Jade C. Jamison's Blog, page 25

Sunday Q&A: Character Development and Processing Reviews

Jade answers interview and reader questions on Sundays.

How do you decide who your characters are going to be?

My characters usually tell me, just as the story usually guides me. But when I’m actively thinking about characters, I will sometimes think of a particular type I’d like to write (for example, a mother who needs to discover what’s wrong with her child or—in the case of Nicki Sosebee—I choose certain traits I want a character to have) and then that character drives the story. More often than not, though, I’ll think of a story and then the characters come to me. Sometimes I start the story with sketchy details that get filled out as I go. What I love is that, as I write, the characters reveal more to me than I knew before. It’s an exciting journey for me as a writer and one of the reasons I continue to enjoy writing as much as I do.

Are your characters based on real people, whether they are people from your personal life or celebrities?

No, my characters are not based on real people, although bits and pieces of real people (both from my personal life and those who are celebrities) become parts of characters. More than anything else, though, I think a little piece of me is in all my characters, male and female, and maybe that’s why we authors sometimes take bad reviews personally, even when they’re not meant to be. It’s like hurting us…or our babies.

Here’s one example of parts of people showing up in my characters. I had taken my then five-year-old child to his classmate’s birthday party. One woman there was…well, she was a snob and she was rude, and she thought she was God’s gift to men. She was a real piece of work. By the end of the party, I was glad to get out of there. But I didn’t forget the details about her—blue and pink eye shadow, perfectly manicured nails, snug cut offs that barely covered her bottom. Those details (the nails and the eye shadow) became part of a character in my book Laid Bare. Nothing big (not in a Carly Simon’s “You’re So Vain” sort of way) but enough to help me as the author recall the feelings I’d experienced. I think little touches like that can add realism and depth to characters that might otherwise be two-dimensional at best.

I also allow myself to be inspired by real stories, especially when it comes to rock star romance. Truth might be stranger than fiction, but I read a lot of metal star news and sometimes little details become big deals in my stories. You never know what might have inspired me.

What responses to your writing have affected you the most and why?

Even though I wish it wasn’t true, it’s the extreme responses, both good and bad, that affect me most. The gushing reviews where someone loved the book—those are awesome, land me on cloud nine, and reward me hugely for doing what I love most. The other extreme, though—really nasty, mean reviews, one where the reader acts like I personally set out to ruin her life by writing a novel—affect me negatively. I used to read all my reviews, feeling like I could learn something from each one, but the one-star reviews are not worth it. If, by the first sentence, I can tell it’s mean and nasty, I stop reading. I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life. The reviewer is welcome to her opinion, but that doesn’t mean I have to read it.

Got a question for me? Post it in the comments and I’ll do my best to answer it either here or in a future post!

Throwback Thursday – DEAD (Nicki Sosebee #2)

Dead (Nicki Sosebee #2) is one of the fastest books I’ve ever written. When I decided to write the series, I was still pretty new to Amazon and epublishing, but I knew instinctively that if I wanted a faithful audience, I had to write—and, in spite of my lack of marketing knowledge, I figured the best way for an audience to find me was, again, to write.

I’d never written a series or even a sequel before, so one thing I immediately found refreshing was the fact that, in the second book, I already knew the characters and the setting. That allowed me to spend more time conducting research (which I needed to for that book) and writing. So, from beginning of process to end, I wrote Dead in about three weeks, give or take. Yes, it’s a shorter book, but that doesn’t change the fact that I wrote it super fast. The best part? Something happened in this book that I, as the writer and plotter, hadn’t expected—but that’s okay. It worked and I ran with it.

The blurb:

Nicki’s love life might suck, but her sex life is great. The only way both could be spectacular would be if her best friend Sean would look at her as more than just a friend. Nicki knows she’s stuck in the friend zone, so she focuses her energies on her job. She’s becoming a better reporter every day, so when her editor asks her to interview a local politician, Nicki is thrilled. But when the politician’s secretary ends up dead, it’s anybody’s guess as to who did it. Nicki has a few ideas, though, and finds herself in deep trouble as she pokes her nose where she thinks it belongs.

The excerpt:

Chapter Three from Dead (Nicki Sosebee #2)

IT WAS CLOSE to noon when Nicki walked out of the Winchester County building. The heat that blasted her as she walked outside felt almost physical. She strolled over to her red Volkswagen Jetta and unlocked the door on the driver’s side. As soon as she opened the door, she peeled off the red jacket. Whew. She then put it, the “Vote” button, and her pad and pen on the passenger seat. She got in, started the car, and turned on the AC. The back windows were open an inch to let the hot air out. The problem, though, was that the air conditioner had seen better days. It probably wouldn’t be really cool until she’d reached her destination.

She grabbed her phone out of the jacket pocket and, as she was dialing Sean, she noticed Commissioner Cannon and Sara walking through the parking lot. She heard Sean’s phone ring but kept her eyes on the two. The pair walked the length of the parking lot and stopped at the end where the cars were parked perpendicular to the three main rows in the lot. “Hey.” Sean’s voice came through Nicki’s phone. Jesus…like melted butter, that man’s voice. A low tenor, smooth as velvet. When Nicki fantasized about Sean, his voice was one of the first things in her mind.

“Hey.” Nicki cleared her throat…and her head. “So…lunch. Where do you wanna go?”

“How about the café?”

Nicki knew he meant the Winchester Café on Main Street. It was a throwback from long ago, had been in Winchester for who knew how long. Nicki only knew it was already old when she was a kid. The older generation of Winchester kept the café in business, mainly for coffee and eggs during weekday mornings. But she and Sean had started frequenting the café several years ago when they felt like having old-fashioned greasy food. Nicki wasn’t in the mood for the food today, but she was in the mood for Sean, so if he wanted the café, so be it. “Sounds good. Do you want to meet there?”

“Yeah. You ready?”

“Yep. See you in a few minutes.” She pressed End on her cell phone and watched the Commissioner and Sara drive away in his black Cadillac Sedan. But then it registered with her what she’d witnessed while she’d been on the phone with Sean. As Cannon had opened the door for Sara, his left hand had been resting on the small of her back, just above her rear end, guiding her in the car. But it wasn’t boss-like, and it wasn’t a friendly gesture.

Shit. Cannon was sleeping with Sara.

No, Nicki had no proof. It was just a feeling in her gut. He’d touched Sara intimately. And Nicki knew Cannon was married. What a creep. Sara didn’t have much further she could fall in Nicki’s eyes, and now Cannon was just about there as well. God, why had Neal given her this assignment?

She put her car in gear and drove out of the parking lot. The radio station started playing Korn’s “Blind,” so she turned it up. Korn was Nicki’s favorite band ever, and she would have been perfectly happy if the station played nothing but Korn songs. Because the County building was close to downtown and the café was downtown, the song was only halfway through when she eased her car into an empty space a few doors down from the café. Before turning off her car, she looked around for Sean’s truck. Maybe she had a minute or two to finish out the song.

But as Jonathan Davis’s voice started rising in intensity, building to the crescendo near the end of the song, Nicki realized that Sean had probably walked. His shop was just a couple of blocks away, on a street that ran parallel to Main. So she shut off the car and grabbed her purse. Just as she closed the door, sure enough, she saw Sean rounding the corner onto Main and walking toward the café entrance. He saw Nicki and smiled. She waved and stepped up onto the sidewalk and waited for Sean to catch up.

He was the yummiest man she’d ever known.

He was wearing a plain white t-shirt that didn’t quite show off his chiseled chest and six-pack, but it sure hinted at it. His hair was purposely tousled in a messy, sexy look, something he’d been doing with his hair for the last couple of weeks, and since he’d broken up with his last girlfriend, he’d had light blonde streaks put in his dark blonde hair. He’d also trimmed his mutton chops back into flared sideburns, but he’d left the soul patch. Sean made sure it didn’t seem like he spent a lot of time on his looks, but Nicki knew better. He was fucking hot, and he had girls chasing him like a limited-edition designer purse.

“You look like a full-fledged business woman,” he said as he closed the gap.

Nicki sneered. “Thanks.”

They began walking toward the door of the café. “I meant that as a compliment.”

Nicki shrugged and pulled her long brown hair out of the clip that had been holding it up. Sean had reminded her that she looked uptight and professional, not exactly the image Nicki wanted to maintain with most of Winchester. With the politicians, fine, but Nicki didn’t want to come across to the rest of the town as prim or proper or stuffy or…old. And she definitely did want Sean to think of her that way. Well, at least with the jacket off, she had a little skin showing. She pulled the café door open and felt Sean grab it as she finished walking through. Nicki took a deep breath. “Then thanks sincerely.” So that she didn’t sound snarky, she smiled to let Sean know she meant it.

The café was laid back, and Sean and Nicki knew they didn’t have to wait to be seated. They spied an open booth near the back and headed toward it. Sure enough, the place was busy with the silver-haired set. It was cool inside, and Nicki knew that’s why many of them lingered.

Nicki slid into one of the booth seats covered in red vinyl. She clasped her hands together on top of the white gold-flecked Formica tables that came straight from the age of innocence and took a deep breath, eager to tell Sean about her day. He was grinning at her. “What?”

“You will never guess who I saw today.”

“Who?”

“Sara-fucking-Carmichael.”

Sean’s smile faded and his eyebrows bore down. “Who?”

The waitress approached the table. “Hi, guys.” She handed them a couple of menus. They weren’t quite as old as the tables, but they had seen better days. “Can I get you something to drink?”

Nicki thought about it for a moment. “How about an iced tea?”

The waitress nodded. “Make that two,” Sean said.

Once the waitress had left, Nicki lowered her voice. “You don’t remember Sara Carmichael?”

“Why should I?”

Nicki sighed. “She was head cheerleader our freshman year.”

Sean’s eyes lit up with recognition. “Oh, you mean the blonde?” He cupped both his hands in front of his pecs to indicate Sara’s then-famous boobs.

Nicki’s mouth screwed up in disgust. “I take it you remember her.”

Sean chuckled. “Yeah, it’s coming back to me now.”

“God, you’re such a pig.” She didn’t actually think Sean was that kind of guy, but she hated how he sometimes felt so comfortable around Nicki that he did stuff like that around her, things he’d usually just do around guys. Reminding him that she was a woman never hurt. Sean just rolled his eyes, because he knew it didn’t really bother her.

The waitress set their glasses in front of them and asked if they were ready to order. They hadn’t even glanced at the menus but they knew what the café offered and they’d already known what they wanted to eat before entering the restaurant. Sean ordered a bacon cheeseburger and Nicki ordered a fish sandwich. Both were having the homemade fries, probably their favorite food at the café. As they handed their menus to the waitress, Nicki stole a glance at Sean’s tattooed arms. She loved every inch of them. They were mostly black with a little color here and there, but she loved them. He’d never explained the meanings of all of them to her (someday, maybe), but she understood the tattoo on his right hand perfectly—each finger had a letter in the acronym BAMF, and that’s why Sean called it his punching hand. It had been years since Sean had been in an actual fight, but he’d earned his reputation around Winchester as a badass motherfucker, and the BAMF tattoo was a reminder for anyone who tried to forget.

Nicki took a sip of her tea. It was nice and cool. “Well, she’s still a stuck-up snot like she used to be.”

“I don’t even remember her. Sounds like she got under your skin.”

“Only because she acted like she was better than everyone else.” Nicki took another sip of her iced tea and her voice dropped a notch. “Honestly, I didn’t think running into someone from the past like her would have pissed me off as much as it did. I think it’s ‘cause she was being rude to most of the people who called, and I had to hear it all while I sat there. I can’t believe the commissioners have someone like that running their office.”

Sean snorted. “Maybe that’s the kind of response they want callers to receive. Did you ever think of that?”

Nicki pondered. “I guess. But don’t you think that would be political suicide?”

A grin spread over Sean’s face. “Not if you can blame it on someone else.”

Nicki knew Sean was distrustful of authority, and rightfully so, even though she’d never heard the whole story. She knew he hated law enforcement figures of any kind—police, sheriff deputies, the State Patrol. But she could tell just from what he was saying that his lack of trust extended to politicians. And maybe that skepticism was deserved by those figures as well. “So you think Sara is their scapegoat?”

“Not necessarily. Just saying it’s a possibility.”

Nicki pondered it, then shook her head. “Anyway, the interview…”

Sean smiled again, his blue eyes sparkling. “I bet that was some heady stuff.”

Nicki snickered. “How’d you know?” She took another sip of her drink. “You know, I’d feel pretty weird talking about myself like he did for that length of time.”

“They’re salesmen, Nicki. That’s what they do. If they can’t sell themselves to you, they’ll never get elected, right?”

She thought about it. “Now that you mention it, he was kind of like a used car salesman.”

“Since I moved the shop to Maple Avenue, political canvassers come by all the time, asking for donations.” For his shop’s formative years, Sean had started out in his mother’s garage, then moved to a shop on a side street in Winchester. For the last several years, though, Sean had moved downtown as his business continued to grow, and apparently that made his business well-known not just with the biker crowd, but everyone…including politicians. “They all sound the same. I don’t care what party they belong to. And all they do is talk about themselves. Not once have I had a political wannabe or their representative say to me, ‘This is what I will do for Winchester.’ Instead, they yap on and on about their education, their beliefs, their voting record. I wouldn’t give a dime for the lot of them.”

Nicki smiled. “Tell me how you really feel.”

Sean sneered. He’d gotten worked up. “They’re all a bunch of rich guys who don’t know how to really work for a living, and I just can’t respect that.”

The waitress brought their plates and set down a bottle of ketchup. “I’ll get you some refills on the drinks. Anything else?”

Sean asked, “Mustard?”

She nodded and smiled. “Should have known. Be right back.”

Nicki grabbed the ketchup and squirted a hill of it next to her fries. “So who do you respect, Mr. Ramsey?”

“Real people, Ms. Sosebee.”

The waitress brought a bottle of mustard that she handed to Sean, and then she filled up their glasses from a pitcher of tea she held. “Anything else you need?”

Sean shook his head. “Nope.”

Nicki smiled, already chewing on a bite of fish sandwich. A glob of tartar sauce squirted out the back of the bun onto the plate. It was messy but good. The waitress left and Nicki wiped her mouth with her napkin as Sean squirted mustard on the top bun of his burger. “I haven’t even told you the best part…the part that will never be in the paper.” Sean raised his eyebrows. “I’m pretty sure Sara’s sleeping with Commissioner Cannon.”

“Why?”

“Just the way he touched her. It was in the parking lot, before I left. I saw them getting into his car. And he just…I don’t know. He didn’t touch her the way a boss would touch a female employee. Hell, even a father figure wouldn’t touch her like that.”

“At least he’s a true politician. Isn’t it a requirement nowadays that they have at least one affair before running for a major office?” Sean winked as he picked up a French fry. “Now you know he’s legit.”

Dead

Amazon: http://amzn.to/MeW2QZ

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1eYBdQB

B&N: http://bit.ly/NeOAGi

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1mDxLWo

iTunes: http://bit.ly/1vpywTy

 

Book Club Questions for RIGHT NOW (Nicki Sosebee #4)

Some readers love being able to talk about books but sometimes don’t know where to start or how to share what they’re thinking with others. That’s why some publishers will list questions at the back of an author’s book, but I decided to share these kind of questions on my blog. My plan is to eventually have questions for all of my books, so stay tuned.

Today’s book is Right Now (Nicki Sosebee #4).

Oh! As always…if you haven’t read the book yet, you might want to skip the questions, because they’re likely to be full of spoilers!

The blurb:

Nicki is becoming a better reporter, so much so that her boss Neal leans on her more and more to get the good stuff. So when a rash of robberies hits the downtown Winchester area, Nicki is reporting the damage…and probably getting a little too close for the bad guys’ comfort. As if that weren’t enough, Nicki finds herself in a full-fledged love triangle between Jesse and Sean…and she can’t bear to choose between them.

The questions:

Nicki and Jesse go over a large bump in their relationship in this book. Does it feel realistic? If you had to “point a finger,” whom do you think is more to blame for their relationship woes?

A lot of readers hated Nicki’s dalliance during the time she and Jesse were broken up, mainly because of the time difference between her and Matt. Did their affair bother you? Why or why not?

During an emotional scene, Sean tells Nicki that a relationship between the two of them would never work. Do Sean’s reasons make sense? Should Nicki give up on her on-again, off-again pursuit of the man?

Many readers have loved the “shock” moment near the end of the book. Did Jesse’s reveal surprise you?

Does Winchester seem like a typical small mountain town? Why or why not?

Are there any passages or quotes that stand out to you?

If you could ask Jade one question about this book, what would it be?

If you use these questions for a book club reading, I’d love to know how it goes. If you come up with other questions, I’d love to hear them! Happy reading!

Looking for book club questions for a specific Jade book? You can use the search box at the top of the page to look through tags for the book you’re looking for or you can click the tag below that says (or search for) Book Club questions.

Dear Crabby: Biting My Fingernails!

Dear Crabby is a weekly column featuring the loveable but cantankerous Crabby, full of relationship advice for the lovesick. Let’s read what advice she has this week for our poor reader.

Dear Crabby:

My name is Jessica, and I’m not proud of everything I’ve done in my life. Let’s just say I didn’t come from the best family life, but I am trying to make the best of things. I’m currently in grad school working on my master’s degree.

Money is always tight. Recently, I needed more money than I could come up with for a car repair. I tried to think of every way around the issue that I could, and I gave up…but then the universe seemed to dump a solution on me that was tough to avoid. I work part-time as a bartender, and this rude woman goaded me into actually considering earning a large amount of money from her in exchange for tempting her husband into cheating. After much back-and-forth, I actually agreed to it. Stupid, I know, but it’s something I can’t take back now.

Anyway, the fated night came and it was hard and I was ready to give up, but her husband did cheat on her with me—and it was in that process that we discovered we were soulmates. I have never connected with someone on that level.

So now? Now we’re together—except now I’m starting to believe that old saying, “Once a cheater, always a cheater.” He hasn’t actually said or done anything to make me doubt—it’s a feeling, a strong feeling? What do I do?

— Biting My Fingernails

 

Dear Biting:

I don’t even know where to begin. Of all the irresponsible, unethical, lowest things anyone could do. I certainly hope the couple you homewrecked didn’t have children (I notice you avoided telling me that). I’m going to hope, for my peace of mind, that they didn’t.

So now you’re stuck with this cheating loser, and you want me to offer you some kind of reassurance that this leopard will change his spots? Honey, forgive the crass pun, but you made your bed, and now you must lie in it. I can’t tell you if he’s cheating or not, but maybe you had better have a good, long conversation with him and—if you can’t or if you still feel unsure—maybe you should leave and think twice before doing something stupid like this again. You say you’re smart enough to get a master’s degree—so act like it.

Dear Crabby will address reader letters every Monday.

If you want to know how our fingernail biting friend’s relationship fared, you can find out in Be Careful What You Wish For.

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1jnUP3q

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/QpFb0m

B&N: http://bit.ly/1r3QgoP

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1oUesGJ

iTunes: http://bit.ly/1ozNJjn

WRITER ADVICE: Things I’ve Learned the Hard Way, Part 1

Jade provides tips and advice for writers on Saturdays.

 

I might sometimes be dumb as sh*t, but one thing is for certain—I will (eventually) learn from my mistakes, and I will share what I’ve learned in hopes of preventing you from having to make the same mistakes.

Today, I’m going to talk about the perennial maxim: If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is. But, first, a little background is in order…and my apologies if you’ve heard my story before. When I started out as an indie author, I didn’t even think about marketing or promotion. All I thought about was writing. I figured the selling part was up to the sites where I published (Amazon, Barnes & Noble, etc.). I did a little promotion on social media sites once I obtained a few followers, people who found me after reading and liking my books. So, yes, it was slow going, but I didn’t know any better, and I didn’t care. I was slowly but surely gaining a following of readers, and that made me happy.

Thanks mainly to Facebook (their algorithms worked a lot differently back then), I managed to gather enough followers (about 70 or 80 at the time) who got so excited about what I shared about my upcoming release Bullet that they spread the word like wildfire and I had a bestseller on my hands when I published it. It was amazing! The problem, though, is that I still know nothing about marketing and promoting. Okay, so that’s not true. I actually have been learning a lot—reading up on the topic and trying new things constantly. I am still not an expert by any stretch of the imagination. But guess what? I can tell you what definitely does not work and what will drain your pockets of any hard-earned writer cash you’ve made thus far…because I have done it! Let me tell you what has not worked for me. These things might work for you—but I am a skeptic, and I wouldn’t advise you to do it!

Once Facebook (and Amazon too) began changing its algorithms, I had no idea how to market myself (and that was why I knew I had to try something different). I hadn’t been writing a newsletter (I do now) and I didn’t regularly post on my blog/website…so I had no idea how to stop sliding down the slope of declining book sales. I’ve tried so many things since—especially resorting to the advice of people who just wanted my money. Other authors in my genre were still being read, still selling plenty of books, so I knew they were probably doing something different from what I’d been doing, but no one was talking. I and several of my close writer friends talked about the problem but we weren’t sure how to get over that hurdle either–I just knew what wasn’t working.

Anyway, I’m talking in circles. Here, without further ado, are things writers in need of promotion should avoid:

The free “instructional” webinar. Actually, don’t avoid the webinar. If it’s instructional, you’ll probably learn something. I know I have. That said, many of these webinars are myopic and focus on one thing that particular author managed to do to become successful. Again, you might learn something from the webinar, but beware the end when the sales pitch starts. And, make no mistake, these people are good at marketing—and they hit you where you live. I’ve spent more money than I care to admit on these things. One thing I have learned, though…if there’s a timer involved, that’s their way of putting on the pressure. I walk away now—no matter how good it sounds. Why? Because out of all the advice I’ve bought from these webinars, I can tell you this: their advice might work up to a point, but never enough that I’ve recouped the money I’ve spent. Lesson learned: High-pressure pitches are not worth it.

The Sales Pitch Timer

What I call the aha! ad. I call it that because what they have to say seems so logical to me. I think, “Oh, so that’s what I need to do.” You have an ad—maybe you found it on Facebook or Twitter or maybe a company you’ve worked with before is emailing it to you—but it makes claims that make the author in you sit up and say, “Oh, this is amazing. I need to do this.” I had one of these moments recently (meaning, I’m a little wiser about the whole process now). It was a Facebook ad, obviously targeted to me because I’m an author, and it said that this company’s service was guaranteed to sell more of my books. In fact, they went on to say, most authors “recovered” the fee spent for the service just hours after the company started doing its thing. I did a little research, checking out their website. It sounded great, so good that I almost did my old kneejerk reaction of “Where do I pay?” But skeptical me said, “Waitaminute. Sounds too good to be true!” I looked at some of the authors they’d recently promoted, because if the company’s claims were accurate, at least a few of these authors’ books would be doing well on Amazon (sorry, but a book in the top 200,000 doesn’t impress me) and they would have a lot of reviews (again, I can get four reviews simply by asking some of my beloved readers nicely). I wasn’t impressed. That said, I wasn’t ready to give up. Maybe the recent ones just hadn’t had that “time to recover” their payment, right? So I actually contacted the company and asked them if they had any author testimonials. The response I got back said something to this effect: “We don’t share testimonials, because what we would share might not be true. Please check out the post pinned to the top of our Facebook page for social proof that it works.” I was a little irritated and put off (and more skeptical than ever), but I really wanted it to be true, so I popped on over to their Facebook page. The post pinned to the top had lots of authors asking questions…but I didn’t see one author say, “Oh, thank you for your service. My book is now an Amazon #1 bestseller in its category!” I actually didn’t see any testimonials at all, not even an author thanking them for the service. I just saw lots and lots of authors with tons of questions. Now, if you’re a newbie author, a service like that one (they write honest reviews and promote the book on their website if they think it’s truly a good read and they do it in exchange for a fee; that said, if they don’t like your book, they will refund your money) might be worth it. It was not worth it to me, especially not seeing results. Their customer service seemed decent, meaning the guy got back to me pretty much immediately, but not having what I asked for—testimonials from authors (that I could then verify on my own by checking out Amazon and other booksellers)—lost me. It would have been another place to blow my money. Frankly, I’d rather go spend all that money on lottery tickets, because I’d probably have a better chance of “recovering” that money by scratching a winner. I am done blowing my money on services that don’t work. Beware claims and hype. Lesson learned: Ask for proof. Don’t believe empty promises.  And conduct your own research–don’t believe their claims.

Here’s the bottom line—salespeople pitch to desperate people (there’s actually a website devoted to this topic–how to make your buyers feel desperate enough that they want to buy your product). They know what you want and they know how to exploit that need inside you. Find a way to protect yourself and learn to truly evaluate their pitch without emotion. Your budget will thank you. If there is a magic way out there to sell books, I haven’t found it yet. I keep writing and my faithful readers keep reading. That’s all I know and all I know that works. If I’m going to blow money on my writing, it’s going to be for book covers and swag, not some shyster.

 

Got a writing question for me? Post below and I’ll be happy to answer it either here or in a future Saturday blog post!

Throwback Thursday – CHRISTMAS STALKINGS (Bullet 4.5)

I wrote the novella Christmas Stalkings for my readers who couldn’t get enough of Brad and Val. It was also a way for me to “get back into” the Bullet universe before writing the fifth book, Slash and Burn. It also appeared in a multi-author anthology first (Mistletoe & Kisses), and I added another scene or two to the final version before publication.

Many of my readers have called Bullet 4.5 a “mix” of the Bullet and Nicki Sosebee series, a commentary on the feel of the book. There’s a little intrigue and mystery and a lot of danger in those pages, and that’s why. But enough of my chatting. Let’s get to the good part!

The blurb:

Val, Brad, and the kids decide to take a short but needed winter vacation to get away from it all and enjoy each other’s company, but one thing is stopping them from relaxing like they should. Since fronting her new band Val Hella, Val has discovered the darker side of fame—she has a stalker, one who seems intent upon stepping up his game to get what he wants, and the ruin of their vacation becomes the least of their worries.

The excerpt:

Chapter Two of Christmas Stalkings (Bullet 4.5)

I STILL WASN’T used to being treated like royalty. It was so not me and yet…there it was. We had valet parking, but first a couple of bellhops loaded up two rolling carts with all the shit we just had to bring with us. Sure, clothing for a week. Makeup and toiletries. Toys for the kids. Diapers for Hayley. Presents for our pretend Christmas. But had Brad and I really needed to bring our guitars and a laptop? All our shit looked decadent next to Gracie’s two small pieces of luggage.

Instead of being punished for going overboard, we had people fawning all over us. It didn’t hurt that Brad was loose with the cash. Before we headed inside, I looked at the surroundings. My God, what a beautiful place. The hotel itself was amazing, with perfectly sculptured plant life that I knew must have been gorgeous during the spring, summer, and even fall, but now it was all buried under snow. The hotel itself was beautiful, with modern architecture that made me think of the Swiss Alps. Even though I’d never been to that part of Europe, I had a definite image in my mind of what might be reminiscent of that place, and this hotel captured those sorts of details, all while feeling quite modern. And the stonework—from the paths that I could see to the raised flowerbeds that were all created using stone—took my breath away.

But nature itself rivaled what man had built. The evergreens stood proudly under a fresh coat of snow and the mountains hulked over our insignificance. The skies were gray, telling me we’d arrived just in time. I would be surprised if we didn’t get more snow here overnight. Part of me was excited, because I knew my kids would love it. We’d have to do a lot outside when the sun was out. I wondered if the resort would frown on us if we built a snowman in the middle of their planned beauty.

Of course, I’d been feeling the money ever since we’d passed Silverthorne. The ski resorts along I-70 catered to the rich—or, at least, the upper middle class who wanted to feel like one of the top tier—and it was evident. Vail had a huge golf course, for starters, but there was a feel in the air that I couldn’t deny. It wasn’t like other ski areas I was familiar with in Colorado, ones where regular people—people like me—frequented. They loved skiing, and they’d spend money on the gear and the trip, but it was one of those things—they’d gather up their buddies and go for the day, heading back at night and then planning their next trip. These places felt like they weren’t just about skiing. They were about a literal home away from home, and I would realize that even more once I was able to check out the village just a little way farther up the hill.

Gracie, the kids, and I sat on plush furniture in the lobby while Brad checked us in at the desk. Poor Gracie looked exhausted. Her long blonde hair—always curly and a bit unruly but absolutely gorgeous—was piled on her head in an informal bun, and her makeup was flawless as always, but her green eyes belied her fatigue. I hoped she’d had a great time the night before, and I planned not to press her into heavy-duty service today. It wasn’t that we needed her hardcore anyway, but having her along wasn’t a bad idea. She could help here and there, and I would be grateful for that. No, the times we would really need her would be when Val Hella would tour in a few months. We’d hired her when we finally decided to move forward with having me start a band. Rather than have a “babysitter,” it made more sense to have someone with some expertise in child care and someone who was dedicated to our children and ours alone. Brad paid her well, and she was basically on call whenever we needed her. She didn’t live with us, although we did have a small room for her at our house for those nights when we’d need her to sleep over for whatever reason. The woman had become a godsend, and our kids loved her. She’d been a great decision, and I was thrilled that she was looking forward to going on tour with Val Hella, because I hadn’t felt this fulfilled in a long time. I felt like I was finally responding to the call of destiny.

And, honestly, Gracie helped ease the sense of guilt I felt. I wanted to be the best mother I could, and part of me felt like the only way to do that was by spending every waking moment with my children, doting on them constantly, just like my mother had seemed to when I was growing up. I knew it wasn’t true, but I also didn’t want to feel like I was foisting my responsibilities upon someone else.

Fortunately, as I said, my kids loved Gracie, and she felt to them like she was part of the family, like she belonged, and they didn’t resent me for the times I had to practice or record…and so I knew they wouldn’t mind the couple of hours here and there I’d need to take the stage or go to a radio interview or a signing before a concert. When I wasn’t doing those things that made me feel whole, I would spend time with them, and I would give them my all.

Once the staff had wheeled up all our stuff and unloaded the carts, Brad tipped them and I took in our lodging. It was amazing. It was like an apartment. A kitchen (with a small alcove that housed a small washer and dryer) with the appliances you’d expect—a fridge, microwave, stove and oven, dishwasher, can opener, and toaster, as well as dishes, silverware, glasses, cooking utensils, and pots. There was a dining room table in that small space, but it was surrounded by a bar and stools. Just past it was a living room with two sofas, a beautiful fireplace, a widescreen TV, a bookshelf loaded with novels and board games, and a huge window. Chris ran in front of me and I followed him, and the two of us discovered a small balcony just off the living room. Once more, the view was amazing and breathtaking. If the weather had been mild, I could have imagined spending time on that balcony, but the air was beyond crisp. It was freezing cold, and I’d appreciate the view from inside. One bedroom was to the left. It had two queen-sized beds and led to the bathroom that could also be accessed from the entryway next to the kitchen. The bedroom on the right size also had two beds as well as a bathroom, but that bathroom was only accessible through the bedroom. There was also a huge closet on the way to the bathroom.

Both bedrooms had televisions as well and we had cable or could order movies. I smiled. I thought this could be a nice vacation.

Gracie said, “If you guys want, the kids and I can share one room and you can have the other.”

Brad smiled and looked at me. “I knew there was a reason I liked this girl.”

I laughed. “If you really want to, Gracie.” I looked at Chris. “You and Hayley want to share a bed in Gracie’s room?”

He smiled. “Yeah! Gracie always lets us watch movies to fall asleep.” I frowned. I didn’t know that it was the best idea, but I supposed it wasn’t too bad. Most of the time his bedtime was at home with Brad and me. Once in a while wouldn’t be bad.

“Like what?”

“One time, we watched Goonies and sometimes we watch stuff like Frozen.”

“Well, no wonder you’re excited. I guess we’ll let you stay with Gracie while we’re here.”

Chris gave me that precocious grin he often sported when he felt like he’d been smart, and he picked up his suitcase and walked it into the bedroom on the left. Gracie giggled. “I’ll unpack the kids’ stuff into the dresser and closet in my room then, I guess.” She started walking toward the room but stopped and turned around. “Oh, wait. Is there something you need me to do first?”

“Nope. We’ll unpack the presents and stuff later. I think it’ll be nice to get everything out of here and put away.”

Brad walked out of the bedroom and said, “Here’s the plan, ladies. Once we’re unpacked, we’ll walk up to the village and grab a bite to eat. Are you all hungry?”

I nodded. Gracie said, “I’m famished…and I think I can finally eat now.”

“We’ll wander around a bit until we see somewhere that looks good.”

“Since we have this kitchen, would you mind if we also found a store somewhere and bought some food? That way we can make a few meals here, but maybe we could keep a few snacks on hand.”

“Fine by me.”

Gracie said, “I’ll let you know when I’m done over here.” I heard Chris with Hayley in Gracie’s room. He could get her laughing so hard that she’d lose her breath, and she was to that point. I laughed just hearing it, and I was still smiling as I began toting luggage into the bedroom with Brad.

I took a suitcase over to the closet and began hanging up a few blouses. The jeans and tees and underwear I’d throw into a drawer, but I had a few things that needed to be hung. I was glad to know there was a dryer too, because I might have to use it to unwrinkle a blouse or two.

I felt Brad behind me. The plush carpet hadn’t given him away but his body heat did. He wrapped his arms around my waist and nuzzled my neck, kissing the skin lightly. “Feeling a little relaxed now?”

I smiled and turned in his arms to face him. “It’s beautiful here.”

“Anything for you, gorgeous.”

I kissed him and then asked, “What are you wanting to eat tonight?”

“No idea. That’s why I figured we’d walk around some and see what sounds good.”

“We should have brought Hayley’s stroller.”

“Nah. It’s good for her to walk, Val.”

“Yeah, I know that and you know that, but when she gets tired…”

“I’ll carry her. You know I’ll always carry my little princess.”

I laughed. “Yeah, she’s got daddy wrapped around her little finger.”

He kissed my forehead. “So does her mama.”

My lips met his as my fingers wound into his dark hair. He’d been right. This little Christmas vacation was the perfect idea—just what the doctor ordered.

Christmas Stalkings

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1AR6nGv

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/16CTqHu

Amazon CAN: http://amzn.to/1sSzxq2

Amazon AUS: http://bit.ly/1sJF6kJ

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/16CLQMM

Kobo: http://bit.ly/13mywKp

iTunes: http://bit.ly/13m07vq

Google Play: http://bit.ly/1ZtSU2D

Letter to My Daughter

I composed a letter to my adult daughter that I never planned to actually share with her, just something to help me make my way through my murky feelings, because I was weepy every time I was near her, rather than being supportive and helpful.  What’s worse is that the emotions didn’t manifest as weepy but rather angry, so I know she must think I’m upset with her all the time–and I’m not. Not even close. I’m just emotional in general. I suspect that a good many working mothers have felt the way I do, and so I wanted to share this here. I am proud of being an independent woman, but I sometimes wonder what was the price I (and my children) had to pay…and, when I look long and hard at it or ponder it in the dark of night, I think I might know the answer.

 

Dear Daughter:

It seems like you were born just last week. You were so tiny and fragile, helpless in this cold, cruel world, having undergone quite a trial just to get here. It was my job to spend the years that followed preparing you to survive, and I have failed.

I might not have told you all of this, but when you were born, I was in labor for close to twenty-four hours. I tore badly because of the way your birth was handled by the hospital staff, and for hours—minute by agonizing minute—I was literally praying for death. Take me, but let my baby live. As fate would have it, though, we both survived, and as I held you in my arms that late summer morning, I fell in love and felt immense gratitude that I was alive to hold you and continue to nourish you and help you grow.

You gave us a scare that first month, and within days, we were back in the hospital, and we feared that, at worst, you would die or, at best, you would live but suffer brain damage. Again, the heavens shone down upon us and you made it through that scare too, none the worse for wear.

It wasn’t long that we were home and I was trying to re-figure out my place and role in the world, because I felt a bit rudderless. When you were a month old, I had to return to work so I could pay the bills and support our tiny family, and your dad stayed home with you. It was important to us that one parent be home with you and, because of our circumstances at the time, your dad was the lucky one. Please know that I had always wished it could have been me, because I know I missed so much. Yes, it wasn’t long before I was watching you smile and giggle and I saw you through several firsts, but I also know I missed so much. I held you frequently, but it wasn’t the same as always being there, and I knew that deep down.

I’d vowed after giving birth to you that I wouldn’t have any more children, because I didn’t want to go through all that, but if you fail to plan…and, as you know, you were the oldest of four. You were the princess, though, because you are the only girl. How I loved putting you in pretty dresses and doing fun things with your hair. Truth be told, though, I felt more and more pressured, because I had a job outside the home and then came home and did housewife-y and mother-y things, and I felt like I couldn’t keep up with anything. You and your brothers were the ones who suffered. When I was home, I was cooking or cleaning, so I didn’t sit down to read with you as often as I should have. I didn’t play with you nearly enough. I didn’t praise you enough and I didn’t teach you the things you needed to know to survive. Did I show you how to do laundry and then make you do it over and over again until you were good at it, giving you feedback so that you’d improve? Did I have you helping in the kitchen and then have you practice the things I taught you? No…because I always felt like I had to hurry. And now all that time is gone and behind us and I hurried for what?

The last time I remember feeling like a really good mom was one moment when you were in the fifth grade. I was going to school for my MA at the time and working two jobs, but you had a huge school project, one that parents were supposed to help you with. It was a Renaissance assignment. Remember that? I picked up all the materials I thought we’d need and we spread that huge piece of paper on the kitchen floor and created a costume for that body outline, one that showed how much you’d learned about the elements of Renaissance dress. We spent hours on it, and I remember that one of my new white socks got black fabric paint on the bottom because I took a misstep, so every time I folded those socks afterward, I was reminded of that quality time we spent together.

There wasn’t just work getting in the way. Yes, I’d been going to school, hoping to make a better life for us…but there were other things that you know stopped me from being a good mom for you. As you know, one of your siblings presented a special challenge, and it was all consuming. You might not remember how I was always trying to find a way to make things better for our family, but I was pretty much stuck in my job by that point, because they were the only ones willing to work around our crazy life…but, to make things better, I worked more than one job most of the time so we could survive. You might not know it now, but it was paycheck to paycheck back then.

It still is.

So…the year you graduated high school and my book became a bestseller, I was convinced that I’d finally made it. If nothing else, I thought I could pay your way through school and you, unlike me, would have the opportunity to do whatever it was you wanted to do with your life. That year, I paid off one of my four student loans. I was able to pay to have your wisdom teeth pulled out so they’d stop bothering you. When the washing machine stopped working (again!), I bought a brand new washer/dryer combo—the first and only time I’ve ever bought brand-new major appliances, and now I’m praying they’ll last for years, because I won’t be able to do that again.

Because of that success, though, I was sure I was going to stay on top. Because I’d been gradually read by more and more people, I was convinced my star was going to stay bright in the sky.

It didn’t take long to fade, though.

But, at the time, I was ecstatic and enjoyed the fruits of my labor. I knew I was going to have to pay taxes that next year—the first time since before I’d had you and your brothers—and I sought tax advice. The accountant laughed when I asked if I could make quarterly tax payments, but she humored me just the same. And I even went to my first book signing.

And, for the first time ever, we had a family vacation. I’d remembered lots of good times with my mom and dad and sister back when we’d visit different places, so I planned a vacation for us—nothing extravagant—but I wanted to show you and your brothers different cool places in your home state. We even went to Four Corners so you kids could finally say you’d been in several states. But I also paid for you and your dad to visit your grandma and grandpa in Texas too, because I didn’t know the next opportunity you’d have to do it.

By the time you went to school that fall, my star was waning already, but you and I spent a little quality time together. You came with me to that first book signing and played my assistant. And then I sent you off to your destiny. You wanted to major in sciences, in part, I think, because that is what you thought your father and I expected. But we didn’t. We wanted you to go to school, yes, but for something you’d not only be successful at but enjoy. Well, you know how that turned out. And thanks to several mess ups, what little money I had left went to the school, money that could have paid for a good used car. But that tuition and my taxes that came due—in spite of the fact that I’d been making quarterly payments—totaled even more money than I had left, and I had to borrow against my work retirement, and that left you with a student loan of your own…a whopping huge one for a degree you decided not to pursue because your heart wasn’t in it.

And now? Now I see you working your butt off all the time so you can start your own life with your boyfriend. I feel so many regrets and I want to keep you home, hold you close to me, and tell you how much I love you. I want to tell you I’m sorry…sorry that I wasn’t able to help you get your driver’s license (although we came close); sorry that I wasn’t able to pay off your student loan for you; sorry that I was never able to teach you the proper way to keep house. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you to talk to about boys and life and bitchy girls. I’m sorry that time slipped away from us so quickly and now, here I am, sad that I never see you anymore. Sad that I was a shitty mother. I’d always hoped that, if nothing else, I was a good role model, but now I even doubt that…because, the past year or so, I’m working seventy hours a week just to make sure the bills are paid and there’s food on the table—and, when I’m home, I’m either dealing with your brothers or I’m writing, hoping to get back to where I was so maybe I can still help you get a good start in life.

I have no idea how you perceive me. I know I seem grumpy a lot and it’s because I sometimes feel beaten down by life. Maybe I also expect more from you that I shouldn’t…especially because I never taught you.

I guess at this point I just hope you know how very much I love you. I still remember holding helpless you in my arms, loving you, wanting to keep you safe, hoping you were happy…

My mind keeps drifting back. I recall when you went to kindergarten, and I had that helpless feeling that you were no longer constantly under my wing. But all those moments of letting go over the years didn’t prepare me for the emptiness I feel now.

I know I don’t tell you nearly enough, but please know that I am proud of the woman you have become. You are kind and thoughtful and smart and a hard worker–a beautiful soul in and out–and any shortcomings you may think you have are likely because you had a mother who didn’t show you how to do things. You are a beautiful soul. I regret that I never understood just how much those girls in school must have scarred you for you to doubt your beauty, and that’s another regret of mine—that I wasn’t around enough to pick up on the things I should have.

It’s not enough. It will never be enough, but please know that I love you. I will always love you and I want for you all the things I never had. I only wish I’d been able to give them to you, because you deserve them. Yes, my precious child, you deserve them.

Love, Mom

Book Club Questions for MADversary

Some readers love being able to talk about books but sometimes don’t know where to start or how to share what they’re thinking with others. That’s why some publishers will list questions at the back of an author’s book, but I decided to share these kind of questions on my blog. My plan is to eventually have questions for all of my books, so stay tuned.

Today’s book is MADversary.

Oh! As always…if you haven’t read the book yet, you might want to skip the questions, because they’re likely to be full of spoilers!

The blurb:

They make sweet music together, but can it last?

 

Megan Walker doesn’t plan to attend her high school reunion, but her best friend Lisa begs her to come along. Megan doesn’t want to risk running into her old boyfriend Tyler Green, a man who has since become a rich and famous rock star, the frontman of a heavy metal band called Madversary. Lisa convinces her that Tyler would never show up for something like a reunion, so Megan gives in, only to regret it. Because when Tyler does show up, the spark reignites, and she doesn’t know that she can bear letting him go again.

The questions:

Rock star romance books are very often a series, but this book was written as a standalone, and Jade has assured readers that it will stay that way. Does this book lend itself to be a series? Why or why not? Which do you prefer when it comes to the rock star romance subgenre—standalone books or series?

Jade has said that the antagonist seems too broadly drawn, meaning she’s two-dimensional, lacking depth. How do you feel about Tamara? Did she seem unrealistic? If so, did that ruin the book for you?

Do you think Tyler and Megan’s relationship will last? What makes you feel that way?

Lisa’s character is part comic relief, part sounding board for Megan. She has a bit of her own drama. Did you like the character of Lisa? Why or why not? How did her own story add to or subtract from Megan’s?

Are there any passages or quotes that stand out to you?

If you could ask Jade one question about this book, what would it be?

If you use these questions for a book club reading, I’d love to know how it goes. If you come up with other questions, I’d love to hear them! Happy reading!

Looking for book club questions for a specific Jade book? You can use the search box at the top of the page to look through tags for the book you’re looking for or you can click the tag below that says (or search for) Book Club questions.

LIES (Nicki Sosebee #10) is LIVE!!!

 

Lies

(Nicki Sosebee #10)

Jade C. Jamison

BUCKLE UP! 

Genres: Romantic Suspense, Contemporary Romance, Erotic Romance

Audience: 18+ due to sexual situations, adult language, and sexual abuse

Don’t have your copy yet?  Here are the places where it’s live (and I’ll update this post when it goes live elsewhere!):

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1SbdkOP

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1OZ3Yii

Kobo: http://bit.ly/24v20l0

iTunes: http://apple.co/1KZ4rWD

Blurb

From here on out, the Nicki Sosebee series is getting darker.

BUCKLE UP.

Like a dog with a bone, Nicki cannot help but continue to pursue realtor-turned-politician Gina McCafferty as the woman persists in making her play for Winchester’s open City Council seat. But Nicki is learning over and over again that there is more than meets the eye when it comes to her fair city. Meanwhile, her personal life is topsy-turvy, and a tattoo artist named Hunter makes Nicki’s life a living hell.

Alliances are tested. Lines are drawn. And events are set in motion that will play out in deadly ways…

Excerpt

“Something wrong?”

Nicki realized she was gritting her teeth—not making noise or anything, but definitely clenching them so that her jaw was tense. “Oh, sorry.” She swallowed. “Maybe today I should just get my nose pierced.”

What? She’d lost her mind.

No, this was good. Change was good. Especially now.

Hunter nodded. “That’s not a bad idea. You’ve got a good nose for it.” She snorted then and peals of laughter flowed from her mouth. He gave her a puzzled look.

“Sorry. I write part-time for the Tribune, and my boss has told me I have a nose for news.” She laughed again and he forced a smile. “Sorry. I really have had way too much to drink. Maybe I should leave.”

He touched her forearm. “No, you’re fine. You’re just a bit giddy, and that might be due to a little adrenaline flowing through your veins.”

“Adrenaline?”

“Yeah, as you prep yourself for a little pain.”

“Oh…how bad does that hurt?”

He flipped his hand, palm up, grinning and shrugging, and then he shook his head. “I’ve never had my nose pierced, so I don’t know. Piercing itself, though? Kind of depends on where you’re getting pierced and what your pain tolerance is. I had a shitload to drink before I got pierced, and it didn’t hurt at all.”

“You have a piercing? Where?” Nicki couldn’t see any holes anywhere—not on his ears or face. Maybe his nipples?

He grinned again, standing and extending his hand to her. “A guy’s gotta have a few secrets. Come on. Let’s go get you prepped.”

Praise

“Excellent new addition to the series and definitely now one of my favorites!” ~ Sue Banner

“Way intense read…NICKI IS BACK!!” ~ Angie J, Twinsie Talk Book Blog

Series Info (additional purchase links below)

1 Got the Life

2 Dead

3 No Place to Hide

4 Right Now

5 One More Time

6 Lost

7 Innocent Bystander

8 Blind

9 Fake

10 Lies

RELEASE DATES OF THE REMAINING BOOKS TO BE ANNOUNCED:

11 Dead Bodies Everywhere

12 Wake Up

13 Alive

Purchase Links for Series Books

Nicki Sosebee Foursome (books 1-4)…ON SALE TODAY!

Amazon: http://amzn.to/VaenU7

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1kUdBqq

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1nG0Vhq

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1ur64Qw

Nicki Sosebee Foursome 2 (books 5-8)…ON SALE TODAY!

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1kuKmtO

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/XTRx4N

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1oU4jtJ

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1TJXnQk

Got the Life (Nicki Sosebee #1)

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1bq7m8T

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1l2p19U

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1fkxjGp

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1uwa8BM

iTunes: http://bit.ly/1nr11jG

Dead (Nicki Sosebee #2)

Amazon: http://amzn.to/MeW2QZ

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1eYBdQB

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/NeOAGi

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1mDxLWo

iTunes: http://bit.ly/1vpywTy

No Place to Hide (Nicki Sosebee #3)

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1bPkeG0

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1bPitsi

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1l2suFk

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1DCMq6L

iTunes: http://bit.ly/1sLY5d1

Right Now (Nicki Sosebee #4)

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1ebbcxe

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1h1ic4A

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1hz51ek

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1ur6uGK

iTunes: http://bit.ly/1w4E8VH

One More Time (Nicki Sosebee #5)

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1d5OUxr

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1cuF6A9

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1meNjvk

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1rj4WhQ

iTunes: http://bit.ly/1nUYOrf

Lost (Nicki Sosebee #6)

Amazon: http://amzn.to/Ofhwz2

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/Offuiq

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1fkxQYX

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1nTXXMS

iTunes: http://bit.ly/1q5kgv1

Innocent Bystander (Nicki Sosebee #7)

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1BrkYHU

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1DNjrjA

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1pzQoW1

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1o3bj9Q

iTunes: http://bit.ly/10JajgQ

Blind (Nicki Sosebee #8)

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1oooHjz

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1094TLA

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1uwl6Hs

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1EagVTI

iTunes: http://bit.ly/1zoZa2X

Fake (Nicki Sosebee #9)

Amazon: http://amzn.to/MJ3Tq6

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1cosH3d

Barnes & Noble: http://tinyurl.com/ph9slh7

Sunday Q&A: Book Series

What are your thoughts about book series as opposed to standalone novels?

Years ago, when I realized that my writing naturally gravitated to the romance genre, I didn’t consider writing a series at all. My ideas all revolved around standalone topics—girl meets boy; they have some bumps and hitches along the way; but eventually they live happily ever after. I hadn’t considered a series, in spite of the fact that some of my favorite stories have been series (most of them are mystery-based, but they are still series).

In 2011, after having published Tangled Web, though, I started getting author newsletters from KDP (Amazon’s Kindle Direct Publishing). One of the first ones I received featured an interview with John Locke, the indie author who’d just sold one million ebooks, and so he wrote a book with that title—How I Sold 1 Million eBooks in 5 Months. In spite of my thoughts about that book today, one of the things that impressed me at the time was how Locke had captured a built-in audience with his series (and he was starting a second series at the time he published his book on making it as an indie author). Readers kept coming back because they loved the character of Donovan Creed and wanted to see what would happen next. And we see that over and over again, don’t we? Stephanie Plum, Christian Grey, Harry Potter, James Bond. Those books might be plot-driven, but they’re also character-driven. We read them not just for the “latest adventure” but even more for the overarching story. We want to know what’s going to happen next in the grand scheme of things.

But I didn’t just want to do it because of a built-in reader base. Writing for me is not mercenary. I would write if no one read my work (but I have to admit—I love it when they do!), and I did for years. Writing is also not a get-rich-quick scheme. Writing is instead telling stories and entertaining readers. And so I looked back on some of the novels I have loved the most—yes, there are hundreds of standalones on my list, but there are lots of series too, and I know I loved them because I loved the characters. It started in my youth, with Encyclopedia Brown, Nancy Drew, and Trixie Belden (a character I recall as having a lot more depth and believability—and even growth—than my beloved Nancy Drew), but it quickly expanded and grew. I loved the detective novels of A.A. Fair, thanks to the characters Donald Lam and Bertha Cool. And that trend of loving characters and their stories continues to this day—not just old faves like Hercule Poirot, but new ones like Sookie Stackhouse come to mind.

What’s cool about series is that, as both a writer and a reader, you grow with the characters, and because there are multiple stories in the same universe, you enjoy a richer experience. So, first, I started with the Nicki Sosebee series (her multiple-book story was planned), but when I had readers ask for more (they wanted follow ups to both Tangled Web and Bullet), I wasn’t about to refuse. I know how much I love book series, so I wanted to give my readers the same. What’s not to love about a good series?

Got a question for me? Post it in the comments and I’ll do my best to answer it either here or in a future post!