Thursday, October 24, 2013

Release day for 5 Prince Publishing Author Christine Steendam


Available from 5 Prince Publishing
www.5princebooks.com
books@5princebooks.com
Genre: Fiction/Romance/Contemporary/Western
Release Date: October 24, 2013
Digital ISBN 13:978-1-99217-67-7  ISBN 10: 1-939217-67-9
Print ISBN 13:978-1-939217-68-4  ISBN 10: 1-939217-68-7




Unforgiving Plains:
Rayna Fields is a successful realtor in Calgary, but when she receives a visit from a lawyer, her whole life is turned upside down.

She hasn't seen or heard from her father in twenty years. Not since her mother packed her and their belongings in a truck and drove off Fieldstone Ranch. Now, she has to make her way to Foremost, Alberta, the "wild west" of Canada and deal with the dilapidated ranch that was left to her by her estranged father.

Struggling with her feelings towards her father who has passed on, a ranch in financial distress, and other problems that crop up along the way, Rayna turns to the one person willing to help; Vince, the hired hand. But will his past destroy everything she's worked towards? And will she be able to forgive, and find beauty in Alberta's wild plains?





Christine has been writing stories since she could put pen to paper and form words. Now, fifteen years later, her debut novel is scheduled to be released and her second book is in the works.
Christine has spent the better half of her life owning and working with horses, and these four legged companions often find their way into her stories. After all, no work of women’s fiction would be complete without a horse or two. ;)
She currently makes her home in the center of the world—no, really. Look at an atlas







Excerpt of Unforgiving Plains:
Rayna reached for the radio dial and turned up the music as her car flew down Red Coat Trail at 110 km per hour. She had left the mountains far behind her, and the road spanning in front had the slow rise and fall of hills that spoke of their own special majesty. To anyone else driving through Alberta, they might have been struck by the beauty, but it was lost on Rayna. Her mind was far away, preoccupied with thoughts that didn’t involve sight-seeing.
Slowing down just enough to make a turn, she directed her car onto a gravel road. Consulting the written directions on her passenger seat, Rayna saw that it was a straight shot to the ranch from here. Just a few more miles and her long journey would be over, It didn’t bring her any relief.
Driving down the gravel road brought with it no memories. Rayna didn’t really know what to expect, but she had thought there would be more than this nothingness, not even the slightest hint of sentiment or twinge of recognition. Nothing here looked familiar, and yet, this had been her home for the first five years of her life.
News of her father’s death, if he could really be called that, had come last week in the form of legal documents. Craig Fields had died at the young age of 52 from a heart attack. “Worked himself to death most likely,” was what Carol, her mother, had said. Regardless, he had left everything to Rayna, his daughter, whom he hadn’t seen or spoken to in twenty years. It had been a shock for her. Carol had just nodded and encouraged her with a slight smile. He was trying to do right by her, her mother had offered. Great time to start, thought Rayna, bitterly, as she continued driving down the gravel road that seemed to stretch on forever.
Rayna never knew what had happened between her parents. There was no love lost between them; that was certain. Her mother hadn't wasted a single tear upon hearing of her ex-husband's death. And Rayna followed her example; having lived her life without a father, she felt no loss. It might as well have been a stranger that had died for all the emotion she felt.
Now she found herself driving unfamiliar gravel roads near Foremost Alberta. She cringed as gravel pinged off her car, likely peppering the paint with little chips. A cloud of dust followed her, wafting over the rolling hills. She had driven through farmland, but now, as she entered the plains, she was in ranching territory. Wild prairie grass swayed in the light breeze and the occasional antelope bounding across the coulees lent the area an exotic air that could not be ignored. She hadn't seen much of this in the province she had grown up in. She was more familiar with the busy city of Calgary and the untamed mountains of Banff and Canmore. She suspected the Alberta plains held their own form of wildness.
Twenty years ago she had left, her mother loading her and their belongings in the truck and driving away. They never once looked back. Her mother, Carol, had always said that the people that lived here were a special breed: hard working and secluded. It wasn’t unheard of to be snowed in or to have roads washed out and be stranded on a farm or ranch for weeks at a time. But they were happy, content with life. Watching the passing scenery Rayna wondered if it had been the land that her mother had run from in all its beauty and hidden trials.
Rayna slowed her car down at the sight of a weather beaten sign swaying on its arch. The words Fieldstone Ranch could barely be made out. "I hope that's not an indication of the shape the rest of the place is in," she mumbled under her breath.
Fenced in pasture bordered the driveway that had no visible end, but after cresting a couple coulees the house could be seen on the next ridge. Horses grazed at the bottom of a valley and a wide, lazy stream flowed through the middle.
Despite the gravel dust cloud that chased her, Rayna couldn't help but feel awe over the beauty of her father's property.
Pulling into the yard, it became apparent that the sign at the entrance to the ranch was an accurate warning to the shape of the rest of the property. The paint on the white clapboard house was peeling and she could see where the sunbaked shingles were peeling back. The barn wasn't in any better shape; boards were loose and falling off and the door hung at an angle, attesting to the fact it wouldn't close. Any beauty she had thought she had seen was gone. Now all she saw was a rundown home that held very little worth. And to top it all off, it was now her problem.
Rayna parked the car and stepped out. The air was crisp and clean here despite the early summer heat, and the chirping birds made relaxing background music. The sound of her car door slamming announced her arrival, and a dog ran out from behind the barn, barking and jumping.
“Down!” shouted Rayna, moving away from the dirty animal’s bounding paws.
The dog seemed to comply and left her alone but followed close to her feet as if to supervise while she walked across the yard. Gravel crunched beneath her heels as she walked towards the house, and not for the first time, she wished she had worn more comfortable shoes, but she had come straight from work and hadn’t thought to change.
She hesitantly opened the door. It squealed loudly in protest on rusty hinges and made Rayna shiver despite the warm weather. Stepping in, she looked around. The house was in good repair inside, but it was messy. Dust could be seen floating in the sunbeams, layering the windowsills and every other unused surface. Dirty dishes filled the kitchen sink and mail lay strewn across the kitchen table. Rustic oak floors had muddy paw and boot prints and various food spills. It was a typical bachelor’s residence.
Rayna wandered around the small house, trailing her hand across surfaces, picking up dust on her fingertips. She tried to remember something about this place that had once been her home, anything, but she might have well been walking these floors for the first time.
Opening doors, she peered into two bedrooms and a tiny bathroom. It would take a lot of repairs and a little seller’s flare. Something like, “a quaint country home with lots of character.” It sounded nice, but basically meant it was a dump.
Rayna walked back to the kitchen and put a kettle of water on the stove to boil. She’d need to look around a bit more, get a feel for the place, but she needed a break first. Searching through the cupboards she managed to find a clean mug and some dusty tea bags with no label.
Mystery tea, lovely, she thought, a wry smile lighting her face in an attempt to stay positive. At least the sparse cupboards meant she wouldn’t have to pack up much.
The kettle whistled, sounding like a sick, dying bird.
Pouring the boiling water over her mystery tea bag, Rayna took her mug and sat at the kitchen table. Who was this man who had abandoned her? And why had he left all his earthly possessions to her? Perhaps it was out of guilt, or there really was no one else to give it to. She knew nothing of her father; he could have been a hermit for all she knew. A small part of her had thought that he might have re-married and had more kids which was why he had stayed out of her life, but all the evidence said otherwise.
“What are you doing here?” boomed a voice from behind her.
Rayna jolted, rudely ripped from her thoughts, surprised that someone else was here. The sudden movement caused her to tip over her mug, spilling hot tea all over her lap. She jumped up, shrieking in surprise and pain, trying to brush the burning liquid off with no success.
As suddenly as the burning sensation had begun it was gone and replaced with the cold wet of water. Rayna stood still, in shock, water dripping from her shirt and skirt. She looked up at the man who seemed to have lost all anger and now wore a concerned look on his face.  An empty bowl hung uselessly from his hand. Recovering from her shock, Rayna glared at the man. “What is your problem?” she shouted. “Sneaking up on me and then throwing water all over me?”
The man grinned and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here.”
“Who are you and what are you doing here? This is my property.”
“So you’re the daughter.” Understanding lit his eyes. Pulling off an old, weather beaten leather glove, he extended his hand. Rayna gingerly accepted it, feeling his firm grip and rough skin chafe against her own.
“The name is Vince. I’m the hired hand.”
“Rayna. I suppose I should thank you for sticking around and keeping things in order for me.”
Vince smiled and Rayna knew the bitterness in her voice had not gone unnoticed. “I’m not looking for any thanks, just doing my job. How about you get something dry on and I give you a tour of your new place? And I’d put on some more comfortable shoes if I were you.”
Rayna grimaced, she had come here to see the place, but she didn’t really want to go with this cowboy. “I left all my things at my hotel in town. I had no intention of staying here,” she said, looking for an excuse.
“Well then, perhaps we can rustle something up, if you’re interested in the tour, that is.”
He just wasn’t letting it go. Couldn’t he take a hint? “How about I come back tomorrow morning? I’m a bit tired from the drive up.”
“Fair enough.”
Rayna forced a smile, glad he had let it go, and walked past Vince and out the door. He turned to follow her, jogging past to open the car door. Great, a gentleman. Just what she needed.
Crouching in, she fastened her seat belt and looked up at the dirty man leaning on the door of her Audi.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
Vince nodded and stood up. “Drive safe,” he said as he shut the door.
Rayna whipped her car around, eager to be gone from the ranch and all the questions that came with it. She’d be more than happy to sell the place and be done with it, forever erasing her father from her life.
Arriving back in the town of Foremost a half hour later, she parked her car outside the small motel and retreated to her room.
It was clean, that much could be said, but other than that it was a cheap motel room and nothing more. Rayna wasn’t exactly thrilled about staying here for the week or two it would take to set her father’s affairs in order, but in a small town like Foremost, there weren’t exactly a lot of options.
Changing out of her damp clothes, she jumped into the shower to wash off the layer of gravel dust that seemed to suck all the moisture from her skin.
It wasn’t late, but Rayna was exhausted. She had worked all morning and part of the afternoon before making the four hour drive out here. But, as much as she wanted to fall into bed, she needed to find something to eat. The hotel had a small bar attached and feeling inclined to stay close to home, Rayna decided it was a good enough option.
Slipping on some clean, dry clothes, she walked around the outside of the building to the front where she entered the dimly lit bar.
It was a lot fuller than she expected for seven or so in the evening, but there was likely no better place to go once the day’s work was done. Her short drive through town certainly hadn’t shown any evidence of anything better.
Finding a seat in a far booth in an attempt to avoid human contact, Rayna waited for a server to appear.
A bubbly blonde with a swaying ponytail came over. She handed Rayna a menu with a broad smile. 
“Will anyone be joining you?” she asked.
Rayna shook her head. “It’s just me.”
“Well then, can I get you something to drink?”
Rayna perused the drink menu for a moment. “I’ll have a glass of the chardonnay and a chicken burger.”
“Sure thing. Fries or Caesar on the side?”
“Caesar.”
“I’ll be right out with that then.”
The waitress walked away, Rayna watching her as she stopped and greeted a table full of boys, likely friends of hers.
Rayna sighed and wished the waitress had offered her water to start. Anything to quench her dry throat. There was no moisture here. Everything felt dusty. Even her skin was starting to feel too small for her body, only adding to her feelings of discomfort, and she’d only been in the ass end of Alberta for a few hours.
It took a good ten minutes to get her wine and the waitress promised again that she’d be right out with her food. Rayna smiled and nodded, but didn’t put much faith in the waitress’ promise. In her experience bar food was never fast.
By the time her burger came, Rayna had finished her wine and just about used up her last drop of patience. She hated this little town more and more with every passing minute. Already it felt like she had been here two hours too long.
“Anything else I can get you?”
Rayna was tempted to get another glass of wine but the thought of delaying her acquaintance with the motel bed had her shaking her head. “No thanks.”
Finishing off her burger and grudgingly admitting to herself that it was actually quite good, she settled her bill and headed back to her room.


Rayna lay in bed, attempting to drift off to sleep, but despite her exhaustion, she was plagued with thoughts of her father’s ranch. How would she stage it? What could she ask for it? She had no real idea what ranches were worth or what the market was for them. And what would she do with the cattle? Did she sell them with the property? Horses? So many questions, some of which she hoped Vince could answer. But that was tomorrow, and tonight the only answer she needed was the one to her prayer for sleep.

Monday, October 21, 2013

Monday Marketing: Let's Talk Free Books

There is no doubt that if you are reading this blog you have noticed that there is a HUGE market right now for free eBooks. An author has taken months of their time and encompassed their talent to write a book...and they are giving it away. Yep, that's what you're seeing and I am one of those guilty parties.

The Executive's Decision went free in November of 2011. Why did I do that with my best book to date? Why would I put a book out there with only one other book in the series out? Why not? I saw the trend. I needed an audience. What was a few day?

Um...everything has its lessons! IF you make your book free on Smashwords toward the end of the week and your book is in their premium catalog it will be sent out to the many distribution sites that use Smashwords. What that means is your book, which was free on Smashwords, will now be free on many many many more sites! (BTW this is not the good part of my story...this is the part where I went, OMG!!!)

Panic. Backtrack. I had only hoped for a few days after Thanksgiving. C'mon, I had a plan. Now my book is out there for free everywhere. But wait. Its now on bestsellers lists on little sites. Okay, okay, I got it fixed back to paid, but now that so many free copies have gone out the second book is starting to sell like mad! Oh look, even not on free now the book is selling in paid bestseller status. WHAT IS THAT? I got my third book in the series up in time to do a presale and it has gone bestseller in presale? Oh yes, that is what happened.

So now I have bestseller status. I have ten emails a day coming in asking when the next book is going to be out.

Hmmm, maybe free will keep selling everything else.

So I bite the bullet. The Executive's Decision has gone free, perma free. Amazon has picked it up as a free matched book. Awesome! And so begins all the sales of the other books.

Will this happen on every free book? No. And the reason is it still has to be a good book. I have thousands (yep, I said thousands) of reviews. Some hate it. Free books are raked over the coals. Be prepared for that. Again, if you've read my blog you know I don't read reviews. But readers do and even the horrible ones make someone want to read it just for the "is it that bad" factor. And for free, what do they have to lose. But a bad book is a bad book and it will not move other books. So don't just write something you'd only give for free. Make sure it is of "sale" quality.

Do I recommend if you're just starting out to do this? Yes and no. This is what I mean.

Do Not spend all your time writing a free book. Amass a collection. If you're writing a series, when you have a few under your belt, give away book one.

If your free book is your only book you're doing yourself a disservice. The point is to drive business to the next books.

How about short stories or novellas? Yes this can work, but again, the focus is on a free book to hook readers to the author so they will buy more. Make sure you have something to back it up.

How about that Kindle Prime days offer or Book Bub? Use the tools you can. I don't like making my books exclusive to Kindle. I do VERY well on iTunes directly. But, when you're playing with this the Kindle Prime is a good place to feel it out. Not only will they help boost you a bit, lots of sites have built themselves on offering free advertising or prime placement for a nominal fee for free Kindle books. If you're looking for bang for your buck...go Book Bub. Be aware they have some strict rules. You have to have so many reviews and such and they don't take everyone. But if you're lucky enough to be picked up you will see your numbers soar! (A run can cost from $20 to $600, be prepared.)

Free books. I say it is a win win situation for the self-pubbed (or small/independent published.) Free still needs to mean quality and it means a lot of promotional work. But if you have more books, your writing is consistent, and you can handle some critics...then it just might be the way to go.

And just a note. The Executive's decision is still free after all this time. I have 14 books out currently and it helps to open the door to all of those sales. During my BookBub days I had over 100,000 downloads on my first run and over 60,000 on my second (and it trickles down.) So do you have a book--I mean a few? Give it a try. You might not have to work for free after all.

Friday, October 18, 2013

Author Spotlight/Interview with Jennifer Slater

Today I am pleased to introduce you all to author Jennifer Slater. 

Jennifer Slater was born in Guyana, a small, English speaking country in South America. She migrated to the United States with her parents and eight siblings when she was 14 years old.  Jennifer has lived in Florida, New York and Arizona, but currently resides in Austin, Texas with her husband of 20 years, two teenage children and two dogs. As a child, she always had her nose in a book and her desire to write a novel someday grew with each book that she read. The most positive indication that she did actually have some writing talent came when she received the highly coveted and hard to come by, "A", in her creative writing class from Oscar Hijuelos, the Pulitzer Prize winning author of "The Mambo Kings Play Songs of Love", who was her professor at Hofstra University at the time.


What is your favorite thing about being a writer? The ability to invent characters who can evoke a multitude of emotions in my readers. When a reader told me that she wanted to drop kick the villainess in my first book, when another told me that she was rooting for the heroine throughout my second one, and when others told me that they were pleased with the happy endings in both of my books - then I know that I've accomplished what I set out to do.

What genre(s) do you write? Contemporary Romantic Fiction
 
Are you a plotter or a pantser? Definitely a pantser. I start writing with only a vague idea of what I want the story to be about. I don’t do outlines or any kind of plotting ahead of time. Once I get past the first 2 chapters, I usually have a better sense of where I want to go with it and that’s usually when the ideas really start to flow. Once I’m in my groove, I eat, sleep and drink my writing.

Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp? Definitely. In "A Time for Us", the message is to never give up on love and that second chances are possible. In "Dark Clouds, Silver Linings", I wanted to convey to women, especially young women, the need to believe in themselves, and that no matter how bad things may seem, it is always darkest before the dawn.
 
 
What books or authors have most influenced your life? Jane Austen - "Pride and Prejudice". I admire the intellect and strength of her heroine, Elizabeth Bennett, and I have modeled my female lead characters after her. I'm also a huge fan of Maeve Binchy - I love all of her books. She wrote about every day people and every day life in the small towns of Ireland, but she wrote with such wit and warmth that I was instantly drawn to her characters. It is because of her that I've chosen to make my books more about the intricacies of relationships, rather than just about romance.
 
 
Please tell us 5 miscellaneous facts about yourself.
I have 4 brothers and 3 sisters.

I was painfully shy as a child.
 
When I was a young girl, I had the biggest crush on John Travolta.
 
I wanted to be a teacher.
 
My favorite breakfast meal is a scone with a cup of coffee.

Please share with us your future projects and upcoming releases. I have several projects that I'm working on. My main focus now is to complete the  Christmas themed novella that I started a few weeks ago. After that, I hope to try my hand at writing a western, with a romantic twist. I absolutely loved "The Virginian" by Owen Wister and would love to invent a character as compelling as his hero was.
 
Please share any links you would like listed in the Interview. Website, Myspace, blog, facebook, yahoo group etc.
 
Readers can find my books here:
 
Dark Clouds, Silver Linings:
 
 

DARK CLOUDS, SILVER LININGS

Sixteen year old Samantha Leighton’s forearm has become the diary of her woes. The once bubbly, energetic teenager has resorted to self-mutilation to cope with the pain stemming from a multitude of hardships that have befallen her. First, she loses her father in a car accident and then her mother becomes addicted to prescription pills and lives in a perpetual state of altered reality. The young girl’s life becomes even more complicated when she and her mother are forced to move in with an abusive uncle who is bent on making her life miserable.
When Sam ends up in the hospital after a cutting incident that leaves her emotionally and physically weak, she meets twenty-six year old Angela D’Abrue whose idyllic life is turned upside down when her boyfriend abandons her to seek fame on the road with his band. The two women form an unlikely friendship that neither one of them expects to last beyond their short stay in the hospital.
The friends are reunited a couple of months later when Samantha turns to Angela for help after fleeing her uncle’s home. An astute observation by her young friend forces Angie to rethink her friendship with her best friend, Michael, and she embarks on a journey of self-discovery that leads her to find love in the arms of the one man whose friendship and affection she had taken for granted for so long.
While Samantha works on regaining her confidence and her enjoyment of life, Angie faces her biggest challenge when her ex-boyfriend returns. As both friends reach important crossroads in their lives, they learn that kindness can come from the most unexpected places and that no matter how dismal their lives may get, the promise of sunshine is just behind every dark cloud.

A Time for Us

When Alex Hamilton first saw Fallon Russo, he knew that she was the girl for him. A one night stand with the conniving Lisa, however, changes his life forever. He loses the woman he loves and is trapped in a loveless, miserable marriage … until fate brings Fallon back into his life. Eighteen years have passed, but the attraction between Alex and Fallon is still strong. Can the two former sweethearts get a second chance at happiness or will Lisa's schemes and manipulations keep them apart forever?


Excerpt from A Time for Us
1988
***
Chapter One

Alex sipped his beer slowly as he looked around the crowded night club. The music pumped loudly from the overhead speakers and the strobe lights spun colorfully, bathing everyone on the dance floor in a rainbow of festive colors. His friends were engaged in a beer chugging competition and were nosily egging each other on. His gazed rested on a lovely brunette sitting in the corner of the bar surrounded by a bevy of beauties. She tucked her long, wavy hair behind her ear as she laughed at something one of her friends was saying to her. Alex had noticed her from the moment she walked in with her friends and hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of her since. He had been trying, for the past twenty minutes, to summon up enough courage to approach her.
“Go over there and introduce yourself already.” His friend Steve broke away from the other guys and slapped Alex playfully on the back. “You’re wasting precious time standing here doing nothing, my young grasshopper.”
“I don’t know man, she’s with her posse and you know how humiliating it is to be shot down in front of a bunch of other girls.”
“Don’t be such a wuss; I saw her sneaking a peek at you every now and again. I think it is safe to say that the attraction is mutual. Her friends are pretty hot too. I kinda like that blonde one myself.”
“So why don’t you go over there, then?” Alex asked.
“Hell no! The last time I tried to pick up a girl at a club, she threw her glass of wine in my face.”
“I think the fact that you asked her if she wanted to do the horizontal mambo may have had something to do with it.”
“Dude, I was buzzed that night.” Steve threw his hands up in mock protest. “It was the alcohol talking, not me.”
“Well remind me never to take any pointers from you or to use any of your cheesy pick up lines,” Alex laughed. He paused for a moment and then took a deep breath, “Okay, it’s now or never.”


Friday, October 11, 2013

Author Spotlight/Interview with Amber Mosby

Today I am happy to have on my blog, author Amber Mosby.

Amber Mosby
Amber Mosby was born in Forrest City AR. She has one younger sister. She moved to southern California with her mother and sister when she was 14 years old. She then spent her days moving around the area until she settled to San Francisco for college.

She has two degrees from San Francisco State University in psychology and photojournalism and she has high hopes of someday having a photo spread in National Geographic.


At this time she has no children and no pets but has plans to get a pot bellied pig which will be named P-ROK.



What is your favorite thing about being a writer?
My absolute favorite thing about being a writer is the challenge of storytelling. You get all these ideas and images in your head and it’s up to you to show other people what you see via your words. The details become so important; the inflection in someone’s tone, the menacing way a person might be standing. They reader can’t see any of that unless you (the author) tell the story right. I love the challenge!

What was the hardest part of writing your book?
The hardest part of writing a book for me is knowing when to end it. I could go on and on with the story but I hate it when something gets dragged to death. I often worry that I should have added just a little more to make the story better.

How long have you been a writer?
I’ve been writing short stories and essays since I was 6 years old. I wrote my first novel Lyons’ Girl when I was 16 and I still write regularly. I am working on three new projects at this time including a trilogy and what could turn out to be a graphic novel 

What other careers have you had?
I have a degree in psychology and a degree in photojournalism so I have had all kinds of careers. I am getting a Master’s in Education at this time. Teaching and tutoring is something I have done for years as well as freelance photography when I’m not writing.

Where are you from?
I was born in the great state of Arkansas and spent most of my youth living in the southern states. After Arkansas, it was Tennessee, then Georgia, and Kentucky before we finally moved to California when I was 14

How can readers connect with you? 







Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Author Spotlight/Interview with Samantha Holt

Today I am interviewing Bestselling Midevil author Samantha Holt.


What is your favorite thing about being a writer?
 Becoming lost in another world and having an excuse for not having changed out of my pajamas!

Are you a plotter or a pantser?
 I always said I was a pantser but I came to a complete standstill with my latest book and plotted it out. It was a revelation! I can’t say I’ll do it all the time but I imagine it will come in handy if I ever get lost again.

Why do you think people should choose your books over another author?
 I’m a stickler for historical accuracy, though my focus always remains on the story. I hope people will learn something of the period from my books. I’ve had reviewers say they became lost in my world and that is what I always strive to achieve. I’m always thrilled to hear that.

Has your life changed significantly since becoming a published writer?
Yes! I burn a lot more dinners. I am a control freak at heart but embracing writing as a career has meant I’ve become less focused. I don’t know if this is a good thing or not! At dinner time, maybe not, but I think I’m a little more laid back which I think my children appreciate.

Please tell us 5 miscellaneous facts about yourself.

My twins are the first set in our family.
I trained to be a nurse.
I’m not very good at being romantic.
I hate ice cream.
I love heavy rock music.

Where can readers find you?





Alana sets eyes on Morgann for the first time in several years and what does he do? He captures her! But Alana refuses to go meekly with the sexy Highland warrior. Her kidnapping will reignite the rift that’s existed between the two clans since her father accused Morgann of theft and she doesn’t want to see her father harmed in the inevitable war that will ensue.

Unfortunately for Alana, the faeries seek to interfere with her plans to escape. The sidhe have a debt to repay and Tèile, the green faery, is determined to mend the rift between the clans for good. And that means ensuring Alana and Morgann marry.

Morgann has his own reasons for taking Alana and they are nothing to do with marriage or war. He wants to use her to reveal a secret from the past, the one that had him accused of theft. If only he didn’t find his childhood friend so attractive. When circumstances force them together, Alana’s life is threatened and war is imminent. Can Morgann reveal the truth without losing Alana? And will the faery’s meddling help or hinder his cause?



Excerpt

“Will ye cease fighting me if I explain?”
“Aye.”
The hold around her hands released as he watched her closely. But she knew better than to fight him. It didn’t mean she’d stop trying to escape. Nay, she just had to choose her moment more carefully. The warrior was obviously determined to take her.
She made the mistake of holding his gaze as he made to climb off and her chest tightened. He paused and they stared at each other. Emotion simmered behind his gaze, the anger gone, and Alana couldn’t tell if the emotion was targeted at her or something else. All she knew was the feeling of having his strong weight on top of her, his gaze boring into her, stole all sensible thought and turned her into one quivering mass of sensations.
Endless moments stretched on as she waited for Morgann to look away, to break the connection, but he stared brazenly on as his gaze trailed over her face. What did he see? As she gaped up at him, the irate warrior dissolved into a flesh and blood man and she recalled how much she used to adore him. When Morgann was banished from her father’s lands, she’d been heartbroken at losing her friend, but with the blazing sensation of having him flattened against her, she remembered it wasn’t just the loss of his friendship that hurt her so. She’d always silently hoped Morgann would play a bigger role in her future.
But that didn’t change the fact he was taking her against her will and she would not go meekly, regardless of what she once felt for him. She wouldn’t put herself and her clan in danger all because they’d once been friends. If only she could ignore the sensuous pull of his lips or the darkening of his pupils as a rough finger drew a path over her cheek.


Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Author Spotlight/Interview with Nick C. Roberts

I'm happy to have with me today author Nick C. Roberts. 

Nick C. Roberts is an English author living in Helsinki. He has travelled widely, and before becoming a full-time author, taught English as a Foreign Language. He has written the suspense thriller Collision Bound and two collections of short stories, Burnt Forest, and the newly released The Glass House Killer.



      What genre(s) do you write?  
   I write suspense thrillers and suspenseful short stories.

     What do you hope readers take with them after reading one of your stories?  
Above all, I hope my readers will have been entertained – that when they’ve finished my story, they’ll feel as one does on leaving the darkness of a movie theatre and walking out onto the sunny street. I hope they’ll have got to know my characters and will miss them – that they’ll have laughed or cried, or felt whatever I wanted them to feel through the arrangement of my words. I hope I possess the power to manipulate their emotions and leave them wanting more.

   What books or authors have most influenced your life?
  When I was younger, I read every book by the German author Sven Hassel. The stories vividly portrayed the reality and folly of war. Truly brilliant. More recently, I’ve read all the works of the great Joyce Carol Oates. Her beautifully crafted stories and totally unique style have certainly influenced my writing. I’ve also read many of Ruth Rendell’s books. I very much enjoy her stories set in London, where I lived and studied for five years. The main characters she portrays are often wonderfully odd and sinister. Another strong influence for me. Finally I admire the Italian writer Niccolo Ammaniti. Often seen from a child’s perspective, his observations of modern day life in Italy are fascinating.

  Are any of your characters based on real people or events?
  Yes. I enjoy people watching, and feel that I have a sharp eye for their eccentricities and foibles. I’ve lived in England, Australia, Germany and Finland, and my stories are based on some of the many and varied people I’ve come across, events I’ve witnessed, and experiences I’ve had in those very different cultures.

   When not writing, how do you relax?
  I like to read a lot! Especially before sleeping at night, I have to read. Otherwise I like to be out in the fresh air, by the sea or in the forest. Helsinki, where I live, is a beautiful harbour city, and I love to cycle or walk in all seasons (which are clearly defined here in the far north). I also enjoy the occasional visit to an Italian restaurant, or listening to music – usually John Frusciante.

Tell readers about your upcoming projects.

I’m in the early stages of writing my next full-length novel. Set in a northern English town, it’s a chilling tale of infatuation, jealousy and revenge.


Where can readers find you?



Google+:  https://plus.google.com/s/nick c roberts


Email address: robertsnickc@gmail.com
 



The Glass House Killer is a collection of thirteen new short stories, which reveal the darkness, the violence and raw emotion lurking below the surface of everyday lives. In War Vet, a serving soldier returns from Afghanistan to find things have changed in his absence. In Dead Duck, a teenage loner seeks revenge against the uncle who abused him, and in the title story, a young man abroad comes face to face with a serial killer.

Excerpt from The Glass House Killer

That evening, Pax started acting weird. We’d agreed a rendezvous point for nine o’clock, but at twenty past, feeling conspicuous with my folder, I was still waiting. Finally, looking spooked, he pulled up in his Holden. It had a fresh dent on the hood and something was rattling. He was evasive when I asked him about it – ‘just a scrape’, he said, irritably.
The next night he arrived late again, in high spirits. The car smelt of dope. It was clear he hadn’t been working. I’d made hay again, though, with six more sales.
Pax told me he’d met some guys who’d invited him to their place. He didn’t say how or where he’d found them. When we reached their remote place up the coast, it was pitch black. Pax knocked on the door. It was opened a crack by someone pointing a shotgun. My heart flipped over.
“Take it easy, man,” said Pax, “it’s only me.”
“Who’s the dude?” said a voice through the gap in the door.
“That’s Noel. He’s cool,” said Pax. The door swung open to reveal a man in his thirties, his beer gut sagging over his shorts. He was shirtless and had a full beard and headband. He put the rifle behind the door and told us to follow him.

Future Projects



  

Sunday, October 6, 2013

Monday Marketing: Let's Talk Swag: What works...what's a waste of your time

Let's Talk Swag: What works...what's a waste of your time and money?

Admit it. We love swag. We all pick it up. FREE? Oh, yeah! If you go to a convention you get a bag full of great stuff! We want it all. A bookmark. A pen. A jar lid opener...you name it. Now ask yourself, what do you do with it when you get it home?

In today's digital age business cards are, I think, almost a lost art. But don't be without one. Vistaprint definitely makes overpriced business cards a thing of the past. And that's good because you're going to collect those cards, take them back to your computer, and enter the info before throwing the cards away. However, don't ever be caught without business cards!

Bookmarks are an authors staple, but give some hard thought to them before you spend your hard earned money. How many people read paper books anymore. OH, there is a place for them. And if you have your books in stores then yes, you should have bookmarks there for them pass out when they sell physical books. They had a place in a swag bag too, but my suggestion is that even on the bookmarks give the consumer links to your eBooks, just in case.

How about those cute candies! Aren't those a nice treat when you have a swag bag? Open it up. Pop it in your mouth while you look at your loot and throw the wrapper away. Advertising dollars enjoyed and ignored as I pondered everyone else's items and had momentary enjoyment from the advertisement itself...but why keep a candy wrapper?

I'm a lover of a good sticky note pad! Now a good note pad has lots of room for me to write my note on even if it has the name of an author. But really, if the information on the pad is too big, eh, I'm not going to remember to keep it handy. Alas, I'll find it in the back of the drawer or in the trash. But done right, they will be on everything I have and probably get sent to others too.

Postcards. They're kind of like a big business card, only they don't fit in your wallet. I'll admit, I'm in the air on postcards. I think they are awesome if you have a free book, as I do, and you could sign the card and hand them out at signings. Or if you only do eBooks, this is still a great way to be personable, sign the card, and give the information on your eBook to the consumer. But, as a rule of thumb, what use is a postcard if you don't mail it? Think about making them share-able so others might mail them...maybe.

My all time favorite is a pen! Oh yes...a pen! I don't care how many pens you have you always need a pen. If you're going to invest in a pen, invest in a good one! People don't want to use a stick pen only two times to find out that Sally Smith Jones, author of Dirt is Good buys cheap pens and they are in the trash fast. They want a reliable pen they can jot down all their notes with. In my opinion this is one of your best buys!

The grocery bag. Cheesy, maybe. Useful, most assuredly. I have a big collection of these bags for my groceries and I know each bag! Why? Because everyday I use them either at the store or just hauling things from here to there in my day to day life. Another great buy.

Admit it. Whether you drink coffee or not a coffee mug is a good thing. Ceramic or travel, people like their coffee and they always need a mug. And you can go beyond that. A drink cup is as useful. As I sit here I see in my view a travel coffee mug (Okay, that one is a 5 Prince Publishing mug, but I use it everyday), I have a special drink in the cup I got from the orthodontist, and my water is in a Bellagio water bottle. Hmmmm, you can guarantee I think of those places everyday. AND when I can't quickly find the orthodontist's number I know it's on the orange cup I use everyday.

Kitchen gadgets are good too. We all use bottle openers, jar openers, chip clips...you name it.

Really, when you're thinking swag think useful. Before you spend your hard earned money--and authors know it is Hard-earned!--think of the usefulness of the item you're just going to give away. Will they enjoy it for a moment or a lifetime? Will they remember you? Now that is the key!

Happy Swag!
Bernadette Marie

For a complete list of Monday Marketing topics and their links please click here.

Bestselling Author Bernadette Marie is known for building families readers want to be part of. Her series The Keller Family has graced bestseller charts since its release in 2011, along with her other series and single title books. The married mother of five sons promises Happily Ever After always…and says she can write it, because she lives it.

When not writing, Bernadette Marie is shuffling her sons to their many events—mostly hockey—and enjoying the beautiful views of the Colorado Rocky Mountains from her front step. She is also an accomplished martial artist with a second degree black belt in Tang Soo Do.

A chronic entrepreneur, Bernadette Marie opened her own publishing house in 2011, 5 Prince Publishing, so that she could publish the books she liked to write and help make the dreams of other aspiring authors come true too.

Bernadette Marie began writing at the age of thirteen and submitted her first manuscript at sixteen. Just as any aspiring author has learned, the publishing world is full of rejection. So how does an author find readers and allies before they have a book? Self-promotion! Bernadette Marie shares her experiences in building a name for herself before her first book was ever published.


Thursday, October 3, 2013

#LaunchDay for Love Songs!!! Book 6 in the Keller Family Series

I love Keller Family Launch Days! I have the most amazing readers who just shower me in love and support! I hope you all enjoy book 6! This was a lot of fun to write, as I mentioned yesterday. And the fun today isn't over. Remember that my Book Candy TV live webcast is at 9pm EST. I'll leave the info here as well as information on Love Songs!  Enjoy!!!


###

Live On BOOK CANDY TV: Bernadette Marie

Bestselling Author Bernadette Marie is known for writing about families
readers want to be part of, and contemporary romances and that always
promise a memorable "Happily Ever After". Her series The Keller Family has
graced bestseller charts on iTunes and Amazon since its release in 2011. 

Join her for a live video chat as she shares behind the scenes looks at her
characters and discusses the release of the latest Keller Family story "Love
Songs".

We'll open the chat lines for Q&A's, and a chance for readers to win free
books and a $25 Amazon Gift Card!

DATE: OCTOBER 3, 2013
TIME: 9:00PM Eastern / 6:00PM Pacific

How to join:
- click link below
- use the guest tab (not registered users tab)
- enter your name in the guest field
- click enter button to join

*BCTV Direct Room Link
(i.e., this will take you directly to the BCTV login page) 

###


Available from 5 Prince Publishing www.5princebooks.com  books@5princebooks.com

Genre: Fiction, Romance, Contemporary
Release Date: October 3, 2013
Digital ISBN 13:978-1-939217-77-6 ISBN 10: 1-939217-77-6
Print ISBN 13:978-1-939217-78-3 ISBN 10: 1-939217-78-4

Love Songs:

Warner Wright is looking for that big break into country music, but the reputation of his ex-stepmother is getting doors slammed in his face. But when he hears the angelic voice of Clara Keller—he knows she’ll be his ticket.

When the talented Clara Keller and the sometimes awkward Warner Wright get together there is a spark even bigger than Nashville. Opportunity is going to knock on their door, but fame can be a tricky bedfellow.

Making beautiful music will be the easy part.  Facing Warner’s past might corrupt them both.



Bernadette Marie has been an avid writer since the early age of 13, when she’d fill notebook after notebook with stories that she’d share with her friends. Her journey into novel writing started the summer before eighth grade when her father gave her an old typewriter. At all times of the day and night you would find her on the back porch penning her first work, which she would continue to write for the next 22 years.
In 2007—after marriage, filling her chronic entrepreneurial needs, and having five children—Bernadette began to write seriously with the goal of being published. That year she wrote 12 books. In 2009 she was contracted for her first trilogy and the published author was born. In 2011 she (being the entrepreneur that she is) opened her own publishing house, 5 Prince Publishing, and has released her own contemporary titles. She also quickly began the process of taking on other authors in other genres.
In 2012 Bernadette Marie began to find herself on the bestsellers lists of iTunes, Amazon, and Barnes and Noble to name a few. Her office wall is lined with colorful PostIt notes with the titles of books she will be releasing in the very near future, with hope that they too will grace the bestsellers lists.
Bernadette spends most of her free time driving her kids to their many events—usually hockey. She is also an accomplished martial artist with a second degree black belt in Tang Soo Do. An avid reader, she enjoys contemporary romances with humor and happily ever afters.


@writesromance on Twitter


Excerpt of Love Songs:

Could the sun possibly be any hotter, or brighter, or…
Warner’s brakes screeched as he came to a stop at the stoplight he’d nearly run though. The glare from the hood of his Ford was blinding. The sweat on his neck was annoying. And the fact that he’d just been told he had no talent, well that was pissing him off.
He had talent. He had a butt-load of talent. Warner Wright had performed on every stage in Nashville. Oh, he’d performed with some of the biggest names when they were begging for a job.
He let out a breath. So why had he been passed up?
Oh he knew why!
The reputation of his family came long before he started trying to sell his songs. One thing about being the ex-stepson of Patricia Little, was all of Nashville knew she was trouble. And even if you were a thirty year old man, and you hadn’t had the woman in your life since your own father committed suicide when you were twelve, those things stick in the minds of some. It didn’t help that after his father’s death, she married a little bigger—a little richer—and soon she’d made it into the bed of The Ox, Harley Oxbury. The only problem was he was Nashville royalty—and married to Nashville royalty. The legend was when Christine Eaden found out about Harley and Patricia she put a shotgun to his head and threatened to dis-“member” him.
Did it matter to the world that his ex-stepmother took down one of Nashville’s icons? Oh, yeah. The Ox lost his career. Record companies didn’t want him anymore. The public didn’t want to see his shows. There wasn’t a product willing to put his name out front. Patricia Little had ruined the icon and her reputation, twenty years later, she was tarnishing his.
Perhaps he needed to change his name.
That was stupid. His name was fine. The woman was only his step mother for two years. By now the town should have forgotten the men she left in her path. Well they probably would have if she hadn’t gone on TV and done one of those reality shows where Warner’s picture was prominently displayed on her mantel as some kind of trophy of the husbands and “other’s” children she left in her wake. And hadn’t he asked the producers to take that down? Only a million times.
Well, some people were meant to be on stage and some in the behind the scenes. The guitar on the passenger seat was a reminder that he was one of them.
Although Jordan Farr, the head of Master Records, told him if he could get a voice to back up his music, maybe the world would start to see past his relation to Patricia Little. That had been the most positive feedback he’d received yet.
The light turned green and Warner eased off the clutch and onto the gas. The truck hiccupped and then picked up speed.
But in Nashville afternoon traffic, he didn’t make it far. Warner eased to a stop at the next light.
He could hear the music which the city had been built on. It poured out of the stores and the bars. But this music was closer and the voice wasn’t Carrie Underwood’s or Miranda Lambert’s. No this was fresh, sweet, original, and very close.
Warner turned his head to the right and spotted a woman in a Jeep tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. The song wasn’t one he’d heard on the radio. It wasn’t a karaoke cut either. No, she was singing to someone’s music, and she was magnificent.
She turned her head as if she might have felt his stare. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail. The aviator glasses shielding her eyes reflected his beat-up blue pickup truck.
She stopped singing and smiled. And it wasn’t just any smile. It was the kind that came with a wink, if he could have seen her eyes.
That moment nearly stopped his heart, just as her voice had. If he had her by his side then the doors of this town would open up to him.
The woman eased through the intersection and turned right at the next light.
He had to follow.
Warner checked his mirrors and quickly changed lanes. It was a close call with a Mustang, of all things, and the driver flipped him the middle finger. But he had to keep her in his sight.
He made a right, but her Jeep wasn’t on the street.
“Damn!” He smacked the steering wheel.
But just then he saw the Jeep. The woman was climbing out of it.
Warner made a U-turn, again causing a car to blare its horn at him and a driver to flip him off. The heat must be getting to everyone. They were all in such a nasty mood.
She’d parked in front of a theater and was jogging up the steps.
Warner screeched to a halt in the middle of the street and pulled his brake. The woman turned around on the steps of the theater and stopped.
He climbed across the bench seat to the passenger door and hung his head out the window.
“Hey,” he yelled like some back woods yokel.
“Hey, yourself.” She had an accent. She was native and that might be iffy. If she grew up in Nashville then she knew all about the shame of his family. But he’d let that find its own moment. This one was his.
“I’m not stalking you. I swear.”
“If you say so,” she said slowly, but she didn’t make a move toward the street and he didn’t blame her.
“I heard you singing. You’re freaking amazing.”
She laughed and her ponytail waved behind her. “I appreciate that.”
“No, really. I know what I’m talking about.” He tried to open the door, but it wasn’t going so well.
She’d taken another step toward the door. He was losing her.
“Wait. I want to talk to you.” Finally he managed the handle and nearly fell out of the truck, which he’d left running
The woman had made it to the top of the steps and gripped the knob on the front door of the theater.
“I’m not crazy. Please hear me out,” he was begging, but at least common sense had kicked in enough and he stopped moving toward her. “I’m a song writer. I’m looking for a voice.”
The woman nodded slowly, but she didn’t make any more moves to run away. That was a positive sign, wasn’t it?
“What’s your name?” she called down to him.
“Warner. Warner Wright.”
“Warner Wright the song writer? Cute.”
“No, that’s really my name.” He took one step further toward the curb. “You have an amazing voice.”
She looked at the watch on her wrist then back up at him. “You gathered that from hearing me in my truck?”
“Yes.”
Again, she nodded slowly. “Listen, I’m going to be late. If you want to come in and sit that’s fine. But I’m out of time for talking on the street.”
She opened the door to the theater and walked inside.
Warner started for the door and then the grumbling of his truck caught his attention. God, was he this desperate?
He hurried back to the truck, climbed in, and parked it down the street.

Clara locked her purse up in her aunt’s office and headed for rehearsal. The man in the street had scared the hell out of her at first, but she’d lived in Nashville her whole life. Every song writer thought they had what it took to make it big. Some of them got desperate enough to hunt down talent. But she’d never heard of this approach.
He hadn’t come inside. Perhaps he’d given up. All the same, she had her cell phone in her pocket. The theater had once been gutted by fire because of a psycho man. She didn’t care to see that repeated.
On the stage was a small ensemble waiting for her arrival. Behind them, the set to West Side Story was being repositioned for the weekend’s production.
“Thought you gave up on us,” Duke shouted from the piano. “You only have four shows left. Don’t give up now,” he laughed.
“The only reason I wouldn’t show up is because it’s too damn hot in here,” she said as she made it to the side of the stage. She walked up the stairs and joined the others.
Duke gave her a nod. “Let’s just take it from the top and work the songs. Arianna wants these last four shows to be sharp.”
They had only started the first song when the door opened and Warner walked into the theater. Why she thought he might be a threat she didn’t know because looking at him now she thought he looked like the biggest nerd she’d ever seen.
His jeans were worn, his shirt was untucked, and his thick blond hair was messed up something awful. More than likely he’d been driving all day with his windows down.
He’d helped himself to a seat in the back and just listened as they practiced. Well, she thought, if he liked what he heard in the car wait till he heard her sing as Maria.

Warner wondered how long he’d sat in that theater, alone. He was familiar with the musical—very familiar. They’d just finished the number Somewhere. Damn, he’d listened to nearly the entire musical. But that voice. She had the goods!
“She’s something, huh?”
Warner jumped in his seat and looked at the man next to him. Quickly he got to his feet. “Um, yes. She’s amazing.”
“That’s my niece.”
“She has a fantastic voice.” Warner turned to the man and held out his hand. He didn’t want this man to think he was crazy. “I’m Warner Wright. I’m a song writer. I heard her sing in the street and wanted to talk to her.”
The man nodded. “John Forrester.” He turned and looked at the woman he’d followed into the theater. “She doesn’t know you?”
“No, sir. But I’m not stalking her. I just wanted to talk to her about singing.”
John nodded slowly again and pulled his hand back. “She’s trained with a gun.”
Warner swallowed hard. “Most women in Tennessee are, sir.”
That made John laugh. “True enough.” He patted Warner on the shoulder. “She’s almost through.”
He gave him a smile and then looked toward the stage and gave his niece a glance. A million words were said between them in that moment, he wondered what they were.
Warner sat back down in his seat and listened as they finished the rest of the show.
To say he was moved would be an understatement. A piano and a dozen voices could do amazing things.
When the group stood up they all began to talk. This was a family, a musical family. One brought together by a common love and the current show they produced together.
It had been years since Warner was in musical theater, but you never forgot the feeling.
The woman he’d followed walked away from the group and was headed toward him. Her thumbs were tucked into the front pockets of her cutoff jeans.
The eyes that had hid behind the shiny aviators, which were now hung from the front of her tank top, were dark brown.
Warner quickly stood.
“You followed me all the way in here and listened to rehearsal?” Her accent was drawn out.
“Yes. I have to say, you’re amazing.”
The woman nodded slowly, just as her uncle had done. “You’ve said that, but thank you.” She looked down at her bare toes in the sandals she wore and wiggled them. The middle ones had rings on them. “Is that all you wanted to tell me?”
“Yes. No. I—is there somewhere we can talk?”
She looked around. “What’s wrong with here?”
“Right. Listen, I’m a song writer and I’m looking for a voice to demo my work.”
“And you’re looking for lessons?”
Warner raked his fingers through his hair. It was getting much too long. He looked down at his attire. God, she must think I’m a hobo.
“No. I’m not looking for lessons. I’m looking for someone to do the vocals.”
“And you want me to do that?”
He smiled. Finally they were on the same page. “Yes.”
“I see. Mr. Wright, I’m very busy with the theater right now. I just don’t…”
“Would you just look at them?” He was so desperate he was hunting down strangers to sing his songs. This was embarrassing. “Please. Maybe just a few hours with me and you could see what you think.”
“You don’t even know my name.”
He dropped his shoulders. He was desperate.
He held out his hand to shake hers. “Again, I’m Warner Wright.”
She smiled and took his hand. Her grip was firm. There was no messing around with this one. “Clara Keller.”
“Ms. Keller, I would appreciate a moment of your time to show you my work.”
She pulled her hand back, tucked it into her back pocket and gave him a regarding look.
“Do you know where the Riverside Building is?”
He raised his eyebrow. “Doesn’t everyone? This is Nashville.”
She chuckled. “There is a Starbucks on the main floor. I’ll meet you there tomorrow at ten.”
“Tomorrow at ten. Starbucks. Riverside Building.”
“Will that work?”
He nodded. “Thank you. Can I take you out for a drink tonight? No business, just get to know you?”
Clara pulled her phone out of her back pocket. “Thanks, but I have one guilty pleasure and its on TV tonight.”
A bead of sweat rolled down the back of his neck. He forced a smile. “What might that be?”
“Reality TV at its worst. Every heard of Nashville Ex-wives Club?”
He knew the blood had just drained out of his head. Damn if he fainted this would be over.
“I’ve heard of it.”
“Never miss a one. That Little woman is such trash she makes me laugh. But I’ll see you tomorrow. Ten.”
He only nodded as Clara left the theater.
Well, this was over. Once Clara found out about his connection with Patricia Little she too would exit stage left.
Warner left the theater just in time to see a tow truck drive away with his pickup.
It was official—Nashville hated him.