BsB FBH!

You've found another stop on the

 

For the next couple of weeks you can make the circuit to all of the participating blogs, and hopefully collect some new friends along the way. We are giving away books as prizes, and each blog will have some hints to questions on the blog entry form. It is super easy to enter. This is not a history or math quizz...

Why are we doing this? To celebrate and share our friendship.

Some of us are connected in ways that go beyond book creation and marketing. BestsellerBound authors have become family to one another, the kind of friends that understand all the ups and down of this business and that authors are much more than just the books they write. We have become a community sharing and caring for one another through business, health and personal problems.

 

I can certainly relate to that.

 

Two years ago, my family was facing a serious crisis. Knowing that the future would be uncertain for an unpredictable time, I began to write. My first book became a shelter from worry. It helped keep me sane, actually. That first novel became a second, and suddenly a third because I had the time to fill and the words exploded from my fingertips. How that led me to BestsellerBound is too long a story to include here.

 

The concise version is that I knew nothing about self-publishing and had three books in my hands. The community at BsB was instantly welcoming. In no time at all, I realized what a wealth of experience and talent they had to offer. None of my brief ventures into other writing forums worked well for me. There were too many forums that cared only for playing the traditional publishing game. I could not stand the attitude that creativity had no place in publishing. At BestsellerBound I found writers who were just like me—people who were writing because it was deeply personal and important to them. They offered lots of understanding and advice, without any of the condescending attitude. I feel wealthy to have found them.

 

Would you believe it—I work in publishing now, helping other authors win their dream of seeing their own books in print. Life is wonderful.

 

Here are the participating members in this BsB Hop, and the links to their sites:

 

BestsellerBound Recommends (http://quietfurybooks.com/bestsellerboundrecommends/friendship-blog-hop)

A Word Please (http://quietfurybooks.com/blog/2012/11/friendship) - Darcia
Life With Lyme (http://www.quietfurybooks.com/lifewithlyme) - Darcia
The Far Edge of Normal (http://jaletaclegg.blogspot.com/) - Jaleta Clegg
Maria's Goodreads Blog ( http://www.goodreads.com/author_blog_posts/3240707-the-bestsellerbound-friendship-blog-hop/)
Stacy Juba's One Stop Readin (http://stacyjuba.com/blog/2012/11/12/book-lovers-come-visit-the-bestseller-bound-friendship-event/ )
Scribblings from my mind (http://www.lanavoynich.com/blog-2/) - Lana Voynich

 

To enter for a chance at the prizes simply visit each of the listed blogs. You will find come special clues to the answers for questions on the entry form. Answer all the questions, fill out the form, and wait to hear if you have won.

 

Here is the list of prizes being offered by these outstanding authors:

 

Secrets by Darcia Helle (Print)

Haunted by Maria (Print)

Belkin Mod Standing Cover for Kindle Fire

Sink or Swim by Stacy Juba (ebook)

Alaskan Healing by Lana Voynich (ebook)

Nexus Point by Jaleta Clegg (ebook)

 

Here is the link to the entry form: http://tinyurl.com/b7l47gb

 

 

I am offering a print copy of that first novel, Harmony's Passing, a Science Fiction of deep detail and danger. The joy of writing it sheltered me through one of the most difficult episodes of my adult life. It isn't anything perfect, or extraordinary, but it helped me find personal strength. It helped me onto the path to finding friends who, themselves, are extraordianry, and just about perfect.

 

Here is a sample of the text. Perhaps some of my distress was being projected into the story...you can decide. I do write about intense, dangerous, personal changes in my characters. Yet, I always give them help.

And when it fits the story, I even send them Angels.

 

 

 

Harmony's Passing

Pages 75-76

 

      He realized he was wandering the house, just looking around without noticing things really, lost in his own thoughts. He found himself just outside the den and heard Abigail singing softly to Pam on the floor. They had pulled a blanket down and made a pallet in the middle and were looking up at the fish in the aquarium. Abigail’s voice was so familiar, why had he never heard her sing before? She talked to him several times a week it seemed. Oh, at least every other day. He stood just outside the door, listening, they had not noticed him.
    
    She calls me every day, twice.

    Dennis suddenly realized that Abigail knew what Pam ate for every meal. How did she do that? How did she keep track of things he forgot within minutes of sitting down in the space room? Wilson suddenly came to mind. Wilson, on the phone, or Helen as well, or on the COM link. Voices having conversations with Dennis almost as often as he talked to Pam. How can I spend so much time talking about work instead of taking care of my daughter? The question made him very sad. But they were not always conversations about work, were they?

Dennis stood quietly in the hallway, listening to Abigail sing and realized they were helping him live his life, so very far away but helping him all the same. If Pam missed a meal, someone knew it. Someone would call with a silly excuse but remind him to feed Pam and maybe himself. They are not here because they like the house, or the town, and certainly not because of the work. Dennis felt tears on his cheek. They were here because he needed them. It broke his heart.

      Then he heard it. Softly, shyly, his daughter was singing with Abigail. They were playing with each other’s fingers and Pam twined one hand through Abigail’s hair. They were singing a silly little song about Simple Simon. Abigail was there for Pam. He could hear it. Dennis listened as long as he could stand it, and then walked quietly down to the bathroom to bury his face in a towel.

 

 



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