R. Leonia Shea's Blog, page 11

SALE!

http://bookgoodies.com/a/B00DAIOMPI

Filed under: art mystery, contemporary fantasy, fantasy writer, Fortunes Bought and Sold, indie author, marketing, self-publishing, Tarot Tagged: amazon, Amazon.com, Author, Book Publicity, contemporary fantasy, contemporary fiction, Fantasy Writer, indie author, indie book marketing, indie books, Indie Writer, tarot cards

The lifeblood of indie book sales: reader reviews

This post is for all of the readers out there who suffer “review freeze”. For indie authors like me, an honest review from a reader is key to gaining new readers and making more book sales. For readers, I think the thought of writing a review can be terrifying. Even I have sat staring at my computer screen trying desperately to come up with words which would help other readers decide weather to buy a book or not.

Since it’s a bit daunting to compose a review, I’m going to offer a short template for those readers who want to leave reviews but don’t quite know what to write. Remember – your review doesn’t have to be long. It doesn’t have to be poetic. It needs to be engaging and informative – period. You can do that in as little as five sentences.

1st sentence: Introduction

Why did you buy this book? Was it the cover, title, description, or subject matter? Have you read other books by this author? Do you have a lot of experience with this type of book (subject matter, genre)?

2nd sentence: The book experience

What was the general subject of the book? What was the tone (scary, funny, action-packed, heart-breaking, uplifting)? Were there plot twists, memorable characters, great descriptions?

3rd sentence: Stand-out moments

What was your favorite scene in the book? Did it make you laugh, cry, get angry? Did you find yourself absorbed enough that you kept reading late into the night? Did you fall asleep every time you sat down to read? Did you delete it from your kindle after the fourth page? Was there a question the author didn’t answer and it’s still driving you nuts? Is it driving you nuts in a good way or in a bad way?

4th sentence: Your opinion

Did you love this book? Hate it? Can’t wait to read other books by this author?

5th sentence: Your recommendation

Would you recommend this book to someone who loves the subject/genre? Do you think someone might fall in love with the subject/genre BECAUSE they read this book? Is there another book you would recommend instead? If you’ve read other books by the same author, is this book as good as their other work?

The final thing you want to do is title your review. This is a short phrase to gain your reader’s attention. When I’m surfing reviews, I look for things like: A satisfying read, indeed! Great book! So-and-so does it again! Slightly disappointing. Unanswered questions. Left-turn at Albuquerque.

Filed under: book reviews., leaving reviews, reader reviews, review template, reviews Tagged: ebook reviews, leaving reviews, reader reviews, Review, review template, reviewing books

Sneak Preview – Chapter 2 of Legendary Magic

Chapter 2

I stayed up all night researching the history of Abbotshire. I looked into papers Dr. Ash had published, read through countless articles on the history of Great Britain and no matter how many notes I took, I couldn’t find a connection between Ash-hole and Ray besides magic – and that just wasn’t logical given what I knew about Dr. Ash.

With a dramatic sigh of frustration, I pushed myself to my feet and began pacing the floor. Basir and Ka’Tehm watched me with bored expressions. The more I thought about those photos, the more obsessed I became. I ran my hands through my hair and gritted my teeth. There was just no graceful way to get more information on the dig. If I called any of my former colleagues out of the blue and told them that I had seen an article and suspected something was afoot, they would think I was a bit wacky.

Hell, even I thought I was losing it! I sat on the couch and held my head in my hands. “I need to let this go.” I groused, feeling utterly exhausted. I stood up, feeling resolved in my decision and walked back to the kitchen. “Who wants breakfast?” I called to my companions.

I rounded the kitchen island and pulled the refrigerator door open. I grabbed bacon and eggs off the shelves and set about making breakfast while trying to get my mind off the mystery on the other side of the ocean. I scrambled and fried like a mad-woman, whipping up a pile of frittatas while I contemplated the facts and filled in with a little conjecture.

We had just finished eating in silence when the copper gong on the front porch sounded a loud tone. I glanced at my companions and a shiver ran down my spine. Nobody visited our nearly-converted barn in the woods, and the wards I had set around the property were generally strong enough to discourage even the most determined religious missionary from venturing down the long driveway.

I looked out the window. Sure enough, a car was rolling slowly toward our house. I didn’t recognize the small car, and I peered out the window as Basir landed on my shoulder.

“We have company.” I said, stating the obvious.

“Whoooo.” Basir replied.

“Well I don’t know yet.” I quipped and ducked as he slapped at the back of my head with his large wing. Owls have no sense of humor about their limited vocabulary.

“You better go take a look. I don’t like unexpected company.” I said, reaching up a hand to stroke his soft feathers. He nipped my ear affectionately and soared up to the peak of the roof and through the small door.

I watched from the safety of my house as Basir passed in front of the car and looked in at the driver. He veered out of the way of the moving vehicle and landed in a tree where I could see him. I held my breath and let it out in a whoosh when he lifted his wings in a joyful gesture. He flapped wildly in the air and returned to the house.

I felt myself relax and I pulled open the kitchen door and peered out as the car eased to a stop. Basir’s reaction meant I’d be pleased with the visitor, but I still didn’t know who it was. The person inside the car took forever to shut the engine off and open the door, but when the old man swung his feet to the ground and stood leaning against the driver’s side door I gave a shout of delighted surprise and ran out to greet him.

“Pops! What are you doing here?” I laughed, hurrying toward the car with my black flip-flops slapping a quick rhythm against my heels.

“Chicken!” He called, fumbling with the key fob to pop open the trunk. “Can’t a man visit his favorite grandchild without a reason?” He asked, smiling brightly.

“I’m your only grandchild and you don’t need a reason to visit. I’m so happy you’re here!” I said, meaning it with every fiber of my being.

I helped him pull his small suitcase out of the trunk and watched while Basir landed on the porch railing, waiting for his turn to greet my grandfather. After much excited hooting and affectionate beak snaps, the three of us chattered happily and walked into the house.

“I see you’ve done a few more things since I was here last time.” My grandfather said, looking around at the kitchen cabinets that were hung, the hardwood floors that had been stained and varnished, and the solid surface counter that I had considered a necessary extravagance when I’d bought it – even though it completely shredded my budget.

“It’s coming along.” I agreed, having long since come to the conclusion that refinishing that old barn was going to be my life’s work. “Where’s Nan?” I asked, thinking it odd that my grandmother didn’t come along.

“Oh, she’s out visiting that worm of a brother she has in New Mexico. I never cared much for him.” My grandfather announced.

“And she let you jet off without her?” I said, suspiciously.

“It’s not like I’m sneaking off with some tart, Arienne. She’s visiting her brother and I’m visiting our granddaughter. After sixty years of marriage, we don’t need to be joined at the hip and I don’t need to see that worm she’s related to.”

Pops had a point. Uncle Bert was a worm, and I wouldn’t drive across the street to see him, never mind fly halfway across the country if I had a choice. Nan had never given me that choice, though. I’d spent more than a few vacations in the burning sun of New Mexico. When I wasn’t dodging scorpions and Uncle Bert’s mean old cat, Pops and I had trudged through the desert looking for Native American sites and traces of old magic.

Pops looked around the house while he continued his story.

“Seems as if the worm is having a hard time with his son…your Nan went to give him some advice.” Pops waved a dismissive hand in the air and grinned at me with sparkling blue eyes. “I don’t suppose you have a cold beer in that fancy refrigerator?”

“What sort of girl do you think my mother raised? Do you want imported or domestic?” I headed to the fridge and pulled out two bottles before grabbing two glasses and an opener. “Have a seat in the new and improved living room.” I said, gesturing past the kitchen.

The house had improved in comfort and completeness since his last visit. I’d managed to replace my thrift store couch with a comfy sectional in a rich chocolate micro-suede. One wall was painted a pumpkin color and the threadbare rug had been upgraded to a modern shag in shades of cream and copper. The small television I’d rescued from the dump still stood in the corner; it was next on the list of things to be replaced when I had enough money to justify the expense.

Pops sat on the sofa and eyed the twig patterned throw pillows. “Pretty plush, isn’t it?” He asked, eyeing the faux leopard fur throw on the back of the couch where Basir perched. He stroked a large hand across the seat of the couch and winked at Basir.

“Whooo.” Basir agreed, shaking his wings and strutting around like he was royalty.

“I was going for cozy.” I said, sitting next to him and placing the two glasses upon the coffee table.

“It’s nice. You have good taste.” Pops leaned toward Basir. “She gets that from me, you know.” He swiped a bit of silver hair out of his eyes and grinned at me.

“Whoo!” Basir blinked once and pointed to himself with a white wing tip.

“You did not pick it out.” I disagreed. “You picked out that…” I said, pointing at the large oil painting of autumn trees, “…and that…” I said, gesturing toward the rug, “…but the rest of it was mine.”

Basir swiveled his head around and raised an ear tuft, looking pointedly at the large carved wood branch sculpture next to the windows.

“Oh yeah, you picked that out. Not like you had an ulterior motive or anything.” I said.

Basir swooped to the sculpture and landed on it gracefully, folding his wings and looking regal on his perch. The wood was carved walnut, lovingly shaped into a gnarly form and polished with beeswax by a local artist. Tiny little lights were strung beneath the branches and at night, it cast sparkly light all around the room when we lit it up. It was a beautiful sculpture, and I wondered what its creator would think to see a real owl perched on his art. I had to admit, as stunning as the piece was it looked even better adorned with rich sable and white feathers fluffed out with attitude and sass.

“So tell me about your business, Arienne. How do you like gardening?”

I shrugged. “It’s not archaeology, but it’s kind of fun.” I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks and I sipped my beer to hide my discomfort. Why did I choose those words?

“Oh, chicken.” Pops said with a note of sympathy. “I’m just as proud of you if you’re a gardener as I would be if you were winning some fancy award in archaeology.” He shook my knee with his gnarled old hand and smiled warmly at me.

“An award isn’t very likely, is it?” I snorted. Without warning, I felt hot tears sting my eyes and I blinked them away, a flutter of panic in my gut. “Be right back.” I said in a shaky voice as I escaped into the bathroom and shut the door behind me.

Where did that come from? I thought frantically. For heaven’s sake, Arienne – GET A GRIP! I stared in the mirror at my sage green eyes and gave myself a stern but silent talkin’ to. You’re fine. You’re doing well. You’re not homeless. You have a nice barn, a good business, Basir and Ka’Tehm. You’re doing fine! What in heaven’s name is WRONG with you?

I felt a spattering of cool water on my lower legs and I looked down to see luminous silver eyes staring up at me with concern.

“Oh, Ka’Tehm. Everytime I think I’m over it…” I whispered, sitting down on the thick bath mat and looking at the spectral blue beaver. He had waddled out of the kiddie pool to check on me. “I don’t know why that happens out of the blue. I’m happy most of the time!” He looked at me and rolled over on the mat to dry his fur. I pulled the thick towel I kept draped over a stool for his use into my lap and closed my eyes, thunking my head back against the vanity in frustration. “He didn’t even say anything and there I go acting like a fool and getting all emotional for no reason. Jeez! It’s ancient history.  No pun intended.”

Ka’Tehm looked at me and blinked once; at least he agreed with me. He nudged my hand with his cool nose and I passed the towel over his fur lightly. Since Ka’Tehm consisted mainly of water, I didn’t want to dry him off too much for fear that he’d just disappear. I don’t know what magic enabled him to stay on the same astral plane as me, but I was glad for his sympathetic ear.

“I need to get a grip.” I said, stroking my hand over his shimmering fur. “I’m not an archaeologist anymore. End of story. I’m a landscaper, and I’m pretty good at it. Sure I use magic to make the plants grow, but that’s my little secret. I’m supposed to use magic – I’m a witch. The only profession where magic got me in trouble was archaeology. I mean seriously, if those monks meant for that demon to stay banished, they shouldn’t have carved those words on the stone, right?”

Ka’Tehm blinked again and I squared my shoulder. “Pops is here, so you should go out and say hello. I’ll come out in a minute.” I said, bending down and kissing his water vapor head. I stood and opened the door, watching the blue furred critter saunter toward the living room. I turned and faced my reflection in the mirror. I squared my shoulders and looked straight into my own eyes.

“Now, Arienne Cerasola. You get a grip on your sorry self. You can’t change it and it wasn’t fatal. You were fired. It happens. Big freakin’ deal. Move on!” I looked back at myself and nodded as if to emphasize my point.

It had been more than two years since I collapsed that cathedral in Ireland. Since then, I’d located a magical healing tree and saved the magical community from a variety of ailments. I’d rescued Boston from a loose Cemi that left chaos and destruction in its wake. I’d done real magic; I’d improved my ability to control it, and I’d managed to gain a few grains of respect by saving one of the top members of the United Coven and Alliance…and the fact that he was really more loyal to the opposition than the Alliance made me feel even better about it.

I was a witch, damn it, and I needed to stop beating myself up over my past mishap. Just because Pops was the legendary archaeologist, Dr. Christy O’Flynn, didn’t mean that I had shamed him because of my antics. Just because no academic institution would hire me didn’t mean I wasn’t a good archaeologist. I was. I had made money finding magical artifacts that nobody else could have found. I just wasn’t your typical archaeologist and that was my new reality. Being ordinary was way over-rated, anyway.

Feeling better, if a bit ashamed of my overly emotional reaction – I squared my shoulders again and headed back to the couch. Pops was talking to Basir and Ka’Tehm in a hushed voice and I felt a prickle of unease.

“I guess I’m tired, Pops. You know how I get when I don’t have enough sleep and I was up almost all of last night.” I grinned and sat back down, sipping my beer and trying to remember my optimism. I decided not to mention why I didn’t get enough sleep. That was my little obsession and I didn’t want to rile Pops up over my suspicions.

“Sure, Chicken. I understand. If you think about it we’re sort of in the same boat. Neither one of us is using our fancy degrees these days.” Pops sipped his beer and his blue eyes drifted out over the driveway. I watched him for a second, thinking that he looked as if he were waiting for someone, but that didn’t make any sense. I relaxed when he spoke again.

“So tell me about your business.” He prompted, facing me and putting his elbows on his knees.

“Well….” I began, looking for something to say. “I did a pretty cool pest repelling charm for rose bushes.” I explained the charm’s origin and how it evolved from super electric bug zapper to the present perfect form.

Pops stared at me with his blue eyes wide with what looked like astonishment as I finished my description.

“What?” I asked, narrowing my eyes as he leaned toward me with his brows knitted in disbelief.

“You tweaked the charm to only work on bugs of a certain weight?”

“Yeeess….” I drew the word out because it seemed like the obvious choice. “I didn’t want a pile of dead birds and squirrels around my gardens. That would be bad advertising.”

“Your charm works?”

“Yup. There’s probably a lady bug crawling over the plant right now and she doesn’t feel a thing.” I nodded, proud of that little victory.

“That’s quite an accomplishment.” Pops said, raising his glass in a salute to me.

“And I’m working on some new landscaping plans that I’m going to put in one of the local nurseries. It should be good advertising for those people who don’t know what plants they should put together.”

The gong sounded again and Pops looked sheepish when I peered out the window to see another unfamiliar car coming down the driveway.

“That’s odd. I wasn’t expecting anybody…” I said, watching Basir fly out though the owl door to scope out the new visitor.

“Um…I think I might know who that is…” Pops’ voice trailed off as I turned and gave him a questioning look. He stood and walked quickly past me, avoiding my gaze. I watched him go and had a fleeting thought that perhaps Pops wasn’t just visiting because Nan was in New Mexico with Uncle Bert.

Basir hooted from outside and I turned my attention back to the small black vehicle. I suppressed a groan when bright orange sneakers appeared below the open car door. One end of the white shoestring was frayed into a large fuzzy ball that was apparent even from the house.

“Dr. Froehlich?” I asked, hurrying toward my grandfather with a confused look pasted on my face.

“Ezra and I go way back, Arienne. Surely you know that…” Pops gave another vague wave of his hand before hurrying by me and down the steps to greet the half-mad archaeologist from my last magical adventure. I hadn’t seen my nearly eighty year old grandfather move that fast in years, and I suspected it was more to avoid my growing realization that I had been  set up, than to help Ezra out of the car.

I didn’t exactly like the way the little surprise visit was going, but I had a nagging feeling that the two old men were up to something that I’d be neck deep in before sundown.

Filed under: Archaeology, book preview, contemporary fantasy, fantasy writer, indie author, new release, preview, Relic Hunter Characters, sneak peak Tagged: archaeology, book launch, Book Publicity, book release, book releases, contemporary fantasy, Legendary Magic, New Release

Free Promotion increases sales?

I just finished a two day free promo of Elementary Magic and noticed an odd trend.  During a free promo, sales of my other titles increase as well.  This is not the first time this has happened, so I don’t think it’s a fluke.  Maybe the increased visibility brings new readers? 

The real jump usually happens about a week or so after a free promo.  I’ll report back on that later. 

Filed under: contemporary fantasy, fantasy writer, marketing, self-publishing Tagged: Amazon.com, book marketing, Book Sales, free promos, indie book marketing, marketing, sales

How to build the initial marketing plan for your book

Last week, I promised to post my marketing strategies in the hopes that other indie authors would find them useful.  I’m still analyzing which were most helpful, but this will give you an outline about how to set things up so you’re not hunting around when you’re posting. 

I use a word document to list all of my links – both long versions and shortened links.  I use bitly to shorten my links, but there are several services out there which you can use (owly and tinyurl come to mind)

Here’s what you’re going to need links for: 

You book on Amazon.com, Smashwords, Barnes & Noble and any other site where your book is listed for sale.  For Amazon, you might want to get a universal link so people can find it in the US, UK, AU, DE, etc. stores easily.  BookGoodies has a universal link generator that’s very helpful.  You can find that here: http://bookgoodies.com/geotargeted-am...

 

In addition to your books, you’ll need a link or info for your entire on-line presence. These are the most common ones:

Your email address

Your Facebook link

The Facebook link for your book page (if you don’t have one, you might want to build one!)

Your Amazon.com author link(if you don’t have one, go here: http://www.amazon.com/authorcentral)

Your Twitter link

Your Twitter handle (different sites will ask you for different things)

Your Pinterest link (if you have one)

Your Pinterest name

Your Shelfari link

Your GoodReads link

Your blog link

I compile all of this info before I even start posting, so when I’m posting about my book I can just copy and paste the links rather than going hunting for them. The first time I did a marketing blast, it took me forever because every site wanted different information. When I discovered that little gem, I opened a word document and went to town. Now, I have all of those links handy so I can just copy and paste.

The other thing you’re going to need is at least three different book descriptions. These should be different from your back cover description as well. This is the part that generally takes the most time for me. I try to craft each one with a different first sentence, different “action” words, and a different “feel”. I’ve heard the the search-bots love unique content so I don’t post the same description on every site. Here’s an example for Legendary Magic.

Teaser 1:

Dr. Arienne Cerasola might have a suspicious mind, but that doesn’t mean something nasty isn’t being planned by two of her former acquaintances. They have banded together on an archaeological expedition in the United Kingdom, and that could spell trouble for the magical community. The magical apocalypse kind of trouble.

With a blend of humor, suspense, and fascinating research, author R. Leonia Shea brings magic to the world of archaeology in the third installment of the Relic Hunter series.

Teaser 2:

As a witch and disgraced archaeologist, Dr. Arienne Cerasola shouldn’t be surprised when Kingston Pon asks her help to find a lost relic. After all, Kingston is one of the senior members of the United Coven and Alliance and Arienne is one of the few people who knows about his secret resistance activities with the Crux Crucio Orbis. When she learns her own Grandfather is involved in the C.C.O., Arienne’s more than a little angry that her family has been keeping secrets. Secrets about their involvement in the magical world. Secrets about Arienne’s legacy. Keeping secrets means creating lies and Arienne is determined to unravel the deception even if it means collapsing the foundation of her new life.

Author R. Leonia Shea brings the reader on an entertaining (and educational) quest for a legendary sword. Her unique blend of humor, suspense, and slightly neurotic characters make Legendary Magic a must read.

Teaser 3:

Caught between the clandestine world of the C.C.O., the dangers of the Alliance, and the treachery of a new magical organization Dr. Arienne Cerasola must trace the grain of truth in the legends passed down from the ancient Celts, through the Roman Empire, and right into King Arthur’s court to find a legendary sword. The legends were created to protect the truth and keep the relic from passing into the wrong hands, but other organizations are trying to unravel the mystery. Arienne must solve the puzzle first, or the whole magical community could suffer – starting with her own family.

Author R. Leonia Shea began writing Legendary Magic after a research-binge into magical swords – the final result is an entertaining romp through the world of archaeology with a magical twist. Read this book – you’ll laugh a little, learn a little, and be completely entertained.

If you’ve been following this blog, you’ll realize that all three teasers are slightly re-worked sections from the original book description. Once you have all of these preliminary tasks done, you’re ready to start blitzing.

Now, I have to go post about my own book for a little while. If you’ve read this far, here’s a hint: Elementary Magic (the first book in my fantasy series) is going on a freebie promotion tomorrow (9/08/14) and tuesday (9/09/14). Here’s the link if you want to grab it when it’s free:

http://bookgoodies.com/a/B00736TWKI

Filed under: indie author, marketing, self-publishing, Uncategorized, writing, Writing Tips Tagged: book marketing, indie book marketing, indie books, indie publishing, Indie Writer, marketing, marketing indie books, marketing ploy, marketing tips

Sneak Preview for Legendary Magic

Chapter 1

The kitchen table was cluttered with plant catalogs and the improved landscaping plans for a job I was hoping to get. The latest drawings were more professional looking than the previous versions and I decided that I wasn’t half-bad as an artist. My training as an archaeologist had given me some basic skills and the more plans I drew the better the results looked. I’d just learn as I went. That approach to life had worked pretty well, so far.

It was early and I had a few hours before Basir woke up so I went back to my colored pencils and my drawings. I was new to art and gardening, but that didn’t stop me from running a landscaping business. A girl has to earn a living.
A ladybug flew by me and I watched it land on the potted rose bush. Carefully, I stood up while keeping my eyes on the bright red insect as it crawled along the glossy leaves.

“Yes!” I whispered as I gave into the urge to fist-pump the air. The charm on the rosebush had worked! The tiny bug didn’t set off the zapper charm.

It had taken me weeks to tune the electric charge to only work on large bugs, like the dreaded Japanese beetle that was the bane of my existence as a landscaper. Using witchcraft to make my landscaping business more successful that the competition probably wasn’t ethical, but as long as my magic was subtle it would go undetected. Since my whole financial life depended on my new business, I was willing to use any advantage I had – including magic.

My latest anti-pest charm was only triggered by heavy bugs. Large insects that landed on the plant would be instantly stunned before they could inflict any damage, but smaller bugs would go unharmed. If a human touched the plant, the charge would be imperceptible. It was a delicate balance and I smiled with pride as the bright red bug continued exploring the buds of the rosebush.

I glanced at the small box of peat moss disks that I was using as the carrier for the charm. I had taken organic gardening to a whole new level by tapping my earth witch powers and I was pretty darned pleased with myself. I had developed a whole line of charms that could be activated with a subtle burst of earth energy. Nobody would notice me doing it. Working spells with verbal incantations or wild gestures in public would get me a one way ticket to the crazy hotel but a trunk load of charmed peat disks and a fist full of business cards would keep the mortgage paid.

I was turning into the best bug-proof landscaper in town. Instead of calling myself a “dark green witch” I used “organic gardener” and watched my little business grow. If things stayed on track, I’ might even need to hire someone to help me next year.

I flipped a page in the seed catalog and stared at the lovely little plants, trying to figure out a way of working some nice bright red bee balm into my current plan. My stomach growled and I looked at the clock on the wall. It was almost noon, so I opted for a light lunch and a peek at the news on my laptop. Sunday was made for loafing, and I’d done enough work for a while.

With a salad and a glass of iced tea, I sat at my computer and began surfing for the latest news on archaeological expeditions around the globe. I still missed my former career as a field archaeologist, but I realized that gardening had some similarities that I really enjoyed. I was still able to be outdoors, still digging in the dirt and feeling the energy of the earth flow through my magically tuned senses. All in all, I hadn’t made a bad second career choice – even if the term choice was a bit of a stretch.

Owning my own business meant I couldn’t get fired and I wouldn’t have to watch my reputation being torn to shreds by ignorant fools. Who ever heard of a blacklisted gardener? I flipped on my laptop and went to the science section of an international news organization. As I forked a bite of salad into my mouth I scanned the headlines.

Ancient Celtic Dig Begins at Sanderdowns Abbey in Abbotshire. Residents of the quaint English town of Abbotshire are hopeful that the latest archaeological excavation of the stately monastery ruins will shed some light on the area’s past. Dr. Stanley Ash, leader of the expedition…

The coughing fit that ripped through me after the cherry tomato became lodged in my throat had me doubled over at the kitchen table, gasping for air. A gut wrenching cough caused me to spit the tomato clear across the room and I sucked in a large breath of fresh air. When the coughing subsided, I reached for the glass of iced tea and gulped a large amount of it down, feeling the cold liquid burn as it ran through my still-spasming esophagus. Iced tea bubbled out of my nose and I tasted the faint hint of lemon all the way in my sinus cavity. My eyes watered as I hacked and gasped a few more times.

When my vision cleared I found Basir perched on top of the paper towels I kept next to the sink with his yellow eyes full of concern. I waved my hand to indicate my confidence that I would not need the Heimlich maneuver or 911 and I sniffled and mopped my face in the bottom of my black tee-shirt.

Basir flapped his wings and clicked his beak in what I thought might be agitation.

“Fine!” I gasped trying to stop the coughing reflex. I had intended it to be reassurance for him but it only made him fly closer and peer into my face from the back of the empty chair.

When I could breathe, see, and was reasonably sure I wasn’t going to hack up a lung, I glanced at the owl. His beak was open wide and his black tongue was wagging back and forth. He tottered on the back of the chair and my hand shot out to catch him. The last thing I needed was my best friend and partner – a three and a half pound owl – needing a vet because he fell off the chair laughing at me.

“Nice. Me nearly choking to death amuses you.”

He blinked his eyes slowly and made the head movements he normally engaged in right before he hacked up an owl pellet.

“Oh, gross!” I moaned, making a face at him. He swiveled his brown head around and looked pointedly at the cherry tomato lying on the varnished wood floor.

“Give me a second to enjoy breathing and I’ll pick it up! Sheesh!” I groused before tossing the tomato into the trash.

“Ash-hole has nearly killed me a second time and all you’re worried about is the stupid tomato.”

“Who!” He hooted and flapped his wings.

“That son-of-a-motherless-whore Ash-hole!” I grumbled, leaning back so I could see my computer screen. “Look at this, Bah. He’s on some big dig funded by the Historical Society.”

Basir fluttered onto my shoulder and peered at the screen as I scrolled down, reading the article aloud to him.

…hopes to find some confirmation that Abbotshire had a central role in the development and prosperity of Southern England.
“The residents here have a rich history that just may prove that Abbotshire was a very important town from Roman times right through the dark ages. I’m confident I will discover some priceless evidence of this lovely town’s incredible history.” Dr. Ash stated at the press conference to mark the beginning of the excavation.

“I’m planning to use some of the locals to assist me on this exciting journey into the town’s past. The residents will be trained by my fine students so they can have the exciting task of screening soil and cataloging the finds. This is a great opportunity to get the young people of this area excited about archaeology.”

“And find a new crop of minions to hang on his every word…” I muttered before continuing with the article.

The dig is expected to last only six to eight weeks, unless something extraordinary is uncovered. When asked what he was hoping to find, Dr. Ash, a well respected academic in the United States as well as Europe, offered an enthusiastic response. “The excitement of archaeology lies in finding the unexpected. I have an uncanny ability to find exciting things in the most ordinary places. I’m sure Abbotshire and Sanderdowns Abbey will not disappoint.”

The article was accompanied with photos of Dr. Ash with the usual cadre of eager graduate students who flocked around the arrogant imbecile. The article mentioned his long and distinguished career as a preeminent archaeologist.
“Huh. A preeminent archaeologist, who doesn’t read the ancient languages, can’t do anything but give orders and wants to discover simpering graduate students who will hang on his every word. I guess they have a different definition of preeminent.” I said with more than a smidgen of bitterness.

Basir clicked his beak in irritated agreement and nuzzled the side of my head.

I reached a hand up and stroked his back. “I’m fine, Bah. It doesn’t matter anymore.” I lied. “We wouldn’t have this nice house and life if that idiot would have listened to me.”

Nope. If Stanley Ash-hole had listened to Dr. Arienne Cerasola, archaeologist, witch and druid, he would have watched as I released a nasty demon right into a bunch of graduate students. The ancient demon would have possessed one of the students just like it had possessed generations of monks and then driven him or her insane before moving on to the next victim.

If I had been given the leeway to explore the ancient writing on the pillars of the monastery, I would have added a little carnage to the disaster area. Generations of monks lived with the demonic entity at St. Cieran’s Monastery. Eventually, those monks managed to contain the demon and things would have been fine if I didn’t decide that the ancient writing in the ruins should be read. Aloud. By a witch. My bungling released the demon and then I had to fix my nearly fatal error – fast.

I managed to contain the entity – once I realized my mistake, but I had to collapse the sixteenth century monastery to do it. That disaster had lead to Stanley Ash firing me and smearing my name all over the halls of academia – there wasn’t a respectable archaeology department in the civilized world who would even let me handle a dustpan and whisk-broom. My arrogance led to a disaster and a whole new career, in gardening. It’s hard to get hired on an archaeological dig when you’re personally responsible for destroying a national treasure.

Really, Stanley Ash was jerk, but it was my own incompetence and impatience that ruined my career. No matter how many times I blamed him, I couldn’t escape the facts. Yet reading about his important dig in the United Kingdom made me burn with resentment and more than a smidgen of jealousy.

I returned to reading the article aloud to my faithful companion, but deep inside a thought began to nag at the back of my brain.

“Do you get the impression he’s looking for something specific, Basir?” I turned my eyes toward him and he blinked slowly at me. His feathered facial disks of deep sable brown made his large yellow eyes more expressive. I continued talking, encouraged by Basir’s response. “So then it’s not just my imagination that he has an agenda of some sort.” Basir blinked twice and lowered his eyelids to tiny slits.

Call me suspicious, but Stanley Ash never did anything without expecting a good deal of glory to follow. The Abbotshire dig wasn’t any different.

I scrolled down the page and found a video clip with Ash-hole’s smug face staring out at me. I clicked on the play icon and listened to the announcer interview the man who had helped end my career.

I snorted and made random sarcastic comments during Dr. Ash’s portion of the clip and paid closer attention when the announcer trudged around the site, pointing out the areas where the dig would begin. The camera panned around to show the early stages of the excavation, complete with grad students and field archaeologists swarming the site and setting up the standard grids.

“Who!” Basir vocalized from my shoulder as he pointed a wing tip at the screen. We had seen it at the same time and I hit the pause button and zoomed in on the image to take a closer look.

“What in Heaven’s name is he doing there?” I asked, feeling a knot form in my stomach.

The image of Raymond Swift Fox, Shaman, Liar and Thief was frozen on my screen.

“It can’t be.” I said, shaking my head from side to side as if that would make Ray’s image disappear.
We watched the rest of the video, looking for another glimpse of Ray, but we were disappointed. With trembling fingers, I zoomed in on every still photo in the article, but only turned up that one glimpse of Ray. I managed to screen shot his face and I stared hard at the image. I was certain it was him.

Basir’s talons dug into my shoulder as I opened a search engine and began looking for more articles on the Abbotshire dig. He was obviously as tense as I was. I found a few small articles on the dig but I hit pay dirt when I found the town’s website.
There was a page devoted entirely to the project, and I looked at every photo until I found one with a clear image of Ray speaking with Ash. I zoomed in and focused on the expression on Ray’s face.

He looked somehow furtive and irritated at the same time. I could almost picture his raised eyebrows and a sarcastic smile settling on his face. Whatever he was discussing with the lead archaeologist wasn’t making him happy. Serves you right! I thought to myself.

“What would that thief be doing on a dig?” I wondered aloud, tapping my fingers on the table. Basir clicked his beak thoughtfully.

“Let’s see what else we can find.” I said, clicking around the page for more information. There were a few preliminary maps detailing where the team would begin to dig. The site map looked more like they were sampling the area than they had a clear plan for the dig. I would have expected a much more organized grid plan if they were excavating with a real purpose.
A nice graphic overlaid an aerial map of the town. A few dig sites were marked, most were centered around a building that was identified as a twelfth century monastery.

“Great. More dead monks. That is Dr. Ash’s specialty.” I said, zooming in and looking at more detailed maps.

“Whooo.” Basir hooted softly.

“You think there’s something to that?” I asked, turning toward him.

He blinked slowly one time, but the single raised ear tuft made his affirmative answer somewhat questionable.

“Maybe.” I agreed, opening the link for Sanderdowns Abbey in the Abbotshire History section. I read the history aloud to Basir, finding nothing useful. “What’s he looking for?” I asked, feeling a growing certainty that not only was Dr. Ash digging for a particular relic, he was digging for something no respectable archaeologist would look for. Scientists certainly didn’t believe in magic.

I stood up and paced to the fridge, and filled a glass with ice water. I dumped part of it into a small ceramic bowl I kept on the counter for Basir. He hopped down and flicked his black tongue into the dish. I paced a little and leaned against the granite-topped island, alternating between staring at the computer screen and out the kitchen window.

I sighed and stalked back over to the computer. “Let’s see what else is going on around Abbotshire.” I said, searching for a local paper that was available on the web.

“Well, Rufus Albrecht is still missing. Don’t know who Rufus is, but it seems he was a local historian in Colton. Colton’s right next door to Abbotshire.” I shrugged and Basir raised his wings and settled them higher on his back. “You’re right, it’s probably not connected. Still, we’ll make a note of it.” I pulled a sheet of grid paper from my landscaping notebook and wrote down the name and date. Poor Rufus had been missing for nearly six weeks.

I made a few other notes about things I doubted had any connection to the Abbotshire dig, but I felt a growing need to discover everything I could about Dr. Stanley Ash and Raymond Swift Fox’s activities in the United Kingdom before I decided if I was going to do anything except stew about it.

Afternoon slipped into evening as I searched for everything that could be remotely connected to shady excavations and nefarious motives. I ate dinner while watching an online news clip about the sleepy little corner of England where the dig was beginning.

By the time Basir flew out of his doggy door in the high peak of the barn roof, I had filled four sheets of paper with random bits of information and my irritation was growing. They were definitely up to something; and I was frustrated as hell that I couldn’t figure out what.

I glanced at the doggy door and smiled. I had installed that door myself because it was hard to explain to a carpenter that I needed a special exit for my pet owl. I did a lot of the work around the house myself because of my unusual roommates. While the old barn wasn’t completely finished, it was warm and cozy with plenty of room for me and my magical companions.
We had managed to carve out a pretty nice life in western Massachusetts, but I still missed our nomadic life style. When I worked as a field archaeologist, Basir and I had traveled the world looking for adventure and ancient cultures, but we’d never had a home of our own.

I turned my attention back to my computer. I was maybe a teensy bit jealous over the Abbotshire dig, but the curiosity about the possible connection between Ray and Ash-hole was killing me.

There were people I could ask, but I didn’t want to sound like a paranoid stalker and there was no way I could call Ray’s cousin and ask him what Ray was up to without giving exactly that impression. Besides, I was through with magic – except to further my landscaping business.

I pushed myself away from the computer and headed into the bathroom. Maybe a nice hot shower and a few hours in front of the television would give me some distance from the mystery. Maybe I just needed to let it all go and get on with my life.
Ka’Tehm, the magical blue beaver who was my other housemate floated in lazy circles in the kiddie pool that I kept in the downstairs bathroom for his comfort. He blinked luminous silver eyes at me at I turned on the faucet to let the water warm up and I pulled towels and a soothing herbal charm from the linen closet.

“You don’t know what Ray’s doing in Abbotshire, do you?” I asked the beaver. He blinked twice at me and shook cool water droplets from his spectral fur. Ka’Tehm appears to be made mostly of water held together by some ancient magic that I don’t understand, and he’s not much on conversation.

There was a lot of that in my life, if I were being honest. There are no internet dating sites where I could put my ad: “Petite but curvy red-haired witch in hiding from the United Coven and Alliance seeks male companion with good job and no connections to the magic police for quiet dinners and conversation about past mistakes and wasted Ph.D.s. Must like owls and beavers.”

Witchcraft wasn’t exactly a quality most people looked for or even believed in. After my genetic ability nearly destroyed my life, it had offered salvation and stability, and I had come to terms with its practical and prudent uses – while still resenting the hell out of my lack of control over it. Magic and I had the ultimate love/hate relationship and it was growing more complicated every day.

I motioned for Ka’Tehm to turn around as I stripped and stepped into the claw foot tub I had rescued from the tractor bay downstairs. I dropped the herbal charm into the water and pulled the curtain closed, letting the hot steam carry the scent of honeysuckle and sage into my sore throat.

After I mentally rehashed the internet article for the third time, I felt like an obsessed fool. Raymond Swift Fox was on a magical adventure with Dr. Stanley Ash. They were two of the biggest frauds I knew and yet I wanted nothing more than to find out what they were up to. There was no way to convince me it wasn’t something bad, and no way to convince me to ignore it. I hauled myself out of the tub and wrapped the towel around me. Instead of being relaxed and ready for bed, I was more determined than ever to discover what was going on in Abbotshire.

Ka’Tehm swam around the pool and rearranged his collection of driftwood into yet another elaborate structure. He glanced at me and I swore I saw a faint smile on his furry face. I couldn’t get my mind to stop turning over the possible reasons Ray could be involved in an archaeological dig with Ash-hole. I didn’t feel good about any of the possible explanations.

Filed under: Archaeology, contemporary fantasy, fantasy writer, indie author, Legends, monasteries, Monks, Relic Hunter Characters Tagged: amazon, archaeology, book launch, book release, contemporary fantasy, contemporary fiction, Fantasy, fantasy fiction, fantasy series, fiction, indie author, indie books, Indie Writer, kindle, legends, magic, Mythology, new book, new fiction, New Release, new urban fantasy book, R. Leonia Shea, relic hunter, series, Urban fantasy, urban fantasy release, Urban Fantasy Series, witchcraft, writer

There really isn’t enough time in life.

Yesterday, I uploaded my new release on Amazon.com and this morning I was up before the sun and surfing around Pinterest and pinning garden ideas that I’d love to implement. I say would love to…but I also intended to work on my very neglected garden this year and never got around to it. Then there was the massive decluttering operation I planned…and never finished. Now, summer is officially over and I’m wondering where it went???

A good portion went into my book, for sure. The rest, though? That is a mystery. I remember a couple of vacations, a lot of time with my family, a few days at work, and the appointments/commitments/chores that are so much a part of daily life. Surely that doesn’t account for nearly THREE months. Now summer is over and my “to-do” list is still to-be-done, soon I’ll be doing my holiday shopping, then planning for spring chores and next year I’ll be right back here again…wondering where that time went.

In the meantime, I’m pulling out my outline for my next book and getting down to work. Since there isn’t much time in life, I might as well make the most of it and keep right on doing what I love. The garden will be there next year – and I always have the pretty pictures on Pinterest to look at.

Filed under: Uncategorized Tagged: Pinterest

My zen moment…

I’m uploaded and saved as “draft”. I’m going to revise the cover (so I don’t spoil the cover reveal!) and make Legendary Magic available for pre-order! Then I’m going to have a glass of wine and take a nap!

Filed under: Archaeology, contemporary fantasy, fantasy writer, indie author, Legends, marketing, monasteries, Monks, Relic Hunter Characters, self-publishing

Marketing Mayhem

The next time I see the person who challenged me to do more marketing, I’m going to kick her in the shins. Twice. I’ve been diligently developing a system and as soon as I clean up my notes on what I did yesterday and today (I’m too tired to do it now…) I’ll post it here in the hopes that it helps another indie author.

Filed under: contemporary fantasy, fantasy writer, indie author, marketing, self-publishing, Uncategorized, writing, Writing Tips Tagged: book marketing, indie book marketing, indie books, marketing

Can you help with my marketing blitz?

http://bit.ly/1tUwtpE

I told you I was getting serious about this marketing thing!  I made my first ever google form (took me an hour…because I’m new at this stuff!) so I could try and get some publicity for my new release.  The link is above and I’d love it if you’d consider helping me out with this. 

Filed under: contemporary fantasy, fantasy writer, indie author, Indie Book Review, marketing, self-publishing, Uncategorized, writing Tagged: book release, indie book marketing, marketing adventures, New Release, release blitz