Oliver Clarke's Blog: Little Slices of Nasty, page 23

A Cat Called Hope Returns is out

I started a sequel to A Cat Called Hope some time ago and then put it for one side while I worked on the first draft of my new novel. That’s done now so for the past few days I’ve been finishing off A Cat Called Hope Returns.

The story is done now and available for your Kindle. I’ve tried to stay true to the spirit of the first story and present Marx as a believable feline. There is a bit more derring do and action in the sequel though but hopefully not to the point of ridiculousness.

Amazon US

Amazon UK

A Cat Called Hope Returns

I started a sequel to A Cat Called Hope some time ago and then put it for one side while I worked on the first draft of my new novel. That’s done now so for the past few days I’ve been finishing off A Cat Called Hope Returns.

The story is done now and available for your Kindle. I’ve tried to stay true to the spirit of the first story and present Marx as a believable feline. There is a bit more derring do and action in the sequel though but hopefully not to the point of ridiculousness.

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Update on One Night

The first draft of One Night was completed a couple of days ago. It comes in at just under 90,000 words so pretty much exactly the same length as my first novel, Sunliner. There are a number of things I need to change about it before I publish so I’ll be embarking on a second draft before too long. I want to let it rest for a while first though and then come back to it fresh.

Here’s the cover.

Update on ‘One Night’

I thought I’d post a very brief update on the progress I’m making with my las test project, ‘One Night’, the romantic thriller I posted a preview of a few weeks back. The first draft is, I’d estimate about 50% done and stands at just under 40,000 words.

My intention is to finish it by the end of February (if I continue at the rate I’m going I should beat that date) and then rewrite and edit in March with the hope of getting a preview copy out to a few people for proof reading towards the end of that month.

The plot is completely mapped out and I’m really happy with the chapters I’ve written so far so this all feels quite achievable.

In some ways it’s a very different novel from ‘Sunliner’, it’s subject matter and setting certainly make it (hopefully) more commercially appealing. The structure is very similar though, basically an extended chase sequence set across a single night with extensive flashbacks.

For various reasons I think it will end up being an even more special book for me personally than ‘Sunliner’ is.

Preview of my new romantic crime novel, One Night

It’s been a while since I posted for a variety of reasons, one of which being I’ve been planning a new novel. It’s under way now so I thought I’d share the first 3 chapters. It’s slightly different in style from my other work, more of a mainstream thriller with a strong romantic element. I hope you like it.

Part One – Dusk

Chapter One

“I’m not unhappy,” Joel thought. He was in a cafe on the seafront drinking coffee and trying to decide what his next move was. Sometimes it felt like his whole life had been about trying not to be unhappy. “I am scared though,” he thought. What he didn’t know was whether he was more scared of what he was running to or what he was running from.

It wasn’t summertime but it was still good to be by the coast. Going to the seaside wasn’t really something he’d done as a kid but as he sat there he tried to imagine what it might be like. Maybe later he’d brave the cold and take a walk on the pier. He could play on those 2p machines with the sliding platforms. He didn’t know what they were called but they looked like fun.

Every time someone opened the door the temperature in the place dropped and it was filled with the stench of fish and seaweed and the raucous cries of a dozen seagulls. The cafe wasn’t busy so the door didn’t open often but when it did he’d glance up and check out whoever was coming in. It passed the time. There was a newspaper on the table in front of him but he couldn’t read it. The words just swam around when he looked at them, evading his eyes. When he did manage to focus on them they somehow didn’t make it as far as his brain, or if they did he didn’t manage to decipher them. There was too much going on up there. So instead he looked at his hands as they played with the coffee cup and tried to think. A radio was playing, tuned to some local commercial station, and the sounds coming out of it kept distracting him and breaking his train of thought. All in all he decided he didn’t mind that so much. The woman behind the counter tried to talk to him a few times, asking him if he was visiting, what his plans were, where he was from. Joel answered as briefly as he could each time. Not being rude but letting her know he didn’t want to talk. She was old, reminded him of his gran a bit. Didn’t mean any harm, he told himself, even if she was annoying the hell out of him.

He’d managed to make two drinks and a sandwich last a couple of hours which kept him out of the cold at least. That was worth putting up with her attempts to talk to make conversation. He’d checked his wallet before walking in there, figuring out how much he could spare and still have enough for the rest of the week. There wasn’t a lot in there but he thought he could make it last long enough to get some work. It might be off season but the kind of work he was looking for didn’t rely on the tourist trade.

As the clock on the wall ticked past 4:30 he decided he should leave. It was just him and the old dear. She’d given up trying to talk to him a while ago The last of the other customers had left, leaving the two of them to sit in silence pretending to listen to the radio. The woman’s greying hair was tied up in a bun on the top of head that was so tight it stretched her skin back and made it hard to tell exactly what her expression was. He thought she was starting to scowl at him in a way that was meant to tell him she thought he’d outstayed his welcome. Or maybe she was just upset that he didn’t want to share his life story. Either way it was time to go.

So it was that he was bending down when the door opened again, reaching under the table for his bag, and he didn’t see the blonde walk in. When he looked up she was standing at the counter with her back to him. She was talking to the woman behind the counter who wasn’t scowling now which was an improvement.. It looked to him like they knew each other. He couldn’t make out what they were saying over the radio but the older woman was smiling and her visitor was talking animatedly. They looked happy, the two of them. Joel glanced away, at the door the woman had come through and saw that it was starting to get dark out there. Definitely time to leave, he thought. He needed to find somewhere to sleep for the night and he didn’t fancy trawling the streets in the dark.

He stood and lifted his bag up onto the table. It was heavy, he wasn’t used to the weight of it yet and it still surprised him each time he picked it up. He left it there while he picked his coat up off the back of the chair and slipped his arms into it. It had been alright when it was under the table but out in plain sight like that it made him nervous. He buttoned the coat and hoisted the bag up, swinging it over one shoulder. “Thanks,” he said to the woman with the too tight face.

“Bye, love,” she said back and as she did the blonde turned and looked at him.

She was older than he’d expected, late twenties probably so she had a few years on him. Her face was pretty, not stunning but worth a second glance. Her eyes though, they were beautiful. He only looked into them for a split second before she broke the contact but that was long enough for him to know that she wasn’t happy at all. It was so clear he didn’t know who the other woman could be taken in by her fake smile. Maybe she wanted to believe everything was alright in the world. The blonde turned away from him again. The look on her face had told him she thought he was bad news but had there been a hint of something else there too underneath the disapproval? Maybe. He was used to that hard, go away look. He got it from people when he walked too close to them on the street sometimes. He didn’t know why. The scar on his cheek didn’t help. Nor did the one on his chin. People had given him the look even before he had them though. Some nights when he’d had a beer or two he’d stand in front of a mirror and look at himself and try and figure out what it was but he couldn’t see it. It was there though, whatever it was. He might not be able to see it in his own face but he could see it in other people’s.

The blonde though…she wasn’t just giving him the look. In that split second he’d seen something else, the glimmer of attraction maybe. But then she turned and he lost it.

He pulled the door open and the cold hit him along with the smell and the noise of the birds. He stepped out into it and felt it close around him. He could hear the sea now too and while he didn’t like the stink or the temperature he preferred the sounds out here. Gone was the DJ chatter from the radio and in its place he had the white noise of nature. He didn’t know where he was going so he just walked for a while, hands in his pockets and arms tight against him to keep in the warmth. The cafe was out of the town a bit, he’d chosen it deliberately for that reason, figuring it would be quiet. He’d likely have a bit of a walk before he found a hotel or B&B. Maybe he should go back to the cafe and try his luck with the blonde. Turn on the charm and get himself a free room for the night and a roll in the hay to boot. A year ago he would have done it. A month even. He walked on, into the setting sun. He still didn’t really know what he was doing but the peace was helping him think about it. First step was to find them and ditch the bag. After that he didn’t know. He guessed he’d just do what he’d done most of his life. Play it by ear.

He stopped after a while and put the bag down, giving his shoulder a break. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket. Two left. That might be it for while, he couldn’t spare the money for any more. He lit one anyway, pulling the smoke down deep and relishing it.

He was so busy thinking and staring at the sea he didn’t hear the footsteps. The voice just came out of nowhere, cutting through his thoughts and pulling him back..

“Got a spare?”

Joel turned and saw the blonde.

“Sure,” he said and held the pack out to her.

Chapter Two

The call from Danny that started it all had come out of the blue a week before. Joel had been in another cafe, this one a long way from the seaside. He was having breakfast when the phone rang. Even when he was a bit short of cash he liked to treat himself to a decent fry up at least once a week. When he was a kid breakfast had been his least favourite meal. Wherever he was they always seemed to have the shittiest cereal. The telly would usually be on too. Morning TV blaring out adverts for Frosties and Coco Pops while he was stuck with Tesco Value weetabix. It was always a battle to see how much sugar he could manage to spoon into it before he got shouted at or his hand slapped away. However much it was it wasn’t enough.

So now he made sure he ate like a king in the morning one day in seven to show the world that he’d won.

He was wiping up ketchup and egg yolk with a bit of bacon when the call came in, The phone display told him the number was blocked but he picked it up anyway.

“Hello.”

“It’s me, mate,” Joel recognised Danny’s voice straight away. He had a way of sticking in your brain, did Danny. A charisma or something that made you like him and want him to like you.

Joel greeted him, asked him how he was.

Danny started speaking before Joel had finished,“ No time for that now, mate, I’ve got a shedload on. This is important though.”

“Okay.”

“Meet me at The Exchange tonight, I’ll explain then.” was what Danny said next.

“Why?” said Joel.

“I’ll tell you later,” said Danny. “That’s the whole point, we need to speak face to face. Besides we haven’t had a beer together for ages.”

That wasn’t true, it had been about a week but maybe that was ages for Danny. Joel hadn’t known him long, a month or so, not long enough to really get the measure of him. A call from him usually meant some work, though, and that was reason enough to say yes.

“Okay, what time?” he said.

Eight o’clock was what Danny had said but at half past he still wasn’t there. Joel had nearly finished his first pint and was trying to decide whether to buy another or walk out the door. He would have called but Danny didn’t give his number out to anyone. Joel couldn’t decide if it was a legitimate security precaution or just posing. Danny was a pretty flash guy, all designer clothes and white teeth. Acted like he was in some TV show half the time. The Only Way is Essex meets Miami Vice maybe. It occurred to Joel that the whole lateness thing might just be a test, a way to see how desperate for work he was. Did that mean he should walk now or hang around? He looked at the Timex on his wrist. Two minutes after the last time he’d looked at it.

There were a couple of cute girls chatting to each other at the bar. Every so often one of them would let out a loud drunken giggle. It wasn’t late but they’d probably been there since five, knocking back cocktails and white wine on stomachs with only a lunchtime salad in them. They still had their office gear on, secretaries or something sat up high on bar stools with their long legs on display. Joel decided he’d stick around for one more drink, give Danny a chance to finish up whatever was keeping him.

He knocked back the beer in his glass and stood. One of the girls watched him as he walked up to the bar. She was swaying a little on her stool, smiling too. He ignored them, he’d let them do the work if they were interested. Sometimes he liked to do that with a girl, it made him feel like he was in control of things. If someone had asked him he wouldn’t have been able to explain why but deep down inside he could feel it. That need.

The barman asked him what he wanted and Joel told him a lager. Handed over the money and turned to walk back to the table with his beer.

“You look like a bad boy,” said the girl who’d been staring at him. The other one giggled.

“Maybe,” he said back, looking at her. She wasn’t bad. If Danny didn’t turn up soon he might take her home. Might take both of them.

“What bad things have you done then?”

He leaned towards her and was about to speak when a hand clapped down on his shoulder. Joel turned back and saw Danny, all smiles and charm, beaming at the secretaries..

“Sorry ladies,” he said, “I just need to borrow my friend here for a few minutes. After that he’s all yours, although I will need him back in one piece in a few days so I’ll have to ask you to be gentle with him.” That got a laugh from both of them. The one who hadn’t spoken to Joel found it so funny she nearly fell off her stool and her friend had to grab her.

“Let me buy you both a drink for spoiling your fun though,” he nodded at the barman who poured a couple of colourful drinks for them and handed Danny a bottle of Becks. The cocktails came in wide mouthed martini glasses that looked to Joel like they’d break in his hand as soon as he picked one up. Either that or he’d slop the drink everywhere, which given how little of it there was would be a shame.

Danny gestured vaguely in the direction of Joel’s still full pint glass. Joel guessed it was just out politeness and shook his head.

They walked to the table.

“Nice girls,” said Danny as they sat down. “I think they like you. Or at least the booze in them does”

Joel laughed, “I think you might be right.”

Danny looked back over his shoulder at the bar. Joel followed his eyes. The girls were facing away from them talking to two guys who’d just come in.

“Ah fuck it mate. Looks like you’ve missed the boat,” Danny said.

He turned back.

“Now. Business.”

Joel took a drink and waited.

Danny started talking.

Joel listened.He didn’t have too much faith in his ability to judge such things but it sounded like a pretty good plan. Looking back he wondered if he’d been listening closely enough. Maybe the beer in him and the thought of the girls stopped him really thinking about what Danny was saying. He didn’t want to care about them but he kept finding himself looking over at them to see if they’d given the other guys the knock back. After a while, Danny still talking away, the four of them left.

So maybe Joel hadn’t been paying quite enough attention. Or it could have been that Danny just used that charm of his to make it all sound like it was all going to be fine. Either way as it turned out the plan wasn’t good at all. It was, in fact, fucking terrible.

Chapter Three

Eve didn’t know why she went after the man. In fact as she walked she told herself that she wasn’t going after him at all. He was just walking towards town and so was she. That didn’t explain why she kept walking along the front when she would normally have turned away from it though. Or why she walked a bit slower than normal so she didn’t overtake him. He was struggling with a big bag, stopping every so often to reposition it on his shoulder before he moved off again, and it was slowing him down. It looked like a soldier’s kit bag, long and made of a thick green canvas. Maybe he was a squaddie back from overseas. He had a look about him, a toughness that made her think that might be the case. And that long scar on his cheek had to have come from somewhere, although it might as easily have been a bottle in a bar fight as a bullet.

None of that explained why she was following him though. In fact it made her feel like she was an idiot. She didn’t know a thing about him and here she was wondering after him (in the same direction as him, she corrected herself quickly) on empty streets as night started to fall.

She thought back to the moment their eyes had met in the cafe. Was he trouble or just troubled she wondered? He certainly looked as lost as she felt. Floating through life. It wasn’t that she didn’t have a purpose, she did. Jack was all the purpose she needed. Ten years old and so willful that keeping him out of trouble felt like a full time job.

Which was why tonight was supposed to have been so special. Her first date in months.

When Alex had called her the week before and asked her she’d felt elated one minute and sick the next. He was a lovely guy, the dad of one of Jack’s friends. Single like her, although his wife had died rather than just pissing off to London like Jack’s dad. Handsome, funny, kind. And he was normal. Not an idiot or a psycho like most of the guys she’d dated. Not involved in anything dodgy. A normal decent guy. They’d been chatting at the school gates for a few weeks and the boy’s had been round each other’s houses for tea. The more she spoke to him the more she liked him. To the point that she worried she was blushing whenever he said hello. So when he’d called and asked her if she’d like to go for a drink she’d been delighted. “Just the two of us,” he’d said, “without those damn hooligans or ours screaming the place down.” As soon as she’d put the phone down she’d started worrying. What would she wear, what would she say, would he like her? Jack and Alex’s son could be a pain in the arse but at least the gave them something to talk about when the conversation dried up. She’d tried to take her mind off the bits she couldn’t control by buying a new outfit to wear. She’d ended up with a pair of dark skinny jeans that would keep her legs warm but still show them off. She didn’t go to the gym three times a week to hide herself away, especially on a date. The high heeled ankle boots she’d chosen gave her legs even more shape. She’d bought a silk top that clung to her like water and which had a scooped enough neckline to give a hint of cleavage without being tarty. Over the top of that was a fitted blazer that hugged her curves almost as tightly. It was smart and when she took it off the top underneath would have even more impact. Finally she had a big colourful scarf to wrap around herself as well. Both to accessorise and to keep the winter chill out. Gok Wan, she decided, would be proud of her. It was certainly a big change from the mummy clothes Alex normally saw her in. She couldn’t really afford any of it but she’d worry about that when her credit card bill came. The new clothes had made her feel better about it, more confident. She’d been laying them out on the bed and checking them for creases when her phone rang that morning. She saw it was Alex straight away from the display. She’d had a moment of doubt when she’d dropped Jack off at school and Alex’s Mum had been there rather than him rather than him. He must be ringing now, she thought, to confirm it was all still on.

The first thing he said was, ”Eve I’m sorry.”

She didn’t cry until she’d hung up the phone but once she’d done that the tears came freely. His son wasn’t ready, he said. Hadn’t finished grieving for his mum. She didn’t know if it was bullshit or not but she supposed it didn’t matter. Either way she was on her own tonight. Again. She looked at the clothes on the bed. Over a hundred quids worth. Money she didn’t have. Should she take them back? Right then she wanted to tear them to shreds. Destroy them for reminding her of the happiness she’d briefly felt. Instead she left them on the bed and just walked out of the house. Maybe, she thought as she slammed the door behind her, maybe all she deserved were the psychos and the idiots. Maybe that was all she’d ever have. That or nothing.

She walked done to the esplanade and down a ramp onto the beach. The tide was out. The shingle and patches of sand that made up the beach exposed. She walked along it, eyes down, letting the blur of the stones as they passed through her eyes hypnotise her. She’d done this when her dad had died. Fifteen years ago now. She’d walked along the same beach as a kid. Just looking at the shingle, just hearing the waves. Trying to blot everything else out as she cried so hard it hurt. The pain today was nothing compared to that but it still made her ache inside. She’d let her guard down. Let someone sneak into her heart. When her dad had died she’d sworn to herself that she would always be strong. It was temptation that had killed him. The false promise of something for nothing. Why did being strong mean she couldn’t be happy though?

A few hours later and that ache had dulled a bit. Tonight didn’t need to be a complete waste of time she decided. Her mum had Jack until morning so she might as well make the most of that. Maybe go and eat somewhere and then get the bus to the cinema.

She’d almost forgotten about the guy from the cafe. She looked up and saw that he had stopped completely and put his bag down on the pavement. Eve didn’t know what to do. There were no side streets between them so she couldn’t just turn off. She felt embarrassed that she’d followed him. Stupid. Should she just walk past him? Or turn and walk the other way?

As she got closer to him she saw him pull out a pack of Silk Cut. He put one in his mouth and lit it, the flare of the lighter illuminating his face as he sucked the flame into the cigarette. She examined him again in the orange light, wondering what it was that had drawn her to him. His jaw was strong, his cheekbones high and defined. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on his face and she wondered if the same was true for the rest of him. He was handsome rather than good looking, she decided. Ruggedly attractive but not fragile or pampered looking like a model. His features were angular, interesting, but it was the scar that defined his look. It stood out from the stubble on his cheek and shone even after the lighter was out. The white line cutting through the dark hair might have made another man less attractive but on him it had the opposite effect. It should have made him look tough but instead it just made her wonder what pain he’d suffered in his life. It was a physical sign of the hurt inside him. And then there were his eyes. A cold shining blue with that sad lost look in them that reminded her of her own. He looked like the bag was the least of the weights he was carrying. In the cafe she hadn’t been sure that he wasn’t bad news but now, somehow, she knew that he wasn’t.

“Fuck it,” she thought. She’d be strong tomorrow. Tonight she was going to do some living.

December Giveaway

In celebration of the festive season, every day from the 1st to the 24th December one of my books will be free on Amazon. Each promotion will run for a 2 day period.

I’ll update this post every other day to confirm what the freebie of the day is.

For a full list of my books go here

That is all.

Update 4 (7th Dec)

The free book on the 7th and 8th is the follow up to Camera/Phone v1. It’s not a sequel in the traditional sense but rather a retelling. It has the same central characters and basic premise but takes the story in an entirely different direction. It’s called Camera/Phone v2, I hope you like it.

Alexi and Jackson just want to have a good time and if that sometimes means taking things from others they can live with it. When they steal a phone in a street robbery they find photos on it that they wish they’d never seen. Photos depicting the murder of a number of young women.

What started as a simple robbery becomes a terrifying fight for survival as the two teenagers realise that the owner of the phone may be far from human.

Amazon UK

Amazon US

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Update 3 (5th Dec)

On 5th/6th the freebie will be the first of a linked pair of stories, Camera/Phone v1

Alexi and Jackson just want to have a good time and if that sometimes means taking things from others they can live with it. When they steal a phone in a street robbery they find photos on it that they wish they’d never seen, photos of torture and murder. Worse still the owner wants them back.

Amazon UK

Amazon US

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Update 2 (3rd Dec)

On 3rd and 4th December my most popular story, the feline thriller A Cat Called Hope, will be free.

How much difference can one cat make?

A Cat Called Hope is the gripping and moving tale of how help can come from the most surprising of places. It is the story of a mother and child in the most desperate of situations and a lost cat with only his instincts to guide him.

Author Oliver Clarke weaves a tale that will touch your heart and raise your pulse.

Amazon UK

Amazon US

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Update 1 (1st Dec):

Free for the first time ‘Only One Way Out’ is the opening book in the December giveaway and will be free today and tomorrow.

Sam might be old but he hasn’t given up yet. They won’t let him live alone any more but he still has his pride. So when a fire breaks out in the old people’s home Sam now lives in the last thing he wants is help.

From Bastion Books and author Oliver Clarke, Only One Way Out is a story of one man’s determination to hold on to the things he holds dear. It will thrill you, move you and stay with you long after you’ve finished it.

Amazon UK

Amazon US

Flash Fiction! ‘Guillotine! Long Shot’

I just tried my hand at flash fiction for the first time and the result is a nasty little tale featuring the first lady of revenge. I call it ‘Guillotine! Long Shot’.

For the record the story is exactly 357 words long. Click the Magnum to read it.

 

I've moved

Following a few issues with the blogger app eating my posts I've decided to jump ship to Word Press.

You can now find me here

THANKS

The missed opportunity of Amazon KDP

A while ago I made the tough choice to stop publishing on Smashwords and move all my content to Amazon. I did this for two reasons:

1) It allowed me to enter Amazon’s KDP select program which has benefits such as being able to schedule promotional giveaways and lend books to Amazon Prime users.

2) Nothing was selling on Smashwords anyway. When I made books free I’d get a tonne of downloads but nobody ever bought anything.

Overall the Amazon KDP setup feels slicker than the Smashwords one and the act of publishing something is certainly a lot easier without having to comply with the dreaded ‘Style Guide’. I miss one thing about Smashwords though, the MI.

In my “real” job I do quite a lot with this sort of data, reviewing it and analysing it. Finding ways to use it to improve the performance of the team I work on. None of the information I get from Amazon could really be used to improve my performance as a writer though because all I get is sales figures. That’s it, nothing more than the number of copies of my books that have been bought or borrowed from the Kindle Lending library. This, clearly, is pretty much the bare minimum Amazon can get away with without pissing people off. It serves their own purposes too as they have to know how many copies have sold in order to pay royalties.

The most obvious statistic that’s missing is the number of previews downloaded. I suspect this is the one that leaps out at me as it was the additional one that Smashwords had. It’s a useful number because it tells you how gripping the preview you provide to readers is and I’m sure Amazon could provide it very easily if they saw fit.

That’s just the tip of the iceberg though because Amazon are in a position that, I suspect, makes them pretty much unique in the history of publishing. They own not only the virtual printing presses but the books themselves when they’re in the hands or on the shelves if the people who’ve bought them. And those books are sending information about themselves back to the Amazon mothership all the time. Amazon, I’m sure, could tell me how many people have finished reading my books after buying them. They could tell me how quickly the books were read, where people who didn’t finish them gave up, even what time of day people were reading. On the store side of things they could let me know how many people look at one of my books and then don’t buy it. Whether people browsing on a colour screen are more likely to click into a particular title than those using an e-Ink display. Amazon don’t do any of that though. They just tell me how many copies I’ve sold. Which feels like an opportunity missed to me, both for me and for them.

I don’t think any of the other epublishers out there at the moment could do what Amazon are in a position to. Apple can’t because whilst they control the devices books they sell through the iBooks store are read on they don’t have any way for indie authors to submit directly to them. Smashwords can’t because once someone buys a book they lose sight of it completely.

Amazon have an opportunity to provide a service that gives them an edge over the competition in two ways:

1) It would create a unique selling point for indie writers looking to publish their work. Amazon could even bundle it in with the existing KDP Select program to encourage exclusivity. The amount of money they’re currently throwing at the KDP Select Global Fund suggests that indie authors are a profitable revenue stream for them.

2) The data Amazon could provide would allow authors to write more saleable books. Both sides win. The writers sell more and Amazon makes more.

So come on Mr Bezos, how about it?

How to design an ebook cover – the evolution of Multicide

I don’t claim to be an expert on this by any means but having recently designed a cover for my latest story that I’m very happy with I thought others might find my experiences useful.

The final cover owes a lot to a number of people but most of all probably Felix Scholz who provided the original image and Anne Billson who provided a number of useful suggestions.

Incidentally, and to show you what a complete amateur I am, the only software I use is good old PowerPoint.

The starting point for the cover was a photo Felix took of pasata spilled on a wall. As soon as I saw it I knew it would end up on a book cover at some point.

The first step was to crop it to book cover dimensions and add the title and my name. This was my first attempt at turning it into an actual cover.



That just looked far too “ebooky” so I tried playing around with the colours and design to make it stand out a bit more.




That was punchier but just too damn dreary so I played some more and ended up with these variations on the first two covers. These also added the definition of multicide to sell the book a little better.




Those two are both kind of okay. They look like the cover of a self-published ebook designed by someone with no real artistic talent. Early on in my career I would have been happy with them, What I’ve realised recently though is just how important book covers are. So I went back to the drawing board and started again.
First up was this effort.



Definitely more distinctive and professional feeling but it got away from the feel I was trying to get for the story. Multicide is a full on, slightly silly, very gory pulp horror story. So I decided I needed to add Felix’s photo back in. What I discovered them (amateur alarm going off again) is that there are photo filters on PowerPoint…


I shared the cover with a few people and the feeling was that it was good but not perfect. I had my basic concept and design though,, what I needed to do next was refine it. What followed was a series of slight tweaks to layout and font style and size. I added shadows to some of the words to make them stand out more and played around with the colours. Basically I just kept fiddling with each part until the whole worked. Here is the evolution.






I was happy with it now….almost. There was still something missing, something that marked it out as an ebook and lacked the fun vibe that the vintage paperback covers I love have. I did a bit of Googling and looked at book jackets I liked and thought about things.
Then on my ride home from work I realised what was missing. The thing that “real” books had that mine didn’t. A publisher’s logo.
So I created one. The name for the brand came quickly, Bastian Books (my son’s name is Sebastian), the idea for the logo followed quickly on. 2 Bs back to back shaped to look like a skull, fitting for the kind of nasty horror and crime I churn out. I set to work (again in PowerPoint) and after a bit of a trawl through the different fonts available came up with this.



The final step was to add it the cover. This required a slight layout change and gave me the chance to add in a nicely pulpy strapline at the top. Job done!