Like most readers one of the key factors in capturing my interest is the book cover and the book title. Often as I'm sitting around a title will spring to mind and from that a story starts to develop. With current technology looking up books is easy. Yesterday the title "Darkest Hour" came to me. Immediately a story started to develop, but I wondered if there were other books out there titled Darkest Hour.
Amazon's database gives me instant access to researching titles so I went there and found that yes, there were actually several books with the title Darkest Hour.
This piqued my curiosity so I looked up my own books. With the exception of the addition of A Jacody Ives Mystery there were several books titled The Gifts and several titled or using the words Sacred Secrets in their title. I was a little disappointed. Not in my titles but in the fact that I had failed to do this research prior to naming my novels.
From there my curiosity led me to other research of famous authors and their book titles. I found that many of them had also used titles that were common in the book field and used by several other authors. All except one. Stephen King. I actually found that Mr. King had more unique titles than all the other authors I researched.
Why is this important? It may not be a matter of major importance. In fact, picking a book with a similar title may actually direct readers to your book when they're looking for one by another author. That could lead to sales. The piggyback effect.
For me though it was a matter of importance. I don't really want to piggyback on someone else's success. I want to develop my own. A unique set of books with unique titles and unique readers. With the vast amount of books being published daily is that possible? I doubt it, but with the vast databases at my fingertips I will definitely try to pick unique titles in the future. I can't guarantee that someone won't publish a book after mine with the same title, but hopefully I can assure that mine is the first. That too may be a difficult task as the book title depends on the book.
Is your book title unique?
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author ~ ~ ~ writing and streams of consciousness
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Sunday, December 26, 2010
A WIP - Sample Sunday
I love writing, and find myself constantly battling the voices in my head. Characters with stories to be told--voices to be heard. My first sample Sunday was the prologue to this book so I decided to post Chapter One this week. This is my first attempt at a legal thriller. Last week I posted Chapter One of Passing Judgment. I hope you enjoy the samples. If you love mysteries that keep you guessing all the way to the end, check out The Jacody Ives Mysteries - still available on Amazon Kindle to 99 cents. Happy Holidays.
CHAPTER ONE
Michael Elkins took his gaze from the jury for just a moment to admire the beautiful young woman delivering a scathing closing argument. His former client was referred to as an unholy animal who had butchered and reveled in the death of a homeless immigrant. Her blue eyes flashed, as condemning words were delivered with precision. She didn’t flutter or wave her hands at exhibits. Instead she gripped them as weapons, walking slowly in front of each juror as she met their eyes, dropped her voice, making it soft, senuous. “This was someone’s son. Someone’s father. Someone’s best friend.”
The jurors averted their eyes from the gory picture.
Michael drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he grinned, remembering how those same hands had earlier that morning roamed his body, finding places that delighted them both. There was nothing stiff about Cassie, in or out of the courtroom. She lived for passion whether it was prosecuting a scumbag like Mark Trevello, or making love. He didn’t need to stay to hear the jury’s verdict. Trevello had lost the second she dropped her voice, whispered those soft words “. . .someone’s son. . .someone’s father. . . someone’s best friend.”
Shrugging his shoulders he met the gaze of Scott Harman, the young attorney that had taken his place on the case when Cassie was assigned as prosecutor. Their relationship wasn’t exactly public knowledge, but there was no way he would risk her career or his own for a lowlife like Trevello. He’d known Trevello was guilty from the first time he talked to him. He hated the loss for Scott, but he would be hard pressed to conceal his pride in Cassie.
Rising he caught her eye as she returned to prosecutor’s table to wait for Judge Moyer to deliver the jury instructions, and then the wait for the verdict. He caught the subtle wink, slight lifting of the corner’s of her mouth as her tongue flicked out for less than a second, a promise of things to come.
Michael raised his hand, running his fingers through the thick blonde hair, a silent salute as he headed for the courtroom door to answer the cell phone that had been vibrating incessantly for more than five minutes.
He cleared security, heading for fresh air and a much needed cigarette before he returned the call. The Honorable William Jefferson Elkins had summoned—six times. He wasn’t going to be happy about Michael’s refusal to answer the phone, even if he had been in court. Lighting the cigarette he took a deep drag and scowled. His father hadn’t called him in over six months, and now he’d called six times in the space of a half hour. Hitting the redial button he threw the unfinished cigarette into the street.
“Hello.”
“Maria, it’s Michael. My father has been trying to reach me.”
The silence on the phone was deafening. Michael felt the first tremors of foreboding.
“Hold please.” The words were whispered, an underlying note of compassion, pain.
“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you for hours.” Judge Elkins bellowed into the receiver.
“I’ve been in court, dad.” Michael didn’t bother to correct him that it had only been a half hour. No one ever corrected Judge Elkins. At least no one that still had a bar license.
“There’s been an accident.” Anger still riddled the old man’s voice. “Your mother’s dead.”
CHAPTER ONE
Michael Elkins took his gaze from the jury for just a moment to admire the beautiful young woman delivering a scathing closing argument. His former client was referred to as an unholy animal who had butchered and reveled in the death of a homeless immigrant. Her blue eyes flashed, as condemning words were delivered with precision. She didn’t flutter or wave her hands at exhibits. Instead she gripped them as weapons, walking slowly in front of each juror as she met their eyes, dropped her voice, making it soft, senuous. “This was someone’s son. Someone’s father. Someone’s best friend.”
The jurors averted their eyes from the gory picture.
Michael drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he grinned, remembering how those same hands had earlier that morning roamed his body, finding places that delighted them both. There was nothing stiff about Cassie, in or out of the courtroom. She lived for passion whether it was prosecuting a scumbag like Mark Trevello, or making love. He didn’t need to stay to hear the jury’s verdict. Trevello had lost the second she dropped her voice, whispered those soft words “. . .someone’s son. . .someone’s father. . . someone’s best friend.”
Shrugging his shoulders he met the gaze of Scott Harman, the young attorney that had taken his place on the case when Cassie was assigned as prosecutor. Their relationship wasn’t exactly public knowledge, but there was no way he would risk her career or his own for a lowlife like Trevello. He’d known Trevello was guilty from the first time he talked to him. He hated the loss for Scott, but he would be hard pressed to conceal his pride in Cassie.
Rising he caught her eye as she returned to prosecutor’s table to wait for Judge Moyer to deliver the jury instructions, and then the wait for the verdict. He caught the subtle wink, slight lifting of the corner’s of her mouth as her tongue flicked out for less than a second, a promise of things to come.
Michael raised his hand, running his fingers through the thick blonde hair, a silent salute as he headed for the courtroom door to answer the cell phone that had been vibrating incessantly for more than five minutes.
He cleared security, heading for fresh air and a much needed cigarette before he returned the call. The Honorable William Jefferson Elkins had summoned—six times. He wasn’t going to be happy about Michael’s refusal to answer the phone, even if he had been in court. Lighting the cigarette he took a deep drag and scowled. His father hadn’t called him in over six months, and now he’d called six times in the space of a half hour. Hitting the redial button he threw the unfinished cigarette into the street.
“Hello.”
“Maria, it’s Michael. My father has been trying to reach me.”
The silence on the phone was deafening. Michael felt the first tremors of foreboding.
“Hold please.” The words were whispered, an underlying note of compassion, pain.
“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you for hours.” Judge Elkins bellowed into the receiver.
“I’ve been in court, dad.” Michael didn’t bother to correct him that it had only been a half hour. No one ever corrected Judge Elkins. At least no one that still had a bar license.
“There’s been an accident.” Anger still riddled the old man’s voice. “Your mother’s dead.”
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Passing Judgment
I truly enjoyed sample Sunday last week, and decided this week to choose something a little different. One of the things I love most about being an Indie is the lack of structured rules on genres and not being bound to one specific genre. Hope you enjoy the sample.
CHAPTER ONE
“Are you gonna shoot my papa?”
The course of life can be altered by many things. Lacey St. Clair knew that more than most. Her own life had been altered many times. Given new direction. Tragic events that shaped her, molded her, allowed her to survive. In the end, it all boiled down to choices.
Lacey stilled her auto reflexes, gently removing her finger from the trigger and staring at the small child less than five feet away.
Damn Chandler, he’d told her Domaslav had no family. Someone had made a mistake. A really big one.
Lacey could hear the sounds of movement overhead. A baby’s cry. The flick of a light switch, opening of the door. Light spilled down the stairway.
“Anna?”
“Here, Papa.”
Lacey moved back into the shadows beneath the stairway. Seconds ticked by, the huge clock in the foyer the only sound in the small hallway. The child had not moved. Her eyes were huge, riveted to the gleam of cold steel. Her body trembled, but she made no sound. She’d seen guns before. Knew about death.
Lacey caught bits and pieces of whispered conversation above her. The mother’s anguished cry. Domaslav knew she was here. Knew why she was here. She could hear him hastily dressing, shushing the woman. Footsteps descended. The huge Russian stopped at the bottom of the stairs.
“I know you’re here.”
Lacey moved out of the shadows, gun held in front of her. “Keep your hands up.”
“I’m unarmed.”
Gun held firmly in her right hand, Lacey patted him down and stepped back.
“Anna, go to your mother.”
The child hesitated, but moved slowly toward the stairs, her bare feet soundless. She stopped at the bottom step, raised her head and stared into Lacey’s eyes. A single tear slid slowly down her cheek. “I love my papa.”
The words were a mere whisper, lost within the ticking clock, raspy breathing of Domaslav, but Lacey heard them. A shudder ran through her. A long forgotten memory. No sobs, no begging for her father’s life. Just a single tear from a powder blue eye. Lacey waited as the child ascended the steps. Waited for the sound of the door closing above.
“Please, do not hurt my family.”
“Turn around.”
The Russian turned slowly, hands held on top of his head. Lacey studied his face, just as she’d studied the photograph that had been given to her. She looked deep into his eyes. Faces could change. Hair. Even body shape. But the eyes were always a dead giveaway. There was no mistake. It was Domaslav. He had the same powder blue eyes as Anna. The same age-old acceptance that death was imminent. He showed no fear as he lowered himself to his knees. He obviously knew the drill. He wouldn’t beg for his life. But he would beg for the life of those he loved.
“You will not hurt my family?”
I love my papa. The words seemed to echo in the room, but Lacey knew it was all inside her head. She felt dizzy. She could still hear the baby crying, the sounds of quiet sobs above her. How long had they waited for this moment? Anna could be no more than five, and yet her eyes had reflected knowledge far beyond her years. Acceptance of this day. The death of her father neither surprised her, nor had she feared it. She had merely accepted it.
Lacey glanced around the small foyer, noting the sleeping bag just beneath the stairs. The child had not mysteriously appeared. She had been waiting for her, or someone like her. Kneeling there in the dark, watching the shadows. How many nights had Anna kept that vigil? How many morning suns had risen to find the child on her knees, murmuring a prayer of thanks for one more day.
“Please, you will not hurt my family?”
The words brought Lacey back to the present. Cleared her head. Her hands trembled slightly as she tightened the silencer into place. Dammit, she didn’t pass judgment. It wasn’t personal. Just names and faces. People who had to die. Choices. She hated choices.
“I will not hurt your family.”
Domaslav relaxed, his last words a knife that sliced into Lacey’s soul. A curse of things to come.
“Bless you.”
CHAPTER ONE
“Are you gonna shoot my papa?”
The course of life can be altered by many things. Lacey St. Clair knew that more than most. Her own life had been altered many times. Given new direction. Tragic events that shaped her, molded her, allowed her to survive. In the end, it all boiled down to choices.
Lacey stilled her auto reflexes, gently removing her finger from the trigger and staring at the small child less than five feet away.
Damn Chandler, he’d told her Domaslav had no family. Someone had made a mistake. A really big one.
Lacey could hear the sounds of movement overhead. A baby’s cry. The flick of a light switch, opening of the door. Light spilled down the stairway.
“Anna?”
“Here, Papa.”
Lacey moved back into the shadows beneath the stairway. Seconds ticked by, the huge clock in the foyer the only sound in the small hallway. The child had not moved. Her eyes were huge, riveted to the gleam of cold steel. Her body trembled, but she made no sound. She’d seen guns before. Knew about death.
Lacey caught bits and pieces of whispered conversation above her. The mother’s anguished cry. Domaslav knew she was here. Knew why she was here. She could hear him hastily dressing, shushing the woman. Footsteps descended. The huge Russian stopped at the bottom of the stairs.
“I know you’re here.”
Lacey moved out of the shadows, gun held in front of her. “Keep your hands up.”
“I’m unarmed.”
Gun held firmly in her right hand, Lacey patted him down and stepped back.
“Anna, go to your mother.”
The child hesitated, but moved slowly toward the stairs, her bare feet soundless. She stopped at the bottom step, raised her head and stared into Lacey’s eyes. A single tear slid slowly down her cheek. “I love my papa.”
The words were a mere whisper, lost within the ticking clock, raspy breathing of Domaslav, but Lacey heard them. A shudder ran through her. A long forgotten memory. No sobs, no begging for her father’s life. Just a single tear from a powder blue eye. Lacey waited as the child ascended the steps. Waited for the sound of the door closing above.
“Please, do not hurt my family.”
“Turn around.”
The Russian turned slowly, hands held on top of his head. Lacey studied his face, just as she’d studied the photograph that had been given to her. She looked deep into his eyes. Faces could change. Hair. Even body shape. But the eyes were always a dead giveaway. There was no mistake. It was Domaslav. He had the same powder blue eyes as Anna. The same age-old acceptance that death was imminent. He showed no fear as he lowered himself to his knees. He obviously knew the drill. He wouldn’t beg for his life. But he would beg for the life of those he loved.
“You will not hurt my family?”
I love my papa. The words seemed to echo in the room, but Lacey knew it was all inside her head. She felt dizzy. She could still hear the baby crying, the sounds of quiet sobs above her. How long had they waited for this moment? Anna could be no more than five, and yet her eyes had reflected knowledge far beyond her years. Acceptance of this day. The death of her father neither surprised her, nor had she feared it. She had merely accepted it.
Lacey glanced around the small foyer, noting the sleeping bag just beneath the stairs. The child had not mysteriously appeared. She had been waiting for her, or someone like her. Kneeling there in the dark, watching the shadows. How many nights had Anna kept that vigil? How many morning suns had risen to find the child on her knees, murmuring a prayer of thanks for one more day.
“Please, you will not hurt my family?”
The words brought Lacey back to the present. Cleared her head. Her hands trembled slightly as she tightened the silencer into place. Dammit, she didn’t pass judgment. It wasn’t personal. Just names and faces. People who had to die. Choices. She hated choices.
“I will not hurt your family.”
Domaslav relaxed, his last words a knife that sliced into Lacey’s soul. A curse of things to come.
“Bless you.”
Friday, December 17, 2010
Smashwords Freebie Today - The Gifts, A Jacody Ives Mystery
As a thank you for those who love to read, and love mysteries - The Gifts, A Jacody Ives Mystery is free today on Smashwords - Code EA26A. Happy Reading - and Happy Holidays.
I hope if you like The Gifts, you'll check out Sacred Secrets, A Jacody Ives Mystery - on sale at Amazon Kindle for 99 cents.
Sacred Secrets, A Jacody Ives Mystery
Want to try some other Indie Holiday Specials? Check out our:
Holiday Sale
I hope if you like The Gifts, you'll check out Sacred Secrets, A Jacody Ives Mystery - on sale at Amazon Kindle for 99 cents.
Sacred Secrets, A Jacody Ives Mystery
Want to try some other Indie Holiday Specials? Check out our:
Holiday Sale
Thursday, December 16, 2010
The True Spirit of Christmas
I remember what it was like growing up poor. Christmas wasn't always an exciting time. While others around us were excitedly talking about what wonderful presents they would be receiving, we were simply hoping for maybe a new outfit or new shoes. Maybe a new pair gloves and some candy and fruit.
Since growing up I have gone from what I would term poor to middle class. Definitely not rich, and at times a small struggle, but overall very blessed. In fact, every day of life has been a blessing, and I so thank God for our home, our children and beautiful grandchildren.
Today I had an opportunity to give back a little of what God has given me. Coby and I have sort of adopted a family in our neighborhood with three small children. We make sure they have what they need, and the kids stop in often just to talk. The parents are going through a divorce and times are really hard right now. Today I found out it was the youngest child's fourth birthday. I asked his older sister if they were having a party or anything later on. I found out that no, there was no party, no presents, and they didn't have milk or bread or a few other necessities. She normally wouldn't have told me all this, but it was her little brother's birthday and I think that opened the door.
My son and daughter-in-law where here, and we discussed this. Pooling resources we bought milk, bread, fruit, and a birthday cake and ice-cream and pizza for the family. Since I have a 3 year old grandson for whom I had already purchased Christmas, I simply wrapped those presents as birthday presents.
We stayed long enough to sing happy birthday, tears and hugs, and a small piece of cake. For just a few moments it was like the world was finally right in this house. The children were so happy. Even the older two were overjoyed at watching their little brother's smiles as he opened presents he wasn't expecting.
I know there are many others in world that have having problems as bad, or worse. And I know I can't take care of them all. I will, however, carry the memory of those joyous smiles tonight for a long time. It cost me very little, and yet gave so very much. Giving really is the true spirit of Christmas.
Happy Holidays!
Since growing up I have gone from what I would term poor to middle class. Definitely not rich, and at times a small struggle, but overall very blessed. In fact, every day of life has been a blessing, and I so thank God for our home, our children and beautiful grandchildren.
Today I had an opportunity to give back a little of what God has given me. Coby and I have sort of adopted a family in our neighborhood with three small children. We make sure they have what they need, and the kids stop in often just to talk. The parents are going through a divorce and times are really hard right now. Today I found out it was the youngest child's fourth birthday. I asked his older sister if they were having a party or anything later on. I found out that no, there was no party, no presents, and they didn't have milk or bread or a few other necessities. She normally wouldn't have told me all this, but it was her little brother's birthday and I think that opened the door.
My son and daughter-in-law where here, and we discussed this. Pooling resources we bought milk, bread, fruit, and a birthday cake and ice-cream and pizza for the family. Since I have a 3 year old grandson for whom I had already purchased Christmas, I simply wrapped those presents as birthday presents.
We stayed long enough to sing happy birthday, tears and hugs, and a small piece of cake. For just a few moments it was like the world was finally right in this house. The children were so happy. Even the older two were overjoyed at watching their little brother's smiles as he opened presents he wasn't expecting.
I know there are many others in world that have having problems as bad, or worse. And I know I can't take care of them all. I will, however, carry the memory of those joyous smiles tonight for a long time. It cost me very little, and yet gave so very much. Giving really is the true spirit of Christmas.
Happy Holidays!
Monday, December 13, 2010
Effect of FTC Regulations on Review Bloggers and Social Media Promotion
If you grew up in a small town like I did, you probably heard the term "big brother is watching you" for just about everything you did. With the availability of mass social networks and blogging, you have to wonder just how much is big brother watching you? And who else is watching?
Even scarier is the fact that we live in a very litigious world. People are willing to sue for just about anything. And even though they may ultimately lose, just fighting the battle can be expensive financially, emotionally and socially.
Most of us live and work in a world where we don't believe we're doing anything wrong, so therefore we have no need to stay abreast of every little law change in every field. This morning a friend pointed me to the FTC changes in "truth in advertising" which now affects social media and bloggers. I very rarely do reviews by request, and I post no reviews on Amazon or other book related sites, so therefore this ruling doesn't currently have a drastic affect on me - except for people I may ask to review me. It does create a greater responsibility on me as an author to watch reviews written or tags added to my books. And it may increase responsibility on businesses such as Amazon, B & N and others who allow reviews and tagging on their sites.
A hypothetical would be someone adding a huge author's name to their tags in order to direct more traffic to their book through specific searches. You may at first think no harm no foul. The viewer will immediately see the book wasn't written by the author they were looking for. However, should the viewer buy your book thinking that you have some connection to this author, or that your writing will be like their beloved author only to find out it isn't, they may perhaps notify this famous author of your use of their name, whereas the famous author or their publisher may look up your book and decide you have indeed damaged them in some way. Could they sue you? Of course they could. Would they win? Based on a case by case study the FTC may decide that you are guilty of false advertising and perhaps award them a sum. Perhaps not. I guess the question you would have to ask yourself in this endeavor is if the possibility of a few sales is worth the risk.
Another hypothetical is a review blogger that forgets to state that they received a free copy of your book in exchange for the review, or forgets to say they know you personally or you're published by the same publisher or, blah, blah, blah. The list could go on forever of little things you might simply forget to add in your blog disclaimer. So how could this be used against you? Once again it boils down to someone who doesn't like what you had to say, or perhaps you gave one book a bad review and a similar book a good review and the first author finds out that you work with the second author and yet made no mention of that in your review. Once again, it's the little things and vindictive people that will have the most influence on enforcing the FTC's rules and regulations.
Honest reviews are already difficult to come by, and this ruling may make them even more difficult--or eventually reviews may lose all credibility in the eyes of the reading public. Reviews will no long be seen as simply the opinion of the reviewer unless the reviewer states in bold letters that the review is their opinion, and can prove, if necessary, that they were not unduly influenced by something other than the product they are reviewing.
In the future should I review books I will place a disclaimer on my review for self-protection. And just like my reviews, the disclaimer will be truthful. Will that totally protect me? Not really. Not if someone decides to take a dislike to something I've said or feels there was some unseen influence on what I wrote. And it will be interesting to see if book reviewers that post to Amazon will add the disclaimer that they received the book free in exchange for their review, or that they received some other compensation in exchange for their review. Will Kirkus and Publisher's Weekly also be held to these same standards? I believe they will, and they will have to disclose their association with the publishers for whom they review. That actually may be quite interesting.
Links to the FTC sites related to this article are listed below:
FTC
FTC
FTC
Even scarier is the fact that we live in a very litigious world. People are willing to sue for just about anything. And even though they may ultimately lose, just fighting the battle can be expensive financially, emotionally and socially.
Most of us live and work in a world where we don't believe we're doing anything wrong, so therefore we have no need to stay abreast of every little law change in every field. This morning a friend pointed me to the FTC changes in "truth in advertising" which now affects social media and bloggers. I very rarely do reviews by request, and I post no reviews on Amazon or other book related sites, so therefore this ruling doesn't currently have a drastic affect on me - except for people I may ask to review me. It does create a greater responsibility on me as an author to watch reviews written or tags added to my books. And it may increase responsibility on businesses such as Amazon, B & N and others who allow reviews and tagging on their sites.
A hypothetical would be someone adding a huge author's name to their tags in order to direct more traffic to their book through specific searches. You may at first think no harm no foul. The viewer will immediately see the book wasn't written by the author they were looking for. However, should the viewer buy your book thinking that you have some connection to this author, or that your writing will be like their beloved author only to find out it isn't, they may perhaps notify this famous author of your use of their name, whereas the famous author or their publisher may look up your book and decide you have indeed damaged them in some way. Could they sue you? Of course they could. Would they win? Based on a case by case study the FTC may decide that you are guilty of false advertising and perhaps award them a sum. Perhaps not. I guess the question you would have to ask yourself in this endeavor is if the possibility of a few sales is worth the risk.
Another hypothetical is a review blogger that forgets to state that they received a free copy of your book in exchange for the review, or forgets to say they know you personally or you're published by the same publisher or, blah, blah, blah. The list could go on forever of little things you might simply forget to add in your blog disclaimer. So how could this be used against you? Once again it boils down to someone who doesn't like what you had to say, or perhaps you gave one book a bad review and a similar book a good review and the first author finds out that you work with the second author and yet made no mention of that in your review. Once again, it's the little things and vindictive people that will have the most influence on enforcing the FTC's rules and regulations.
Honest reviews are already difficult to come by, and this ruling may make them even more difficult--or eventually reviews may lose all credibility in the eyes of the reading public. Reviews will no long be seen as simply the opinion of the reviewer unless the reviewer states in bold letters that the review is their opinion, and can prove, if necessary, that they were not unduly influenced by something other than the product they are reviewing.
In the future should I review books I will place a disclaimer on my review for self-protection. And just like my reviews, the disclaimer will be truthful. Will that totally protect me? Not really. Not if someone decides to take a dislike to something I've said or feels there was some unseen influence on what I wrote. And it will be interesting to see if book reviewers that post to Amazon will add the disclaimer that they received the book free in exchange for their review, or that they received some other compensation in exchange for their review. Will Kirkus and Publisher's Weekly also be held to these same standards? I believe they will, and they will have to disclose their association with the publishers for whom they review. That actually may be quite interesting.
Links to the FTC sites related to this article are listed below:
FTC
FTC
FTC
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Sample Sunday--A work in progress
Prologue
"You look very beautiful today, Kamela."
Kamela Beaumont smiled at the woman seated across from her, studying the time-worn face, thick makeup that to all except the most perceptive eye disguised the green discoloration, subtle swelling. The son-of-a-bitch had beaten her again.
Kamela continued her assessment, the long sleeves of the Versace silk, even though the weather was blistering outside. The delicate scarf tied around her neck. Olivia Elkins was a beautiful woman, but the luster was gone from her eyes. The spark of life slowly fading.
"Kamela?"
Placing her napkin on the table, Kamela took the hands fluttering helplessly, and held them tight, her own hands trembling. Olivia had expected an answer, but perhaps not the one she was about to reveal.
"Women often look their most beautiful, Olivia, when they’re pregnant."
Kamela watched the color fade from the already pale face, the hazel eyes start, blink, and settle on her face questioning, seeking.
"Jordan and I are expecting a child."
Olivia pulled her hands away, shaking her head. “But that’s impossible. Jordan is in prison."
Kamela laughed, a soft tinkle, like delicate crystal. "Money buys many things, Olivia. It can buy private time. Even in prison."
Olivia continued to shake her head as realization slowly dawned on her. The hands stopped fluttering, but her mouth twitched, words forming slowly.
"Does he know?"
"No."
Olivia continued to nod slowly, her hands settling around the crystal water goblet, gently wiping away the condensation, like the tears on a child’s face. There had been so many tears. So much heartache.
Kamela waited until the hazel eyes met hers, clear, determined.
"What do you want me to do?"
Still she hesitated. There was just no other way. "We have to get him out, Olivia. I want my child to have a father."
"William will never allow it."
Kamela felt her anger rise, color flooding her face. "William would have no choice if you told the truth, Olivia."
Kamela immediately regretted her words as the hazel eyes misted, tears threatening to overflow.
"I tried to tell the truth."
"I know, you did, Olivia. We have to try again. Jordan only stole that gun to protect you. You know he would never hurt anyone." No one except his father, Kamela thought.
"Olivia, talk to Michael. Tell him the truth. Show him."
Olivia slowly shook her head. She had fought so hard to hide the truth from her beautiful boys. They were all that had sustained her. The only spark of joy in her world of hell. If only Jordan had not come home early that day. If only . . .
Rising slowly, Olivia wiped her hands on the napkin, folded it and placed it carefully on the table. Her lips trembled slightly as she smiled, but her hands were steady.
"I’ll talk to William."
"Olivia, no. You can’t. He’ll. . ." Kamela’s voice faltered as she watched in horrified silence as Olivia walked away from her, back straight, head held regally. ". . .kill you." She finished the sentence, her voice barely a whisper, as a cold chill enveloped her.
CHAPTER ONE
Michael Elkins took his gaze from the jury for just a moment to admire the beautiful young woman delivering a scathing closing argument. His former client was referred to as an unholy animal who had butchered and reveled in the death of a homeless immigrant. Her blue eyes flashed, as condemning words were delivered with precision. She didn’t flutter or wave her hands at exhibits. Instead she gripped them as weapons, walking slowly in front of each juror as she met their eyes, dropped her voice, making it soft, senuous. "This was someone’s son. Someone’s father. Someone’s best friend."
The jurors averted their eyes from the gory picture.
Michael drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he grinned, remembering how those same hands had earlier that morning roamed his body, finding places that delighted them both. There was nothing stiff about Cassie, in or out of the courtroom. She lived for passion whether it was prosecuting a scumbag like Mark Trevello, or making love. He didn’t need to stay to hear the jury’s verdict. Trevello had lost the second she dropped her voice, whispered those soft words ". . .someone’s son. . .someone’s father. . . someone’s best friend."
Shrugging his shoulders he met the gaze of Scott Harman, the young attorney that had taken his place on the case when Cassie was assigned as prosecutor. Their relationship wasn’t exactly public knowledge, but there was no way he would risk her career or his own for a lowlife like Trevello. He’d known Trevello was guilty from the first time he talked to him. He hated the loss for Scott, but he would be hard pressed to conceal his pride in Cassie.
Rising he caught her eye as she returned to prosecutor’s table to wait for Judge Moyer to deliver the jury instructions, and then the wait for the verdict. He caught the subtle wink, slight lifting of the corner’s of her mouth as her tongue flicked out for less than a second, a promise of things to come.
Michael raised his hand, running his fingers through the thick blonde hair, a silent salute as he headed for the courtroom door to answer the cell phone that had been vibrating incessantly for more than five minutes.
He cleared security, heading for fresh air and a much needed cigarette before he returned the call. The Honorable William Jefferson Elkins had summoned--six times. He wasn’t going to be happy about Michael’s refusal to answer the phone, even if he had been in court. Lighting the cigarette he took a deep drag and scowled. His father hadn’t called him in over six months, and now he’d called six times in the space of a half hour. Hitting the redial button he threw the unfinished cigarette into the street.
"Hello."
"Maria, it’s Michael. My father has been trying to reach me."
The silence on the phone was deafening. Michael felt the first tremors of foreboding.
"Hold please." The words were whispered, an underlying note of compassion, pain.
"Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you for hours." Judge Elkins bellowed into the receiver.
"I’ve been in court, dad." Michael didn’t bother to correct him that it had only been a half hour. No one ever corrected Judge Elkins. At least no one that still had a bar license.
"There’s been an accident." Anger still riddled the old man’s voice. "Your mother’s dead."
"You look very beautiful today, Kamela."
Kamela Beaumont smiled at the woman seated across from her, studying the time-worn face, thick makeup that to all except the most perceptive eye disguised the green discoloration, subtle swelling. The son-of-a-bitch had beaten her again.
Kamela continued her assessment, the long sleeves of the Versace silk, even though the weather was blistering outside. The delicate scarf tied around her neck. Olivia Elkins was a beautiful woman, but the luster was gone from her eyes. The spark of life slowly fading.
"Kamela?"
Placing her napkin on the table, Kamela took the hands fluttering helplessly, and held them tight, her own hands trembling. Olivia had expected an answer, but perhaps not the one she was about to reveal.
"Women often look their most beautiful, Olivia, when they’re pregnant."
Kamela watched the color fade from the already pale face, the hazel eyes start, blink, and settle on her face questioning, seeking.
"Jordan and I are expecting a child."
Olivia pulled her hands away, shaking her head. “But that’s impossible. Jordan is in prison."
Kamela laughed, a soft tinkle, like delicate crystal. "Money buys many things, Olivia. It can buy private time. Even in prison."
Olivia continued to shake her head as realization slowly dawned on her. The hands stopped fluttering, but her mouth twitched, words forming slowly.
"Does he know?"
"No."
Olivia continued to nod slowly, her hands settling around the crystal water goblet, gently wiping away the condensation, like the tears on a child’s face. There had been so many tears. So much heartache.
Kamela waited until the hazel eyes met hers, clear, determined.
"What do you want me to do?"
Still she hesitated. There was just no other way. "We have to get him out, Olivia. I want my child to have a father."
"William will never allow it."
Kamela felt her anger rise, color flooding her face. "William would have no choice if you told the truth, Olivia."
Kamela immediately regretted her words as the hazel eyes misted, tears threatening to overflow.
"I tried to tell the truth."
"I know, you did, Olivia. We have to try again. Jordan only stole that gun to protect you. You know he would never hurt anyone." No one except his father, Kamela thought.
"Olivia, talk to Michael. Tell him the truth. Show him."
Olivia slowly shook her head. She had fought so hard to hide the truth from her beautiful boys. They were all that had sustained her. The only spark of joy in her world of hell. If only Jordan had not come home early that day. If only . . .
Rising slowly, Olivia wiped her hands on the napkin, folded it and placed it carefully on the table. Her lips trembled slightly as she smiled, but her hands were steady.
"I’ll talk to William."
"Olivia, no. You can’t. He’ll. . ." Kamela’s voice faltered as she watched in horrified silence as Olivia walked away from her, back straight, head held regally. ". . .kill you." She finished the sentence, her voice barely a whisper, as a cold chill enveloped her.
CHAPTER ONE
Michael Elkins took his gaze from the jury for just a moment to admire the beautiful young woman delivering a scathing closing argument. His former client was referred to as an unholy animal who had butchered and reveled in the death of a homeless immigrant. Her blue eyes flashed, as condemning words were delivered with precision. She didn’t flutter or wave her hands at exhibits. Instead she gripped them as weapons, walking slowly in front of each juror as she met their eyes, dropped her voice, making it soft, senuous. "This was someone’s son. Someone’s father. Someone’s best friend."
The jurors averted their eyes from the gory picture.
Michael drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he grinned, remembering how those same hands had earlier that morning roamed his body, finding places that delighted them both. There was nothing stiff about Cassie, in or out of the courtroom. She lived for passion whether it was prosecuting a scumbag like Mark Trevello, or making love. He didn’t need to stay to hear the jury’s verdict. Trevello had lost the second she dropped her voice, whispered those soft words ". . .someone’s son. . .someone’s father. . . someone’s best friend."
Shrugging his shoulders he met the gaze of Scott Harman, the young attorney that had taken his place on the case when Cassie was assigned as prosecutor. Their relationship wasn’t exactly public knowledge, but there was no way he would risk her career or his own for a lowlife like Trevello. He’d known Trevello was guilty from the first time he talked to him. He hated the loss for Scott, but he would be hard pressed to conceal his pride in Cassie.
Rising he caught her eye as she returned to prosecutor’s table to wait for Judge Moyer to deliver the jury instructions, and then the wait for the verdict. He caught the subtle wink, slight lifting of the corner’s of her mouth as her tongue flicked out for less than a second, a promise of things to come.
Michael raised his hand, running his fingers through the thick blonde hair, a silent salute as he headed for the courtroom door to answer the cell phone that had been vibrating incessantly for more than five minutes.
He cleared security, heading for fresh air and a much needed cigarette before he returned the call. The Honorable William Jefferson Elkins had summoned--six times. He wasn’t going to be happy about Michael’s refusal to answer the phone, even if he had been in court. Lighting the cigarette he took a deep drag and scowled. His father hadn’t called him in over six months, and now he’d called six times in the space of a half hour. Hitting the redial button he threw the unfinished cigarette into the street.
"Hello."
"Maria, it’s Michael. My father has been trying to reach me."
The silence on the phone was deafening. Michael felt the first tremors of foreboding.
"Hold please." The words were whispered, an underlying note of compassion, pain.
"Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you for hours." Judge Elkins bellowed into the receiver.
"I’ve been in court, dad." Michael didn’t bother to correct him that it had only been a half hour. No one ever corrected Judge Elkins. At least no one that still had a bar license.
"There’s been an accident." Anger still riddled the old man’s voice. "Your mother’s dead."
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Writing--Are you ready to release your first book?
If you're getting ready to release your first book--first, I'll say congratulations. You've reached milestone that many before you have reached, and many after you desire to reach. I hope to share some things below that I wish someone had shared with me. Following just a few of these can give you a better chance of success.
1) Create your platform NOW. Get involved in social media. Learn to write short, interesting tweets. Set up a blog and WRITE. You don't have to blog every day. In fact, you're probably going to bore a lot of people if you do. I mean, seriously, do you have something truly worthwhile to say every day? Something significant to share? Get a facebook page and invite your friends, family and others that are interested in the genre you're writing.
2) Now, to the really hard soul searching issues. Ask yourself the following questions:
1) Have you written the very best story you can write?
2) Are your characters well defined and easily identifiable even if you don't use their name?
3) Are your descriptions overly wordy, or easy for the reader to use their own imagination along with well placed descriptive words?
4) Has your book been professionally edited?
5) Have you sent out review copies to major review sites and/or review bloggers?
6) If self-publishing, have you studied the formatting for properly formatted books so that your book is attractive and easy to follow?
7) Are you ready to commit at least one hour or more a day to doing something to promote yourself and your book?
8) Is your cover professional looking and complimentary to your book? Put it up for your social media contacts to review and comment on. Run two or three potential covers and let people choose the best. The benefit here is you'll get an eye-catching cover as well as pre-release publicity for your book.
9) Do you have a marketing budget?
I'm sure there are a lot of things I've missed, so if you're reading this and you can think of something to add, then please do. These are just a few of the ones I wish I had known about four years ago. I've always followed the professional editing route, but I was totally unaware of author platforms, and yes, there are times when I look back now that I wish I could start over. I think my books are the best story I could write, but perhaps I would written the series differently. I would have started at the beginning and plotted exactly where the series was going, and how long it would continue.
Reviews are essential to your success. Getting reviews can be difficult, and take weeks or months before they're posted, so it's important that you look for those most beneficial to your genre prior to publication. Seek out good reviewers or bloggers that have a consistent following in your genre. There are many out there just waiting for a book just like yours, however, they may have an overload and a good review takes time.
It's said only the strong survive. And that is essentially true if you're an author. You're going to come up against some rough winds and choppy waters. Unless you're extremely rich already, or win the lottery, odds are you're not going to be an overnight success. The competition is vast and getting your book into the hands of people wanting to read it isn't as easy as it sounds. And even bestselling authors occasionally get a bad review. So face it, you're probably going to get a bad review at some point during your career. It isn't necessarily the bad review that will hurt you--it's your response to it. If it's an honest review, then pay attention to what the reviewer is saying. Learn from it. Thank the person for taking the time to read and review your book. Bad reviews don't necessarily hurt you. In fact in some instances they actually increase sales. But you've got to be tough. And you have to above all believe in yourself and your product. It's impossible to sell something you wouldn't buy yourself. So ask yourself why would I buy this book? What's appealing to me about it? The answers to those questions are the basis for your promotional platform. Good luck.
1) Create your platform NOW. Get involved in social media. Learn to write short, interesting tweets. Set up a blog and WRITE. You don't have to blog every day. In fact, you're probably going to bore a lot of people if you do. I mean, seriously, do you have something truly worthwhile to say every day? Something significant to share? Get a facebook page and invite your friends, family and others that are interested in the genre you're writing.
2) Now, to the really hard soul searching issues. Ask yourself the following questions:
1) Have you written the very best story you can write?
2) Are your characters well defined and easily identifiable even if you don't use their name?
3) Are your descriptions overly wordy, or easy for the reader to use their own imagination along with well placed descriptive words?
4) Has your book been professionally edited?
5) Have you sent out review copies to major review sites and/or review bloggers?
6) If self-publishing, have you studied the formatting for properly formatted books so that your book is attractive and easy to follow?
7) Are you ready to commit at least one hour or more a day to doing something to promote yourself and your book?
8) Is your cover professional looking and complimentary to your book? Put it up for your social media contacts to review and comment on. Run two or three potential covers and let people choose the best. The benefit here is you'll get an eye-catching cover as well as pre-release publicity for your book.
9) Do you have a marketing budget?
I'm sure there are a lot of things I've missed, so if you're reading this and you can think of something to add, then please do. These are just a few of the ones I wish I had known about four years ago. I've always followed the professional editing route, but I was totally unaware of author platforms, and yes, there are times when I look back now that I wish I could start over. I think my books are the best story I could write, but perhaps I would written the series differently. I would have started at the beginning and plotted exactly where the series was going, and how long it would continue.
Reviews are essential to your success. Getting reviews can be difficult, and take weeks or months before they're posted, so it's important that you look for those most beneficial to your genre prior to publication. Seek out good reviewers or bloggers that have a consistent following in your genre. There are many out there just waiting for a book just like yours, however, they may have an overload and a good review takes time.
It's said only the strong survive. And that is essentially true if you're an author. You're going to come up against some rough winds and choppy waters. Unless you're extremely rich already, or win the lottery, odds are you're not going to be an overnight success. The competition is vast and getting your book into the hands of people wanting to read it isn't as easy as it sounds. And even bestselling authors occasionally get a bad review. So face it, you're probably going to get a bad review at some point during your career. It isn't necessarily the bad review that will hurt you--it's your response to it. If it's an honest review, then pay attention to what the reviewer is saying. Learn from it. Thank the person for taking the time to read and review your book. Bad reviews don't necessarily hurt you. In fact in some instances they actually increase sales. But you've got to be tough. And you have to above all believe in yourself and your product. It's impossible to sell something you wouldn't buy yourself. So ask yourself why would I buy this book? What's appealing to me about it? The answers to those questions are the basis for your promotional platform. Good luck.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Writing - Opening Lines
Writing - Opening Lines
I love opening lines of books. Sometimes it's difficult to have just one line that pulls a reader in so you have your opening paragraph. If you've followed me on Twitter lately you'll notice I've been posting one line opening lines. Most of these are things that would pull me into a book at least enough to read the rest of the page, or perhaps the first chapter. In today's fast paced world of writing and marketing, sometimes all you have is ONE WORD to catch the attention of potential readers and buyers. That word has to either invoke or evoke an emotion or enough curiosity to capture the imagination in a way that makes them want to read more. Professional marketing executives know that you have to use power words or a one-line powerful sentence to sell your product. Amazing, Attention, Authentic, Bargain, Cheap, Daring, Destiny, Excellent, Free, Huge, Hottest, Incredible, Limited, Magic, Monumental, Noted, Outstanding, Powerful, Quality, Rare, Shocking, Tremendous, Unbelievable, Unparalleled, Unusual, Unsurpassed - for just a few. We've all seen these words in advertising and, yes, they catch our attention.
I used the word Destiny as my one-word opening line for Sacred Secrets, A Jacody Ives Mystery. Hopefully that word implies to the reader that something major is going to happen somewhere along the line. Some of my one-liners from yesterday were:
They called us acceptable losses.
For me this opens the door to my imagination for a group of people that have been set up. It could be soldiers in the war sent on an impossible mission. It could a group of kids in high school singled out because they're different. It could be two lovers. It could be anything the imagination wants to conjure up. It could be much like the movie The Expendables. Same thing, different word - Expendable a one word line that says a lot or - They called us acceptable losses.
Today I killed a man.
Okay, that gets the imagination juices flowing. Why? Ooh, I have to know why. Was he a good man, a bad man, an accident?
A one-word line I truly love to play with is - Click.
Simple, right? Not really all that simple. Click could be a thriller as you hear the sound of the gun being cocked behind you. Click could be a horror story as the lights suddenly go out in the old house. Click could be a romance as the guy at the end of the bar lights a cigarette, his sultry brown eyes gazing into yours. Click could be a comedy as the camera snatches one of those pictures you just can't have up on facebook. One word, but a powerful word.
These are things I wished I'd known when I first started writing. The old KISS syndrome. And valuable tools for marketing. Alas, I wasted a lot of time writing long blogs, wimpy releases and wordy sales ads. It doesn't take a lot to tell your potential readers something fantastic about your books. Sometimes it takes only one short word. Let's take the Jacody Ives Mysteries - Chilling! Shocking! Cheap! (only .99 on Amazon Kindle and B & N).
And you can buy them with just one - CLICK!
The Gifts, A Jacody Ives Mystery
Sacred Secrets, A Jacody Ives Mystery
Happy writing and happy reading.
Looking for a Holiday E-Book Sale - Check out the Indie Authors at:
Listmania
I love opening lines of books. Sometimes it's difficult to have just one line that pulls a reader in so you have your opening paragraph. If you've followed me on Twitter lately you'll notice I've been posting one line opening lines. Most of these are things that would pull me into a book at least enough to read the rest of the page, or perhaps the first chapter. In today's fast paced world of writing and marketing, sometimes all you have is ONE WORD to catch the attention of potential readers and buyers. That word has to either invoke or evoke an emotion or enough curiosity to capture the imagination in a way that makes them want to read more. Professional marketing executives know that you have to use power words or a one-line powerful sentence to sell your product. Amazing, Attention, Authentic, Bargain, Cheap, Daring, Destiny, Excellent, Free, Huge, Hottest, Incredible, Limited, Magic, Monumental, Noted, Outstanding, Powerful, Quality, Rare, Shocking, Tremendous, Unbelievable, Unparalleled, Unusual, Unsurpassed - for just a few. We've all seen these words in advertising and, yes, they catch our attention.
I used the word Destiny as my one-word opening line for Sacred Secrets, A Jacody Ives Mystery. Hopefully that word implies to the reader that something major is going to happen somewhere along the line. Some of my one-liners from yesterday were:
They called us acceptable losses.
For me this opens the door to my imagination for a group of people that have been set up. It could be soldiers in the war sent on an impossible mission. It could a group of kids in high school singled out because they're different. It could be two lovers. It could be anything the imagination wants to conjure up. It could be much like the movie The Expendables. Same thing, different word - Expendable a one word line that says a lot or - They called us acceptable losses.
Today I killed a man.
Okay, that gets the imagination juices flowing. Why? Ooh, I have to know why. Was he a good man, a bad man, an accident?
A one-word line I truly love to play with is - Click.
Simple, right? Not really all that simple. Click could be a thriller as you hear the sound of the gun being cocked behind you. Click could be a horror story as the lights suddenly go out in the old house. Click could be a romance as the guy at the end of the bar lights a cigarette, his sultry brown eyes gazing into yours. Click could be a comedy as the camera snatches one of those pictures you just can't have up on facebook. One word, but a powerful word.
These are things I wished I'd known when I first started writing. The old KISS syndrome. And valuable tools for marketing. Alas, I wasted a lot of time writing long blogs, wimpy releases and wordy sales ads. It doesn't take a lot to tell your potential readers something fantastic about your books. Sometimes it takes only one short word. Let's take the Jacody Ives Mysteries - Chilling! Shocking! Cheap! (only .99 on Amazon Kindle and B & N).
And you can buy them with just one - CLICK!
The Gifts, A Jacody Ives Mystery
Sacred Secrets, A Jacody Ives Mystery
Happy writing and happy reading.
Looking for a Holiday E-Book Sale - Check out the Indie Authors at:
Listmania
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