D.E. Haggerty's Blog, page 57
January 16, 2017
Read an excerpt of Cottage in the Mist #timetravel #romance from @deesdavis #giveaway
Cottage in the Mist
Dee Davis
Time Travel Romance
Date Published: March 2016
Mo Chridhe Gu Bràth. My heart forever.
Ancient words, a powerful legend, a timeless love…
Lily Chastain has lost everything—her family, her inheritance, and her fiancé. Desperate to escape her pain, she heads for a remote castle in Scotland, but is trapped by a violent storm along the way. Injured and alone, she is drawn by a lighted cottage in the mist. What she finds there will change her life forever.
Attacked by a vicious rival and betrayed by someone from his own clan, Bram Macgillivray finds himself alone and on the run. His father is dead, his holding all but destroyed. Wanting vengeance, he seeks out the help of his cousins, but finds instead a beautiful woman who calls to his heart.
After losing herself in an unexpected and wonderful night of sensuality, Lily wakes to find Bram gone. But even more disturbing, when she leaves the sanctuary of the cottage, she finds that it has disappeared as well.
Separated by over five hundred years, yet tied together through a magic stronger than the bonds of time and place, Lily and Bram fight to find each other again. And as Lily uncovers the secrets of the past, she must race to find a way back to save the only man she’s ever truly loved.
Grab a copy here!
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Excerpt
Scotland – 1468
There was danger. Bram could feel it all around him. Fire raced up the wooden steps that lead up to the door leading into the tower. And he could see more flames thrusting out of the windows, black smoke spiraling into the night sky. Throwing his plaid over his face, he ran up the steps, but was stopped by one of the tower’s guards.
The man raised his claymore, his eyes narrowed as the deadly blade began its descent. Bram pivoted, and then swung his own weapon, confused as to where he was and why he was fighting. The man fell, only to be replaced by another. Bram called to him, some part of him recognizing a face that still seemed a stranger, but this man, too, seemed intent only on stopping him.
His mind argued that nothing made sense, even as his heart screamed that he must get inside. If he did not then that which was most precious to him would be lost. He knew this as surely as he drew breath.
With a twist and a parry he drew the man off, and then made quick work of him, dashing through the opening of the tower, down the hallway and into the great hall. A place meant for comfort it offered only danger now. It too was full of flame, and lined with enemies.
Again the thought brought him up short. But there was no time to try and understand. Fear pushed him forward. He surged into the fray, moving toward the stairway at the far end of the room. It gave access to the chambers above and it was there he knew he would find her.
His brain recoiled. Find who? But his heart urged him forward, and he fought his way to the bottom of the steps, then ran up them, taking them two at a time, knowing the other swordsmen were fast on his heels.
At the top he froze for a moment, the thick smoke disorienting him. The fire was much worse here. Pushing forward, he breathed through the heavy wool of his plaid, keeping sword at the ready. The first chamber was empty. As was the solar and the chamber beyond it. But then from down the narrow hallway he heard a cry.
Heart thundering in his ears, he ran through the flames and smoke. A timber fell, glancing off of his shoulder, and he hardly felt it, the need to find her overriding everything else.
He called for her, his voice swallowed by the raging fire. Another timber fell, and a wall collapsed. He jumped across a gaping hole in the floor, landing hard, but still moving. The doorway ahead was edged in flames, the smoke and fire roiling like some kind of evil spirit.
Ignoring the danger, he sprinted forward, through the opening, again calling her name.
And then, through the shimmering heat, he saw her, tied to the bedframe, her long hair unbound, her green eyes wide with fear.
“Go back,” she screamed.
But he pushed onward, stumbling as still more of the burning tower fell. “I’ll no’ leave you.” His words were whipped away by the inferno surrounding them. But he knew that she had heard him.
There were only a few feet between them now. There was bruising on her face, and a trickle of blood at the corner of her beautiful mouth, and he swore there would be hell to pay.
But first, he had to free her.
He reached out a hand, but as he did so, the ceiling above him crashed to the ground. One moment he was looking into her eyes—and the next, she was gone.
About the Author
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Bestselling author Dee Davis’s highly acclaimed first novel was published in 2000. Since then, she’s won the Booksellers Best, Golden Leaf, Texas Gold, Golden Apple and Prism awards, and been nominated for the National Readers’ Choice Award, the Holt and three RT Reviewers Choice Awards. She is the author of over thirty novels and novellas and is an honor roll member of NJRW. When not frantically trying to meet a deadline, Dee spends her time at her Connecticut farmhouse with her husband and Cardigan Welsh Corgis.
Stalk her!
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Giveaway
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Read an excerpt & my review of Call to Honor by @TawnyWeber #romance #bookreview #giveaway
Known for her distinctive ability to blend emotion, humor and suspense in tight gripping stories featuring irresistible alpha SEAL heroes, New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Tawny Weber returns with her brand-new novel, CALL TO HONOR, the first book of three in her SEAL Brotherhood series.
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Title: Call to Honor
Author: Tawny Weber
Publisher: Harlequin
Release Date: January 31, 2017
Genre: Contemporary Romance
ISBN: 9780373799282
The Poseidon team are hard-bodied, fiercely competitive navy SEALs. But when a sensitive mission goes disastrously wrong, three of the team’s finest will have to trust their hearts and instincts to uncover the truth…
“No man left behind” is inscribed in the DNA of every SEAL and Lieutenant Diego Torres is no exception. But with a team member killed—and the body missing—Diego’s honor is sorely tested. Now his career and reputation are on the line, and a traitor is hiding among them. Diego wants answers…and only one woman has them.
Single mom Harper Maclean has two priorities—raising her son Nathan and starting a new life. Her mysterious new neighbor may be impossibly charming, but Diego asks too many questions about her past—and about the father of her child. Questions she fears will reveal her burning attraction for Diego, and ultimately put them all in danger’s path.
Add to your TBR list: Goodreads
Available: Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Kobo | iTunes
Excerpt
“You’re the best, mister.” The kid had to get his smile from his mother, Diego decided. Because not once could Diego remember Ramsey’s smile making him want to offer one in return.
“Diego,” he said after a second, figuring talking was better than standing here on the sidewalk, grinning like an idiot. “You can call me Diego.”
“Cool. I’m Nathan. I’m seven. I’m gonna be a stuntman when I grow up. Or a veterinarian. I’d rather be a Jedi warrior, but Mom says we’ll see about that one. She says that about a lot of stuff. We’ll see. What are you?”
Huh? Was that a question? The kid’s expression said it was, so Diego did a mental replay.
“I’m in security,” he said, using the cover Savino had decided on.
“Bet you’re good at it.” Grabbing the bike by the handles, the kid gave it a good shake, then grinned when the chain stayed in place. “You’re good at fixing things, too. Maybe you could teach me to fix some things?”
Diego didn’t have much experience with kids—hell, he didn’t have any experience. Despite that, he had to figure this one was something special.
Before he could answer him, a delivery truck rumbled its way to a stop in front of the kid’s house. Something he’d noticed was a regular occurrence. At least once, sometimes twice a day.
“You sure get a lot of deliveries,” he observed, watching a guy in shorts carry a stack of boxes toward the door.
“Yeah. Mom gets tons of stuff. She decorates for people’s houses. She orders pillows and bowls and things like that. Sometimes she gets material and things to help her decide colors.”
Convenient. Or it would be if Ramsey were running drugs or stolen goods—that’d be a solid cover. But unless he’d shipped himself home in an ash can, it probably wasn’t pertinent. Lansky would claim otherwise, though, so Diego made a note to mention it in his next report.
He caught a flash of something out of the corner of his eye. All it took was a casual glance toward the house to send him rocking back on his heels.
Damn.
Not even signing for a slew of packages and fending off the flirtations of the delivery guy were enough to keep Harper Maclean from sending her son a protective frown.
So far his glimpses of her had been at a longer distance than the twenty feet currently separating them. Her photos didn’t do her justice. He’d known she was a looker, but no way he’d have thought fully dressed in person could trump that bikini shot, even if that bikini shot had been kind of blurry.
He’d have been wrong.
Copyright © 2017 by Tawny Weber
My review
Call to Honor is a contemporary romance novel with a Navy Seal hero. The hero, Diego Torres, is hot, hot, hot. I wouldn’t kick him out of my bed, but I may find it difficult to spend any time outside of the bedroom with him. If he’s not working out, he’s whining. Can he tell us he’s bored more often? Being in the military is whole lot of hurry up and wait. There is a ton of boredom, but Diego acted like he couldn’t handle a bit of waiting around. That he didn’t know how to date and therefore was unsure how to ask Harper questions I could see. But does he not know how to make new friends? Harper was perfect: beautiful but didn’t realize it, smart, and a great mom. She also had a great business. She was a little bit too perfect.
The story itself was a bit slow for me. There was entirely too much introspection. How many times do we need to hear Diego question his ability to be a spy or Harper obsess about pretty much everything? With the hero being a Navy Seal and the father of Harper’s child being a missing Navy Seal, I expected a ton of action. Although there is a bit of suspense at the end, the majority of the book was a slow ride. Unfortunately, not all our questions regarding the mission gone wrong are answered before the book ends.
About Tawny Weber:
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The New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of more than 40 books, Tawny Weber writes sassy, emotional romances with a dash of humor, featuring hot alpha heroes. The recipient of numerous awards, she has also hit number one on the Amazon and Barnes & Noble bestseller lists. Readers can visit Tawny’s website http://www.tawnyweber.com for free reads, first chapters, insider story info and much more. . You can also find her on Facebook, Twitter and Goodreads. Tawny lives in Northern California with her family.
Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads | Amazon
Giveaway
Harlequin is offering one (1) lucky winner a $25 Amazon Gift Card! To enter, simply fill out the Rafflecopter below:
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January 13, 2017
How living abroad has changed my use of the English language #Expatlife
I’ve lived in non-English speaking countries for the vast majority of my adult life. [Warning: The use of the word adult here refers to an age over 18 and not to any level of maturity.] This has had an impact on my English in obvious ways. I try to enunciate properly and use less complicated words, although I may, on occasion, purposely use obscure words to rile up my husband. [See warning above about level of maturity.] But there are other ways in which my English has altered that may be less obvious to non-native English speakers. Here are three examples to give you a taste of what in the blooming bollocks I’m on about.
[image error]Wisconsin. It started as a joke. I was participating in a conference call while working for a law firm here in the Netherlands with an American law firm. At some point, the American lawyer said something about how great my English is. Instead of saying duh!, I responded: It’s because I’m from Wis-KAHN-suhn. For those of you scratching your heads in confusion, let me explain that those of us from the civilized parts of the state simply call it Wisconsin, not Wiskahnsuhn. For reasons I cannot explain, I thought saying Wis-KAHN-suhn was incredibly funny and just kept saying it after that initial conference call. At some point, I couldn’t pronounce the bloody state in any other way.
[image error]British slang. Despite the United States having a population that is nearly five times the population of the United Kingdom, you will run into a lot more Brits while living in Continental Europe than Americans. It’s only natural that being friends with the English and Scottish had a profound effect on my American English. And it’s just so fun! Who wouldn’t rather fall arse over tit instead of stumble? I may be the Empress of Potty Mouth, but I have to clean my language up when I’m around my family or face the wrath of my eldest sister. Of course, I’m a cheeky bugger and can’t help using British slang which may or may not cause my family to roll their eyes at me and ignore whatever bollocks is coming out of my mouth. I love taking the piss!
Y’all. My use of y’all started in the military. The U.S. Army is full of Southerners. (If you want to go full nerd, here are the statistics: In 2013, 44% of all military recruits came from the South region of the U.S. despite it having only 36% of the country’s 18-24 year-old civilian population.) Naturally, I started imitating the use of y’all from my Southern colleagues. (Are they still called colleagues when you spend all your time together doing one of two things: either suffering through hell or trying to outdrink each other?) After earning my freedom from the U.S. Army, I pretty much dropped the use of y’all. But you can’t keep a good catchphrase down. I spent years speaking Dutch and German and to a lesser extent French. Do you know what these languages have in common? A plural form of you. It now drives me bananas that English has no plural form of you (anymore). So, yep, I use y’all or you all. Whenever anyone calls me on it, I begin a nerdy explanation of the lack of a plural form of you in English. That teaches them!
How about the rest of you expats? Any strange English language habits you’ve picked up?
January 12, 2017
Spotlight on @EdwinHerbert411 Author of Mythos Christos #historicalsuspense #AuthorSpotlight
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Title: Mythos Christos
Author: Edwin Herbert
Genre: historical / suspense
Published: eBook 2-1-16; paperback 1-15-17.
Synopsis:
Alexandria, Egypt / AD 391 ─ When the great temple of Serapis and its library annex are destroyed by the Christian mob, the Neoplatonist philosopher Hypatia becomes concerned the Great Library might suffer the same fate. She vows to save as much of the ancient knowledge as she can, especially certain telling documents concerning the origins of Christianity. But rather than merely hiding the heretical scrolls and codices in desert caves and hoping for the best, Hypatia contrives a far more ingenious plan. She sets up an elaborate sequence of burials, each of which is governed by actual ancient linguistic and geometrical riddles which must be solved to gain access. Only one steeped in Platonic mysticism would be capable of finding and unlocking the buried secrets.
Oxford, England / June, 2006 ─ American Rhodes scholar Lex Thomasson is sent by his professor to Alexandria to aid a mysterious Vatican group known only as “The Commission.” They require a specialist in ancient languages to solve a sequence of Greek Mystery puzzles in what soon becomes evident is an ancient treasure hunt. The Oxford paleographer demonstrates his unique talents by unlocking the secrets along the trail. It does not take long, however, for him to become suspicious of the Commission’s true motives, and the trail becomes a trial fraught with danger.
The scene alternates between the two time periods. In both, assassins lurk and fanatics abound. And all along, religious Faith and historical Truth struggle for supremacy
Grab a copy:
Pre-order the paperback version now!
Excerpt:
… The Artemis set sail once again on a course for the Nile delta. But as they neared the African coast after sundown, the sea became eerily calm and a dense fog enveloped the ship like a blanket.
When the main sail slackened, first mate Jovian ordered the galley officer to rouse the oarsmen. Peering about, all sense of direction was lost for him. But he didn’t panic, as the experienced captain Scaphilos always seemed to have an uncanny feel for his ship’s bearings. And anyway a patch of dense fog was better than a tempest—usually. Yet all knew there were unseen currents that could strand an unwary vessel upon some shallow shoal, scuttle it on a razor-sharp reef, or run it into a rocky promontory.
Scaphilos emerged from his slumber below decks, took one look past his ship’s brazen prow and roared, “Hard to port!”
Jovian repeated the order in a deep-throated bellow that reverberated through the timbers. In response the galley slaves plied the oars and sailors at the stern pulled the ship’s great rudder.
“I’ve no idea how the captain reckons sou-sou-west from nor-nor-east in this soup without a single star to guide him,” Jovian murmured to Helladus, who sat amidships observing the sailors’ activities. “But I’ll not question his judgment. Scaph has always steered us aright in the past.”
Jovian then sent a boy to the crow’s nest on the main mast, but he reported the view was no better.
On they rowed for hours, the creak of the oars and the rhythmic beat of the drum were all that could be heard, other than the captain’s periodic course correction and his first mate’s booming echo. Jovian and Helladus watched as the captain stared ahead into nothingness.
“Think you he summons the guidance of Poseidon to divine the next change of tack?” Jovian whispered.
Helladus shrugged. They observed Scaphilos intermittently consult a strange stone’s effect on a tiny scrap of iron.
“Claims it’s a magical device a Phoenician friend gave him, who in turn procured it from a peculiar people who come from the land of the rising sun,” Jovian explained.
“Probably a lodestone,” said Helladus.
“Well, how this lodestone helps him determine his galley’s orientation, I can’t fathom. But I know the Phoenicians to be a secretive lot and so it’s futile to question the captain about it. If the rest of the crew doubts his sanity, they best keep it to themselves.”
Before the dawn goddess took her golden throne, a dim beacon light shimmered through the nearly opaque billows. It came intermittently at first, then stabilized into a bright point off the right of the ship’s bow.
“The Lighthouse of Alexandria!” Jovian shouted. “Now there’s a true guiding light. A real savior.”
The saturnine sea skipper exhibited a rare smile, and a cheer from the deck of the Artemis rose up over the wine-dark sea. Helladus smiled too as he watched the great tower loom ever larger in the glow of morning.
Author bio:
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Edwin Herbert has been a newspaper op-ed columnist, an avid promoter of science and skepticism, and a leader in his local freethought society. He has a busy optometry practice in southwestern Wisconsin, where he lives with his wife in their empty nest. Mythos Christos is his debut novel.
Stalk him!
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January 11, 2017
My dumbest (ouch!) mistake as a writer #WriterWednesday #amwriting
Before I took on the task of writing full-time, I worked at home for several years. Everyone warned me about staying motivated and making sure I didn’t let my work take over my life. I never had a problem with motivation (I may have hated being a lawyer, but NO ONE could complain about my work ethic), but I did take their advice about ensuring I maintained a private life. It was simple really. I had a home office and that’s where I worked on legal stuff. Period. End of discussion. Sure, I might work until late in the night or get up way too early in the morning to work, but I only worked in my office. My living room, bedroom, etc. was my space and off limits to Lawyer Dena.
After taking writing on full-time, I did the same thing. I got up early in the morning and headed to my office. No matter the level of my creativity or motivation, I worked in that office nearly every morning. I created an entire routine – heck! an entire life – around working in the morning. And sure, I do get a lot of writing done in the morning. That’s not my mistake. My mistake – in addition to the typical writer’s mistake of not writing ideas down as soon as they hit – is that I rigidly refused to write outside of that time.
[image error]My muse is a pushy bitch. She’s always throwing ideas my way. Sometimes it’s a blog idea (this idea came to me as I was changing into my tennis gear). Other times, it’s a joke I want one of my characters to tell. Chapter ideas, characters ideas, you name it. She’s pushing, pushing, pushing. All the freaking time. And I’m not complaining about that. It’s great. She may be pushy, but she’s also totally awesome.
And what did I do with all these ideas? I’d think about them while walking the dog or driving my car or even at the check-out lane in the grocery store. I may even write a few lines in my notebook or, more likely, in my phone because I always have my phone with me. But that’s where it stopped. Even if I was bubbling over with a funny scene I wanted to write or had composed an entire blog post in my head, I didn’t actually do more than write a note down somewhere.
This is where you all nod your heads and agree how stupid that was. When creativity strikes, we writers must listen. So, my new resolution is to make sure I strike while the iron’s hot. I may not get the entire scene or blog written, but a note longer than my dumbest mistake as a writer is mandatory. Because that note doesn’t make any sense in the morning when I actually sit down behind my computer. I’ll continue to do the vast majority of my writing in the morning, but, hopefully, I won’t forget all those wonderful ideas my muse keeps sending me. Because no one wants to piss off a bitchy muse.
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January 9, 2017
Read an excerpt of Final Mend from @angelaswriter #romanticsuspense #giveaway
Final Mend
Romantic Suspense
Date Published: June 23, 2014
Publisher: Crimson Romance
~ Synopsis ~
A recovering alcoholic, Jake Inman has found a new, healthier addiction: training for his successful triathlon career. But when his manager is murdered and beloved goddaughter kidnapped, another obsession takes hold: doing whatever it takes to find Brandon’s killer and keep Amy safe. Jake turns to a private investigator for help in solving the case, and though he finds temptation in her whiskey-colored eyes, he knows he must resist his attraction, or risk losing his heart.
After a devastating case, Winona Wall has turned her back on her skills as a private investigator, preferring a quiet life as a part-time bartender. That is, until Jake storms into the bar, demanding her help in tracking his missing godchild. Unable to resist Jake’s charm, she reluctantly agrees. But even after Amy is found unharmed, Jake insists Amy’s mother was more involved with her kidnapping than the police suspect. When the situation takes a turn for the worse, Winona must trust her instincts in order to save them all—and avoid falling in love.
Grab a copy now!
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~ Excerpt ~
The Jeep bounced along the road, up steep mountain slopes, as rain fell in sheets. Winona gasped as the Jeep slid through slick channels of mud, but Jake managed to hold it tight. The roads were spongy, absorbing water, then wringing it out in a collection of goo.
She imagined water gushing around her. Imagined falling to their death. Being sucked into the earth by sludge. The sky had turned dark, merciless, and she couldn’t see a damn thing but the Jeep lights soaking an otherwise indistinguishable trail. The wind clamored across the ragtop as if it wasn’t even attached.
“We’re almost there,” Jake had assured her several times as she clenched the grab handle. They had made it past the public roads just fine, and she felt this trail was way worse than he’d described. “It feels worse than it is,” he continued. “I’ve traveled this road hundreds of times.”
“We should wait for backup.” She checked her phone yet again but had no service. She couldn’t call Garret to find out what was going on at his end, and none of her texts was going through. As a private investigator, she’d done many stupid things alone. This ranked top of her list.
She opened the glove compartment. Searched under the seats, behind the seats.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking to see if Chayton has any ammo or guns in his Jeep. Knowing my brother, he doesn’t.”
Her arsenal consisted of the .380 she’d hidden in her pants and the 9mm she kept in her purse. She’d feel much better if she had an assault rifle as backup, or at least her shotgun. Not that she could handle any more than two at a time anyway, if she was lucky to handle more than one.
Jake cracked his knuckles. “The only ammo I need is right here.”
Winona settled in her seat and faced him. He continued to peer out the window as the heavy downpour seemed to crack the Jeep’s ragtop. But the Jeep held steady. “Really, Jake?”
“Yep. That and adrenaline.”
“So your fists, your arms, will help you dodge bullets? You don’t think that whoever we meet at this cabin won’t have their adrenaline? You know we could be heading into a trap, right?”
“You think I care about that right now? All I care about is my little girl.”
“How do we know she’s even there? Lillian could be lying to you. Setting you up. If she had anything to do with Brandon’s murder, anything at all, then—”
“You didn’t have to come!”
“We can’t just go in there without a plan.”
“I have a plan.”
“We don’t even know who’s there. How many are there. If Amy is even there.”
“I know that cabin like the back of my hand. We’re close, and I’m damn sure not stopping or turning around.”
She squared her shoulders, digging in her purse for the 9mm. She checked the clip and handed it to him.
“Do you at least know how to shoot?”
“Are you kidding me, Winona?”
“No, I’m not kidding you. If it comes down to it, can you shoot a living, breathing human being if he’s threatening your life or those you love?”
“Maybe you’re a tough street chick who carries a couple of guns everywhere she goes. I can picture you with an AK on your back and a belt of bullets strapped around your chest. But I can hold my own. I might not be a cop, but I’m probably a better marksman than most. I was four years old when I shot my dad’s rifle for the first time. I grew up around hunting and fishing, spitting and shooting.”
“Hunting is a lot different than killing a person.”
“And you would know better than me how?”
“Well, I’ve never had to kill anyone. Most of my PI work didn’t involve danger.”
Jake glanced at her. Shadows deepened the hard lines of his face, making him appear lethal. But the last time a friend had helped in an investigation, he’d ended up dead.
In many ways Jake reminded her of Naomi’s ex, Caleb. Caleb had become addicted to alcohol, ruined his relationship with Naomi, and Winona had befriended him when he came to Montana to try to win Naomi back. He was trying to change, trying to get better, when he was shot outside the police station by the cronies who wanted to kill Garret.
Caleb had died because of quick and irrational decisions. At the time, she had been holed up safely with her mother and she knew it was nobody’s fault. But she knew they hadn’t thought things through, and she worried the same thing was about to happen again.
“If my life or the life of anyone I care about is in danger, I will shoot. If you threatened Amy, I’d shoot you.” Jake patted her on the leg before returning his hands to the wheel. “You worry too much. Stop worrying.” He turned off the lights and drove.
“What are you doing?” Winona squinted through the gray. It shouldn’t be dark yet, but the unrelenting skies held the sun hostage.
Jake pulled under a tree and shut off the engine.
“I think it’s best if we walk the rest of the way.”
“Walk? I didn’t exactly bring my hiking gear.”
Jake glanced down at her tennis shoes. “Those will have to do.”
~ About the Author ~
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Angela Smith is a Texas native and was dubbed most likely to write a novel during her senior year in high school since she always had her nose stuck in a book. Although high school was decades ago, the dream began when her mom read ‘Brer Rabbit’ to her and her sister so often they could recite it back to each other before ever learning to read. Research is one of her favorite parts of piecing together a story, and she loves creating new characters. Angela started with writing romantic suspense and is branching into other genres, but she hasn’t been able to write one yet where falling in love doesn’t come into play. She works as a certified paralegal and office manager at her local District Attorney’s office and spends her free time with her husband and the animals on her small farm. Although life in general keeps her very busy, her passion for writing and getting the stories out of her head tends to make her restless if she isn’t following what some people call her destiny.
Stalk her here!
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Giveaway
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Why not me? #amwriting #authormarketing #MondayBlogs
[image error]We’ve all done it. Read a book that’s high in the Amazon bestseller ranks and wondered why in the world that book is selling better than one of our own. Why not me? may even be screamed as the book is thrown across the room in a fit of rage. Slight exaggeration. Unfortunately, it’s not a terribly uncommon occurrence for me. I read way too much. (Not really. I’m just saying that in case my husband read this. Hi, babe. *waves*) Anyway, I decided to stop bitching about the situation and try and figure out why other books sell better than mine. Assuming that my works are as well written as other top selling self-published books, what could possibly be the reason for my lackluster sales? (And yes, that’s a big assumption, but I can dream, can’t I?)
Genre. Some genres are more popular than others. In fact, some marketing gurus would have you write in a popular genre even if your muse doesn’t take you in that direction. Unfortunately, the genre in which the majority of my books fall, cozy mystery, is fighting for survival. As long as I continue to refuse to follow popular trends (if I read one more book about a stepbrother…), I will have to accept that selling books will be more difficult for me.
Marketing Efforts. Like many self-published authors, I thought I could just click publish and violá! my books would sell. It didn’t actually turn out that way. After a few books, I started getting better at marketing efforts, but I continue to go through phases with marketing. Sometimes I’m all gung ho – writing guest posts, signing up for promotions, begging for reviews, you name it. But that takes time and effort and isn’t nearly as much fun as screaming at my manuscript. I need to commit myself to continuously working on marketing my books in order to sell them. That’s all there is to it.
Author Platform. Another area in which I thought minimum efforts would have maximum results. I have a Twitter account, Facebook author page, and blog. Why aren’t I selling tons of books to my followers? It doesn’t exactly work like that. *Sticks out bottom lip in pout* There isn’t a direct link between a strong author platform and book sales, but there is a link. Just like with marketing you need to consistently maintain your author platform. And ‘consistent’ isn’t one of my favorite words. In fact, until recently, it wasn’t in my vocabulary.
Just plain luck. This is the reason I’m sure most of us would like to blame for not selling books. Other writers have had good luck whereas we’ve been unlucky. And sure, there’s always an element of luck in which books sell more than others. But blaming lackluster sales on bad luck is going to get you nowhere. Nowhere. So, accept that and then carry on.
I’m sure there are more reasons my books haven’t hit the bestseller lists – yet. And maybe there’s nothing I can do about luck or popular genres, but the other reasons – marketing efforts and author platform – I can work on and I will. Of course, I’ll keep striving to write fun books as well. That can’t hurt.
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Add a time traveling librarian to a mystery & get a fun read ~ The Temple of Indra series from @RaquelleJaxson #mystery
Temple of Indra’s Series
by Rachael Stapleton
This Librarian is Just Killing Time…Travel. Sophia Marcil loves her grandmother’s twisted tales almost as much as the sapphire ring passed down to her. Wearing it, however, could be her downfall. After slipping the jewel onto her finger she is pushed from a cliff—landing splat in the middle of 19th Century Monaco, where a killer plot to seize the throne could consume her entire future—past and present. Sophia believes she’s being forced into an eccentric millionaire’s dinner theatre but a hidden diary, a secret passage and a whispered conversation reveal to her that the role of a princess is not all fun and games. With the help of a man from outside the palace walls, Sophia undertakes a spellbinding journey straight out of a Grimm tale. Learning the gem’s secrets and the powerful curse behind it are only the beginning. With time and the constant threat of death hanging over her, she must take a page out of her own history to hunt down someone who isn’t killing by the book. Can she do it before she’s checked out for good?
Family Secrets Can Be a Real Curse. Former Librarian turned Time Traveler, Sophia Marcil is looking forward to a shiny new beginning, and that’s just what she gets when the man of her dreams proposes. Unfortunately, the ring Cullen O’Kelley slips on her finger holds a piece of the very sapphire that’s cursed her. Wrenched back to a stately home in 1920, she discovers a hidden chapter in her own family story. In an effort to re-write the past, things get foggy in a London bookshop; long-lost relative’s re-surface, and as a family gathering rapidly goes awry, Sophia ricochets back to the present. Someone close to her is a killer, and this time she’s determined to read between the lines. Her ex-boyfriend seems to be the likely character, but evidence to the contrary soon has her questioning whether she wrote the wrong guy off. With her wedding day fast approaching Sophia needs to figure out if Cullen’s love, spells death? Jewels are a girl’s best friend, unless they’re cursed, then they’re just worth killing for.
The Past Is Never Far Behind…It Also Won’t Stay Buried. The page has turned at last. Sophia Marcil’s nemesis is six feet under and she’s off to return the cursed sapphire to India, so she can settle into the next chapter of her life—a new bookshop and wedded bliss. One problem, her wedding day has come early and the wrong man stands at the altar. The mysterious temple has sent Sophia back into the past, more specifically, into the body of the soon to be murdered bride of Dunlace Castle—a place she was hired to research. Thankfully her detour into the past is brief and she returns to safety in her own time. But how safe is she? Three dead bodies and her missing groom have Sophia wondering if her time travel has changed more than the castle’s structure. To make matters worse an empty grave leads her to believe that her nemesis is alive and forcing her fiancé to time travel. Sophia is determined to dig up the truth but will it mean returning to a place she swore she’d written off? Everyone has their cross to bear and Sophia’s might just live to haunt her.
Closing the Book on the Past…Doesn’t Mean It Can’t Be Opened. Between The Mysterious Ink Spot, Sophia O’Kelly’s cozy Dublin bookshop, and her role as mother and wife, she is more apt to exchange books and banter these days than blows with a bad guy. But living in the present has its pains; and Sophia can’t help but wonder if her migraines are connected to her fate. Sixteen years ago it was foretold to her that her daughter would become a dark and powerful witch, and stealing Sophia’s ancient spell book might just be the first step in proving the grim prediction true. Looking for answers and relief from the pain, Sophia agrees to a hypnotic regression. Unfortunately for Sophia, time’s up and she finds herself manipulated, betrayed and imprisoned for witchcraft. Meanwhile, back in Ireland, Sophia’s husband and best friend uncover a painting, offer hope that Sophia could be alive. The answers lie in a fifteenth-century castle—all they have to do is navigate time to get there. Of course, they’re not the only ones searching; Sophia’s daughter is determined to tag along, and she’s leading the traitor right to them. It’s been sixteen years since Sophia O’Kelly closed the book on her past but someone wants revenge and they’re eager to open that particular volume of secrets.
About The AuthorRachael Stapleton lives in a Second Empire Victorian home with her husband and two children in Ontario, Canada and enjoys writing in the comforts of aged wood and arched dormers.
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Tour Participants
January 5 – The Self-Rescue Princess – CHARACTER INTERVIEW
January 6 – The Book’s the Thing – REVIEW, GIVEAWAY
January 7 – Books,Dreams,Life – GUEST POST, SPOTLIGHT
January 8 – Deal Sharing Aunt – INTERVIEW, GIVEAWAY
January 8 – Island Confidential – GUEST POST, SPOTLIGHT
January 9 – Readsalot – SPOTLIGHT
January 10 – T’s Stuff – INTERVIEW, SPOTLIGHT, GIVEAWAY
January 11 – Sleuth Cafe – REVIEW, CHARACTER GUEST POST, GIVEAWAY
January 12 – StoreyBook Reviews – REVIEW, GIVEAWAY
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January 14 – A Holland Reads – CHARACTER GUEST POST, SPOTLIGHT
January 15 – 3 Partners in shopping, Nana, Mommy, & Sissy, too! – SPOTLIGHT, GIVEAWAY
January 16 – Celticlady’s Reviews – SPOTLIGHT, GIVEAWAY
January 17 – Lori’s Reading Corner – CHARACTER GUEST POST, GIVEAWAY
January 18 – Polished Nails and Puppy Dog Tales – REVIEW
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January 6, 2017
Spotlight on @Matt_McAvoy author of Granjy’s Eyes and Kill the Witch! #thriller #horror #AuthorSpotlight
~ All about Matt ~
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Matt McAvoy was born in Hertfordshire in 1974. As a child he attended the Torquay Grammar School for Boys and started writing fiction at an early age. He has studied screen-writing and production, psychology, social policy and criminology, and has written several short stories, novels and screenplays, including “Kill the Witch!” and the critically acclaimed “Granjy’s Eyes”. Matt lives in London with his wife Katherine.
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Granjy’s Eyes
Genre: Drama / Thriller
Published: 2012
Synopsis:
Meet Ollie.
Well educated and spoilt – a rich kid, fun-loving party-goer and brutal sociopath. Ruthlessly arrogant Ollie takes what he wants, when he wants it, but Ollie’s going to learn, the hard way, that for every action there’s a consequence, and for every bounty, a price.
Blind old Granjy sees her grandson like no-one else can, and, most of all, sees the monster he is becoming; it was she that spoilt him rotten to the core, and now his payment is due. Ollie will tear apart his own dark soul, and Granjy will teach him new meaning of the word ‘remorse’.
Grab a copy now!
Amazon ~ iTunes ~ Barnes & Noble
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Kill the Witch!
Genre: Horror
Published: 2016
Synopsis:
A series of devastating coincidences, or a mercilessly vicious witch’s curse?
Jack doesn’t believe in coincidences. But he does believe in her, and the terrible mistake he made the day he crossed her. The day his life became a living nightmare.
But with the lines so blurred between Jack’s terrifying fairy-tale and his own mental diagnosis, can he still tell which is the true modern-day horror story, and who is the real villain? Now so deluded, so convinced of the curse, is he truly willing to go to any lengths to stop it, even if that means committing shocking and brutal murder?
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New Year, New Me! I hope. Well, let’s give it a try at least #amwriting #amreading #Resolutionsfor2017
[image error]I’m a big believer in New Year’s resolutions. I love the idea of a clean slate. Let’s just forget all those mistakes of 2016 and open the brand-spanking new agenda. There are a lot of haters who think resolutions are stupid or overdone (or maybe they’re just big fat meanies). But isn’t life about striving to be better? Even if it’s just to be happy or content with our lives. Resolutions are the perfect opportunity to reflect upon our lives. What works? What doesn’t? What changes do we want? What’s a realistic change to make? How did last year’s resolutions go? I will always struggle to be a better person even if I spend a whole lot of time failing.
Continue to blog two to three times a week . Last year’s resolution was to blog more. That didn’t always work out, but I definitely improved. I also realized my limitations. Blogging more than three times a week is just not a realistic goal if I’m working on a manuscript.
Network better . Building an author platform is a lot of work (major understatement!). I keep thinking that if I just spend an hour a week on social media networking, that will be enough. Not. I need to not only put information out into the digital landscape, but I also need to interact with others – be it by commenting on blog posts, re-tweeting a tweet, or whatever. I’d like to say I’m finally going to figure out how to use Pinterest, but I’m only human.
Market more. Yeah, no one likes to do book marketing. It’s a time suck. But if I don’t market my books, my sales to plummet to only a book or two a day and isn’t that just depressing. I’m also trying to be smarter about the marketing. In other words, don’t just throw it out into the universe and hope for the best. I also need to analyze what works and what doesn’t. It’s an ongoing and never-ending process.
Finally write that one book . I’ve had an idea about an historical romance/thriller for a few years now, but I keep shoving it to the back on my to-be-written pile (yes, that’s a thing). But now that I’m in a country where I speak the language and have a library card, I really want to get my butt moving and research enough to get this book written. I think I just have to accept that this book will take a heck of a lot longer to write than the usual three months it takes to write my romantic comedies and cozy mysteries. Still working on that, but the library is calling my name. It’s a really nice library.
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Read those books. We all have a to-be-read list that can go on for days and days. I’m in the horrible habit of just adding books to my TBR without making any effort to read books that are already on the list. Talk about a self-perpetuating problem! This year I’m going to try to spend at least an hour a day on a book in my TBR pile. I’m not sure that’s a realistic goal. I’ll let you know next year.
Commit to a healthier lifestyle . Notice I didn’t say lose a ton of weight. That’s absolutely part of it. Oh boy, is that part of it. Having spent the vast majority of my adult life, yo-yoing in weight, I know that I need to change my lifestyle in order to keep the weight off. I always manage to do that for a while and then backslide. And by backslide, I mean jumping off a cliff back into bad habits. I’m currently working on a manuscript in which the heroine goes on a health kick after her boyfriend dumps her. I’m committing myself to strictly following a healthy regime until this book is finished. Hopefully by then, I’ll have developed new habits.
What are your resolutions? How do you plan to stick to them?
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