D.E. Haggerty's Blog, page 17

Marketing a Pre-Order ~ Lessons learned ~ Part II #WriterWednesday #BookMarketing #AmWriting

Unlike the pre-orders for Searching for Gertrude, the pre-order numbers for Finders, Not Keepers are actually my highest ever. Excuse me while I do a dance. Okay, I’m back now. To read what went wrong with Searching for Gertrude, read last week’s blog post here. But establishing how I messed up isn’t enough. I need to understand exactly why Finders, Not Keepers is doing better. Here’s what I came up with.

Time. First of all, I have a lot more time to handle marketing and PR than I did last year. I made the somewhat stupid mistake of agreeing to serve on the board of directors of a non-profit for a year. I thought I could handle it. I thought it wouldn’t be that big of a commitment. I thought the president wouldn’t up and leave mid-term, leaving me to serve as vice-president and president. (I wasn’t too smart, was I?)

Newsletter. I’ve completely revised my newsletter this year as well. I used to only send out a newsletter when I had a new release coming out. Frankly, these newsletters were just me screaming ‘Look at me! Look at me! Buy my book! Buy my book!’ Not surprisingly, they weren’t very effective. I now do monthly updates. I’m also working hard on getting new followers.

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Newsletter swaps. One of the biggest takeaways from the London Book Fair for me was author collaboration. I decided to try this by joining a newsletter swap service. Each month when I’m drafting my newsletter, I head to the swap site and find books on sale in the same genres I write. When I have a sale, I add my sale to the site. Three authors included the pre-release sale of Finders, Not Keepers in their newsletter. I attribute 10 pre-orders to this.

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Build Up. As I now have more time, I participate in several memes on Twitter and Instagram that ‘market’ my work in progress such as #1linewed, #ThursdayAesthetic, and #WFFriday. I’m not sure these actually help in selling pre-orders, but they certainly don’t hurt. Even if they don’t help, they have helped me with having graphic material ready for the launch as well as finding quotes for teasers and drafting by-lines for future marketing material.

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Teaser Tuesday. I booked a Teaser Tuesday marketing flash with a blog tour company. My teasers and an excerpt of Finders, Not Keepers was published on around twenty blogs. I attribute approximately 10 pre-orders to Teaser Tuesday.

Genre. I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again – switching genres can be a career killer for an author. Searching for Gertrude was a historical fiction novel. I’ve worked hard to build up an audience for my murder mysteries. Many of these readers were uninterested in a novel taking place in wartime Istanbul. *pouts*

Reduced Price. I reduced the price of the pre-order for Finders, Not Keepers to 99 cents. Everyone loves a bargain!

In my humble opinion, the last two items, reduced price and genre, had the greatest effect on increasing the number of pre-orders. How many pre-orders have I got so far? I don’t think the actual number is very helpful (I’m not a bestseller, that’s for sure). But I will say that Finders, Not Keepers has more than three times the number of pre-orders as my previous record holder (the third book in a three-book series.)

 

 

Is life too short to read books you don’t like? #MondayBlogs #AmReading

[image error]It’s Monday, which means I should be writing a book review for one of the Pulitzer Prize winners for fiction. *Plot twist!* I’m not finished with the next prize winner. I’m currently on the 2014 winner, The Goldfinch. If you haven’t read this novel, let me tell you – it’s long. Over 800 pages long in fact. And it’s not the type of book you flip through quickly. Or at least it’s not the type of book I flip through quickly. In fact, I’ve been struggling to read this book since I picked it up at the Mauritshuis (the museum in The Hague where the painting The Goldfinch is displaying) last September.

[image error]As I struggled to read at least one-hundred pages this weekend, I started thinking about reading books you don’t like. I often read about bloggers who claim – life is too short to read books you don’t like. I’ve always had a problem with this saying. There are just some books that you don’t like, but you should read anyway. I, for one, hated Catcher In The Rye. But I’m glad I read it. It’s a book that is talked about often. If I hadn’t read it, I would feel left out as if I’d missed out on something.

[image error]Then, there are the books you don’t like because they are depressing. When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi is a good example. I wouldn’t say I hated this book or didn’t like it, but it was depressing as hell. If life is too short to read books you don’t like, then it’s definitely too short to read books that make you contemplate what the purpose of life is and whether it’s worth living. It took me months to recover from reading this novel!

[image error]And finally, there are books you don’t like but read anyway because you can learn from them. Atlas Shrugged from Ayn Rand is a good example of this. Coming in at over one-thousand pages, this is probably one of the longest books I’ve ever forced myself to read. I’ll be totally honest and admit I skimmed a lot towards the end. Long speeches? No, thank you. But I’m glad I read this novel as it describes various philosophical and economical ideals that are important to understand in today’s modern economy.

The above does not mean I believe you should continue to read every single book you don’t like. I’m often asked by authors to read and review their novel. At first, I absolutely refused to DNF any book I’d agreed to review. (DNF = Did Not Finish) I wanted to respect the work and effort of these authors. I’ve since learned that while life may not be too short to read books you don’t like, it’s definitely too short to read books you don’t like that are poorly written, have plot holes the size of the moon, or feature flat characters. I also have no problem not reading a book I’ve downloaded for free via Amazon’s kindle unlimited. An unedited novel is a sure to end up on my DNF list.

Life is not too short to read books you don’t like. Life is too short to read ‘bad’ books you don’t like.

 

Things writers can do during a heatwave #Summer #AmWriting #WritersLife

Although I’m sitting here at my desk with my balcony doors wide open (which is driving me crazy as it’s SOOO LOUD outside), I’m still sweltering. Although it’s not the triple digits (Fahrenheit) it was last week, it’s still uncomfortably warm for Holland. Spoiler alert: Our houses were not built for this weather. So yeah, it’s hot and I’m sticky with sweat. I probably smell. But, frankly, who cares? It’s summer. We are literally a fifteen-minute bike ride from the beach. And if that’s not your cup of tea, then there’s always a plethora of adult summer-type drinks. Sangria, anyone?

Normally, summer in Holland is … well… not really a summer. It’s rain, rain, rain. This is such a typical phenomenon that there are tons of memes about it:

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So, what do the Dutch do when instead of the lovely rain we usually have (sarcasm intended), there is a heat wave? They complain. And complain. And complain. It’s not very attractive.

Things to do instead:

1. Go swimming! Whether it’s the beach or an outdoor pool, getting in the water is a sure way to cool you down. And what better way to search for inspiration for that male character in your new book than ogling scrutinizing the men at the beach/pool?

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Feeling inspired yet?

2. Lay on your bed in as few clothes as possible with the fan pointed at you on high. If you ‘think’ about your current writing project, this even counts as work!

3. If you insist on really working (*rolls eyes*), then head to the local library. As a governmental building, the airco isn’t set as high as the grocery store, but it’s still refreshing. And the brownies at the café are to die for!

4. Take a cold shower or bath. Grab whatever summer read you’ve been neglecting and lay in a cool bath. Don’t you know that reading is technically work for a writer? #amreading

5. Go see a movie! The theaters are air-conditioned. There’s bound to be something you want to see. Mamma Mia is a great feelgood movie that will make you forget the weather. Who knows? Maybe a movie will serve as inspiration for a new story?

6. Hit up a museum. Museums contain priceless art and are therefore temperature controlled. YES! They are also a great source of inspiration. Personally, I’m working on a story which spawned from a painting by a Dutch Master. #WIP #beingmysteriousonpurpose

7. Stick your head in the freezer. Who knows there may be some cookies in there you forgot? #truestory

8. Go to the local grocery store and browse. Yes, browse. It’s airconditioned. Trust me, you’ll be in good company.

9. Search for a complicated sangria recipe. While browsing in the grocery store, buy the ingredients. I guarantee if you make the sangria correctly, you won’t care about the heat wave after two drinks. Maybe three. Bonus: You’ll think you can write like Hemingway.

10. Search for the most popular Italian ice cream café in town and bike there for a cold treat. If there was any time to jump off your diet bandwagon, it’s now!

No, go forth and DON’T COMPLAIN!!!

Happy weekend!

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Marketing a Pre-Order ~ Lessons learned #WriterWednesday #BookMarketing #AmWriting

[image error]Back in December of last year (when I wasn’t suffering from heat exhaustion), I was working on developing new ideas for marketing pre-orders as my novel, Searching for Gertrude, was on pre-order at the time. I came up with – or perhaps stole is the right word – the idea of giving away my previous historical fiction novel, Buried Appearances, to readers who purchased a pre-order of my new release. (To find out more, read the blog post here.) I promised to let everyone know how the idea worked. It’s taken me a while, but here’s my follow up.

The reason months have passed since the release of Searching for Gertrude and my writing this blog post follow-up is that I simply wasn’t sure what went wrong. Now that I’m busy marketing the pre-order of my new novel, Finders, Not Keepers, I have a much better idea of how I screwed up. Yes, screwed up. The pre-order numbers for Searching for Gertrude were abysmal. I was extremely disappointed as I spent a lot of time researching this novel. I am obnoxiously proud of this book. Personally, I think it’s my best writing. So, what went wrong?

Different genre : There is a reason marketing gurus urge writers to stick with one genre. Genre hopping is extremely difficult. If you’ve built up any type of readership, readers will expect your novels to be in the same genre. I thought – stupidly, it turns out – that since I wrote mysteries and romantic comedies, this didn’t apply to me. Wrong. Just wrong.

 

Fewer reviews: Unfortunately, many of my reviewers were uninterested in reviewing Searching for Gertrude as it wasn’t a mystery novel. This left me with a lot less reviews and everyone knows what that means – less sales.

 

Less time to market: If I’m completely honest with myself, I just didn’t have the time to put into marketing the novel. I made the somewhat stupid mistake of agreeing to serve on the board of directors of a non-profit for a year. I thought I could handle it. I thought it wouldn’t be that big of a commitment. I thought the president wouldn’t up and leave mid-term, leaving me to serve as vice-president and president. Turns out I am not superwoman (major bummer) and I couldn’t do all the things I wanted to. Marketing took last place on my to-do list and we all know you never get to the items on the bottom of your to-do list.

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As you can see from above, I don’t criticize the actual marketing idea of giving away a novel to get readers to pre-order Searching for Gertrude. That’s because I think it’s obvious that the issues with getting more pre-orders and sales of the novel have little to do with the marketing technique and more to do with the above reasons.

Next week I’ll talk about pre-orders for my upcoming novel Finders, Not Keepers and how successful (or not!) marketing for the pre-order has been with my latest novel.

 

My review of All The Light We Cannot See, the 2015 winner of the Pulitzer Prize for fiction #MondayBlogs #PulitzerPrize #PulitzerPrizeChallenge #AmReading #BookReview

[image error]I’m back on track this week with my Pulitzer Prize Challenge. I’ve just finished the 2015 winner of the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction, All The Light We Cannot See from Anthony Doerr. This book absolutely destroyed me – in a good way. I loved this book. Loved! Loved! Loved! I’m obsessed with WWII on the European Front, so it’s not such a surprise I would enjoy Doerr’s novel, which takes place in France and Germany in the years leading up to the war and the war itself. But this novel is so much more than a novel about the war. It is an epic story that explores the very depths of human nature.

When people ruminate about the great American novel, this is the type of book to which they are referring. Doerr doesn’t just describe Europe before and during the war. He opens the door for us to view that world through the eyes of Marie-Laure and Werner. He transports the reader to the streets of Paris and Saint Malo. You can almost taste the salt water from the sea in the air as you read. Then, he jumps to Germany and the coal mines where I could practically feel Werner’s desperate desire to find an escape from the mines awaiting him.

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(c) Antoine DECLERCK

After we fall in love with Marie-Laure and Werner (and I dare you to say you didn’t fall in love with these two), he slowly builds suspense as the war machine that was Nazi Germany revs its engines. My heart was in my throat as Marie-Laure fled Paris with her father. Werner’s journey was no less perilous. His exceptional skills with radios have allowed him to escape the mines, but what other horrors await him? Doerr jumps back and forth through time building and building suspense until a reader is forced to pull up a chair and turn the pages until the final culmination of the Battle for Brest and the occupation of Saint Malo.

Doerr connects the stories of the various characters in ways a reader would never suspect, but with the result that the story is interwoven in such a way as to remind us that humanity is not only made up of different tribes and cultures, but at its base we are all the same – We are all just human beings trying to survive in a sometimes extremely harsh world.

Everyone should read this novel. If nothing else to remind us of the damage caused to civilians during war.

*****

Coming up: I’m now reading The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt. I’ve been working on this book for months! The likelihood of finishing before next week is therefore low. Not to worry! Living just minutes from the actual painting, I can share some stories about it with you.

 

 

It’s all perspective, folks! Life as an expat #Expatliving #Travel

I’m feeling preachy today. You have been warned.

[image error]I’m often told – to my great surprise – that “In America, it works like this …” as if I don’t know what it’s like to live in the U.S. Hmmmm… pretty sure I grew up there, went to college and post-grad school there, and served in the U.S. Army. The thing is – the “American” making that statement often doesn’t know what it’s like to live in America either. Hold up! Before you get super angry with me and send me hate mail, let me explain.

 

The United States of America is not a federation in name only. Nope. It is a true federation where states have rights. Everything from your right to vote to your right to drive to gun carry laws are decided on a state and not federal basis. What I’m trying to say here in a bit of a legal nerdy way (sorry, recovering lawyer here) is that what it is like to live in America depends entirely on WHERE in America you are. If you’ve only lived in big cities, your perspective will be completely different than someone coming from a small town in the Midwest.

 

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Not the actual airfield in Ohio, but it’s pretty. 

My husband LOVES to tell the story of meeting some old guy at an airfield in Ohio. Once this man heard my hubby is Dutch, he had to comment on how dirty European cities are compared to the U.S. My husband, being the natural smart-ass that he is, asked him if he’d been in any U.S. cities. He hadn’t.

 

 

So, when you move to a foreign country and start comparing it to your own country remember to use some perspective. Are you now living in a small town but lived in a big city in the US? Or is it the other way around? You’ve always lived in New York City but now find yourself in a small town in the province of Limburg in the Netherlands. If so, aren’t you comparing apples to oranges?

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And don’t forget language barriers. Foreigners often complain about Dutch rudeness, and even I can’t deny they are very, very direct. They also often have a smart-ass type of humor, which can be subtle. When friends relay stories of Dutch rudeness to me, I often have to hide my chuckle. They only understand (some of) the words and not the nuances behind them – which is where the humor is. What they find rude is someone trying to make a joke!

So, before you start complaining about how things in your home country are way better than your adopted one, take a deep breathe and remember to use some perspective.

 

 

 

 

How to get a #bookblogger to review your novel #WriterWednesday #WritingTips

I am now in the purgatory that exists between finishing your novel and the actual publication date. During this time (which is usually a month but can stretch to nearly two months), I don’t like to start on a new novel project. Instead, I spend the time working on the marketing for the book launch. This includes my favorite thing in the world (NOT!) ~ review requests.

As I’m also a book blogger over on my Readsalot blog, I have a decent idea what makes a book blogger agree to review a novel and what makes a book blogger just delete your request without responding. I’ve tried to encompass my experiences as a book blogger into how I write review requests. Here are some of the highlights:

[image error]Don’t be boring. If your email is boring, I’m going to assume your novel is as well. Look at my website, my blog, my social media feeds, I’m not a very serious person. Don’t write me a serious email – especially not about a supposedly humorous novel. I am not “Dear Ms. Haggerty”. I’m just plain Dena. I don’t respond well to formal language. Been there, done that.

[image error]Be personal. You should ALWAYS address a review request to a person. Yes, this takes time. No, you can’t skip it and just say ‘hi!’. I can spend up to fifteen minutes searching a blog and social media to ensure I have the blogger’s first name correct. If I receive a request that is addressed to “D.E.” instead of Dena, I immediately hit delete. If you can’t take a few minutes to figure out my first name (it’s actually in my email address!), I’m not taking a few hours of my time to read your book. End of discussion.

Don’t use a form request. One of the reasons review requests take me so bloody long is that I tailor each request to the reviewer. Sure, I have the blurb and purchase links ready to go and these don’t change per request. But I change my intro paragraph for each review. Everyone likes to feel they are special – this includes book bloggers.

Find a commonality. One of the best ways to make a review request interesting and personal is to find a commonality with the blogger. Read the about page of the blog, study the reviews she’s written. You are bound to find something you have in common. Use that commonality to appeal to the blogger. Does she also hate step-brother romances? Use that!

Don’t send requests via social media. This is the fastest way to ensure you get blocked from an account. Goodreads discourages this practice to the extent that they will temporarily block your account if you send review requests via private message.

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I know what you’re thinking. This approach takes WAY TOO MUCH TIME. Yep, it totally does. I spend an average of thirty minutes per review request. Unfortunately, I can’t say I have a ton of reviews for all my novels. I get lazy after spending a few weeks doing twenty or thirty review requests. It’s not the most exciting part of being an indie author, that’s for sure. With each novel, I promise myself I’ll do my review requests. With each novel, I fail. Which means there’s room for improvement.

How about you? What approach do you find works best to convince book bloggers to review your novel?

 

 

Memories evoked by All The Light We Cannot See (Or how I embarrass myself yet again) #MondayBlogs #AmReading #History

[image error]As predicted, I didn’t manage to finish All The Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doeer yet. I’ve got a good excuse, though. It was my birthday weekend. Yes, weekend. Because when you reach a certain age, then you get to celebrate all weekend (or not at all, whatever you prefer). I did spend a few hours reading on Friday evening, and I’m absolutely loving this novel. The setting of the Second World War is immensely appealing as I’m a total history nut. In fact, I often make the hubby take me on weekends away to battlefields and museums rather than some romantic destination. (If you look up history geek in the dictionary, you’ll see a picture of me smiling and waving.)

[image error]The first chapter of All The Light We Cannot See, in which the allied troops bomb Saint-Malo, reminded me of one such weekend away with the hubby. For my fortieth (yikes!) birthday, we spent a weekend traipsing all over the Somme battlefield. We ended up at the Somme 1916 Museum in Albert. The museum is located in a tunnel dating from the 13th Century.

The tunnel now houses a museum of the Somme battle of 1916. When we visited, we had our dog with us, which meant we ended up taking turns visiting the museum. I would not recommend this. Let me explain. First, you descend 63 steps into the tunnel to start your visit at the museum. So far, so good. Then, you visit 12 different scenes depicting life in the trenches. Totally interesting. So interesting in fact that you start to feel as if you are actually a soldier in the trenches. This is where the problem begins, because the visit ends in a corridor with a light and sound show recreating the atmosphere of a night of bombing.

 

During the entire visit, you can hear the sound of ‘bombing’ emanating from the final corridor. Whenever the door opens for a visitor to enter the final corridor, lights are flashing. Before I even opened that door, my imagination had transported me back to 1916. And suddenly, there I was, completely alone in a trench with the sound of bombing all around me and lights flashing. I tried to walk through the trench. Really, I did. About half way through, I gave up and just ran to the end. There was no one to see my humiliation. Or at least that’s what I thought. When I ascended to the gift shop I noticed a wall of screens for the workers to monitor the visitors in the museum below. With my face burning, I rushed out of the door and went to find the hubby. And no, I didn’t tell him what was awaiting him at the bottom of the steps.

~~~~

Next week, I’ll be reviewing All The Light We Cannot See. Really, I promise. I can’t wait to finish! I may have pushed the hubby out of the door this morning as he left for a business trip to Australia.

Follow a peculiar explorer & downstrodden acrobat in the #adventure #comingofage novel from Patrick Canning #excerpt

A peculiar explorer and downtrodden acrobat span the globe on a building-sized hot air balloon, in search of a precious artifact and the murderous treasure hunter who seeks it.

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Title: The Colonel and the Bee

Author: Patrick Canning

Genre: Adventure/Coming of Age

Published: 6/1/2018

~ Blurb ~

Beatrix, a spirited but abused acrobat in a traveling circus, seeks more than her prison-like employment offers. More than anything, she wants to know her place in the world of the halcyon 19th century, a time when the last dark corners of the map were being sketched out and travel still possessed a kind of magic.

One night in Switzerland, the mysterious Colonel James Bacchus attends Beatrix’s show. This larger-than-life English gentleman, reputed to have a voracious appetite for female conquests, is most notable for traveling the world in a four-story hot air balloon called The Ox.

Beatrix flees that night to join the Colonel, and the two of them make a narrow escape—Beatrix from her abusive ringleader, the Colonel from a freshly-made cuckold. Beatrix, feeling the Colonel may have the answers to her problems, pledges to help him catch the criminal he seeks in exchange for passage on his magnificent balloon.

The criminal seeks a precious figurine, The Blue Star Sphinx, but he’s not alone. The Sphinx’s immense value has also drawn the attention of the world’s most deadly treasure hunters. A murder in Antwerp begins a path of mystery that leads all the way to the most isolated island on Earth.

Grab a copy!

Amazon

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~ Excerpt ~

“Flying the Ox is much more akin to playing an instrument than operating a machine. Approach the challenge less formally, do so with confidence, and the craft’s perfect obedience will be your reward.”

I lost sight of the burner strap and by accident pulled a vent on the main balloon. We began to rotate and descend with great rapidity. The Colonel allowed me to find the correct cord on my own, and I did so just in time as the Ox nearly scraped a rolling pasture hill, startling a herd of brown Belgian cows enough to sour their milk.

Taking care to avoid the ripping line, I continued to bring the Ox up, searching for the northwest wind. To my chagrin, I sent us southeast, and it took a deft intervention from the Colonel to set us right. Applying the correct pressure on the correct combination of cords in the correct sequence did indeed give him the appearance of an accomplished maestro.

“Skill comes with practice, and northwest can be elusive. Northeast can be downright tempestuous,” he said as if recalling a talented snooker rival.

I readied another question, but the Colonel anticipated me. He held up a gentle hand to stay the incoming query, motioned with both hands downward, indicating I should relax, then gestured to the edge of the Ox.

So worried I’d been about that morning’s lesson, I’d hardly taken a moment to observe our environment. I joined the Colonel at the railing, and became lightheaded with wonder. The full effect of flight had been disguised by darkness the previous night, and now, in the maturing light of dawn, I beheld a world transformed by perspective: rivers and mountains were maps come to life, trees were seas of leaves that shimmered emerald in the breeze, even birds flew at a height far below the Ox, moving like schools of fish in currents of wind.

“Toast my bloomin’ eyebrows,” I mumbled, forgoing any attempt at eloquence. “I didn’t know… I couldn’t have imagined…”

“Wonderful, isn’t it? From this height, we’re permitted to see plainly the orchestrations of daily life, rank with crisscrossing motives and the clutter of needless haste. Up here in the rarefied air we are weightless in cool æther, unspoiled by the odour and noise of man’s desires far below.”

We stood side by side, watching the scene in silence, until something in the distance stole the Colonel’s gaze.

“There. Antwerp on the horizon. Drink your leaf juice if you must.”

By now, all of the Manx were flying in a loose halo about the Ox, gently displacing the Belgian mist we floated in as they dove and twisted as birds in play.

“They have such charm and spirit,” I said.

“They detect my excitement. This visit could prove fruitful in our search for the criminal. He’s been most elusive thus far.”

“Do you know the murdered party?”

The Colonel’s face fell a note, but he recovered quickly.

“I’m interested in the criminal.”

“To bring him to justice?” I gulped my tea. “For this or a past transgression?”

“There is plenty to choose from. It is enough for you to know I seek an audience with the man.”

“He has committed other crimes?”

“Certainly.”

“Is he dangerous?”

“Most certainly.”

I finished my tea as the green vegetation and black soil of tilled fields shifted to the red brick and grey stone of buildings. Antwerp’s harbour introduced itself to the nose long before the eyes.

The Colonel inhaled deeply.

“Have you been?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“A bastion of crime and seafood, how I adore this city. I apologise as it’s unlikely we’ll have time for a proper tour. Perhaps a return under less harried circumstances. Unfurl those ropes there, won’t you?”

The spiderweb of roadways below passed ever faster as we descended. I let drop a collection of heavy ropes over the side of the Ox as the Colonel set her down in a rather regal park. Despite the posh surroundings, there was an air of danger. Apparently, the Colonel felt it too.

“No chance we’re deflating here,” he said. “Down the steps with you. Help secure us.”

 ~ About the Author ~

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Patrick spends as much time as possible turning coffee into words that look like books, shorts, and screenplays. Most of his stories attempt to look for the meaning of life in an adventurous way, and often employ humor, important since the search usually doesn’t turn up much.

Connect with the author at: My Website

 

Red Rider explores the depths of revenge & the strength of human bonds #thriller from Gerrit Steenhagen #excerpt

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Book title: Red Rider

Author: Gerrit Steenhagen

Genre: Thriller

Published: April 2nd, 2018

~ Blurb ~

A grieving father – known to the reader only as Teacher – takes on a new identity after the brutal murder of his teenaged son. Masquerading as a substitute teacher, he tracks down the killer – a high school senior – and methodically builds a web to entrap him. Teacher does not desire simple justice or death for the killer; he wants the killer to endure what his son endured. But Teacher’s plan takes a life-shattering turn when he must save his son’s former girlfriend from the clutches of the brutal MS-13 gang.

A taut, suspenseful thriller, Red Rider explores the depths of revenge and the strength of human bonds.

Grab a copy!

Amazon

 ~ Excerpt ~

A priest once told him: “Tragedy teaches us life is short and there is no time for hate. Sometimes in tragedy we find our life’s purpose.”

He told the priest: “Life is long without my son and there is only time for hate. My life’s purpose is to avenge my son’s death.”

Sleeping inconvenienced him. Sleeping took time from hate. He spent his night in a cemetery, lying atop a grave, bare-chested. His pressed shirt was draped over the headstone. His head rested on a bulletproof vest. His eyes were open and catatonic. He could be dead.

His phone vibrated. He didn’t blink. His phone flashed an event: Henry’s birthday, April 20th, 4:05 a.m. His eyes dried out. His vision blurred. Tears were stimulated. He blinked.

He sat up and dismissed the event. His phone blinked the time: 4:06 a.m. He strapped the vest to his torso. His hands shook again. He pulled the pressed shirt from the headstone. The name and date on the headstone matched the name and date that had flashed across his phone. Henry would’ve been eighteen today.

He buttoned his shirt. A price tag dangled from the sleeve. He tugged at it, gone. He looked for more tags. One dangled from his waist. He tugged at it, gone. He stood.

A streetlight shone upon a red motorcycle. A red helmet hung from one handle grip, a satchel hung from the other. He straddled the motorcycle, slid on the helmet, harnessed the satchel to his shoulder, leaned into the seat, twisted the grips, tapped the clutch, and kick-started the bike.

~ About the Author ~

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Gerrit Steenhagen grew up in San Diego, CA. He wrote, produced, and directed the indie drama If Tomorrow Comes. He currently resides in Los Angeles.

Author links: www.gerritsteenhagen.com