'm aiming to finish round 2 of revisions so I can start round 3 in early April. And then maybe after that, editing can begin. AND, during the time I'm doing all of this, I'm gonna be taking breaks to SEND YOU MY AUTOGRAPH. If you want it, that is, of course. A few lovely readers have asked me for it, but since I cannot yet make it out of my chamber to physically travel and do book signings, I'm gonna send it to you digitally.

I know there is this website called AuthorGraph that enables authors to send signatures, but I'm gonna rock this signing thing directly from my Samsung Galaxy Tablet and it's gonna be my actual digital signature. I also might doodle, even though I suck at it.

Here's how this works. FILL OUT THE FORM on the left, and once I get your e-mail, I'll sign my autograph and send it back to you. You can choose if you want the file in image or PDF. You can upload the PDFs to Kindle, Google Play Books, and probably even other e-readers as pictured below. With the image, you can print it out and stuff.

I have no idea how many requests I'll get, so it may or may not take a little while for you to receive a reply back with your signature, but I'll get around to everyone who makes a request :)