Elizabeth Barone's Blog: Elizabeth Barone's Blog, page 18
September 20, 2023
A Touch of Gold, Chapter 1
Goldie
Caterpillar eyebrows. They were all I could think about as I set up my tattoo station. The eyebrows in question belonged to David, the guy I crushed on through all four years of high school, and he had no idea. Thank goodness, because that would be embarrassing. I hadn’t seen him since I left everything I knew to create the life I dreamed of. A decade later, I was right back where I started, in Stagwood Falls, the town I grew up in.
Grew up, left, came back—David took that same path. I might’ve been long over my crush, but I was curious. Had he grown into those caterpillars, and did he have the same melty chocolate eyes that used to give me butterflies? Those were my burning questions, but what I was really dying to know was what he wanted me to tattoo on him.
We had an appointment any minute.
I left the shop for our apartment in the back, joining my sister Kinsley and our grandfather in the kitchen. She chewed a piece of honey wheat toast with Nutella, some of which was smeared across her deep brown skin.
“You got a little something.” I tapped my own face.
“Don’t judge me,” she said, dabbing it off with a napkin. “I haven’t been able to stop eating this stuff since I got laid off.”
“Girl, I get it. Chocolate makes everything better,” I said with a gentle smile. “Any luck renting a chair at Faith’s salon?”
She shook her head. “She’s full, but she said she’ll call me first if she loses anyone.” She shrugged. “I still can’t believe Paola’s closed. I’ve worked there since I was sixteen, but what can ya do?”
I gave her shoulder a squeeze. “We’re all right. We’re all caught up on taxes now, so you’ve got plenty of time to find a chair somewhere.”
“For now,” she agreed with a sigh. “I was on Poppy to close the music shop for the longest time, swearing up and down I could handle the taxes on our building. I feel like I let him down. I feel like I let you down.”
“Never,” I assured her. “You held it down here while I was running around New Haven, chasing my dream. It’s your turn now. There’s no rush. I’ll keep us in ramen,” I joked.
Poppy lowered his newspaper with a momentous crinkle. I’d almost forgotten he was sitting at the kitchen table with us. “I will not eat that stuff,” he proclaimed. “It’s basically Styrofoam.”
My grandfather, who’d raised us after our parents died, was the most stubborn person I knew. He was also my favorite person in the whole wide world.
“The dollar stuff in the store, sure. Come out to the city with me sometime for a real bowl of ramen, you’ll be singing a different tune.”
“I still can’t believe you actually lived in New Haven,” Kinsley said. “Shootings on the news every day.” She shuddered. “No offense to Sabella, but I could never do it. Give me sleepy little Stagwood Falls any day.”
“The city does have a lot of crime,” I agreed, “but the gossip mill here, whew! You could dance naked in the street in New Haven and no one would even look at you. People mind their business.”
“True. I was at Faith’s the other day,” Kinsley said, patting her fresh braids, “and the way people were talking about your tattoo shop, you would’ve thought you’re over here giving little kids tattoos.”
I chuckled. “Nah, mostly it’s the heathens from New Haven county. Which we should all be grateful for because they keep me in business, our taxes paid, and these potholes filled. What’s the deal with that, anyway? Seems like the roads here are worse than ever.”
“Budget issues,” Poppy said. “We just had a big ol’ debate at the last town meeting about whether to fill those holes or replace the broken slide at the elementary school. Guess which won?”
“I’ll give you a hint,” Kinsley said. “It’s neither. Matthews and David Mosconi have a special renovation project.”
I sipped my coffee. “Why you gotta say his name like that? I remember him. And those caterpillar eyebrows.”
“Do you remember how much you used to crush on him?” She giggled. “It was always David this, David that. Grannie and I had money on when you two would get together.”
“It wasn’t like that. We were just friends.”
She scoffed. “Friends who went to concerts together. You even asked him to prom.”
“Don’t remind me,” I groaned. He’d turned me down. I changed the subject. “Poppy, did you change the music again?” I already knew the answer. I’d turned on a Foo Fighters mix before I went up front, but an old doowop song played through the speakers. “I know this is your building,” I said, “but you said the shop was mine.”
Kinsley looked from me to Poppy, an amused smile on her lips.
“This is the kitchen,” he said without looking up from his newspaper.
He was eighty-three, and he’d spent the length of my thirty-four years playing country, doowop, and soul with a band. He thought my music was just a bunch of noise, and I thought his music was old.
Thankfully my best friend and business partner thundered down the stairs before my grandfather and I could get into our clashing tastes in music.
“Ready,” Sabella announced, wincing as she spotted Poppy. “Sorry for the noise.” She bent to tighten the strap of her boot.
He waved a hand at her. “If you think that’s noise, you should’ve been around when they dug the lake.”
Kinsley and I glanced at each other, sharing a smile. We both knew that story by heart.
“When they dug the lake?” Sabella asked. “You mean Stagwood Lake isn’t natural?”
“Oh, no,” he said, putting down his paper and facing his rapt audience. Discreetly, I glanced at the time. “They dug it when I was a boy. They paid me one dollar for every body I moved.”
“One dollar for every . . .body?” Sabella repeated.
Poppy nodded. “Oh yeah. They flooded it out.”
“They killed people?” She gaped at him.
We’d been in town for barely three weeks, and Poppy hadn’t wasted any time in catching Sabella up on old family stories. I loved how Poppy immediately treated her the same way he did Kinsley and me. When Sabella moved to town with me, only Kinsley had met her in person, but she fit right into our little family.
“Time to go to work.” I grabbed my Thermos and looped my arm through one of hers, tugging her to the front of the building where my tattoo shop waited.
“Mean boss,” Sabella teased. “I wanna hear the rest of the story.”
“I could tell it to you from memory.” I unlocked the front door, flipped the sign to open, and went into the room I’d converted into my station to set up.
In the front room that served as our lobby, Sabella tapped the iPad, bringing up the app that tracked our appointments. “What are you doing for your ten o’clock?”
I looked up from the inks I was squirting into tiny caps. “David? I’m not sure. I think it’s just a consult. I think you might’ve scheduled him.”
I wondered what he sounded like. I remembered his voice as less of a sound and more of a feeling, sweet and warm.
“I think,” she said, “that was the guy who didn’t sound too sure, himself. First he said maybe a tattoo for his mom.”
“His mom? She’s still alive, as far as I know.” I hoped so. Both of us lost more in high school than any kid ever should.
“Well, you’ve got a pretty open day,” she said, “so you’ve got plenty of time.”
I was gonna need something a lot stronger than coffee.
I hadn’t seen him in a good decade. I’d deactivated my Facebook ages ago, so I probably couldn’t even pick him out of a lineup. From what Poppy said, he’d taken a position as the new city planner. I had to Google what that meant. Basically, he was the one to talk to if our little town was ever going to get a Starbucks.
A girl needed some Pink Drink now and then, even if it was straight sugar.
Right on cue, the bells attached to the front door cheerily announced his arrival.
I hurried out to meet him in the front room before Sabella could get to him, skidding to a halt when I saw him.
The short kid I’d crushed on for his personality and love of the Foo Fighters was gone. In his place stood a tall man with melted chocolate eyes. The only thing that hadn’t changed were those caterpillar eyebrows.
“Hey, Goldie.” He stood tall in his tailored suit, his eyes appreciatively taking in the shop until they settled on me. “The place looks great. So do you.” I watched his full lips, mesmerized by the way they hugged every word. Kind of like how his suit clung to muscles that definitely hadn’t been there when we graduated.
I rocked back on my heels, feeling hot under his gaze. No way could I keep it professional, not with the way he shrugged out of his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves, exposing long arms full of muscle and a completely blank canvas.
“Thank you,” I stammered a full minute later.
“Smooth,” Sabella commented from her spot at the front desk, low enough that only I could hear. I hoped.
David smiled at me, his lips parting to expose straight white teeth, all while never breaking eye contact.
I felt practically naked, standing there in my black crop top and biker shorts. Clearing my throat, I switched to professional mode. I needed to get through his appointment without staring at him like a piece of meat. I knew most men changed drastically between high school and adulthood, but damn, what a glow up. He’d gone from cute in a kinda goofy way to full-on GQ hottie.
I hoped his personality had flourished in the same way.
“So hi,” he said again, this time holding his arms open.
I stepped into him, meaning to keep the hug quick. The second his arms closed around me, though, my body melted into his.
“How’ve you been?” he asked, his voice a gentle murmur in my ear. “You look incredible.”
“You smell incredible,” I blurted, his cologne still in my nostrils even as I stepped back. “What’re you wearing?”
“I showered,” he said with a shrug. “This place is beautiful.” He did a loop around the lobby, admiring the walls I’d painted a lush forest green, the gold skulls on the shelves popping nicely against it. Even the sofa I’d thrifted in the city had gold hardware. “You built this.” His eyes shimmered with pride.
I waved him off, but beamed with pride. It’d taken literal sweat, blood, and tears, with a dash of tattoo ink. There were days I’d felt so overwhelmed, I didn’t want to get out of bed, but standing in that lobby, I was glad I’d shoved myself out of my comfort zone time and time again.
“How about you? Mr. City Planner.” I gave him a gentle shove. “I had to Google that. You gonna get me a Starbucks here, or at least a Target?”
He chuckled. “You know how slowly the wheel turns here.”
“And how. Your boy Matthews made me jump through hoops to get this place approved. Do you know he made me write an essay? An essay!” I laughed, but I was still annoyed, weeks and weeks later.
“An essay? About what?”
“About how this heathenous tattoo shop is going to bring in tourism. I basically told him that all the New Haven people who come in here will like it so much, they’ll never want to leave.” I cackled. “I also reminded him that we’re paid up on our taxes now, and I have all the necessary licenses and permits. Gregory Allen Matthews the third. Can’t forget those Roman numerals. Can you believe that kid became our mayor? The one who insisted instead of having our prom at the Gardner barn, like every class since the dawn of time, we just had to have it at Forcella’s inn. Which is beautiful,” I conceded, “but—”
“No room for dancing,” we both said, laughing.
Sabella made a face. “No dancing? What kind of prom is that?”
“The kind that haunts Matthews wherever he goes,” I said. “What’s he like as mayor? As your boss?” I asked David.
“He’s all right,” he evaded.
“Just all right? No tea to spill for your girl, huh? Well, in due time,” I teased. “So what’re we doing today?” I motioned for him to follow me back. I might’ve been imagining it, but I swore I felt his eyes on my ass.
“I was thinking I’d get a memorial portrait of my dad,” he said as we settled into my station.
I nodded, my heart squeezing for him. I’d lost my parents and he’d lost his dad right around the same time. Two sides of the same coin—my parents were killed by a drunk driver, and his dad died from a bad liver.
I hated to tell him I wasn’t a portrait artist. Nailing someone’s likeness was its own niche, one I’d never mastered. “That would be lovely. It’s more Sabella’s vein, though, so let me grab her real quick.”
“I’ll just get something else,” he said quickly. He rubbed at his chiseled chin, his fingers scraping over stubble. When I’d left Stagwood Falls, he’d barely had facial hair.
I swallowed.
“Maybe I’ll get a cat,” David said.
“From the shelter?”
“No, a tattoo. Can you do a cat?”
“That I can do,” I said. “Do you want one like your dad’s? Whatever happened to that little guy, anyway?” I turned to my desk with its lightboard, already grabbing a pencil.
“He lived to fifteen. Can you believe that? It really does look great in here,” David said. “I remember taking guitar lessons in this room, I think.”
“Good memory. I always thought this room had the best natural light and was kind of wasted as a studio.” Like the lobby, I’d decorated it in deep green and gold. Just a few weeks earlier, it’d still rocked the dark red paint of my grandfather’s guitar shop.
Touch of Gold was just another incarnation of the little shop and apartment that had been in my family for generations.
I was about to ask him if he had a picture of his dad’s cat on him when he stood from his seat, pacing the room.
“I’m sure you’ve heard, I’m the city planner now,” he said.
“That’s cool. Not gonna lie, I’m still not really sure what that is,” I admitted.
“Most of the time, it’s glorified babysitting. I don’t usually get to plan much, but now Mayor Matthews and I are working on a big project,” he said.
“Kinsley mentioned something about it.” I set down my pencil. “What are y’all doing?”
“Yeah, so, basically tourism is our town’s main income, but it’s only seasonal, right? So it’s always a struggle.”
I nodded. So far, the only clients I had were the ones willing to make the hour drive from my old spot in the city. They were enough to keep us afloat, and not much else. I knew it’d take some time to rebuild my clientele, especially in a small lake town that was already gasping for air. The people here didn’t exactly have the kind of disposable income it took to get a tattoo, and there weren’t a whole lot of young people, either.
“My plan is to bring some new blood into the town,” David said.
“That sounds like music to my ears,” I said. “Half the block is empty. That little record store we used to hang out at is closed.” I shook my head.
“Phoenix Records,” he said mournfully. “That guy had the best recommendations. Spotify ain’t got nothing on him.”
“Hey, maybe you should get a Foo Fighters tattoo. Like mine.” I tugged up the hem of my biker shorts to show him the double Fs I got the second I turned eighteen.
“Nice,” he purred, his eyes trailing up my thigh.
“This is the first tattoo I ever did.”
“You did that on yourself?” He whistled.
“Hurt like a bitch, and looked even worse. Thankfully, I got better and cleaned it up. I could give you a matching one, here,” I said, touching his forearm.
He looked down at where my fingers brushed his skin, then directly at me. He towered at least a foot above me, but in that moment we were eye to eye. Combined with the heat that flared where we touched, and I knew I hadn’t imagined his eyes on my ass.
“I’m real sorry I didn’t take you to prom,” he murmured, his gaze hazy.
“Why didn’t you? We’d be married with like, three kids by now,” I joked.
“Probably more like five,” he said, and with the heated way he watched his words hit me, it didn’t feel like a joke at all.
I licked my lips. This was the part where he asked me out, or at least slid into my DMs. I hadn’t planned on getting into anything with anyone in town. My family and the shop were my priorities. But he caught my hand in his, and every atom in me hopped around the way I danced at a Foo Fighters concert.
There was only one thing standing in my way.
“You’re not, like, married or anything, right?” I said it with a laugh, but inside I was dying.
“Currently single,” he said.
I squeezed his hand. “Not for long.”
Everything Goldie touches turns to gold, so when the building that’s been in her family for generations is in trouble, her family calls on her to help save it. Moving back to her hometown and back in with her family comes with definite perks—like no more rent—and emotional baggage in the form of Goldie’s high school crush turned hottie David. When she sees him again, all those old feelings come rushing back—and are quickly dampened when she finds out he wants to tear down her building to build a “better” Main Street.
For as long as David can remember, Stagwood Falls has been a small-town summer vacation hotspot. It’s the kind of town that will charm the socks off of anyone who decides to drive through no matter the season, and it’s his job to make sure Stagwood Falls stands out on the map all year around. All he needs to do is convince the townspeople to get on board, even if it means making some sacrifices. When Goldie returns to Stagwood Falls, David is immediately drawn to her just as he was back in high school. This time around, he’ll do whatever it takes to get her attention. What David doesn’t expect is for Goldie to be so opposed to his new revitalization strategy that she’s hellbent on throwing a massive wrench in his plan.
A Touch of Gold
Stagwood Falls: Love in Ink Series
Book 1
Kobo Originals
September 12, 2023
Dawn Cuts Grease AND Transphobes
My husband left, and I was out of Dawn.
But I had a Benlysta hangover.
It wasn’t a bad one, compared to other weekends. Sometimes my injections completely wipe me out. Sometimes there’s diarrhea and muscle aches. I dragged my ass to the store, proud of myself for making it out of the house—and on my own, to boot. I’m never more grateful for everything Mike does for me than on the weekends he’s at a convention. It’s the little things like grabbing Dawn on his way home during the week that make life easier for me. It’s always empowering when I do something on my own, though, reclaiming pieces of myself that UCTD took.
I walked through the store saying hello to everyone I passed. I smiled at a pair of teen boys because their hairstyles reminded me of my oldest godson. That floppy, curly hair that every boy is currently rocking. I grabbed my $10 jug of Dawn and got in line. A lone cashier was checking out an elderly couple, and the husband of the pair kept apologizing to the rest of us in line for their long order.
“You are just fine,” we all assured him.
I was thinking about my next stop—mentally preparing, kinda just lost in thought. Tuning out those same teen boys talking shit to each other. Some boys/men have this weird love language where they playfully verbally abuse each other. I don’t get it, but when I gained a couple brothers-in-law, I learned it’s usually harmless. So I wasn’t fully paying attention until I heard, “You’re a fucking f*ggot, I’mma beat your ass. My brother’s a f*ggot, and I beat his ass for it.”
A white boy, using a blaccent, trying to sound hood and hard. I still thought maybe he was talking shit to his friend, so while I didn’t love what he was saying, and I’m kinda tired of small town white kids talking like that when they wouldn’t last ten minutes in the actual hood, I was trying to ignore it. Then everything happened fast.
Everyone acted at the same time. It was like all of us in the front end of the store discussed it and coordinated, but we didn’t. It just happened. You can’t tell me groupthink is a bad thing anymore. Not after what I experienced.
(FYI, I’m referring to people as how they presented, but please keep in mind I don’t mean it in any way other than just differentiating each person for clarity. Cool? Cool.)
The female cashier stepped out from behind the counter, calling for the male employee on shift. “John!”
“Yeah!” The way he said it, he already knew what she was going to say, and there was no need for her to finish. He came up front, along with a second female cashier who started ringing out the next customer.
“You can’t talk to him like that,” the first cashier said to the teen boys. “You gotta leave.”
“They started it,” they insisted.
“Nope. Out,” I said, along with the other customers in line. “Not cool.”
The other thirty-something woman in line, who’d already checked out via the second cashier, walked over to me and the first female cashier, also telling the boys they had to go.
As they slunk out of the store, the second cashier reminded them that we live in a small town; if she called the cops, they’d be at the store in two seconds.
Just as I was wondering where the other party to this was, two very scared looking teens inched out of the aisles and into the line.
“We didn’t even do anything,” the blonde teen girl said. “I don’t understand.”
“Yeah, like, am I going to get jumped out there?” The Latino teen boy, wearing a crop top, looked so young, even as he tried to laugh it off.
“No you’re not,” I said. “We’ll walk you out.”
“Did you guys drive here?” the other thirty-something woman asked.
“We walked,” the girl said.
“Then I’ll drive you. Wherever you’re going,” she said. “Just excuse my messy car and the kids in the back seat.”
“I guess we’ll go back to my house, then. We’re not far,” the girl said. “I don’t even know if they’re still out there.”
“I looked. They’re gone,” the mom said. “And I’ll drive you home.”
I walked out first, checking the parking lot again because I didn’t trust that they’d actually left. I don’t think I’ve ever shared this with you, but when I was in seventh grade, I was jumped by another girl. Twice. The second time, she stalked me home.
As suspected, I immediately spotted a car with a bumper sticker that said “I only get pulled over by gay cops.” No mystery who it belonged to. And just as I was watching the mom get into her car with the teen girl and boy, the other teens walked out of the adjacent Auto Zone and got into the car I’d clocked—with a third boy who I hadn’t even noticed in DG.
I waited until I saw the mom’s car pull out, then I left, too. Thankfully the assholes hadn’t noticed them get into that car.
I drove away shaking with adrenaline and anger/sadness that people are still so closed-minded that they’re teaching their children that this behavior is okay. Clearly they learned that shit somewhere. But I was also really proud of everyone in that DG. Especially the employees, who handled it calmly and quickly. What was wild was how everyone immediately stood together to protect that boy, without even conferring, without even seeing who we were protecting. We just jumped in, assisting as a team even though none of us knew each other. It truly was incredible. We were the adults I needed as a teen. The adults so many of us needed.
What got me was, the punks didn’t seem to even know the teens they were harassing. They apparently saw the crop top and were triggered by a piece of clothing. (By the way, who is allowed to wear crop tops? Because teen girls get called slutty, and thirty-something women get told we’re too old, and apparently teen boys can’t wear them, either? I don’t even know if he was gay, or trans, or non-binary, or just wearing something that’s currently wildly popular yet still somehow so very offensive.)
I like to think that it’s now cool to be queer, that the balance has shifted and those of us labeled as weird when I was in high school are now accepted, or even popular. Then something like this happens and reminds me that queerphobia is very much still rampant. But what has gotten better is how people respond to it. Even total strangers at DG.
Your local hermit author Auntie Liz has no problem washing dishes—or washing out potty mouths. That’s the power of Dawn.
May 20, 2023
A Touch of Gold 💛 ARCs Now Available
A Touch of Gold ARCs are here!
Everything Goldie touches turns to gold, so when the building that’s been in her family for generations is in trouble, her family calls on her to help save it. Moving back to her hometown and back in with her family comes with definite perks—like no more rent—and emotional baggage in the form of Goldie’s high school crush turned hottie David. When she sees him again, all those old feelings come rushing back—and are quickly dampened when she finds out he wants to tear down her building to build a “better” Main Street.
For as long as David can remember, Stagwood Falls has been a small-town summer vacation hotspot. It’s the kind of town that will charm the socks off of anyone who decides to drive through no matter the season, and it’s his job to make sure Stagwood Falls stands out on the map all year around. All he needs to do is convince the townspeople to get on board, even if it means making some sacrifices. When Goldie returns to Stagwood Falls, David is immediately drawn to her just as he was back in high school. This time around, he’ll do whatever it takes to get her attention. What David doesn’t expect is for Goldie to be so opposed to his new revitalization strategy that she’s hellbent on throwing a massive wrench in his plan.
May 14, 2023
A TOUCH OF GOLD Cover Reveal
I’m so excited to show you the cover for A Touch of Gold! A few months ago, I signed a four-book deal with Kobo Originals. The team at Kobo is passionate about books, and working with them has been a dream come true. I know that’s cliche, but truly—it’s been everything I hoped it’d be, and more. I’m now able to focus more on writing (and healing, but that’s another blog post), and I already see so much growth in my craft!
I’m the type of writer who is never short on ideas, just energy, so having the team at Kobo handle all the details while I do my thing… utterly glorious. They cooked up this cover with Ukrainian designers MIBLART, incorporating flowers with illustration, and using the colors from Goldie’s tattoo shop in the book! I love the way the gold lettering pops against the rich purples and greens. Check it out!
A Touch of GoldStagwood Falls: Love In Ink Series, Book 1
Everything Goldie touches turns to gold, so when the building that’s been in her family for generations is in trouble, her family calls on her to help save it. Moving back to her hometown and back in with her family comes with definite perks—like no more rent—and emotional baggage in the form of Goldie’s high school crush turned hottie David. When she sees him again, all those old feelings come rushing back—and are quickly dampened when she finds out he wants to tear down her building to build a “better” Main Street.
For as long as David can remember, Stagwood Falls has been a small-town summer vacation hotspot. It’s the kind of town that will charm the socks off of anyone who decides to drive through no matter the season, and it’s his job to make sure Stagwood Falls stands out on the map all year around. All he needs to do is convince the townspeople to get on board, even if it means making some sacrifices. When Goldie returns to Stagwood Falls, David is immediately drawn to her just as he was back in high school. This time around, he’ll do whatever it takes to get her attention. What David doesn’t expect is for Goldie to be so opposed to his new revitalization strategy that she’s hellbent on throwing a massive wrench in his plan.
Available May 30th
ARCs will be available via NetGalley soon! Get on my email list for updates plus an exclusive sneak peek!
October 20, 2022
My Problem with Olivia
It’s hard for me to write Olivia in A Lasting Prospect. There, I said it. She’s carrying an unplanned pregnancy while living with the trauma of being emotionally abandoned by her mother. Those are heavy subjects for me to contend with while writing.
I’d love to be expecting my first child. Because I have UCTD, take chemo and biologics for the UCTD, and have endometriosis, it’s a little tricky. I’d have to get into remission without my weekly injections, which I’ve never been able to do. All the while, I can practically hear the clock ticking; I’m 34, which is geriatric in lady years. 
Being in Olivia’s head is not an easy place for me to be, and the same goes for writing Lucy in the spinoff novella Burning for Stixx. They both have what I want and can’t have (not right now, anyway). This whole time, I thought I was struggling with some weird writer’s block, some inability to let go (A Lasting Prospect was supposed to be the final book* in the River Reapers MC series, and Burning for Stixx will be my last time writing Lucy). I just realized that’s only part of the problem, that my real problem is the baby thing.
At least now I know! At least now I can work through it so that I can finally finish these books. Now I can stop beating on myself for being a “lazy” writer. I’m not lazy, I’m sad. What a relief! 
In the meantime, I’ve been working on Augustina Bianca books. I’m not sure if I announced this, but from here on, all of my small town romances will be published under the name Augustina Bianca. This includes yet-to-be-published titles like A Cloud Full of Sound and Touch of Gold, and currently-out-of-print titles like Just One More Minute and The Stairs Between Us. (They will be available again soon.)
There are a lot of things up in the air right now—exciting things I can’t share yet—and I promise you, even though it doesn’t look like much is happening, a lot is happening behind the scenes. I never stopped writing and developing new books/series, and if you follow @AugustinaBiancaRomance, you know I’m currently pitching to agents/publishers.
I’m doing everything in my power to make sure that 2023 makes up for me only publishing one book in the 2020-2022 time period. Wish me luck, and get your TBR shelves ready!
Photo by Sara Rolin on Unsplash
*It might still be the final book. I’ve got a lot of plot I’m trying to wrap up in just one book, so I’ll have to reevaluate when I have a finished manuscript.
July 28, 2022
I Made a Mistake so Big, I Almost Quit Writing
I knew something wasn’t right, so I sent my email list a survey, and when I got the results, I almost quit writing.
When I was really sick with my UCTD, I took to writing some shorter projects to a) keep my writing muscles flexed and b) take my mind off the pain. I didn’t have the stamina for writing full-length novels, so I started with just vomiting a couple paragraphs onto my iPad, moved to vignettes about the River Reapers in their own lockdown, advanced to writing a novella, and eventually graduated. I wrote a novel, then started A Lasting Prospect (what was supposed to be the River Reapers series finale). About 20,000-30,000 words in, I hit a wall. Something just wasn’t working. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure it out—and I’d outlined the damn book this time*!
So I started another book. (My email list and Patreon supporters know it as Tattooed Heart.) While writing that book, I got hit with one disaster after another: COVID again, car shit the bed, found out my UCTD is essentially ruining my teeth and I need not one, not two, but three root canals… All of which wipes out the budget I’d set aside for publishing my next book.
In hindsight, it kind of worked out. See, I got a little caught up all in the shiny new books I’d written, and couldn’t decide what to publish next. It was as if every character was banging on my door, demanding my attention.
It was overwhelming.
I decided to let my readers decide.
I was confident you’d all want the small town romances I’ve been quietly writing. So confident, in fact, I went ahead and set up a Patreon so that everyone could see what I’ve been working on while supporting my next release. I launched it, sent a newsletter to my email list, and waited, expecting excitement. Instead I got crickets.
For good reason! I’d unintentionally confused some readers, turned off some others, and basically muddied up the brand I’ve been working so hard at building since publishing A Disturbing Prospect in 2018.
The survey I sent my email list last week confirmed what I already knew deep down: while a handful of my readers are interested in the small town romances, most of you only have eyes for the next River Reapers book. And that’s totally understandable.
So, I’m gonna quit screwin’ around and get back to our bikers.
I’ll save the small town romances for later, maybe publish them under a pen name. For now, I can only mentally and fiscally focus on one project, anyway.
While writing Tattooed Heart, I finally figured out what was wrong with A Lasting Prospect: it’s not the last book! I was trying to wrap up everything in roughly 80,000 words, and… yeah, that wasn’t happening. I’d planned on moving on to a spinoff series, and I’m still developing that, but for now the River Reapers series will continue with Cliff and Olivia’s story, as well as more spinoff novellas.
Speaking of, my first priority is to get Stixx and Lucy’s novella to you. Burning for Stixx has already been to my editor, but it’s still not right, so I’m rewriting it. My original plot felt forced to me, and I have something even better in mind.
I’m returning my focus to the River Reapers. You might’ve noticed I’ve pulled my other romances from most retailers. And, as the summer continues, you’ll notice I’m quiet on social media again. That’s because I’m in the writing cave, hanging out with our favorite bikers.
See you on the other side…
*Sometimes I don’t outline, and sometimes my editor busts me.
July 12, 2022
Playlist for A CLOUD FULL OF SOUND
I guess you could call A Cloud Full of Sound a pandemic book.
I wrote the original novella in almost complete isolation when I was very sick with a UCTD flare in 2020. As I started feeling better but the pandemic shutdown continued, I expanded it into a novel.
Sonnie and Asher are almost completely isolated, too. First they’re recording in Sonnie’s mother’s basement, and then they move into a ratty apartment. For much of the book, they’re in their own little bubble.
Put some earbuds in and immerse yourself in Sonnie and Asher’s world.
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4Hv...
Which songs do you like?
July 2022 Publishing Schedule
Here’s what I’m publishing this month and when I’m streaming!
Tuesday, July 12th @ 12 a.m. EDT: A Cloud Full of Sound, Chapter 11Wednesday, July 13th @ 1 p.m. EDT: Watch Me Write, Episode 0Tuesday, July 19th @ 12 a.m. EDT: A Cloud Full of Sound, Chapter 12Wednesday, July 20th @ 1 p.m. EDT: Watch Me Write, Episode 1Tuesday, July 26th @ 12 a.m. EDT: A Cloud Full of Sound, Chapter 13Wednesday, July 27th @ 1 p.m. EDT: Watch Me Write, Episode 2Become a member of my Patreon to get all this and more!
When we reach 10 members, I’ll post chapters twice a week. Thank you for your support!
July 11, 2022
I’m Coming Back to Streaming
Come watch me write!
I’m so excited about this, you guys. I absolutely loved streaming on Facebook. I thought about it all the time when I was away from social media. I’m always really nervous before going live, but once we’re chatting, I completely forget to be anxious. To me it feels like we’re hanging out in my living room, just shootin’ the shit.
Which is why I’m bringing it back!
And this time, I’m writing LIVE.
It might just be the craziest idea I’ve ever had.
I still can’t do evenings—I’m just completely out of steam by then, sorry—so we’re going to try Wednesday afternoons. We’re testing this Wednesday, July 13th at 1 p.m. EDT. If that time slot works, we’ll be doing it same day/time every week.
I’m so pumped for this, I’ve been dreaming about it every night since I first announced it. I’m even thinking about some cool things we can do down the road…
But first, let’s test drive this bad boy. Join me on Wednesday, July 13th at 1 p.m. EDT for a special test. We’ll hang out, do a little writing, and make sure I know how to use the screen share button. 
Register now so that you don’t miss it—and you’ll also get some extra goodies!
See you there!
June 8, 2022
How to Post Book Reviews to Apple Books
Welcome to my ARC team! Whether you’re on a tight book budget or want to be more involved with my releases, I’m so happy to have you.
One of the retailers I’d really love more reviews on is Apple Books.
Looking to join my ARC team? Join my email list to be the first to know when more spots open up! Click here.
Apple Books is a little tricky. You have to have some kind of Apple device to use the app. Somehow I’d forgotten this little hurdle, so color me surprised when I went to put together this post!
If you don’t have an Apple device, that’s totally okay. I really appreciate your Amazon, Nook, BookBub, and other reviews!
If you do have an iPhone, MacBook, or some other Apple device, here’s how to post your review.
Create your Apple Books account. Here are step by step instructions from the source: Apple!Download the Apple Books app. You can find it in the App Store or on their website.Search for “Elizabeth Barone” and/or the title of my book that you’d like to review.Rate the book and/or write a short review telling other readers what you liked and didn’t like about the book.By the way, if you’re an Apple user and on my ARC team, please let me know! I’ve got Apple Books codes for all of my books, meaning you won’t have to use BookFunnel or otherwise sideload my books to read and review them. Email me at ARCteam@elizabethbaronebooks.com
My current goal is to reach at least 15 reviews for each book. Thank you so much for your help!
If you have any questions, send me an email at ARCteam@elizabethbaronebooks.com
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