N.M. Silber's Blog, page 6

Big Announcement!!!

WA book trailer debuting 8/26 exclusively at TRSOR!

Exclusively at The Rock Stars of Romance – Check out the super sexy Winning Appeal book trailer designed by Jada D’Lee!

Funny Scene from Winning Appeal

Mark helped me into the back of the car as the driver, Louis, held the door for us. Louis was my usual driver when I went to these things. He worked for my father’s office and was trained in security.

It was a short ride, and we were approaching the museum within minutes. I reached into my clutch bag and pulled out a mint, offering Mark one, and popping another into my mouth. After all, there was nothing more embarrassing than getting caught with bad breath. Remember that I said that, by the way.

“So, still up for the limo sex?” Mark joked.

I laughed in surprise, and accidentally sucked the mint into my throat, getting it lodged there. I started choking and making a gurgling sound, and Louis, who was also trained in CPR, immediately crossed three lanes of traffic, and illegally parked on a median in the middle of the Ben Franklin Parkway.

Mark was already attempting to apply the Heimlich Maneuver on me, but Louis was having none of it. It was his job to save the senator’s daughter from the killer Altoid, and no one would stop him. He dove out of the driver’s seat, flew around to the back, and hauled me out of car. Then he proceeded to stand behind me and squeeze my ribs so hard, that my feet left the ground.

Mark was out of the car in an instant. Unfortunately, the instant, in question, was the one where the mint became dislodged and flew out of my mouth, hitting him square in the eye like a torpedo. He cried out in pain and covered his face, staggering forward. Have I mentioned we were in the middle of the Ben Franklin Parkway? Horns blasted, and Louis, who was also trained to take a bullet if necessary, threw himself into traffic, grabbed Mark and tossed him onto the median, covering him with his own body.

All of this happened within seconds, but luckily, we were close enough to the museum that the waiting photographers, who had zoom lenses, were able to capture all of it for posterity. And the tabloids. And my brother.

Mark and I were in amazingly good shape considering that I had nearly choked, and probably had a few cracked ribs, and he had been thrown to the pavement and blinded in one eye. In an effort to reclaim some semblance of dignity, we got back into the car, and Louis proceeded to drive us to the museum as if nothing had happened. I was going to have to speak to my father about giving Louis a raise.

We arrived at the museum and entered the line of cars. A few minutes later, Mark was helping me out, with his good hand, and we were being escorted off to area where journalists and photographers were waiting.

“Ms. Pierce, are you injured? … Ms. Pierce, what was going on out there? … Ms. Pierce, is your driver a member of the Secret Service? …” And then …

“Who is this handsome man escorting you, Beth?” That one stopped me in my tracks. I turned and saw a female reporter, with a spray tan in a shade of Oompa Loompa orange, and hair the color of a brass doorknob, giving Mark a flirtatious look. Fucking tabloid journalist.

“This Mark Patterson, a friend and colleague,” I muttered and smiled weakly.

“So Mark, are you and Beth an item?” asked someone off to our left. I glanced over and saw it was a guy with black hair, slicked down with more oil than in Venezuela, and wearing more bling than in the Tower of London. He had a camera and a smarmy smile. Fucking paparazzo.

“Like she said, we’re friends and colleagues. I couldn’t let such a lovely lady attend a party alone. Nobody would pay attention to the celebrities,” Mark said suavely and the journalists all gave appreciative chuckles.

Wow. This man had just been wounded by missile, plucked from traffic and crushed beneath a six foot five inch, two hundred and eighty pound chauffer. He had abrasions on his palms and his eye was starting to swell. Yet there he was, cracking jokes, grace under pressure. Fucking amazing.

Another Winning Appeal Teaser

Thanks to Midian from SMI Book Club for this one. :)

New Winning Appeal Teaser

Winning Appeal Teaser

Let’s talk, honey. I need your advice.

Okay, I need to ramble aimlessly and I no longer pay an analyst to listen to me, so you’re on deck. (I would get comfortable; this could take a while.)

Once upon a time, I wrote a book, (that started out “once upon a time,” coincidentally). The book did well, and I met some loyal readers. Amazingly, most are still following me around. (Hi, loyal readers.) I also met a few people who didn’t really “get it” and I don’t know where they are now, but I hope it’s painful. Then I wrote another book, and it happened again, except for now, some of those loyal readers were in countries I may not have heard of, let alone been to. So, everything seemed to going well; which, since this is my life, was a sign that things would soon take a turn for the worse.

And then things took a turn for the worse. The world of independent publishing became very crowded. I’m not talking “crowded” like a new trendy bar on a Friday evening at Happy Hour; I’m talking “crowded” like Black Friday at Best Buy when some cutting-edge piece of technology, (that they have exactly one of in stock), is on sale for $1.39 plus tax. So now, while I still seem, by some miracle, to be doing fairly well, it’s getting really hard for people to even notice when I release books. This is not helped by Facebook’s new marketing strategy for authors – which is basically to make them try to force people to join Google+ or take out a third mortgage to promote every post.

So, I’ve never actually tried the traditional publishing route, well, not in this country, anyway. I’ve tried it, (and liked it), in other countries, where some very nice people translated my books in other languages for me, so that people could curse in Yiddish in Portuguese. Why haven’t you done the publishing thing here, Nadine? (That’s me by the way, if you were one of those people stymied by the amazingly creative pen name N.M. Silber.) I’m glad you asked!

Well, I have a relative, (let’s just call her my mother-in-law), who is traditionally published, and when she explained how it worked to me, it didn’t sound like something that would be a good fit. (Kind of like how size 2 skinny jeans wouldn’t be a good for me.) I tend to be a little possessive about my characters, (I’m a Jewish mother), and I worried that a publisher would change them, and change my (flat, nasal, Fran Drescher-like), voice, and essentially, exert too much control over my work. So, while I’ve written a few Bestsellers, I’ve never written a query letter in my life.

You see where this going, right? Now, I’m afraid that I’m not going to continue to grow naturally as an author, because there are so many independent authors out there. I might need to consider reaching a broader audience. And these days, you might be able to actually negotiate a decent contract with a publisher, because they know you have other options. I’m seeing all these people who I wouldn’t have thought of as getting an agent, getting an agent.

So, I’m thinking, they say I write well; I like my international agents; maybe I should get an agent. But I don’t know any. And I’m kind of busy writing books; so I don’t have a lot of time to invest in searching for one, or figuring out how to write a query letter, or any of that stuff. Also, it’s not like I’m starving, I made more money in my first year as an author than I did in my first year as a lawyer. (Although, I will point out, that legal aid lawyers are not notoriously overpaid.) So, I mean, I could stay indie and still do okay, hopefully. But maybe if I tried the traditional publishing thing, I could reach more people, and thus, make more people feel good. (I don’t write angst – just sexy Rom Com.)

Okay, so here’s the deal. I’m friends with authors who are at all different places in their careers, and who have made all different career choices. Some of you, who chose the agent and traditional publishing route, message me please privately. I would like to hear about your experiences and whether you thought it was worth it. I promise to put it in the vault. If anyone knows of a particular agent who might be a good fit for me, (because they have an appreciation for loud-mouthed women with good comedic timing), let me know that too. Like I said, I don’t have time to go searching for people, and it won’t kill me to stay indie in the U.S., but if somebody says, “you know who should write to?” I might take the time to do it.

Okay so, that’s pretty much it. Let me know what you think. I won’t repeat anything – I swear. I’m a lawyer; I’m good at keeping stuff quiet. You could tell me you buried a body somewhere and I wouldn’t tell anyone – well, as long as you paid my fee. I’m not like a walking confessional, or anything. Anyway, thanks for listening and have a good day.

Love and office furniture (a scene from Winning Appeal)

Note from the author:

When I wrote Legal Briefs, I thought that I would never love another book as much, because Adam has always been my favorite character, and Lily has more of me in her than any of the others. I have to tell you, though, I think I’ve fallen in love with Winning Appeal too.

Even though he’s much less snarky than Adam, Mark is really funny, flirty, charming and sexy. Beth is witty, intelligent, open-minded and compassionate. If I ever met Mark, I would totally swoon, and even though she and I don’t have much in common, (other than being witty, intelligent, open-minded and compassionate), Beth and I would be great friends. When you meet them again, it’s four months after Adam and Lily’s wedding, and they are now these two poor, desperately infatuated people, pining for each other across an office, and imaging having sex with each other on all of the office furnishings. When they acknowledge their attraction, they become a couple falling in love and trying hard to be good while enjoying being bad. They have a really different dynamic than Adam and Lily, and also very different than Gabrielle and Braden. It’s unique, but still romantic and sexy and fun.

Best of all, Winning Appeal, while still being different in many ways, is still true to my voice, my writing style and my vision. I even worked in my signature touch of Scooby Doo. :) I hope that all of you will love it just as much as I do. I’m going release one more scene. This will probably be the last one, since it’s coming out in just over a month, and I don’t want to give too much away; but it’s one of my all-time favorites, so I wanted to share it.

Winning Appeal, copyright 2014/N.M. Silber, Coming September 8, 2014

I took the file down to Mark’s office, but he wasn’t there, so I just put it on his desk. When I turned to go, though, I realized that I had dropped a paper. I picked it up and bent over the desk to pop it into the file. Just then, I heard his voice.

“Okay, I’ll be back in a minute,” he called out to somebody. Before I could move, he spoke again. “Oh my God. You’re bent over my desk. And you look even better like that than I’ve imagined. All those times. Every day.” I quickly stood up and turned around in time to see him rake both hands through his hair. “Oh shit! I can’t believe I’m sexually harassing you in a law office.”

“You’re not sexually harassing me.” Before I could stop myself, the words were out of my mouth. “It would be sexual harassment if it was unwanted attention. Mark, I WANT you to bend me over your desk.”

He closed his door and came toward me, pulling me into his arms and bringing his mouth crashing down on mine. I responded by offering him my lips, my tongue, my whole body, arching my back and burying my fingers in his hair as we consumed each other wildly. I was already tingling and dizzy with lust, when he slid his hand between us. He began kneading my breast and brushing his thumb over the tip through my blouse, making me want to rip it off. The blouse, not his hand. I moaned quietly into his mouth, and it seemed to drive him crazy. He backed me up against the desk and thrust his hips against me, but then he groaned and broke away, taking a step back, and staring up at the ceiling. I followed his gaze, half expecting to see God, but it was just fluorescent lighting.

“We have to stop,” he said, breathing hard.

“I know. I’m sorry,” I said, making and effort to compose myself.

“I haven’t been this desperate since I was a teenager. I can’t concentrate. You know those Viagra commercials where they say go to the hospital if you have an erection that lasts longer than four hours?” I nodded. “Well, how long is our work day?”

“I can’t concentrate either; I think about you all the time. And you’re not the only one with a thing for office furniture. During that meeting, I fantasized about having sex with you on the conference table.”

“Oh my God.” He groaned again. “Don’t tell me THAT!” He looked like he might cry.

“Mark, we can’t go on like this.”

“Beth, I want you so much, and it’s weird to hear myself say this, but for more than just sex. I’m worried I’ll fuck it up, though, and then you’ll hate me …”

“Mark …”

“And we’ll still have to work together, and Braden will hate me too … if he doesn’t kill me first …”

“I’ve thought about all that too. And the truth is, that I’ve never really been that great at relationships myself. Originally, I just wanted to sleep with you, but now I want more than that too. I was so jealous of Caitlin.”

“Of … what?! Beth, she thinks my name is Mike! I didn’t even remember her name. I’m not sure I ever knew it. The only thing I remember about her is how annoying she was.”

“Still, she’s slept with you and I haven’t.”

“You’ve kissed me and she hasn’t. Well, not … anyway. Trust me, we can remedy that other one.”

“Can we?” I asked breathlessly.

“We have to. I’m running out of office furniture to fantasize about banging you on, and I’m Googling ‘injury’ and ‘excessive masturbation’.”

“Maybe we could start out by being together quietly on weekends,” Screw the male ego, I was desperate, and I couldn’t wait any longer for him to suggest it.

“Adam suggested that, and I thought it sounded nuts, but Braden wants me to go to these fundraisers with you, and it’s hard to dance with blue balls. Besides, I do want try to figure out how to do the dating thing, and it would be like practice.”

“Then, when we were good at it, we could tell other people,” I added. “About the dating, not the sex.”

“Yeah, let’s never mention the sex to Braden,” he agreed. “Hopefully, he won’t kill me anyway for not telling him sooner that I’ve been romantically involved with his sister.”

“Okay, tomorrow then, it’s a date,” I said, in a throaty voice and I saw his eyes darken and start to look hazy as he came closer again.

“Tomorrow, it’s a date,” he repeated, making me shiver.

“Will you come out to the pub tonight with everybody? I mean, you’re not going to go out … somewhere else tonight?”

“No! What do you think; I’m going to make a farewell appearance at the clubs?” He was leaning down, about to kiss me again, when the sound of a quick knock and the door opening surprised us.

“Hey, you’d get lost?” Adam asked, and Mark spun around quickly. “Oh! Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.” He looked amused, as usual.

“And yet, there you stand, interrupting,” Mark replied. Adam laughed and I got the feeling that it was an inside joke.

Spend the night with Mark.

Spend the night with Mark Patterson, at Hooked on Books Wednesday July 30th from 7-9 PM EST.

https://www.facebook.com/hookedonbooks05

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