Killer Fiction

MAN THEORY - by Guest Blogger Vicki Batman (hosted by Killer Fictionista Diane Kelly)

2012-01-30T00:01:00.002-06:00

I am thrilled to host one of my writing buddies, Vicki Batman, here at Killer Fiction today! Vicki's a hoot - you'll love her. Read on to find out her theories about some strange and wonderful creatures - men.

MAN THEORY by Vicki Batman

I showed the cover to my new short story collection to my men and they died laughing. I knew the title was funny, but that funny? They asked, "What do you know about men?"

A lot more than they think.

I come from a family of four girls. So, yeah, I didn't really-really know men. But lots of water has passed under the bridge, and here's some things I have observed over the years:

- men talk short
- snakes--what's the problem?
- smell good after a shower
- cars = speed
- shopping is for food and guns, athletic stuff, computer
- clean house???
- wash clothes when out of clean underwear
- meat, meat, meat
- what's wrong with what I'm wearing?
- love their pets
- action movie vs. romance -- uh, no contest
- socks are an accessory
- sleeves are for nose wiping

My quick short story, Man Theory, is about a geek who espouses his theory about love. Here's a fun excerpt:

"I have a theory about love.”

Ethan's statement knocked me from the proverbial mountain top. Eyeing him, I clapped my hand across my mouth to stifle a giggle.

From Day One at our new jobs at Prime Designs, Ethan and I had forged a friendship. I was the artsy-heartsy, emotional gal. Him--the technical, by-the-book pal. We ate an occasional dinner, watched a movie, whatever. Traded small gifts like coffee, a magazine, music. However, Ethan had never made an overture toward me.

Translated: Nothing intimate.

I'd said to myself, "Rats."

For work, we'd traveled to Colorado Springs to attend a workshop on web design innovations. After check-in, I'd joined him at the bridge crossing the lake to decide about lunch before the meetings commenced.

My six-one geek wearing rimless glasses, leaned against the railing, and stared into the sparkling blue waters of the high mountain lake, and the feathered fowl paddling by.

Have his feelings changed? I asked in disbelief, "R-really? A theory...about love?"

What have you discovered about your man/men?

When you add to the list, your name will be added in a drawing for a free ebook (be sure to include your email).

Vicki Batman is kicking back with a diet Coke and torturing a new set of characters by playing "what if?" Find her at: http://vickibatman.blogspot.com OR at: http://plottingprincesses.blogspot.com

Man Theory and Other Stories will be available February 1 thru Amazon and Barnes and Noble.

Morning (Afternoon and Evening) Sick

2012-01-27T03:00:00.001-06:00

For anyone looking for a good read, my third Hollywood Headlines book, HOLLYWOOD CONFESSIONS is now free on Amazon.com!

Just follow the link below, or go to Amazon.com and search for the title. (Just be sure to click the formats book for the totally free version, not the version only free to Prime members.) If you don’t have a Kindle device, you can still read the free book by downloading the free Kindle app for your MAC, PC, ipad, iphone, android, blackberry, or other smart phone devices.

HOLLYWOOD CONFESSIONS free!

This month I’ve been really slacking on the writing. What to know why? Two words: morning sickness. Though why it is called morning is beyond me since, as most women who have been pregnant know, it’s morning, noon, and night. For example, yesterday I got a call from a woman at the “advanced age mother’s program” at my insurance company. (Thanks. Now I feel better about myself. I mean, I know I’m not 20 anymore, but do we really have to call it “advanced age”? Couldn’t we call it “more prepared” or “more experienced”? We are highly hormonal, you know. People have been killed for saying less about pregnant woman at this stage.) The woman asked me a series of questions about how my pregnancy was gogin so far. When she got to the one about morning sickness, I had to laugh at her. “How many of the last 24 hours would you say you have experienced any nausea?”

“Um, all of them?”

“And of the last 48 hours?”

“All of them.”

“And of the last-“

“Let me just save you some time here. Whatever time frame you’re giving me, the answer is all of them.”

She then went on to ask what kinds of foods I was eating. Did she not just hear me? 24/7 nausea. I’m not eating food. Okay, *chewing and swallowing* - toast. Digesting - none. Unless water counts as a food.

Anyway, as you can imagine, it makes it a little bit hard to write. Love scenes are DEFINITELY out at the moment. (Why would I want to write about what put me in this position in the first place?! Let me tell you, there would be a lot of condoms involved.) My characters have not eaten a meal since the beginning of the book. No food scenes whatsoever. No humor scenes either. It’s hard to think funny when you’re constantly running to pray to the porcelain gods. Which basically leaves me with shooting scenes. I’ve been shooting a LOT of people lately. (See hormonal reference above.) This book is going to be chock full of action.

The one nice side effect of being newly pregnant? My memory is totally shot. I’ve completely forgotten when my deadline for this book is. Convenient, right? ;)

Okay, if anyone has any remedies for morning sickness, lay ‘em on me. So far MetroMint peppermint water is my best friend, but I’m so open to suggestions!

~Trigger Happy Halliday

Oops!

2012-01-26T17:16:00.002-06:00

Okay. I blew it. Today was my day to blog. And I knew it was my day to blog because I saw the reminder email that one of my fellow Killer Fiction bloggers set up to send to all of us to remind us when it's our turn.

But that was before I came down with a respiratory crud that came on fast and is still hanging on. Chills. Body aches. Cough. Fatigue. So, in spite of not being able to use the old "dog ate my homework" story I do have a legitimate reason to be posting this late.

And if being sick wasn't excuse enough, I'm also days away from my tax prep appointment. Seriously? The creeping crud and taxes in the same week? Tell me I've earned a pass this week.

On a happier note, I've finished the manuscript an editor requested the full of and it is on that editor's desk. Not one to sit on pins and needles while I wait, I've immersed myself in my next Calamity Jayne mystery and I must say, it's a joy to be back writing this series. I've really missed Tressa Jayne and the Grandville gang.

So, apologies to all for being late to the blog today. If anyone wants to make me feel better by sharing an example of the last time they spaced off something, chime in.

~Bullet Hole~

WARNING!

2012-01-25T03:16:00.000-06:00

By Robin "Red Hot" Kaye

I have three teenagers and two of them are driving, so if you live in the state of Maryland, you might want to make sure you stay far away from any Blue Priuses.

Yes, child number one received his driver’s license on Friday and child number two is driving me and everyone else crazy since she received her learner’s permit.

Having mobile teens is good and bad. My son is now able to drive to school so I don’t have to pick him up after his JROTC duties. It’s also handy when I need a few things from the grocery store while I’m in the midst of cooking a meal.

On the down side, he thinks that since he’s able to drive, my car should be available to him at all times. He received his first lesson on that today when I said “No.” Of course I had to repeat it two more times just to make sure he got it into his head. And that was before he explained that I should allow him to drive the Sequoia to school since he’d get teased for driving a prissy Prius. That statement was met with a “Hell No!” after which I explained that if he was too embarrassed to drive the Prius, he was more than welcome to drive any other car he wanted—he’d just have to buy it first. Needless to say, he kissed me on the cheek and said, “I love you, Mom,” which is what he always says when he’s headed to the doghouse. Smart boy.

I don’t know about you, but I still have nightmares about driving with my parents. I’ll never forget the first time my father took me out to teach me to drive a stick shift. We lived on The Main Line of Philadelphia—think rolling hills—and Dad decided I should drive to Sears with him. Now my father, God love him, has never been the calm and retiring type—he’s the exact opposite. He spent the entire drive screaming at me and teaching me interesting combinations of curse words. By the time I pulled into the parking lot, I was about to lose my lunch. I never wanted to be that parent so I had my husband, the calmest man I’ve ever known, teach the kids to drive—problem solved, right? Wrong.

My son knows me well enough to never drive with me. I’m not a good passenger on my best day. He’s like his dad—he's missing the loudmouth Italian gene and doesn’t tolerate screaming well. I think he’s secretly relieved he’ll never have to drive me anywhere while I’m conscious. My daughter, however, is a legend in her own mind. Twinkle Toes, never lacking in confidence, thinks she’s the best driver the lord ever put on four wheels and has never been fazed by my loudmouth Italian tendencies. The other day she begged me to let her drive home from the Starbucks. I figured, what the hell. We were only a mile away from the house, the car wouldn’t go above 30 miles per hour, and if I screamed at her, she really wouldn’t care. I did okay until we hit the driveway. Our driveway has a big hump in the middle and the Prius bottoms out on if you try to straddle it, so you have to drive with one tire on the hump, and the other very close to the grass, which then runs up a very steep hill. Twinkle Toes wasn’t sure of how far over she needed to be and the next thing I know, we’re off roading, which would have been fine in the Sequoia or the Jeep, but the Prius? I'm talking we're were at a 40-degree angle! I was screaming, which didn't faze her, but then neither did the fact we were off-roading. She looked over at me and gave me the teenage eye roll. if I didn't have my hand wrapped around the Oh-Shit-I'm-gonna-die handle, I would have smacked her.

She's fine, I, unfortunately, have yet to recover.

So who taught you how to drive? And are you brave enough and calm enough to teach your own kids? Any helpful hints?

Running shoes? Check. Zombies? Wait...

2012-01-24T03:00:00.000-06:00

Something happened last week that still has me grinning every time I think about it. "The Run for Your Lives" Zombie-infested 5K is coming to St. Louis.

Now I've been stalking this race for awhile. They've been doing it in lots of other cities for the past few years. And the website cracks me up.

Basically, this is a 5K obstacle course where zombies try to "eat" you. Now this not being the actual end of civilization as we know it, the zombie threat is more to your ego. Each runner is given a race belt with flags. And similar to flag football, the flags can be torn off until none are left. At that point, you are a zombie. You can still run the race because, you know, it takes a bit for the virus to transform you. But you have to admit, it will call for a lifestyle change.

Someone took a chest-camera video of the race in Baltimore last year. Cracks me up every time I watch it (which is too much according to my daughter).

So if you're a runner or if you think you might be chased by zombies some day, check it out. And if anybody wants to run from zombies with me, we're getting a team together for the 3:00 p.m. wave on August 18 in St. Louis. Sign up for Team Fox. We'll be plotting our survival strategy and getting some cool t-shirts. I'll also bring a box of Twinkies for the end (Zombieland fans will know we need them).

Confusion Central

2012-01-23T07:10:00.006-06:00

Cricket and Stacie won the copies of my upcoming Intrigue. I'll be in touch, ladies! Thanks for posting!

I spent the weekend trying to get all the Christmas decor packed, labeled and stored so that it's not still stacked in my living room. Yes, I said Christmas decor. Don't rush me; I'm busy. :) And besides, this is not, by far, the worst year. The worst year was the one where my brother came by to visit and carried my entire tree, decorations and all, into the garage....in May.

So I was doing some catch-up shopping also as you can tell I'm behind on everything and I've decided I am quite confused. By toilet paper. Whatever happened to those big packs you could get at Walgreens 2 for $10? Yes, I know, inflation and all that and technically, they've got you over a barrell, because well, toilet paper is sorta necessary for most folks.

But now, it's like selecting the best piece of confetti out of a trash bag full of it.

I can even narrow it down by brand - I've always liked Charmin - but that doesn't get me any closer to the best bargain for the money. They have all this used car salesman stuff going on - 36 double rolls equals 72 rolls, 20 extra padded rolls equals 32 regular rolls, and on and on and on.

I look at the packaging and try to figure out the logic of breaking the price down by roll and there's not any. Sometimes, it appear that the exact same roll of toilet paper may differ in price by a dollar. WTH?

So I'm making a suggestion to toilet paper manufacturers - price toilet paper by the foot. Feet are easily compared. And no one foot equals two foot plus a club foot nonsense. Just tell me how many feet of toilet paper I get in a package and let me do simple math.

Anyone who hasn't Liked my Facebook author page, please do so. I'm going to do giveaways there and want all my readers to have chances to win.

Today, I'm going to give away two copies of my upcoming February Harlequin Intrigue release to two blog posters. So post a comment with your email for a chance to win a copy of THE LOST GIRLS OF JOHNSON'S BAYOU.

Deadly DeLeon

Modern Families by Maria Grazia Swan

2012-01-21T03:00:00.000-06:00

I have this thing about my teeth. When I was growing up, our town didn’t have a real dentist. The young man performing dental work had learned from his father. Whatever he did was always without anesthetic, no laughing gas, no Novocain...he strapped you in, and you got to exercise your vocal cords.

When I came to The States and discovered the way it is supposed to work, I was ecstatic. You’ll never hear me complain about going to the dentist. Because of the experiences from my youth, I’m a little obsessed with prevention. At some point I was getting my teeth cleaned every four months. I didn’t see the dentist often but got very chummy with the hygienist. One day, the dentist called me into his office and explained that, while they would happily take my money every four months, it wasn’t necessary, six months between cleaning would be fine. Now I see the hygienist every six months, and that means we have to talk faster to catch up with all that happened in between cleanings. She does the talking, I can’t. My mouth must stay open with that sucking thing hanging on one side of the lips, but I’ve learn to express my dis/approval through my eyes. We get along royally.

My last visit was just before Christmas. Tracy had a happy glow about her, the one pregnant women often exude. I knew that wasn’t the case, because she already has 4 kids and, last time I asked, no husband. Okay, I know, you can have more than 4 kids and you don’t need a husband.

She tells me ‘they’ just purchased a big old house for everyone to live happily together. I assumed she was talking about her mom. Yes, and no.

Here is the story, Tracy got married. She married the gay man she met one morning when she ran out of gas on her way to work. Now they all live together, Tracy, her mom, the four kids, Tracy’s new husband, his partner and, occasionally, Tracy’s former husband when he comes to town to see his doctor. I wanted to ask questions so bad I accidently bit the sucking thingy.

“There must be something I’m missing.” I managed to say before a new sucking tool was inserted into my mouth.

“I needed medical insurance,” Tracy said. “My husband has a fantastic medical plan, and now my kids and I are insured. I was able to get the surgery I needed and had been postponing. I feel like he saved my life”

I motioned I needed time off, “I understand what you are getting out it, how about him?”

“He always wanted a family, now he has one. He adores my kids, helps them with homework, this is the most stable home life they’ve had in years. And both my husband and his partner cook. I mean, really cook! I love to see people’s faces when he introduces me as his wife and then introduces his partner. Priceless.”

Tracy has a screwy sense of humor.

While setting up my next appointment, she asked, “Are you going to use my happy story in one of your books?”

I thought about it for a minute or two, “Nah, no one would believe it.”

~ Maria

http://www.mariagrazia.tv/

LOVE THEY SISTER

buy at Amazon.com

buy at Barnes&Noble.com

Practical Romance

2012-01-19T02:30:00.004-06:00

Tonight it was suggested to me that when a woman starts dating a man the first thing she’s thinking about is how that man makes her feel. If it’s good her focus is on that giddy feeling.

I don’t think it works that way. At least it doesn’t for me, not anymore. I think on a whole, women are much more pragmatic about their relationships in the beginning. If they’re interested in something more than just a fling what they’re initially thinking about is not how this guy makes them feel. Instead they’re focused on the following questions: “Is this someone I can respect?” “Do we have enough in common?” “Could I trust this person with my kids?” (assuming there are kids) “How would I feel introducing this person to my friends?” “Is he stable?” “Do we share the same values?” and so on and so forth.

I think that this is the main reason most of us want to wait before having sex. It’s not that we’re worried that the guy we’re with will stop respecting us if we put out too early, it’s that we know we won’t even be able to fully enjoy the experience unless we feel more settled about the above questions. In other words, the giddiness can come but only after our brains have decided that this is someone worth getting giddy about.

But a lot of men don’t realize women think that way. Sure, they complain about gold diggers but when you press them further they seem to imagine us to be much more romantic about it all, even going so far as to suggest that we are guided completely by our emotions. And maybe we are...when we’re in our teens and early 20s.

But by the time the 30s come around women have become pragmatists and it’s the men who are the romantics, being led around by their feelings of excitement over this or that person, barely noticing the warning signs until they’re either slapped in the face with them or their excitement has died down. So why is it that women are still seen as the emotional ones when it comes to relationships?

I think we fiction writers are partially to blame. See, the fun thing about movies and books, particularly those written purely to entertain, is that everyone is guided by their emotions and that’s doubly true when it comes to female characters and romance. Take Scarlett O’Hara and Catherine (of Catherine and Heathcliff fame). Both were completely impractical when it came to love and when they did make pragmatic decisions they usually ended up regretting them because those decisions didn’t fulfill their hearts the way giving into their true soulmates might have. And when it comes to modern literature...well really, does anyone think it’s pragmatic to date a vampire?

But secretly (or maybe not that secretly) we all want to be able to be controlled by our emotions. We want to do what feels right rather than what logically seems right. We want to trust that our hearts really will lead us in the right direction. So people like me create emotionally driven characters and we joyfully live vicariously through the romance of it all.

And then we go out on our dates and we temporarily shelve the let's-get-giddy instinct and cling to our pragmatism.

Because really, being led around purely by our emotions? That only works for fictional women and maybe a few not-so-fictional grown-up boys.

Kyra "Fashionista Fatale" Davis

WWBWD?

2012-01-18T02:52:00.000-06:00

What WOULD Betty White Do?

It's Betty's 90th birthday! Happy Birthday Betty...on the off (off, off, off) chance that she reads this blog. Betty was among the first funny ladies in Hollywood. And she just gets funnier (like I will, naturally) with age.

Betty's genius has gone largely unnoticed for years until recently. But she had me with The Golden Girls. In fact, I imagine that's how the killerfiction babes will end up - all of us in a house in Boca - with me as Bea Arthur. I'm not going to speculate who would be the others - you know who you are.

In celebration, I thought I'd share a few of Betty's funniest quotes:

On aging:

"Oh, I don't need sleep. I just went to my hotel and had a cold hot dog and a vodka on the rocks."

I'm making this our regular Wednesday night family dinner.

On the battle of the sexes:

"Why do people say 'grow some balls'? Balls are weak and sensitive. If you want to be tough, grow a vagina. Those things can take a pounding."

Betty White vs. Chuck Norris - who's with me?

On natural history:

"All creatures must learn to coexist. That's why the brown bear and the field mouse can share their lives in harmony. Of course, they can't mate or the mouse would explode."

I have never heard a scientist say this, and I wonder why because it's totally true.

Happy Birthday Betty!

The Assassin

Writers are Funny People

2012-01-17T03:30:00.006-06:00

WINNER! WINNERS!! The winner of the $5 giftcard is Kristi. But I've chosen two other winners to recieve some swag: Theresa N. and Blackrose 37at yahool.com please all three of you email me at Christie(at)Christie-craig(dot)com

Contest! Contest! Win a $5 gift card to either B&N or Amazon.

Writers are funny people. Not funny-funny, although some of us can be. I’m talking more funny-strange. Yeah, I know that probably sounds like a weird confession to make, since I am a writer, but go with me on this for a minute or two. Not only do writers create imaginary people who are as real to us as our own families are, we also get all wrapped up in feeling the same emotions that our characters feel. I’m talking joy. Sorrow. Exhilaration. Heartache. And even grief. We feel each emotion as intensely as our story people do. This ability to connect with our characters’ emotions helps us to create characters and write scenes that strike an emotional chord with readers.

Now, when I describe it that way, it sounds like a good thing, doesn’t it? I mean, you’d never think about sending me away for a month-long vacation in the local psych ward or anything, would you? Well, could someone please explain that to my hubby? Because sometimes I do see that look in his eyes. The looks that says, I’m a frog’s hair away from strange men in lab coats walking in and fitting me for some nice, new white, very tight jacket. Oh, sure, he denies it but when he asks, “Who were you talking to?” and I tell him, “My characters,” this look of concern crosses his face. I know what he’s thinking—Christie’s finally gone and lost her mind. Hey, it’s not easy being a writer.

And it’s probably even harder being married to one.

Anyway, the reason I’m talking about how writers connect with their characters is because I had a new book out December 20th. This is one of those books that authors refer to as “the book of my heart.” Now, all of our books are special but some are just more special to us than others. That’s the case with Murder, Mayhem and Mama.

You see, this book was actually the first book I sold when I broke my long dry spell back in 2007. I’d sold four books that day—three were humorous romantic suspense novels to Dorchester. The other one was Murder, Mayhem and Mama, and my agent sold that to a small publisher who was going to release it as an e-book first and then out in print a year later. I was walking on air back then. Four of my babies were going to be published! But as often happens in this business, the publisher went under and Murder, Mayhem and Mama went back to living only in my imagination after a much too brief foray into the world.

But one great thing about the publishing industry is this: Things never remain stagnant. And now I’m beside myself with happiness that my baby is getting another chance.

Murder, Mayhem and Mama was released in digital form for Barnes and Noble’s Nook. On Feb. 10th, it will release at Amazon and other e-retailers. And I’m feeling just as excited about it this time as I was the first time.

So, what’s MM&M about? Well, it has all the hallmarks of a Christie Craig novel. By that, I mean, it has a hot romance between a yummy cop hero, Brit, and a quirky heroine, Cali, who are the perfect fit for each other (even if they don’t realize it.) There’s a mystery for them to solve and some dangerous bad guys who are threatening the heroine, plus a feisty Mama cat and her kittens who are determined to turn the hero into a cat person. By the way, the cat succeeds big time.

And then there’s Mama. And, no, this one isn’t a cat. She’s the heroine’s mama and she’s, well, dead. But still chain-smoking and offering her advice in my heroine’s very realistic dreams. Which is pretty much freaking out Cali. As a matter of fact, the look I see on her face is the same look I see on my hubby’s when he finds me having long conversations with my characters. She’s worried she might just be losing it. Nevertheless, Cali’s mom wants to make sure her baby girl is safe, and she also wants to see her baby girl find true love, so she’s not above a little other worldly match-making.

Here’s the cover for the book:

And here’s the blurb:

Being a mama is hard. But the job's even tougher when you're dead.

Cali McKay's mama isn't ready to pass over to the "other side" yet. Her
unlucky-in-love daughter needs her now more than ever. Before Mama can
chain-smoke her way to heaven, she's gotta make sure Cali's deadbeat
ex-boyfriend doesn't get her daughter killed.

Grief Sucks. Love Heals.

Cali lost her mom to cancer. Detective Brit Lowell lost his partner to
murder. Now he's in the mood to take down some dirtbags and Cali's ex just
happens to be a dirtbag leaving a trail of dead bodies behind him. Can
Brit trust this beautiful woman to help take down her ex? Can Cali look
past this sexy cop's hard exterior to trust him with her heart? Can life
get any crazier when Mama starts meddling from the grave? Only one thing’s
for sure—none of it will matter, unless they catch a killer before the
killer catches them.

So I hope all you guys with Nooks are giving my new baby a try. If you have a Kindle, be patient, it’s coming. And if you are solely a print book reader, well, I’m hoping someday to make that happen, too. But it may be a while.

Until then guys, stay happy. Keep laughing. And take my advice: avoid talking to yourself or your imaginary friends in front of people.

Today, I’ll give away a $5 gift card to either Amazon or B&N. All you have to do is leave a post. If you want to make it interesting, tell me about a time you felt someone looked at you as if you were a frog’s hair away from being locked up in a padded room.

~CC

LET'S GET "UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL" WITH GUEST BLOGGER DONNELL ANN BELL! (hosted by Killer Fiction author Diane Kelly)

2012-01-16T00:01:00.006-06:00

CHERYL - YOU WON A COPY OF DONNELL'S BOOK! JUNE - YOU WON THE $25 GIFT CERTIFICATE! PLEASE EMAIL DIANE@DIANEKELLY.COM SO THAT I CAN SEND YOUR CONTACT INFO ON TO DONNELL TO GET YOUR PRIZES TO YOU. THANKS!

We’ve had big fun here at Killer Fiction for the last two weeks as we’ve hosted our "Kick off the New Year contest!"

THE WINNER OF THE KINDLE FIRE OR NOOK COLOR (OR EQUIVALENT VALUE GIFTCARD IF YOU'VE ALREADY GOT AN E-READER) IS "PETITE!" Petite, please email me at diane@dianekelly.com so that we can make arrangements to get your prize to you.

Congrats to all of our winners and thanks to everyone who stopped by to visit us here at Killer Fiction!

DAILY WINNERS:

Jan. 2 – Annie - $25 giftcard (not claimed yet! Annie, please email diane@dianekelly.com to claim your prize!)

Jan. 3 – Brandie - $25 giftcard

Jan. 4 – Kima - $25 giftcard

Jan. 6 - Sandy

Jan. 7 - the winners of Diana Layne's books were Rebekah E., StephanieJS, Virginia, and catslady

Jan. 9 – Alison - $25 giftcard; amf, Sarah S., Angela Bount – autographed copy of Jana DeLeon’s next Intrigue novel!

Jan. 10 - Barbara E. – $25 gift card and a copy of Robin Kaye's "Wild Thing"

Jan. 11 – Brandy - $25 giftcard

Jan. 12 – Glittergirl - $25 giftcard

Jan. 13 – RedPeril - $25 giftcard

Jan. 14 - Na - $25 giftcard

And now on to today’s blog.

It’s my pleasure to host suspense author Donnell Ann Bell here at Killer Fiction today! She touches on an issue that’s important to all writers – research. Authenticity is the key to creating a story that’s intriguing and compelling to readers. Read on to see how Donnell does it! And be sure to post a comment. Donnell will also be doing a $25 gift card giveaway today to either Barnes & Noble or Amazon (winner's choice).

Writing a Book Up Close and Personal

Hello Killer Fiction Bloggers! Don’t you love the “middle names” these brilliant authors christen themselves with? Let’s see, there’ “Trigger Happy” Halliday, “Crime Scene” Craig, “The Assassin” Langtry, “Bullet Hole, Bacus, “Killer” Kelly, the list goes on. Such creative killers! If I had to give me a middle name, it would be “Up Close and Personal” Bell. (I can do that because my last name is short ;).

The reason I say UC&P is because I’m a visual, tactile learner. As a former court reporter, I’m also a great listener. When I start writing, I often find myself typing along only to think, Wait, do I have that right? If I’m not sure. I’ve been known to stop a work in progress, pick up the phone and say to an expert, “Hey, can you meet with me?”

I’ve now met with police lieutenants, taken a Citizens Academy, volunteered for the sheriff’s office, and gone on numerous ridealongs. I go to lunch frequently with a coroner, my private eye friends are on speed dial, and just over the holidays, my daughter and I took an eight-hour gun course, complete with shooting range.
On-line classes are great, and I take them for an overview. But for me to get a true understanding, I go to the source. For instance, my volunteer assignments have helped me understand SWAT and police departments’ use of informants.

Thanks to the generosity of law enforcement and others, here’s a scene I wrote in “THE PAST CAME HUNTING.” Set up: My protagonist Melanie Norris has been kidnapped by my antagonist, rocking the world of her 15-year-old son who my cop hands over to his coach with instructions to keep the boy distracted. My police lieutenant, Joe Crandall, is coming to grips with how deeply in love he is with Mel and the guilt he feels that he wasn’t there to protect her. . .

“Very good, Mercer,” Joe said as the ex-convict ended the call. “If you ever decide to go straight, you should try acting.”

Along with several detectives, SWAT team members, the man nicknamed Skinny sat in a chair looking on. By his unrelenting glare, he didn’t appear happy that Mercer had agreed to wear a wire and cooperate with police. That was okay with Joe. Not only had Roscoe Mercer identified every member of the Chaos Bandits, the police had these men as accessories to felony kidnapping. Melvin “Skinny” Thomas wasn’t going to see the outside world anytime soon.

“Who’s got Skinny’s cell phone?” Joe asked.

A vice cop stepped forward. “I win that prize.”

“If it rings, keep your answers short. Don’t tip our hand.”

“Not a chance.”

Bruce Bennett entered as Joe and the other officer’s strapped on their Kevlar vests. “You understand what we want you to do, Mr. Mercer?” the D.A. asked.

Mercer reached for Luke’s practice jersey. Upon Joe’s request a patrolman had swung by Mel’s house and picked it up. “Walk in to Ramirez’s house and show ‘em this jersey.”

Joe lowered his head, hoping to God Mel could forgive him for using this tactic. They needed to establish her whereabouts before they swarmed the house. “Great,” Joe said. “Then what?”

“If the woman’s around I say, ‘What’s your name, pretty lady?’ If she’s not, I say, ‘Where’s the dame?’”

Pretty straightforward, Joe thought. Conceptually it should work, letting law enforcement know if it was safe to raid, using force. Too often, though, a kink found its way into the system.

Marksman Sam Ortega crossed the room. “We’re ready when you are, Lieutenant.”

Joe was pleased to see the man, who not too many weeks ago had been suspended for taking down a crazed meth dealer. Evidently, he’d been reinstated to active duty. Joe nodded. He directed an officer to take Skinny back to a holding cell.

Joe hadn’t even had to assign a group for this op. As soon as the callout went down, men stepped forward, the majority off duty, Ortega among them.

Clearing his throat, Joe said, “Thanks. Give me a second, then let’s do it.” He reached for the phone on his belt, walked to the window overlooking the lofts next door, then dialed Mel’s son.

Out of breath the boy answered after several rings. “Lt. Crandall?”

“Yeah, Luke, it’s me. Where are you?”

“I’m with Matt and Coach. We’re at school shooting baskets. What’s going on?”

“We believe we found your mom, and at this point, we think she’s okay. She’s being held against her will, and part of Maxwell’s scheme is to make her believe they have you.”

“What? That’s crazy. Why would―”

“Luke, listen to me. I hate to do this to you. Tell Coach to take you to his house and stay put and out of sight. I’m sure these people don’t travel in the same circles as any of you, but the media may be onto this kidnapping. If they see you out and about, or try to interview you when we’ve convinced them you’re being held someplace else, it could go bad for your mom.”

A moment’s silence occurred on the line before Luke said, “Got it.”

“Do I need to relay this information to your Coach?”

“No, sir. I’ll do it. Find my mom.”

“That’s the plan. Tell Matt I love him. Your father would be proud, Luke. I’m damn impressed as well. You boys be strong.”

Surrounded by patrol cars, Joe and the team walked to an unmarked van while Mercer slid into a blue Ford Focus. “Can you hear me?” the black man asked as he switched on the ignition.

“Copy,” the technician inside the van said.

“Just want you to know,” Mercer added. “If Ramirez and Maxwell smell a trap, you’ll never identify all my body parts. Take that up with the judge when you’re talking reduced sentence.”

“Will do, Mr. Mercer,” the D.A. replied. “Help us get Mrs. Norris out alive and it will buy you a great deal of leniency.”

Mrs. Norris alive. Taking slow, steady breaths, Joe entered the back of the vehicle and sat beside Bruce and the rest of the team.

The van started to move. The countdown was on.

I’m in complete admiration of someone who can sit down at a computer, write a book from start to finish, without ever leaving his or her keyboard. Talk about imagination and smarts. I merely know what I need to write a book.

Which brings me to you. What kind of learner are you? What do you put into your research? If you’re a writer, what do you do to ensure your scene’s authenticity? If you’re a reader, do you care if the author goes to such lengths? We’ll be drawing for a winner, either in digital or book form of THE PAST CAME HUNTING to a person who comments.

Thanks for having me as a guest on Killer Fiction!

Donnell Ann Bell is a two-time Golden Heart finalist and debut author for Bell Bridge Books. She sold her second book, also a Golden Heart finaling manuscript, to BBB, as part of a two -book deal. Look for book two to be released late 2012, early 2013. To learn more about Donnell, check out her website at www.donnellannbell.com

Dreaming in Italian with Maria Grazia Swan

2012-01-14T03:00:00.001-06:00

And the totally chosen at random winner of the $25 Starbucks or BN gift card (winner’s choice) is… Na! Congrats, Na! Email me at gemmasreadermail at gmail dot com with your contact info and we’ll get your prize out to you ASAP!

Please welcome our special guest blogger, Maria Grazia Swan! I've know Maria for years - ever since she published the hilarious BOOMER BABES, a non-fiction book about dating over 50. And now she has a fantastic mystery available in ebook that I highly recommend everyone check out.

Today Maria is giving away a $25 gift card to either Barnes & Noble or Starbucks (winner's choice). Just post a comment to be entered to win and check back tomorrow when the winner is announced.

I always wanted to be a writer. When I was a little girl I lived with my grandparents in a 3 story house my grandfather built. One rainy day I went up into the attic to look for something, not sure what. Keep in mind that was before phones, before TVs and certainly before computers. I found a wooden crate full of old books—Gialli, that’s what mysteries are called in Italy. The books had been left there by my uncle Agostino who migrated to Canada.

From then on I spent my weekends in the attic, reading. Agatha Christie, Rex Stout…I loved them all. In school my best grades were in Literature. My teachers liked my writing, often would read it out loud.

Then my parents moved to Belgium, and I said goodbye to my grandparents, the attic and the books. In Belgium I had to learn French, and I did. Soon my teachers liked my French essays.

I still dreamed of becoming a professional writer. By the time I was fourteen, not today’s fourteen, mind you, I entered a short story contest and won! A French newspaper published my story. Pretty good I guess, except, my parents didn’t read French, neither did my grandparent back in Italy. Still, I felt proud. It was a good start.

Life has a way of playing tricks on our carefully planned tomorrows. So I met an American boy, fell in love, married and moved to the United States. I had to learn English. And I did. Didn’t have much time to write with kids, a career, Great Danes and a philandering husband. I managed to survive without writing. Then came the divorce, the kids moved out, the Great Danes went to dogs’ heaven, and I went back to write, in English, of course.

I paid my dues, learned my craft and won an award, a national award! All right! By then my grandparents were dead, too late to make them proud, but they always believed in me and that made it okay.

In 2001 my first book was released, a mystery, in English. Love Thy Sister was a late homage to the 3 story house, my Italian heritage, and my newly found American life.

By then my parents were dead, but somehow I felt they always knew I would be a published writer.

I wrote more stories, more columns, more blogs, and more books— all in English. But when I dream, I dream in Italian.

2010 was a very bad year for me, in too many ways to even try to list them. I had to get back to writing, my true passion. That’s when a miracle happened, via Twitter. I swear, even as a writer, I can’t make this stuff up. I received an e-mail from an Italian publisher interested in the Italian rights of Love Thy Sister, my out-of-print mystery. I own all the rights, the paperback is no longer available. Of course I said yes!

The book will be released in Italy, October 2012. I’m saving my pennies to make it there for the launching! The 3 story house my grandfather built was sold after my mother died, but I still have 2 sisters and plenty of nieces and nephews and good friends to celebrate with me! I even have a growing number of Italian followers, how cool is that?

And for my non Italian speaking friends, Love Thy sister was just released as e-book in all the usual places. Okay, I’m not sure how that works, I hired Bookbaby.com to make it happen. Keeping my fingers crossed I may even get to see it in French some day.

Grazie a tutti.

~ Maria

http://www.mariagrazia.tv/

LOVE THEY SISTER

buy at Amazon.com

buy at Barnes&Noble.com

The Best Laid Plans

2012-01-13T03:00:00.001-06:00

The totally chosen at random winner of the $25 gift card is RedPeril! RedPeril, email me at gemmasreadermail at gmail dot com with your mailing address and preference of Amazon, BN or iTunes. Congrats!

Today I’m giving away a $25 gift card to Amazon, Barnes & Noble or iTunes (winner’s choice). Just comment below to be entered to win and check back tomorrow for an announcement of the winner!

I had the best laid plans for following my #1 New Year’s resolution – say no to anything that takes away from writing time. Big Boy was going back to school on Monday, Baby Boy’s babysitter was all lined up to be there. I had my new manuscript ready to start, a great idea for an opening scene brewing in my head. I had my Starbucks gift card all ready to order a venti Pumpkin Spice latte and a slice of iced lemon pound cake (the ultimate creative fuel). But did Monday morning find me writing? No. It most certainly did not.

Why? Well, let me back up a little…

Last year Big Boy wanted a bike for Christmas. He’d just learned to ride a two-wheeler and was ready for something bigger, sturdier, and less cartoon character themed. So, The Man and I (with a little help from Santa) got him this:

He loved it. Rode all over the neighborhood in it. Unfortunately, during that riding around the neighborhood, one day he went to a friend’s house across the street, left his bike on the lawn overnight, and in the morning it was gone. (This was when we lived in the neighborhood where anything that stood still for more than five minutes got stolen.) He was, of course, upset. But trooper that he is, he took up skateboarding as a means of transportation instead.

Fast forward to this past Christmas. My mom wanted to replace the bike that was stolen last year so that Big Boy could ride his bike to her house after school. She had it wrapped up at her house, where we were planning to visit Christmas afternoon. Big Boy opened his presents from Santa on Christmas morning, was thrilled with what he got from us, but then said in a kind of sad voice. “You know, I still miss my bike from last year.” Hehe! It was all I could do to not spill the beans that he was about to get a new one.

Once we got to my mom’s house, the first thing Big Boy saw was a large, bike-shaped present for him. He immediately tore into it, then took off on his bike riding around the neighborhood for the rest of the evening. Yay!

At this point you might be asking what this has to do with me not writing. Good question.

On New Year’s Day, Big Boy was out riding his new bike when The Man and I heard a scream. Then more screaming. And crying. And Big Boy calling for Mommy. (He’s 11. If he’s calling for “mommy” it must be bad.) We raced outside and found him at the bottom of the driveway (steep hill) in a crumpled pile tangled in his bike. He’d fallen and hurt his elbow. We rushed him inside, iced, checked to see that all the parts were still moving and nothing was swollen. We debated the emergency room, but considering that everything looked in working order, went the ice route instead. After a bit, Big Boy said he was feeling better and took off to play video games.

The next day he said his elbow felt a little better. Not great, but better. Two days later, it was still hurting “some”. Five days later he said, “You know. This isn’t getting better very fast. It still hurts a little when I straighten my arm.”

Uh oh.

So I packed him into the car and we went to the emergency room to get a “just in case” x-ray. Four hours later, the verdict came in – he’d been walking around for a week with a broken arm! I felt horrible. I told him that I owed him a big ice cream cone – maybe even triple scoop – as they bandaged his arm and put it in a temporary sling.

So, what was my Monday spent doing instead of writing? Calling our insurance, our pediatrician, the orthopedist, and then the insurance again trying to get him an appointment to get a permanent cast put on his arm. Then calling the E.R. to get a note from the attending doctor to get Big Boy out of PE class. Then emailing all of his teachers to say he can’t write or take notes in their classes. Then doing all his homework for him as he dictated.

Some day I’ll get back to writing. I swear it. In the meantime, I’m just hoping that our bike luck doesn’t get any worse.

~Trigger (but not bike) Happy Halliday

P.S. If anyone is looking for a good book, my entire Hollywood Headlines series will be available for FREE on Amazon.com this month.

free NOW through Jan 17 – Hollywood Scandals
free Jan 17-Jan 26 – Hollywood Secrets
free Jan 27 – Feb 5 – Hollywood Confessions

The winter that wasn't? I wish...

2012-01-12T03:55:00.002-06:00

BARBARA E is Robin Kaye's blog winner for yesterday. Email your contact information to Robin, Barbara E, so she can get your prize to you.

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I'm not a fan of winter. Neither are my knees or joints. I don't ski or participate in snowboarding. I don't like snowball fights or erecting snowmen or snow forts. I managed to fake an enjoyment in winter activities long enough to give my four kids exposure to those timeless winter experiences that are part and parcel of growing up in one of the plains states. But believe me. I've never been one of those "let it snow, let it snow, let it snow" devotees.

So after two brutal winters back to back here, it was with a weary sigh that I watched the calendar inch its way into November and December. And I did all those preparatory practices that veteran midwesterners do to prepare for the onset of winter weather.

I bought big bags of salt. I got the snowblower and my 4 Wheel Drive truck serviced and fueled up. I had the shovels and emergency kits at the ready. And as November ended and December began, I braced for the worst.

But something strange happened. Winter didn't arrive on time. In fact, we ended up with record breaking warm temperatures throughout December. Christmas Day was brown and beautiful.

I thought surely our luck would run out before the new year.

I was wrong. More warm temperatures followed. Lovely warm sunny days with dry roads and easy peasy commutes.

Which brings us to the day before yesterday: January 10. And a balmy SIXTY degrees! So, not wanting to gloat or anything, of course, I had my picture taken to commemorate the winter that wasn't.
I washed both of my vehicles and the house's windows. I put a load of towels on the clotheslines. I took a walk.

And...I jinxed us.

Today we're getting 45 mile an hour wind gusts, snow that has turned to ice on the pavements, and frigid temperatures to follow and I'll be slip-sliding to work in the wee hours this morning.

Oh, well. It was great while it lasted. Sometimes I really wish I lived some place where I didn't have to worry about snow, ice, and doing dipsy-doodles on my way to work.

Tell me. Are you a winter person or a summer person? What has your winter been like? If you wanted a white Christmas, did you get it? If you were able to live anywhere you wanted, where would you decide to call home and why?

I'm giving away a $25 Amazon or Barnes and Noble Gift Certificate to one lucky commenter in the US or CAN only who leaves a comment on todays' blog.

~Bullet Hole~

Life on ice

2012-01-11T07:14:00.002-06:00

CONTEST! SOMEONE WHO COMMENTS TODAY WILL WIN A $25 GIFT CARD TO EITHER AMAZON OR BN - YOUR CHOICE! AND...YOU WILL BE ENTERED TO WITH A KINDLE FIRE OR NOOK COLOR AT THE END OF THE CONTEST! WOOT!

The other day, I took my daughter ice skating. Now there is nothing remarkable about that unless you consider that she has never been on ice skates and I have not been in the last 10+ years. It may be closer to 15 years since I tried to get on the ice. And when I did it last time, I was not good.

I remember the laughing of my friends, the polite smiles of those who had to skate around me when I wiped out and was laying there, spread-eagled on the ice. I remember those jerky little kids who would skirt around me, effortlessly, as they missed my head by about two inches and sprayed that fine icy snow.

Yes, I remembered.

So I'm not sure why I thought it was a good idea to stop by the ice rink. We never would have thought of it, except we were out to see the Science Center and it's in the middle of this big park. There are ball fields, archery ranges, tennis courts and, yes, an outdoor rink.

Then again, air was crisp, they had a big fire going outside the rink and it smelled amazing. Steinberg Rink is this 1920's-era building in the middle of this wide, old copse of trees.

We laced up with confidence. We headed out to watch the zamboni as it finished. My daughter was excited and so was I.

Then we stepped onto the ice. Boy, is that stuff slick. We both wiped out almost immediately, right where everyone else was getting on. I had flashbacks of the ice skating trips of my youth. We scrambled up as the little kids did swoopy things around us, leaving us in their ice dust. We made it half-way around, half-clinging to the rail, before my daughter realized. "We're really not good at this. Both of us." She seemed fairly surprised, as I have been in the past, when these type of things don't always work out. I was glad she'd gone in confident, and tried to talk her off the wall.

She was not so keen on that. She'd seen what happened to me most of the time I got too far from the side - wipeout. She asked me if she'd fall and I wanted to lie. But I told her: Yes, if you get off the wall, you will fall. But you don't get off the wall, you won't be able to skate.

She thought about that. And watched me wipe out shortly after. We made it the rest of the way around the rink. She never did get off the wall and that was okay. But on the way home, she had a thought that made the whole trip worth it. She said, "Skating is kind of like everything, right?" I wasn't sure what she'd meant, but said, yes, it was kind of like life. She agreed and said, "Next time, I'm going to get off the wall."

I Married Mr. Fix-It

2012-01-10T00:01:00.002-06:00

By Robin "Red Hot" Kaye

And that’s not a bad thing. Okay, some times it’s not great either—I’ve been living in a construction site for most of my marriage, but when it comes to fixing things, my man excels.

We live in a hundred year old Victorian farmhouse in Maryland, and when we bought it, I was in Idaho trying to sell our place. Stephen had already moved to Maryland to start his new job, so when I saw the ad for a Victorian, I had him go look at it.

Stephen called me right back all excited. “It needs some work,” he told me, “but nothing I can’t handle. It’s got great bones, ten-foot ceilings, and a turret with a big witches peak.”

To be fair, I probably stopped listening after the turret and the witches peak part. What romance writer doesn’t want to live in a house with a turret? When he started talking builerspeak I most likely zoned out.

The house had five bedrooms, two baths, and was on over a half-acre right on Main Street—perfect. It was also within our price range, which should have given me pause. But all I could see were the ten-foot ceilings and the turret—that is, until we moved in.

Yeah, mistake number one was letting my husband, a cross between “Tim The Tool Man” Taylor and Bob the Builder, buy a house before I saw it.

I had expected a fixer-upper but what this place needed was a can of gasoline and a match!

Stephen opened the door, and the smell of mold was so bad I immediately started wheezing—probably from the combination of mold and shock. He had told me the house needed a new roof, but what he failed to mention was that the roof on our hundred-year-old Victorian, like everything but the bathrooms, was original. When it rained, it rained in the house—literally. It’s pretty bad when the dog goes to the five-gallon buckets that are placed all over the house to catch the rainwater before he checks his own water bowl.

Thankfully, he cleaned the place up, and installed all new appliances in the week and a half I was in Florida picking up the kids. He even surprised me by buying a whole house water filter. I’d have been happy to have one that sat below the kitchen sink, but no, he got the big one. The water filter had to be connected to the plumbing—mistake number two.

When Stephen installed the water filter with more power, the pipe it was supposed to connect to broke because it was so old. He replaced that pipe only to have the next break also. On and on it went until, in the span of two weeks, we had all-new plumbing. The electrical system was the same way.

Now I know replacing all the plumbing and wiring in the house is a lot of work, but really, the lights worked before, and all the toilets flushed—usually. But all I could see was that I was still living in a house where, when it rained you needed an umbrella inside—and no, I’m not exaggerating.

Over the next nine years, we raised and replaced the roof, replaced the heating system, installed all new windows and siding, moved and built two new bathrooms, and remodeled three of the five bedrooms. But the turret, the one room I’d been dreaming about since day one, was left unfinished.

I don’t know how many times I suggested he tackle it, and every time he had an excuse not to—until the day his mother called. She told him she was giving us a bunch of family heirlooms and that he’d better get the turret finished. He started it the next day. I spent nine years begging for him to work on the turret, and all it took was one phone call from his mother.

I would complain, but really, I can’t. He did the most amazing job. He built a tray ceiling in a decagon that mirrored the windows, added a chandelier with an ornate medallion, and rebuilt and refinished the pocket door. The room is almost done except for the hardwood floors…maybe when I get my next royalty check. But I have to say that it’s almost worth it.

I wonder if I can get his mother to call about the kitchen and the dining room?

I'm giving away a copy of my latest book, Wild Thing and a $25 Amazon or Barnes And Noble Gift Certificate to a lucky commenter in the US or CAN only who answers the following questions... Are you handy or married to Mr. Fix it? Would you rather remodel a house or have one built?

Congratulations! Winners from Jana DeLeon's drawings are:

Alison - $25 gift card

amf, Sarah S., and Angela Bount have all won autographed copies of my next Intrigue.

Please contact me through my website and we'll work out the mailing/etc.

Off To A Slow Start

2012-01-09T07:04:00.007-06:00

You ever had one of those days where if you were certain the dog wouldn't pee on the floor, you'd never have gotten out of bed? That's me today. I am a staggering comedy of errors.

It all began with a cold - seems everyone was sick around holiday time and I knew I'd end up with something eventually. I got a cold, which promptly turned into bronchitis as I am prone to all things respiratory. The bronchitis promptly set off my asthma so that breathing became an Olympic event. That means sleeping up right. Which means my back is now on fire. I have a chronic, inoperable back issue and the thing that irritates it worst is - wait for it - typing. Yeah, a writer with a back problem that's aggravated by typing. The thing that irritates it second worst is sleeping upright. So I finally had to take pain killers for the back in order to move and they have upset my stomach (I have an ulcer). I have to take medicine for allergies (to keep the respiratory situation from worsening) and those set off PVCs (an irregular heartbeat).

See, a staggering comedy of errors as the PVCs made me dizzy. So far this morning, I've already ran into two door frames and stubbed my foot on my desk. Then I filled the coffee maker with water and was about to turn it on when I realized there was no coffee in it. The dizziness also gives me a raging headache and as it's raining today, the Sheltie thinks he should bark every couple of minutes to warn me of the thunder.

Oh, and did I mention that I have to work today? Yeah, see my company, in their cheap wisdom, decided to cut our sick time in half, so now it only takes one major thing and it's all gone like the foot surgery I had last year - and yes, that's the foot I stubbed this morning). All I have to say is, they're getting pot luck and that's no one's fault but their own.

Despite the back/cold/breathing problems of the last two weeks, I've been working on my schedule for 2012. This year, I will release four books with Harlequin and at least one straight-to-digital, the first of a new humorous mystery series. All while still working full time. I know, I'm a glutton.

I've also decided that 2012 is the year of organization. We moved in a rush in July and things are just shoved into closets or boxes. I have got to pull everything out, judiciously donate things we don't need, and get everything else labeled and stored.

2012 is also the year of the social butterfly. Yes, I said it. I'm going to work harder staying in touch with you guys. For an introvert that hasn't paid much attention to social media, I'm sorta behind the curve. But I'll get there. I have a year, right? (BTW, when I first wrote this post, I said "behind the curse." Freudian slip, much?) :)

So now, I have homework for you: when you get a chance, please go Like my new Facebook Author Page. I will use that page to announce all coming books and for contests during the year. Here's a link:

Jana DeLeon Author Page

Last but not least, 2012 is the year I get into better shape, health-wise. I know, I said it. But the reality is, I'm not getting any younger, yet I want to work even harder. I have to be in good enough shape to do that. I'm not going to make drastic changes - just small changes along the way until I've created a way of life that is healthy and tolerable.

What about you? Any big plans for the new year? Did you accomplish everything you wanted to in 2011?

Write a post about your 2012 and you'll be entered to win a $25 gift card to bn/amazon - your choice. I am also giving away three copies of my February 2012 Intrigue release - so you can get it early, if you're selected. All posts enter you in the grand prize drawing for the Kindle or Nook.

Good luck!

Deadly - Draggin' - DeLeon

WINNER! Sandy, according to random.org, you're the winner of Amanda Brice's $25 gift card. Please email amandabrice (at) romancedivas (dot) com to claim it.

WINNERS!! Rebekah E. StephanieJS, Virginia, and catslady, according to random.org, you're the winners of Diana Layne's e-books. Please email dianalayne (at) yahoo (dot) com to claim them.

Guest blogger: Diana Layne!

2012-01-07T02:31:00.002-06:00

I'm thrilled to welcome my Ruby Sister Diana Layne to the Killer blog today in honor of her debut release, A Pirate's Proposal, a historical romance which will be out on January 18 from the Wild Rose Press, and her mainstream suspense/thriller, The Good Daughter, a mafia tale that is coming soon on Amazon. And since her guest blog is during our Killer contest, any comments left today will be extra entries for the Kindle or Nook grand prize!

So here's Diana!

___________________________

I NEED TO GET ORGANIZED…AGAIN!

Hi, everyone, I’m so happy to be here at Killer Fiction! Since we’re all friends, I have a confession for you: Organization does not come easy to me. I have to work at it and work hard…and if I’m not diligent, I find that once again clutter is controlling my life.

Unfortunately, I came out of a book editing fog right before Christmas and noticed that clutter had once again regained control.

I had just started my baking and hadn’t even begun wrapping. The mess of paper on the floor is what I dug out of the closet. I’m sure I put it up much more neatly last year. Didn’t I?

Now, in my defense, there are anywhere from 7 to 10 people living at my house at any one time. Even though I have six children, four of them are grown, and how so many ended up back home is a puzzle to me. Currently we are at 7 ¾ as my new granddaughter will be born in March.

I homeschool my youngest two (ages 7 and 9), I write, I shop and cook for the bunch. Others have pitched in with the cleaning, and I suspect this is where I’ve lost control. No one knows what current organizing system I’m using…mainly because I don’t know what system I’m using. I think coming up with a system needs to be a family affair now, right? Except they’re all in school and working and having babies…oh, when do we have time to get organized?

Still, if I can dig out some minutes in our day, (FlyLady says organizing can be done in fifteen minutes a day, more on her in a minute),there are tons of resources available. A long time ago I started with Confessions of an Organized Housewife. Yes, we were married to the house back then. At the time I only had three children, all under age five, and I ran three home businesses: housecleaning, daycare and teaching piano, and I also played piano for our church. Writing was only a longed-for, far-off dream to escape the hectic pace of life. With the hours in my day rapidly shrinking, this book was a sanity-saver back then; although, I will admit, it took me a while to get everything she proposed implemented. For example, one of her tips was to label each piece of your puzzles (like puzzle one, label all pieces, A, A, A, puzzle two, B, B, B, etc), then cut out the pictures on the lids and store pieces and picture in a plastic zip lock bag. I believe she then hole-punched the bags and stored them in notebooks. Well, we had a LOT of puzzles (this was before Internet) and I ran out of the alphabet. So then I started on numbers.

I also realized I was a piler not a filer so I tossed them all in a big bucket instead of the notebooks. (Are you a piler or filer? Take the quiz: here.)To this day, 25 years later, I still have those puzzles organized, and we made it through the years only losing a few pieces.

Once I got a system going, my life, and my family’s life, worked much better.
It seems like my organizing only lasts for so long though, and soon, I’m looking for inspiration to do it all again. This might be because at these times I’ve entered a new phase of life and need a new system. (Like homeschooling and writing and juggling a big family.)

If you Google, you’ll find plenty of organizing sites. I love organizing sites; I could read about organizing all day….

But seriously, two I absolutely love are FlyLady and Organized Home.

When I became a Flybaby, I diligently polished my sink every night prompting my husband, at one point, to question just exactly why I was doing that. (I believe his exact words were, “Why the hell do you keep cleaning the sink?”)

“I dunno,” I replied. “FlyLady said I had to.” And the FlyLady’s point is if you wake up to a clean, shiny sink, your day starts off better. The only problem with that is with so many people living here—10 at that time—I always woke up with dirty dishes in the sink. At least at my house, I guess dishes multiply like rabbits. I will admit that discouraged me so I abandoned FlyLady—at least until I get rid of every—oops, I mean until everyone moves.

As for the Organized Home site, lots of good articles and ideas and plenty of templates to print out for your home notebook, which is a notebook to help you keep things organized. I love making these notebooks, and there are templates for every kind of notebook you can imagine. After they’re made though, I tend to stare at them and turn the pages and admire their perfection. Use them though? Nah, not really.
Right now, what works best for me is my little day planner where I scribble everything down, even writing ideas. (This apparently is a piler tendency according to that test.) I decided at this time, I’m just going to try to hang on until the grown kids, spouses, and grandkids move back out, and then I’m renting a dump truck from the city and going through the house room by room and starting over. Just another year… :)

What about you? Do you have any great tips for staying organized?

Diana Layne writes in various genres, from historical romance to mainstream suspense. Her historical romance, Pirate’s Proposal will be released on January 18, 2012 from The Wild Rose Press. And her mainstream suspense, The Good Daughter, will be live on Amazon soon.

Four lucky commenters will receive an IOU for either Pirate’s Proposal or The Good Daughter (winners’ choice). For more info on each book please visit www.dianalayne.com

Pirate's Proposal The Good Daughter

New year...new baby...new works

2012-01-06T04:13:00.005-06:00

ATTENTION KIMA! YOU'RE THE WINNER OF LESLIE LANGTRY'S $25 GIFT CARD. SHE'll CONTACT YOU WITH DETAILS. CONGRATS!!!!!

It's a new year! I'm home on maternity leave with my newborn. And I'm spoiled.

Admittedly I had a very, shall we say, challenging first baby. They always say "sleep when your baby sleeps." Well, that wasn't possible with her. She literally would only sleep every 30 minutes, morning noon or night.

But this one is a really good sleeper. He gives us a 5-hr stretch at night, followed by a 4-hr stretch. (And this is despite being exclusively breastfed, too!) And he even sleeps well during the day, too, so I can write.

Yes, that's right...I'm writing!!! I seriously doubted I would be able to, but I am, and it feels great.

I'm finishing up POINTE OF NO RETURN, which is the sequel to CODENAME: DANCER. I'm also working on a short story set in that same world that will be published in a multi-author ebook anthology this spring.

I'm pretty excited about the short story actually, but it doesn't have a title. So leave me a comment today with a suggestion for a title, and you'll be entered to win a $25 gift card to either Amazon or Barnes & Noble (your choice).

Here's the deal...the story takes place during spring break. My heroine and her friends are dance students at a performing arts boarding school and they solve mysteries in their spare time. They've gone to Sedona, Arizona (home of the famous gorgeous red rocks) for a class trip. My heroine is still flirting with her love interest, who is an inspiring actor. He's not there because he's in LA auditioning for a part in the brand new vampire movie based on the popular Midnight series (ahem, Twilight). My heroine and her friends are obsessed with vampires, btw.

I like punny titles and I make reference to the dance theme in some way, so I'd like to stick to that motif.

Any ideas?

CONTEST! SOMEONE WHO COMMENTS TODAY WILL WIN A $25 GIFT CARD TO EITHER AMAZON OR BN - YOUR CHOICE! AND...YOU WILL BE ENTERED TO WITH A KINDLE FIRE OR NOOK COLOR AT THE END OF THE CONTEST! CHECK IT OUT AND COMMENT!

Winner!! Barbara Elness you are the winner of a $25 B&N gift card from Christie Craig's Twitter contest. Please email her at Christie(at)christie-craig(dot)com with your snail mail address.

What To Think Of 2012:

2012-01-05T01:45:00.000-06:00

OR:

2012 has just started and already I'm overwhelmed. I'm rushing to finish my 7th book which will also be my first self-published novel. I have a couple of scripts in the works that I may have a chance to pitch in the very near future as well as a few other novels (which I hope to publish the old fashioned way) that I need to flesh out and hand over to my new agent who is waiting not-so patiently for them. I've also started a new relationship. It feels odd to say the word, "relationship." I haven't used that word to describe any of my romantic dalliances for quite some time. I've said, "We're dating." or "We've been hanging out." But a relationship? Just saying the word gives me minor heart palpitations...although it makes me smile too.

In fact that's how I'm reacting to pretty much everything these days: I smile through my heart palpitations. Everything seems scary, exciting, new and fun. The uncertainty keeps me up at night but the opportunities give me enough adrenaline to keep me going (well, that and a lot of caffeine). I can't wait to see how things work out and yet I'm terrified to know. Will this be the year I'm able to take my writing career to new heights or will I need to find another day job? Will this relationship work out or will I end up swearing off commitments for eternity? I realize there's probably a middle ground that I'm ignoring but this feels like it's going to be a year of extremes.

All I'm sure of is that 2012 is going to be a big one for me...I just don't know what that means.

What about you? Do you have any hopes, dreams and/or fears for the this year? Will it be a year of prosperity or the year of the Mayan apocalypse? So many possibilities!

CONTEST! SOMEONE WHO COMMENTS TODAY WILL WIN A SIGNED COPY OF VOWS, VENDETTAS & A LITTLE BLACK DRESS! AND...YOU WILL BE ENTERED TO WITH A KINDLE FIRE OR NOOK COLOR AT THE END OF THE CONTEST! CHECK IT OUT AND COMMENT!

Kyra "Fashionista Fatale" Davis

New Year's Resolutions of the Mildly Damned.

2012-01-04T03:06:00.000-06:00

Some motivation required...

I bet you can guess what my New Year's Resolution is! Yeah, it's kind of obvious. Anyway, just before New Year's, Mr. Assassin and I joined a gym! I know, right?

So Tuesday, I came home from work, changed my clothes (aka squish into exercise bra and hunt for a pair of sweatsocks - I haven't seen any in 10 years) and announced to Mr. A (we always announce things in our house) that I was ready.

Mr. A couldn't hear me over his sniffling and sneezing. Apparently, he was sick. And apparently, I was going to the gym for the first time - all alone.

Of all the types of (torture) exercise out there, my favorite has always been the (torture devices) machines. I don't know why. Maybe it's because it's a system that's easy (enough for an idiot like me) to follow. I'd like to think it's because I'm interesting, but truth be told, I need total structure. And a line of machines in a logical progression works best (brainwashing) for me.

I did 30 minutes on machines (eternally grateful I didn't know anyone there - or have my kids on hand with their facebook-posting capabilities). Then I did 20 minutes on the treadmill. And believe it or not, I had no problem figuring out how each machine worked, but almost burst into tears trying to operate the treadmill. Treadmills are HARD.

I got home feeling sore and somewhat satisfied with myself. By the time bedtime came - I was mainlining ibuprofen (but I don't have a problem or anything). I threw in a couple tylenol PM as a chaser.

If I wake up in the morning and have 10% use of my limbs, I will consider this a success. I'll probably be typing my responses with my ear, but oh well.

What are your resolutions this year (what strikes terror into your heart)?

The Assassin

Kick Off the New Year!

2012-01-03T00:01:00.007-06:00

Yesterday's winner of the $25 giftcard is Brandie!!! Brandie email me at Christie (at) christie(-)craig.com
Thank you everyone who posted and sent well wishes!!!

Contest: Today’s blog is part of Killer Fiction’s Kick Off the New Year’s contest. So make sure you leave a post.

Contest announcements: Winner of my last Blog Post: Theresa N. Theresa email me at Christie(at)christie-craig.com.

A Free, 500-Dollar Junkyard Dog:

A heartfelt tale of woe with a silver lining

It’s been a tough month at the Craig house. It’s hubby again. No, he didn’t set anything on fire this time; he got sick. Really sick. And you guys know that while I tell funny stories about him all the time, he’s my real-life hero. So when he got sick, and I’m talking driving him to the emergency room sick, I was really scared. And really pissed. Because hubby didn’t want to go to the emergency room. Can someone explain why it’s so hard for a man to admit he’s sick? Never mind that he couldn’t breathe. He insisted it was just something that would pass. As if breathing isn’t that important, right? Men!!!

Anyway, after I finally got him to the hospital, they kept him for a few days, did a bunch of tests, but couldn’t find the problem. And when the symptoms disappeared, they sent him home with no diagnosis.

Well, a week later, the symptoms returned and were even worse this time. That led to another trip to the ER and then, believe it or not, yet another one. Both times I had to fight him to go. The last time I told the hospital staff, “You’re keeping him until you know what’s wrong with him.” Hey, I wasn’t really pawning him off, I was that worried.

However, the threat of having to keep him (maybe they’ve read my blog) made them dig a little deeper. They found something. Not a good something, either. A sonogram showed his heart was enlarged. It could be blockage. Serious blockage. Or it could be a virus. They did a heart cath to find out what was happening. It was the virus, but as the doctor told us, this is the best diagnosis of the two. In more than 50% of these cases, with the right meds, the heart will repair itself within a year. There’s just one little issue. Because his heart is “virus-stricken” and weak, he has to wear what they call a . . . life vest.

They can call it what they want, but I call it a battery-operated bra. About time the man knows what I go through trying to support my girls. Anyway, this bra is equipped with sensors that monitor his heart, and it has a ready-to-fire-at-any-moment defibrillator. I tease him about it endlessly. “Be good to me, or I’ll take your battery out.” Hey…humor is how we deal with things, remember?

So…I’m sure you guys are wondering how the $500 dollar junkyard dog comes into this story, right? I’m getting there. But first comes a little more woe. Do you remember the blog post about my son’s dog, Rex? I had him neutered because he suddenly became aggressive? And that seemed to take away the aggression issue. At least we thought it did.

His aggressive behavior happened again, only worse this time. After almost a month of in-and-out hospital stays with hubby, I hadn’t been very social. My friend called. She knew I’d had a rough few weeks and also knew sometimes just sharing a cup of something warm over a conversation with a friend can help relieve the stress.

She comes over, we’re in the entryway, Rex greets her happily, tail’s wagging and all is right in the world. And then it happened. Neither of us saw it coming. For some unknown reason, Rex attacked. While she was at the emergency room getting stitches, hubby and I were at the vet saying good-bye to our pet. As difficult as it was, there really wasn’t any option. Even the vet had warned us when we had him neutered, that some dogs are just aggressive by nature. It could have been so much worse, the injury could have been life-threatening. It could have been a child.

While it was the right thing to do, it hurt like the devil. Even with his flaws and his baffling unprovoked aggression issues, he was loved and brought us lots of joy. We all cried. My friend felt terrible, my son vowed to never love another animal. And when we walked out of the vet’s office, Hubby’s eyes filled with emotion, and he made me promise him that we would never, ever get another dog. I was so concerned about this stress on his weakened heart, that at that moment, I would have promised him the world.

And I wouldn’t have gone back on that promise. At least I didn’t think I would.

The very next day, our hearts were heavy; my son and hubby went to a junkyard to look at an old car, a Falcon Ranchero, they wanted to restore. I got the call about an hour later.

“We bought the car,” Hubby said.

“Good,” I lied. I mean, they really don’t need another car to work on. Isn’t two fixer-uppers enough?

“There’s something else I want to bring home,” Hubby said.

“Not another car, baby. We don’t have enough room.”

“Not a car,” he told me. “A dog.”

“You’re joking, right.” Really, I thought he was joking.

“No,” he answered in his dead serious tone.

“Aren’t you at a junkyard?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said.

The absurdity of this rolled over me like a dump truck. “You want to bring home a junkyard dog?”

“Yes.”

“No,” I counter, in my blunt voice.

“She’s a sweet junkyard dog,” he said.

Junkyard dog and sweet don’t belong in the same sentence. “No,” I repeated.

“She’s young.”

“No.”

“She’s pretty.”

“No.”

“She needs a home.” I could almost hear his heart breaking over the line and when I didn’t say anything, he added, “She needs someone to save her.”

Damn, that man always knows how to pull on my heartstrings, but a junkyard dog? Then it hit me. The man’s connected to a defibrillator. I can’t break his heart.

“Do you really want this dog?” I asked him.

“Yes,” he said.

“Is she housebroken?” I asked.

“I don’t think she’s ever been inside a house.”

“Does she have fleas and ticks?”

“Of course, she does. She’s a junkyard dog.”

“Are you really serious?” I asked.

“She’s free,” he said.

You do remember how cheap he is, right? I reminded him what they say about nothing being free. “She could cost as much as a couple of hundred dollars to take her to the vet.” I thought that would change his mind.

I was wrong, both about how much it would cost and about it changing his mind. So I threw in the towel. I mean, seriously, what were my choices? The man’s wearing a defibrillator.

A couple of hours later, son and hubby pulled up with this free junkyard dog. Of course, that was after they stopped at Whataburger and got three meal deals. One for the dog.

"You get to name her," hubby said. And believe me in this household that’s an honor. They never let me name an animal.

I petted her, cautiously. She accepted my hand guardedly. She’s covered in fleas and ticks. But he was right. She was sweet and soft as silk. And unlike any junkyard dog I’ve ever known, she’s completely meek and docile. I took one look at her and named her Lady.

Hubby and son bathed her and took her to the vet. An hour later, we had good news and bad news. She’s only seven to eight months old and doesn’t have mange or heartworms. That’s it for the good news. On the other hand, she was severely anemic, severely malnourished, has all sorts of worms, and had kennel cough.

And oh yeah, she’s no lady.

I don’t mean she’s a boy. I mean, she’d been playing with the boys. Yup, she was pregnant. However, the vet didn’t think she was healthy enough to carry the babies. As a matter of fact, the vet said she didn’t think she would have survived much longer. So after another few swipes of our American Express, we had ourselves a free, $500, spayed junkyard dog.

She’s adapting to her new lifestyle. At first, she ate food whole, chewing was optional—I mean what if someone decided to take it away from her? She now chews her food, enjoys her memory foam bed at night, and thinks sofas are much more comfortable that my hardwood floors. She much prefers gnawing on shoes or a pair of jeans to the sticks that she used to find outside. She finds it much more productive to steal the family pack of 96% ground round set out on the counter than to raid garbage-cans. (I still don’t know how she got on the counter, or how she ate all of it so quickly.) She decided the leftover grilled chicken on the table must have been hers. Why else would we have left it unattended for ONE minute? She’s certain that the cat food set out on the windowsill is hers, and not the kitties’. After one week, Lady has gained five pounds and hasn’t had one potty accident inside.

And the kitties? Well, she must have a little pointer dog in her, because she sees a feline, goes completely still, quietly raises and folds up one paw. Her tail goes straight and she stares at the varmint. When we don’t do anything, she then looks at us as if to say. “I found it, now you shoot it. Hey, I did my job. You do yours.” Yeah, she’s still adapting, with a few scratches on her nose, to living with the felines. Lady has gained five pounds and hasn’t had one potty accident inside.

But as she hangs out at her bra-wearing rescuer’s side, keeping him company, helping him as he hopefully makes a full recovery, I have to admit, she’s the best five-hundred dollars my hubby has ever spent. She needed us; but in truth, we needed her, too.

So what about you guys? Have you ever taken in a stray? Today, as part of the New Year’s contest, I’m giving away a $25 card to either Barnes and Noble or Amazon-the winner’s choice. So make sure you leave a comment. And remember, Jan. 15^th, we’re giving away either a Kindle or a Nook. So make sure you come back every day and leave comments. Also, check out the sidebar to see how you can get even more chances to enter.

What Do Readers Mean to an Author? EVERYTHING! by Diane Kelly

2012-01-02T00:01:00.002-06:00

When I first began writing a decade ago, I did it for selfish reasons. My children were young then, but finally old enough to give me a few minutes to myself on occasion. Though I loved being a wife and mother (and still do), I felt as if my personal identity had been consumed by my roles as “mommy” and “wife” and “dog walker/litter box cleaner.” Writing was my escape not only into another place, but also into another identity as I lived vicariously through my heroines. At that time, becoming a published novelist seemed like a pipe dream, so giving any thought to people who might read my work would have felt presumptuous. Who was I to think someone might actually want to read the silly stories I’d written?

Over the ensuing years, I became more serious about my writing. I took creative writing classes, attended meetings and conferences hosted by writers organizations, and read virtually every book about writing and publishing that I could get my hands on. I entered dozens of writing contests, my heart breaking early on when my work scored low, but later soaring when my work began earning fairly consistent high scores. Somewhere along the line, that “pipe dream” evolved into a goal. I was bound and determined that one day my books would appear on bookstore shelves.

My debut novel came out two months ago and the time since has been an exciting whirlwind of activity - my first reviews, my first book signing, my first “guest appearance” at a book club. It’s all been so much fun! But my favorite part by far has been connecting with readers. It puts me on cloud nine when someone who has read my book tells me how much they enjoyed it. I realize now that, though I began writing for my own reasons, what will keep me writing is my readers and that wonderful feeling of connecting to other people through my stories.

What is it about a book that really makes you feel a connection to the story or the author? Is it the characters? The themes? The action? The author’s voice? A combination of these factors? Something else entirely?

Join in the conversation today and you’ll be entered not only in a drawing for a $25 Barnes & Noble e-giftcard to be given away at 9:00 pm central time tonight, but you’ll also be entered in a drawing for our grand prize of the winner’s choice of a Nook Color or Kindle Fire (or equivalent value giftcard to Barnes & Noble or Amazon). Details are on the sidebar. Be sure to email me at diane@dianekelly.com if you’ve referred a commenter or with the link to your blog, tweet, or Facebook note regarding our contest so I can make sure you receive your extra entries.

Thanks for visiting us here at Killer Fiction, and good luck in our contest!

Diane Kelly is the author of the Death & Taxes romantic mystery series. Her debut novel - Death, Taxes, and a French Manicure - is in bookstores now. Book #2 - Death, Taxes, and a Skinny No-Whip Latte - will be release on March 1st and is available for pre-order. Visit Diane and read excerpts at www.dianekelly.com

New Year's Resolutions

2011-12-30T03:00:00.001-06:00

I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas this year! I had a fabulous time. Lots of family, lots of food, lots of gifts. The Man and I went a little bit overboard with presents for the kids this year, but it was totally worth it on Christmas morning. This was the first year that we let my 11 year old be an “honorary elf”, and he loved the job. My 2 year old now adds “Merry Miss-mas” to the end of everything he says. I have a feeling we’ll be hearing it well into June.

In addition to the items Santa left under the tree for me this year, we also got another amazing gift… we found out that we’ll be welcoming a new baby into the family soon! I’m due in July, so anyone who has baby names suggestions, lay em on me. (We’re so bad at names. My 2 year old was “little buddy” for the first week of his life before we settled on something.)

In light of our upcoming addition, I’ve been sitting down and composing my list of New Year’s resolutions. Here’s what I’ve got so far:

1. Say “no” more often. This year I calculated that I’ve spent at least two whole months working on writing related “extras” (guest blogs, promo activities, interviews, etc.), and not working on my next book. This year I know I’m going to be shorter on time than usual… at least after July… which means I’m going to have to use it wisely when I have it. As much as I love doing all the extras, I’m going to make myself say no more often.

2. Keep a clean office! I am not one of those people that can write in a messy space. When my surroundings are unorganized, my thoughts get unorganized, too. And for the last four months my office has been in a constant state of disarray. At the moment, it’s a dumping ground for discarded furniture from throughout the house and unpacked moving boxes. Come January, cleaning it up is my first project, and keeping it clean will be my challenge.

3. Make sleep a priority. I know, I can hear some of you laughing at me already. “She’s having a new baby and expects to get more sleep?” But the truth is that everything else in my life seems to come before sleep for me. I’ll short myself on sleep to sneak in more writing time, or to sneak in more alone time with The Man after the kids go to bed, or to have a few minutes to myself before the kids get up. But the truth is, I’m always exhausted and never quite getting enough sleep. I read a study once that said the people who live the longest get an average of 9 hours of sleep a night. If that’s true, I’m so screwed. So, I’m vowing to get more sleep whenever I can.

4. Don’t worry , be happy. Yes, I totally stole that from Bobby McFerrin, but it’s going to be my no-stress motto this year. I learned some very valuable lessons in 2011. Like, I can extend a book deadline by 6 months, and the world doesn’t actually come to an end. I can experiment with different genres, and my readership won’t instantly abandon my en masse. I can even forget to blog one day (sorry, ladies!), and the wrath of the writing gods does not rain down upon me. Really, there’s nothing all that important that’s it worth the mental and physical stress we tend to put on ourselves about it. So I’m going to try to worry less and be happy with whatever the outcome is more.

Anyone else have some resolutions that they’d like to publicly announce? (Because once you write it here, I will hold you to it!) Any fun New Year’s plans? Whatever they are, I hope enjoy saying good-bye to 2011 and welcoming in 2012! See you all next year…

~Trigger Happy Halliday

P.S. Don’t forget to come join us for our super spectacular New Year’s bash here next week as we’ll be giving away prizes every day, plus a fabulous ereader grand prize! Details are on the sidebar à

Mad for Mad Men

2011-12-29T04:45:00.000-06:00

Between my day job, writing, and the demands of family, I don't often get much time to watch TV. Most of my television viewing comes from DVDs. So, when my daughter asked me to pick up copies of the Mad Men seasons for her when they went on sale, I took a peek at Season One and decided to put it in and watch it while I was sorting and shredding papers.

Big mistake.

I got hooked.

I love the fashions of the sixties. And while I would never give up my jeans and hoodies, seeing the women in Mad Men dressed to the nines made me a bit nostalgic--and yearning for a more glamorous time. The fabrics are colorful, the designs smart and classy. And it got me wondering if I could pull off these fashions like the women in the show do. Unfortunately--or maybe fortunately--we'll never know.

As a writer, I am also impressed by the quality of the writing. I can't tell you how many times I've heard a line of dialogue and thought, "Oh, wow! That writer nailed it!"

The acting isn't bad either.

I've finished Season Four. And while there have been times I've wanted to toss something at one of the characters on the TV screen, I am still very glad I put that first DVD in the player.

What TV show is a must-see for you? Any show you can't miss or is a must DVR?

While I have you here, may I take this opportunity to wish you a safe, happy, and prosperous New Year filled with wonderful books and incredible stories!

They say what you do on New Year's, you do the year-round. I plan to make certain I find some time to write.

~Bullet Hole~

I thought I could do it

2011-12-28T03:00:00.000-06:00

They say you learn something new every day. Well recently, I learned I'm not a plumber. Now some of you may have already realized that. I sure wish I had.

Case in point: I'd been after my husband for several weeks to fix a running toilet. It's a waste of water, it's annoying and worst of all, when the house is quiet at the end of the day, it becomes that niggling thing that makes me feel like we haven't quite gotten enough done.

So the other night, when the house was quiet and all I could hear was the blasted toilet running, I decided to do something about it. It's just plumbing, right? Pipes and ball plungers are logical. They follow the rules of physics. I can reason my way through it (or so I tell myself). And just because it's 11:50 p.m. doesn't mean I can't start a new project.

I went and got tools from the basement, I put on a baseball hat (not sure how that was supposed to help, but I did it), I lifted the back lid and started fiddling. Now I am proud to say I figured out the problem. The little tube with the ball on the end needed to be out of the water and the water would stop running. But that's where my expertise ended. How to get the little ball to stay out of the water? Holding it up all night wasn't an option. See? Logical.

While figuring out what to do next, I bent the little tube back, just to see how far it could go. I was curious. Don't you want to know how far it can go? No, you don't. Snap! The tube broke. Then the one attached broke. Water shot up to the ceiling. It was like a geyser. Water shot out toward me, in case I wasn't soaked enough. My husband was out of town (or else he would have talked me out of this at the baseball cap stage). I call him to ask him how the heck I was supposed to shut off the water. He told me about the valve on the side of the commode (proving yet again that I'm not a plumber).

The bathroom is filling with water faster than the Titanic. I'm on my hands and knees, trying to turn the knob, only it will not budge (no doubt fastened by someone much stronger than me). I'm reduced to begging a toilet knob to turn while scrambling through my mental rolodex to decide which neighbor to wake at midnight in order to turn the knob in a bathroom that now has at least a half an inch of water on the floor.

Finally, it turns. The water ceases. I'm soaked to the bone and the toilet is way, way broken. I clean everything up, thank my frantic husband, take a shower and ponder just why I thought I was a plumber in the first place.

Want to know my theory? I think it has something to do with the fact that writers are curious people. The same thing that makes me want to ride with Harley bikers and their dogs is the same thing that made me want to explore the intricacies of toilet maintenance. If the tube hadn't snapped, I might have succeeded (Don't tell my husband I said that. He's still a bit horrified.)

And while things didn't work out the other night, I don't think I want to change. Well, until the next home crisis.

Preparing for War

2011-12-26T07:46:00.002-06:00

Or the new year - same thing.

2012 is upon us in a week. Are you a goals person? Do you make charts and spreadsheets plotting your mini-destinations during the year? I do. I will be making up my work schedule for 2012 this week, trying to fit in all the things I need to do and some of the things I want to do. It's going to be a very busy 2012, but hopefully, a lot will get done.

Something I started working on last week is using a novel-writing software. I've been thinking I need to try something to see if I can better organize my fiction writing, especially writing series books. Flipping through every page of a document to find the color of car someone was driving is simply not the most efficient method to write.

So I downloaded a trial of Scrivener for PC. And I have to say, that I'm really enjoying it. It's simple to use the basic things and as long as I do the work of taking proper notes, it will allow me to have all my research and info right there on the same screen I'm writing the document on. Scrivener also allows you to break up your work into chunks - like chapters or even scenes. As I sometimes write books out of order, that's really cool. I can write a random scene and then drag and drop it later on where I want it to fit in the book. It also has a corkboard (printable) with little stickies that have a synopsis of each chapter written on them. So you can see your book at a glance.

Are you planning on incorporating any productivity tools into your new year? If so, what are they? I may want them, too. :)

Deadly DeLeon

2011-12-24T00:01:00.001-06:00

Murder, Mayhem and Mama, my new ebook, is now up and available exclusively at Barnes and Noble. It won't be available elsewhere until February. So go to Barnes and Noble to get it now!

I am also running a Twitter contest with a chance to win a $25 Barnes and Noble gift card. Just look for the hashtag #Christie_Craig and retweet the message. You could be a winner!! Then check back here at Killer Fiction on January 6 when I announce the winner.

Guest Blog: Barbra Annino

2011-12-23T01:13:00.000-06:00

Happy holidays! My gift to you is a great guest blog from author Barbra Annino. She's giving away 3 copies of her e-book, so be sure to leave a comment and you're entered to win!

Take it away, Barbra!

_________________________________________

I spent a great deal of time with my Irish grandmother and her sisters when I was young. Anyone familiar with the culture of the Emerald Isle knows it is steeped in superstition and supernatural phenomenon. Ghost stories weren't told around a dim campfire at our house. They were shared over coffee, cake and Marlboros. They were passed along like a saltshaker, not to be feared--"because the dead cannot hurt you, only the living can"--but to be revered as tiny lessons gifted to us by the dearly departed.

I used to watch the women in my family share recipes and swap stories that would scare the pants off my friends, but these women weren't fazed by the shocking tales they told. Often I would imagine--listening to them wax on about the prom date that disappeared through the cemetery bars as they whipped up batches of fresh baked bread--that they were witches implementing spells into their food.

And perhaps they were. Because I believe there's a little bit of witch in every woman. Although the potions may only be as exotic as a Cabernet and the spell may come in the form of a kind ear and chocolate layer cake, still, there is strength within us that can transcend any problem. There's something magical about that.

I wanted to create a character who had that kind of strength and that special form of magic. Stacy Justice, the protagonist in my gemstone series, is a strong woman who worries more about her family than her boyfriend. She's more interested in excelling at work than the latest shoe sale and above all, she tries to do the right thing. Which isn't always easy when your family is driving you crazy, your grandmother insists you are witch with a high calling and oh yeah, someone is trying to kill you.

The series is laugh-out-loud fun with a mix of mystery, magic and paranormal fantasy all rolled into one. You can learn more at my website: http://www.barbraannino.com. Or visit my Facebook page Barbra Annino.

Opal Fire, Stacy Justice Book One
Reporter Stacy Justice did not expect to be set on fire that night, but being raised by witches prepares one for life's little surprises. In fact, she isn't the least bit shocked when her cousin is accused of arson, or when her divorced grandparents sign up for a marriage retreat, or even when her own boyfriend hauls her off to jail. But when a decades-old corpse is discovered within the walls of her cousin's bar, even Stacy is rattled. Now, someone wants her dead and she finds herself dodging angry motorists, exploding chickens and a very creepy man who lurks around every corner. As she begins to unearth long-buried secrets, Stacy learns that even those closest to her have something to hide- and she's about to discover a destiny she never imagined.

As a special gift to readers of this blog, I'm offering three copies FREE. Just leave a comment and random.org will choose the winners. Delivery of ebooks via a Smashwords coupon.

Sincerely,
Barbra Annino

Hanukkah - A Small Holiday That's A Big Deal

2011-12-22T10:06:00.000-06:00

This week my son and I are celebrating Hanukkah. We make a big deal out of it. We collect menorahs (ever year since he was two we've gotten a new one), we play dreidel, we decorate the house, I make latkes and blintzes, he gets a gift every night and we try to do something special every day of the 8 day holiday.

Most people would say that as Jewish holidays go, Hanukkah is a pretty minor one and the only reason to make a big deal out of it is because you feel the need to compete with Christmas. They would also say that Hanukkah is a celebration of "The miracle of the light." See (as the story goes) back in the day some bad guys destroyed our temple and when we got it back we started to get it together again and inside that temple there was this sacred lamp that only had enough oil left to last 1 day but it was going to take 8 days to make more oil for it and then, miracle of miracles the oil that should have only lasted 1 day lasted for 8. That's why we light a candle on the menorah every night for 8 nights.

There is some truth to all that. Hanukkah isn't close to being a High Holiday and all the fuss about Christmas is...inspiring. But that's not my main motivation for making Hanukkah one of the most important holidays of the year within my household. It's also true that while the Holiday is nicknamed the, "Festival Of Light," that piece of the story is really a very small part of what we're celebrating and when rabbis talk about the holiday they usually only spend a few minutes talking about the oil. The greater message of the holiday is what makes me love it so much. Much like with Passover the overall themes of Hanukkah are as follows:

1) Survival
2) Perseverance
3) Freedom
4) Standing up for what's right

However unlike with the story of Passover there isn't a lot less divine intervention within the story of Hanukkah. This time, God doesn't give a Jewish leader assurances of success or tell him or her what the right thing to do is and yet the heroes of the story do it anyway. In the beginning of the Hanukkah we learn that the Jews were living as a minority group within a society that was completely tolerant of their religion and allowed them to take an active part of public life. And then there was a regime change and the practice of Judaism was outlawed. The Jews fought back and although they were greatly outnumbered they defeated the mighty and seeming superior army of our suppressors. Jews don't celebrate war which I think is why there is so much focus on the lamp but realistically we are celebrating a victory. A victory of right over wrong. The implication of the story is that societies should allow everyone to practice the religion they want to practice assuming it's not physically hurting anyone. We're told that even when we know that the odds are against us we should stand up for that right. And we celebrate the survival of the Jewish people.

I like that. So yes, we go all out for Hanukkah, so much so that I may have one of the few Jewish children who doesn't envy Christmas. But he also understands the message of the holiday and regardless of how religious or secular you are it's hard not to see how Hanukkah is kinda a big deal.

--Kyra "Fashionista Fatale" Davis

Merry Holidays!

2011-12-21T02:07:00.000-06:00

It's just a few days until Christmas. Is my shopping done? No. Am I at all organized? Not really. Does it bother me? Meh. I can wing it. I've never really been one of those people who gets worked up over the holidays. Maybe it's my low blood pressure...perhaps it's my laid back attitude...or maybe it's the vodka.

Christmas will happen and everything will be where it's supposed to be. My kids will be happy with what Santa brings them. My mom will love the mittens and hat I'm knitting her. We don't have overlapping schedules of things to do and places to be. All is right with the world.

I even got my present early. I got a dead tree removed. Oh, I didn't ask for that. It was something we were always going to do. The cedar tree had been hit by lightning a few summers ago. The top was sheared off and has long since been sliced up and burned in our fireplace. But the bottom half of the tree, the jagged, dead wood that loomed 40 feet over the house, that was still there, threatening to fall on every adorable elementary school kid who walks by our house twice a day.

A week ago, I was home with my son - who was sick. This guy rings the doorbell and introduces himself as "Spider." Spider was in the neighborhood - he motioned to the flatbed out front loaded with logs. He noticed our tree and said he'd give us a good quote. I gave the card to Mr. Assassin.

Who called me yesterday and said, "Oh yeah, and Spider is coming over to take down the tree for $300 today." I was pulling out of the driveway on a stealth mission to buy my daughter's presents (I said I had to go get tampons - she didn't want to go with me after that). Spider walks up to the car with a grin.

Spider is probably in his thirties, and weighs maybe 98 lbs. He's got long, stringy hair, a huge slurpee in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

Him: "Hey, man! I'm here to do the tree thing."
Me: "I can see that. Give me a minute to tell the kids (to lock the doors) not to let the dogs out (find their cell phones and take the safety off the flamethrower)."
Him: "That's cool."

I went in to make sure the kids were okay with a dude named Spider cutting down the tree in the yard with me gone. They assured me they were and locked up as I left. Meg, the teenager, insisted I go get "you know...that weird stuff," as she wiggled her eyebrows meaningfully.

The tree is down, just like Spider said. The kids were fine. They didn't even realize he was out there. And I got some of my shopping done. That is my Christmas miracle. At least, that's how I see it.

Peace,
The Assassin

Does Mama Know Best?

2011-12-20T00:01:00.003-06:00

Does your mother tell you who to date? Does she meddle in your life? Has she embarrassed you in front of your friends? Has she ever made you feel . . . crazy? Believe me, I know all about mom’s sticking their noses in one’s life. Everyone’s love life. You see, I’d jumped on a plane heading to my mom’s in California to escape a bad divorce. I’d been in the sunny state for less than eight hours when Mom has this tall handsome fellow show up on her doorstep. Can you believe that the day before she’d actually whipped out my old wedding photos to show this man my picture? But holy moly, the last thing I wanted was another man in my life. Ahh, but all I can say is, thank goodness, this handsome fellow was patient, and oh, yes, I’m forever grateful that in this one instance, my mama did know best. You see, this handsome fellow, Steve Craig, turned out to be a keeper. Not that all of my mama’s advice worked out so well. She liked the first husband, too. And there was the dye job she gave me that couldn’t be reversed and led to me wearing a hat for two months. And I can remember the fashion advice that, thank goodness, I was smart enough to avoid.

But, no matter how bad my mother is, or yours for that matter, she can’t begin to compete with Cali’s mom in Murder, Mayhem and Mama, my book being released electronically today. Cali’s mother wins all the meddling-mom awards. You see, Cali’s mom actually comes back from the dead to play match maker and to well… try to prevent her daughter’s dead-beat ex from hurting Cali. No, Cali’s mom’s not appearing in a puff of smoke wearing chains, but she does appear chain smoking in Cali’s dreams. And those dreams seem just a bit too real.

And yes, Cali’s mom is right about her ex-boyfriend being a weasel, and her mom’s desire to neuter the man, isn’t too far from what Cali would like to do herself. But now, her dead mom is pushing Cali toward the sexy detective, a very annoying sexy detective who thinks Cali still has a thing for the ex. Never mind that she learns the ex is now being accused of murder. Why would Cali want anything more to do with that guy? She would have never gotten involved with the man if she hadn’t been so stressed out about her mom’s dying. And why would Cali start falling for the cop who can be a bit of jerk? Surely, Mama doesn’t know best.

Or does she?

Now most mothers aren’t that bad. They may offer advice that lands you with perm that makes you look like a girl in the sixties, or a color that looks like it belongs in box of crayons and not on your head. They might fix you up with a guy they like because he has a nice career, but is short on personality and hair. But they don’t try to run your life—especially from the great beyond. But maybe there are exceptions. Has your mother, dead or alive, ever tried to play match maker for you? Has she tried to break up your relationship with a guy because he had one too many tattoos? (Granted in Cali’s case, her mother had her reasons!) So, I want to know, does your mother meddle in your life? Tell me a mother meddling story, good or bad, and I’ll chose one poster to win a $25 gift card to either Barnes and Noble or Amazon.

Check out the book trailer for Murder, Mayhem and Mama at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xOjXesDUptM,

SCROOGE AND MARLEY by Diane Kelly

2011-12-19T00:01:00.010-06:00

When I watch one or another movie version of A Christmas Carol, I’m always struck by the fact that Ebenezer Scrooge hasn’t taken the time to change the sign for his business from “Scrooge & Marley” despite the fact that his business partner, Jacob Marley, has been dead for years. Although the failure to change the sign is a subtle indicator of Scrooge’s penny-pinching ways, it’s still creepy to have a long-dead man’s name hanging over the door of the business.

The people in our lives bring out different aspects of our personality. Some bring out the best in us, others the worst. Given that Scrooge is visited by the ghost of Jacob Marley wearing a long, heavy chain forged through a life of exploitation and greed, I imagine that Scrooge and Marley were of the latter variety, feeding off each other’s greed and insensitivity, together creating an evil, selfish synergy.

I can’t help but wonder - might Ebenezer have been a better man if he’d had a different business partner? What if Scrooge’s partner had been a different Marley?

Bob Marley would have made the perfect business partner. While he might have smoked the profits, he’d have happily shared a spliff with the uptight Ebenezer and perhaps gotten the old coot to loosen up a bit.

The golden lab from Marley and Me would’ve made a great partner for Scrooge, too. Hard to stay in a crabby mood with an adorable puppy bounding around and licking your toes.

I'm lucky to have a wonderful husband who brings out my goofy side and makes me feel anything is possible. I also have some wonderful friends who inspire my creativity and imagination. Who brings out the best in you? Let's chat about it!

Have a wonderful holiday season!

Diane Kelly is the author of the Death and Taxes humorous mystery series. Visit Diane at www.dianekelly.com.

Winner!!!

2011-12-18T12:53:00.002-06:00

The winner of the free e-book and a copy of any of my backlist is Jbrayweber. Email Jbrayweber at Christie (at) christie(-)craig(.)com

Contest! Contest! Contest!

2011-12-17T00:01:00.003-06:00

Today, Susan Muller is giving away an e-copy of her book, The Secret on Forest Bend. And to make it even better, I’m also giving the winner a copy of any of my backlist. So make sure you leave a comment to be entered to win a copy of Susan’s and any of my books. It can be my romances or my YAs.

I have a treat for you guys today. I would like to introduce you to a dear friend and another writer who’s friendship is proof of just how small our world has become. It’s also proof that when the universe wants you to meet someone, it will keep throwing you together until you finally connect.

Susan Muller is my walking buddy, who isn’t walking right now. (You’ll read more about that in her blog.) Susan and I met at my local chapter’s Romance Writers of America meeting. Well, that’s where I thought we met. Shortly later, she informed me that we’d met earlier. That we had waved and spoken while I was walking in her/my neighborhood. Cool, we lived in the same neighborhood. I had to apologize and told that when I walk, I’m in my own little world and seldom recognize anyone.

We shortly learned that she lived on the street back behind my house. However, little did we know at the time, we had other connections. I was in her backyard and peeked through her fence and said, “Damn! That’s my backyard.” We’d shared backyard fences for almost 20 years and didn’t know it. Yup, now we can put a ladder against the fence and have a conversation. We’ve actually passed manuscripts, oranges, crawfish, and fresh grown tomatoes over that fence. Ahh, but it gets even stranger. Because not too long after we started walking, she introduced me to her dog. Right then, I knew Susan’s version of how we first met was as wrong my had been. The woman, didn’t just live behind me, she’d been in my house. I’d saved her from a heartache and she didn’t even know it.

Years earlier, while I was walking, a black lap who looked just like my black lab--even had the gray snout and everything--came up to me on my walk. For a second, I thought it was my Jake. But he was a tad bigger than my ol’ boy. Nevertheless, the dog decided I was a sucker and he followed me home. Not wanting the animal to continue to the main road that had a lot of traffic, I took him into my house. I looked at Jake and the other dog side by side, and darn if other than a few extra pounds on her dog, the two dogs were identical. I called the number on the tag. The owner quickly came to pick up the dog. While I didn’t recognize Susan as the dog owner, I recognized her dog. So actually, our lives were connected even before we knew it. Who knew she was also a writer? Well, all I can say is that it’s a small world. And I’m glad after several times of having our paths cross, we finally took the message the universe was telling us and became friends. So here’s Susan, and a bit about her book.

*********

I’ve been thinking a lot about walking lately. Mostly because I can’t. Several weeks ago I developed a stress fracture in my foot. The doctor instructed me to stay off my feet and wear a lovely black boot with Velcro straps that cost as much as a pair of Jimmy Choos. The next week was my high school reunion. Show of hands here, how many think I wore the black boot to my reunion? Of course I didn’t. Which may be why I still can’t walk without limping.

But limping isn’t my problem, walking is. For years, I’ve worked out plot holes and writers block while walking my dog around the neighborhood. Buster is a 120 pound black lab, and he was well into middle age when I found him five years ago. At first we walked about forty-five minutes, but as he aged we cut it down to thirty minutes, then fifteen. The last time I took him around the block, I had to sit on the curb and let him rest.

Luckily, on one walk about a year and a half ago, I passed Christie, walking the other way. Shortly later, we’ve walked together four or five days a week. We walk twice as long and twice as far and I’m half as tired, because Christie can tell a good story. You knew that, right? After all, she writes three to four books a year. You’ve probably heard her mattress story, and the one where her husband set the lawnmower on fire. Those are just the stories she can tell in public. We brainstorm and bounce ideas off each other and she’s improved my writing 110%. Since I’ve been sitting with my foot propped up, my writing output has slowed to a trickle. I may never get this next book finished. I miss walking with Christie.

Buster’s way too old to go for power walks these days, but he does love a ride in the car. When Buster got too old to jump in the back of our Explorer, and too fat for us to lift him, my husband bought a smaller car. Oh, he’ll tell you that he bought the car for better gas mileage, but I’ve known the man for many years, and he bought it for the dog. Even with the smaller car, we have to back up to the curb and help Buster in.

In my novel The Secrets on Forest Bend, the hero, Adam, has a yellow cat named Rover. Rover was the terror of the neighborhood when he decided to adopt Adam seven years ago. He’s bigger than most dogs and twice as mean. Lately, Rover has developed diabetes and Adam must give him a shot twice a day, something that’s not always convenient. Adam’s a big, tough police detective, and he claims Rover is just his roommate, but you read the following excerpt and tell me, if this isn’t love, what is?

The sky was still dark when Adam rose on one elbow and nuzzled Jillian’s ear. “You’re going to hate me, but I have to go.” He nibbled her shoulder and felt himself come awake again.

She turned to face him, sleepy-eyed. “Go? Can’t you leave for work from here?”

How bad would it be if Rover missed one round of medication? He lifted the sheet and gazed at her body. Damn he wanted to stay longer, but if he didn’t leave soon he wouldn’t be able to stand up. “No. I have to give my cat a shot.”

*******

What about you? What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done for an animal?

Check out more about Susan on her Web site: www.susancmuller.com.

And here’s here back cover blurb. It’s an excellent read, guys. So make sure you snag your own copy.

Another day . . . another dead body.

When Detective Adam Campbell learns that a WWII gun is connected to several murders he’s investigating, he hopes that tracking down the killer will be as easy as tracing the gun’s history. When he meets Jillian Whitmeyer, the last known owner of the weapon, the case becomes anything but simple.

Just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it isn’t real.

Adam soon learns that people who get close to Jillian have a bad habit of turning up dead. Jillian claims that the spirit of her sister, accidentally killed with that same gun, is responsible for the deaths. She warns Adam that he is likely to become the next victim. Adam’s been a lousy judge of women in the past and this one’s obviously a nut case. Or is she? How does a just-the-facts detective deal with a ghostly serial killer and the sexy-as-hell sister she won’t set free?

Self-Publishing – what works, what doesn't

2011-12-16T03:00:00.003-06:00

First off, I have to share some super exciting news… my latest self-published book FEARLESS IN HIGH HEELS hit #2 on the Barnes & Noble Bestseller list! I'm absolutely thrilled, as this is the greatest “bestseller” achievement I’ve ever had. You can bet that High Heels book #7 is totally in the works for next year now!

(P.S. The book will be available on December 26th in all other outlets, including Kindle and print versions! Be sure to sign up for my newsletter on my website as I'll be sending special offers to subscribers soon!)

Okay, now on to the real blog post…

For the last few posts I’ve been talking about self-publishing and what sort of numbers I’ve seen from this. So, today I want to talk about what I’ve done that’s worked (or not worked) to get those sales numbers!

1. The number one thing that I believe has helped my sales grow has been having a backlist of books. As I mentioned in my last post, when I had only a couple of short works available for sale, my sales were moderate – enough that I was interested in doing more – but they didn’t really explode until I had a backlist of several books available. I know this probably sounds a little discouraging to authors who only have one book ready to self-publish, but my advice in that situation is that you NOT spend a lot of time on promo. Instead, take all that time and put it into writing the next book. I guarantee it will go further toward getting you more sales.

But even if you only have one book out…

2. Make it look professional! I cannot stress enough how important hiring a proofread or editor is. Readers will not be more forgiving of self-published books having typos than they will of publisher produced ones. I’ve gotten an email from a reader before who claimed my book was “riddled with typos”. When I politely asked her if she could point them out, she pointed out… two. Two typos in the whole book. Which to me doesn’t sound too bad. But to a reader, that is a big deal! Even one is a big deal and says “amateur” to a reader. So make sure that you have someone to watch your back in this area, and make sure that they are good at what they do. Ask around for recommendations, and I would always ask a proofer to do a few sample pages for you first, so that you can be sure they are actually going to catch everything.

3. Disclose word count! If you’re writing a full length novel, and it is comparable to a print length (generally 80-100K ), you can get away with not telling reader the word count. But if you’re writing a novella, novelette, or short story, disclose your word count right in the product description. There are so many full length books being sold for $.99 now that readers sometimes feel cheated when they pay $.99 and then find out they’ve bought a short story. Or in other cases some readers have a different idea of what “short” is than the author. This is one place where bad reviews happen to me all the time – not for story issues, but because the reader wanted a longer piece. So definitely make sure that you give readers as much info up front about length as possible. And speaking of reviews…

4. Good reviews are like gold! Especially if you are a new author or only have one or two books available, reviews equal sales. Readers really do read them and really do judge a book by its star rating. I see sales plummet when my star ratings go down on my books. This is a tough area for most authors, because bad reviews will happen, no matter how good your book is, and there is nothing you can do about it. (Though, if you do get inappropriate reviews or spoiler reviews, you can report them and often BN or Amazon will remove them.) But you can do something about getting more good reviews! There are tons of bloggers out there that review self-published books now, and even the ones that don’t have large followings on their blogs will often agree to post their review on BN or Amazon when they write it. I would contact as many of these as possible! Especially reviewers that are just starting out or maybe don’t have huge followings yet, as they will be most likely to want to a) review you book well (because they want to develop good relationship with authors, right?) and b) have time to review books from newer authors. One thing I would NOT recommend doing is having all of your family members give you reviews. It becomes obvious quickly, and that can be a real turn off to readers.

5. Price your books right! Pricing is a really interesting issue. Some authors swear by the $.99 rule and others are flirting with $6 now. My experience with this is that I usually get more sales at $.99… but I make a lot more money at $3.99. My personal take on pricing is that if you start out too low, you have nowhere to go. I’d err on the side of being too high, as you can always lower your prices and readers won’t mind. If you start out at $.99 then suddenly decide you want to go to $3.99, readers are going to be a little less happy about that sort of change. I honestly think for a full length novel, $3.99-$5.99 is an appropriate price range. This is still lower than most published produced books, which is a nice discount for the reader, but not so low that it a) smells of desperation or b) cuts into your profits. I do regularly put my books on sale for a limited time at lower price points. But the purpose of that is to gain some visibility, and I generally end up losing money on those sales vs. what I could have been making at the $3.99 price.

For example: the first book in my High Heels series, SPYING IN HIGH HEELS, is the book that I put on sale the most, in order to hook readers into the series. I’ve sold almost 200,000 copies of that book alone. By contrast, the second book in my series, KILLER IN HIGH HEELS, is one that I almost never put on sale. It’s almost always priced at $3.99. I’ve sold roughly 50,000 copies of this book, but this book has made me at least three times as much as book #1 in terms of income.

Since I won’t be blogging again until after the holiday, Merry Christmas to all the Killers out there! I hope you all get exactly what you want for Christmas! (I’ve got my eye on a Kindle Fire, just in case Santa is listening…)

~ Trigger Happy Halliday

Shopping Anyone? Another Wild Thing Give Away

2011-12-13T03:49:00.001-06:00

By Robin 'Red Hot' Kaye

I hate to shop. I really do. The only store I enjoy going to is the Apple Store--I mean, it's like an FAO Schwarz for adults. Just the thought of going to the mall between Thanksgiving and President's Day is enough to make my ass twitch--after all my mother has been dragging me through stores and shopping malls all my life.

I had my first panic attack at Macy's in Herald Square. I walked very young, and my older sister didn't. My sister was in the stroller, and I was walking when my mom pushed us into the elevator at Macy's. It was winter, and back then all the men wore long wool coats and hats. I got stuffed into the corner, surrounded by wool and I didn't know where my mom was. I was maybe two years old at the time... I haven't liked crowded elevators since. Then there was that time mom had me sitting on the moving belt you're supposed to hold on to on the escalator. She must have reached for my sister and let go of me. I went flying over the side and landed on the jewelry case below. Yeah, I don't much care for escalators either...

I thought it was only fair that since I'm in the middle of my blog tour for Wild Thing, I'd torture my hero, Hunter Kincaid, a little more and send him out Christmas shopping.

All you have to do is comment to win one of two copies of Wild Thing! Be sure to write out your email address for me so I can let you know if you win.

I hope you enjoy the shopping trip. It's the closest I've come to the mall since the last time I saw my mother in October.

Hunter Kincaid’s definition of hell was going shopping with his sister, Karma. He liked shopping all right, as long as it was at Home Depot, REI, McU Sports, The Elephant’s Perch or just about any other home improvement or sporting good store. Yeah, there was nothing like shopping for building materials, crampons, climbing ropes, kayaks, rafts, hiking boots, skis, and mountain bike—all worth while things to buy.

Hunter turned to his sister, Karma and dodged a pack of teenagers. “Tell me again why we’re in the mall?”

Karma pushed past a family with strollers and ducked into a store called Hot Topic. “To buy your wife Christmas presents.”

“What more can Toni want? I already bought her a set of skis, bindings, boots, poles, bibs, a powder jacket, and a parka.”

Karma turned and rolled her eyes. “Toni doesn’t ski.”

“Yet. “ He smiled and rocked back on his heels. “She just needs the right equipment and a me—she’s married to the best ski instructor around.”

“Did you ever consider that maybe Toni doesn’t want to ski?”

Karma couldn’t be serious. Who wouldn’t want to ski? “Nah, Toni is going to love skiing. What’s not to love?”

“She’s still not at all comfortable being in the wilderness, and most ski resorts look like woods on mountains, remember?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Toni’s plenty comfortable at home, and our home is on a mountain beside a ski resort.”

“Well, just in case she’s not overly excited about you forcing her to ski, I thought it might be helpful to diversify your gifts. Hot Topic is one of Toni’s favorite stores.”

Hunter looked around and had to admit the place looked like the inside of Toni’s closet. It was like Goth heaven. He shrugged. “Okay, what does she want? It looks as if she’s got most of the store at home already.” At least now he knew where she shopped, not that he’d ever want to join her. There were just some things couple shouldn’t do together. Shopping for girl stuff was one of them. He looked around and saw a half dozen of graphic T-shirts Toni already owned. When he spotted the one she was wearing the first time he laid eyes on her, he couldn’t help but smile.

He followed Karma into the shoe section where she picked up a pair of black stiletto boots that had to go above the knee. They were sexy as hell.

Karma tried them on over her tight jeans. “Toni’s been drooling over these for months.”

“You don’t think she’d wear them outside the bedroom do you?”

Karma shrugged and giggled. “You know Toni.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.” He rubbed his hand over his face and shook his head. “Okay, I’ll buy them.” He’d just have to make sure she never wore them in public. Toni had no idea how hot she looked, and he didn’t want anyone else knowing it either. Good thing he had ways of distracting her. “What else?”

Karma went around the store picking out hats, fingerless gloves, arm warmers, and stockings. God help him if Toni wore the fishnet stockings with the naughty-school-girl skirt Karma added to the pile, and those boots—he’d be a goner. He paid for the purchases and grabbed the bags. “Where to next?”

Karma slid her arm through his and headed in the opposite direction of where they were parked. Not a good sign. “Victoria Secret.”

“Kill me now.”

“I know for a fact you like Toni wearing nice lingerie.”

“Yeah, and I don’t even mind hand washing it. I just don’t want to buy it. Besides, the way I look at it, it’s more of a present for me than it is for her. Wouldn’t that be a little selfish of me? It would be like buying myself a Christmas present.”

Karma rolled her eyes. “Aw come on, big brother. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a few scraps of satin and lace.”

“Not afraid, but damn, Karma. The last thing I want to do is shop for naughty lingerie with my little sister.”

“Time to put your big-boy boxers on Hunter and get over yourself.”

“I thought I did that when I bought the boots.”

Karma just chuckled and led him right into what he was sure was the bowls of hell.

So tell me, do you have a shopping phobia? Has anyone else taken a header off the belt of an old escalator and landed on a jewelry case? Am I the only one with a fear escalators and crowded Macy's elevators?

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like....

2011-12-12T07:06:00.005-06:00

You know how the song goes. The big question is, are you ready for it?

I will admit to being partially ready. The house is looking good as I'm almost finished with Christmas decorations. I'd hoped to get an earlier start this year, but book deadlines and life put me off schedule. So now, I'll probably finish in time to start taking it all down. (sigh) Or maybe I'll just leave it up through winter. Hey, it is kinda pretty, and I did that one year when I was working a million hours a week as a contractor. Finally, my brother came over to my house in May and carried the entire tree, decorations and all, into the garage.

So first up today, I'm going to share a couple of decor picture, because it's so pretty with my signature turquoise and a great Christmas silver. Here's the living room - and yes, it's actually cold enough in Dallas to have a fire!

And this is the long counter that separates the kitchen from the living area/hallway.

And the final thought I'll leave you with today with a letter from Santa that I got in a random email. I figured you'd all like it.

Merry Christmas (or whatever you celebrate)!!!
Deadly DeLeon

E is for Extra Large?

2011-12-09T00:02:00.003-06:00

I was supposed to have a guest blogger today for my blogging maternity leave, but in my dusorganized state, I can't remember who'd signed up for today. Mea culpa. So you're stuck with me.

And I apologize for that, since this post may be somewhat less than coherent. You see, I'm tired. Ridiculously tired. And with good reason. I was discharged from the hospital a week ago today.

Yes, that's right, Killer Readers. I had my new baby boy last Monday (November 28)! I was actually supposed to have a scheduled c-section this past Monday (Dec 5), but the little man apparently takes after his big sis and decided to make his debut just under 2 weeks before his due date (which was supposed to be tomorrow, actually). Although he's nowhere near as impatient as his sister, since she chose to be born 6 weeks early. He stuck around in there a full 4 weeks longer.

(Speaking of his big sis...please wish her a happy birthday. She turns 2 today! Time flies!)

Anyway, even though I had a full month longer to plan and get things ready this time, invariably I ended up surprised and without anything done. Which was totally my fault, of course. I figured since I'd had a baby literally just 2 years ago (2 years ago today, actually!), there wasn't much I needed other than baby boy clothes. I had everything else -- carseat, crib, Pack n Play, bouncy seat, monitor, swing, etc.

Easy peasy. I was set.

What I didn't count on, however, was how much bigger my boobs would be this time. We're talking serious porn star range here. If I didn't know better, I'd think that the surgery I had last week included implants. Very, very large implants. If I can just lose this extra tummy fat I could probably do a centerfold in Playboy.

Yowzas!

I was totally caught off guard with this birth and hadn't even packed my bag yet. So I spent the next couple of days dictating a list of things for my husband to bring me from home. Of course, nursing bras were at the top of the list. But no biggie. He could just find them in my top dresser drawer.

Except they no longer fit. Like, not at ALL. I stopped nursing this past March and they fit me just fine then. They'd fit me all throughout the nearly 15 months I nursed my daughter. But not with my son. I was a 38 C then.

Not now.

My old nursing bras fit me while I was still in the hospital, but gradually became tighter and tighter shortly after I got home, until finally I couldn't take it any longer.

By Saturday night I was in sheer agony. What had once been a super comfy sleeping bra made from stretchy soft cotton had transformed overnight into a medieval torture device, binding me so tight I thought I would pass out. Corset? Pshaw. They have nothing on my old nursing bras.

So I took off the offending garment and was rewarded within a few seconds by two large wet spots on the front of my shirt. Niiiiiiice.

My mom offered to run out and get some new bras for me, but I couldn't even begin to guess what size I might be. No, I had to go to the store myself and try them on.

But I couldn't bear to strap myself back into that horrid contraption. But I also couldn't go out in public dripping, either.

So I came up with the brilliant solution of shoving a burp cloth under the front of my shirt. In my Percocet-ridden mind, it seemed ideal. It stopped the spreading dampness and provided camouflage from my enormous protruding nips. (I was afraid I was going to put someone's eye out with those things!)

I walked into the kitchen to grab a drink of water before heading out and was immediately greeted by the same question three different times from three different people (my mom, my dad, and my husband). What the heck was that under my shirt?

I proudly told them about my brilliant burp cloth idea. Fail. Even without hearing what each of the others had to say, Mom, Dad, and Mr. Brice all told me I looked like I was shoplifting. They begged me not to wear the burp cloth.

Fine. I put a jacket on over my t-shirt and kept my arms crossed tightly the entire time inside the store. (Needless to say, I brought along a stash of nursing pads in my purse so I wouldn't ruin the bras I was trying on.)

In the end, it was determined that I'm now a 38E. Mr. Brice is THRILLED.

Outlines: How I've Learned Not To Hate Them

2011-12-08T00:44:00.001-06:00

I've done a lot of book signings over the years. Different people in different places ask different questions, but the one question that always comes up is: "Do you write outlines for your books."

Outlines are funny things. I didn’t write one for Sex, Murder And A Double Latte but then why would I have? I started that book with the intention of just writing a short little story to help distract me from a difficult divorce (is there any other kind?). It wasn’t until I was half way through it that I decided to make it into a book and then I wrote out a general game plan as to how I wanted the story to go but I wouldn’t call it an outline.

The 2nd book I wrote (and my 3rd book published) was So Much For My Happy Ending. That was basically a highly fictionalized autobiography so I didn’t have to write an outline. I knew EXACTLY how that story went. I had already lived it. It poured out of my like a tidal wave of pent up emotion.

But when I got to Passion, Betrayal And Killer Highlights (3rd book written, 2nd published) I decided I was going to be über professional about it and wrote a detailed outline. Everything was planned out. And then I started actually writing the book. Guess what? The outline didn’t hold up. Or it would have held up if I had wanted to turn in a 200 page manuscript to my editor but I knew my editor would tell me that was too short. Mitch Albom can get away with writing a 200 page hardcover, I can’t and although I had planned out each chapter in the outline things were moving at a much faster pace than I had anticipated. So I threw the outline out and proceeded without it. I tried writing an outline for Obsession, Deceit And Really Dark Chocolate and although there was no problem with the length, its structure didn’t hold up once I tried to flesh it out in a manuscript so I threw that out too.

It wasn’t until I was ready to write Lust, Loathing And A Little Lip Gloss that it finally dawned on me what my problem was:

I hate writing outlines.

Hate, hate, hate it. It’s right up there with one of my least favorite things to do as a writer, perhaps second to the last round of edits when I’m checking for missed spelling errors and somebody else’s typos. But that said, just like checking for spelling errors, writing an outline can be an important task. They help to add structure to a book and can really help keep the pacing and action strong. But when I sit down at my computer knowing that I must start the process of creating a book by writing an outline I get an instant headache. It’s like telling a small child that he has to start his meal with brussel sprouts with only a vague promise that after he’s finished them he’ll get something better to eat. True, that means he’s saving the best for last but it might be hard getting the kid to the table. And when I think I have to start a writing project with an outline it really is hard to get me to the table. Once I’m there I rush through the chore neglecting details by metaphorically tossing them to the dogs (or rabbit...we are talking about vegetables here) or shoving them under my plate so I can hurry up and get to the good part.

But actually starting the book itself, introducing (or in the case of Sophie, reintroducing) myself to characters and a new storyline...well that’s my cocktail. I love that part. I realized that if I could just start with THAT I would be rushing to the table whenever it was time to start a new project.

So now I begin my books by writing about 15 pages without anything. Then I’ll stop long enough to write a 2 page synopsis which gives me a general direction. Once I get to 40 or 50 pages of manuscript that’s when I write an outline. I did this with both Lust, Loathing And A Little Black Dress and Vows, Vendettas & A Little Black Dress. By the time I’m done with those first few chapters I know who my characters are, how long it will take them to do the things I want them to do and I know how I want the story to go. Perhaps more importantly, I am always excited about what I’m writing by the time I’m done with those pages which makes putting together an outline seem like less of a chore. The promise of what’s to come after the brussel sprouts isn’t vague, it’s totally tangible and I’ll happily submit to the work of creating an outline in order to get to the main course.

I realize this approach won’t work for everyone but if you have a hard time sticking to outlines you might want to try it. If nothing else you’ll get to have a cocktail before your veggies.

Kyra "Fashionista Fatale" Davis

I Did It.

2011-12-07T04:30:00.000-06:00

I just got impatient. I couldn't wait to see what was under all that dark, red hair I'd had for so long. So, on a Saturday, I texted my hairdresser to ask what setting I should set the dog trimmer to - and she graciously offered to cut it off Sunday morning. At her house. In her pajamas. I got donuts and went home and was reading the paper as my kids woke up and did the cartoon double-take when they saw me. They didn't know I was going to do it, but hey! Donuts! (Okay, so I ate four.)

The next day, I went in to work. People who saw me before Thanksgiving break thought I'd come back with my chin-length, two tone hair. Several people thought I was a visitor and asked if I needed assistance.

I went to an alumni mixer last week. A lot of people there hadn't seen me in a while. It was in a bar with black lights. My head glowed like a blazing, white beacon. They only recognized me by my voice.

My friend Todd said I resemble a female Race Bannon. I guess before that, I looked like a female Dr. Benton Quest. At least I don't look like a female Bandit.

The big shock I guess is that people always knew to look for the tall redhead in the crowd. I've confused them. And that's awesome. Now, I just have to get used to the cartoon double-take I do when I pass a mirror.

The Assassin

My Christmas Confession

2011-12-06T03:30:00.004-06:00

Okay, I have a confession to make. And yeah, I know what you’re probably thinking. Saying that I have a confession to share makes it sound as though I’m about to confess to having buried a few (more) bodies in the compost heap in my backyard. But trust me, this confession is nothing bad—to the contrary, I think it’s fabulous news and I hope you will, too. So, what am I confessing? Only that my newest release is almost here, and I’m fifteen different shades of excited.

I hope you will be excited, too.

Okay, so enough teasing you. My latest release is called Murder, Mayhem and Mama, and it’s going live for Amazon’s Kindle and Barnes and Noble’s Nook on Tuesday, December 20^th. This book is really one of the “books of my heart,” and I’m so tickled that I get to share it with you. You see, MM&M is actually one of the four books I sold back in 2006 when I broke my long dry spell. Unfortunately, the company who bought the rights to publish my baby went under a short time later. Since I’d also sold my first humorous romantic suspense to Dorchester, and MM&M is a little, well, “different,” I shelved the book. Until now.

So what’s different about this book? Well, first let me tell you what’s the same. Murder, Mayhem and Mama has got the humor. For sure, it has a hot romance and a tough cop hero. It has a heroine, with a good heart who can be a tad sassy. You’re gonna find my forever-present pet in there, too, because I think our pets make us better humans. The plot has plenty of heart. Yup, you might shed a tear. And you can bet you’ll find plenty of suspense and action to keep you turning pages.

So what’s different? Well, Mama is different. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking—But Christie, you always have some whacky family member in your books so how is that different? Well, in this book, Mama is a little more than just whacky. Mostly because Mama is just a little bit dead. Okay, she’s more than a little bit. She’s 100% dead. But like all mamas, she feels it’s her responsibility to watch out for her daughter. And until she knows her daughter is going to be okay, Mama’s just not gonna take that big leap into the afterlife.

Here’s the cover and blurb for Murder, Mayhem and Mama:

Being a mama is hard. But the job's even tougher when you're dead.

Cali McKay's mama isn't ready to pass over to the "other side" yet. Her
unlucky-in-love daughter needs her now more than ever. Before Mama can
chain-smoke her way to heaven, she's gotta make sure Cali's deadbeat
ex-boyfriend doesn't get her daughter killed.

Grief Sucks. Love Heals.

Cali lost her mom to cancer. Detective Brit Lowell lost his partner to
murder. Now he's in the mood to take down some dirtbags and Cali's ex just
happens to be a dirtbag leaving a trail of dead bodies behind him. Can
Brit trust this beautiful woman to help take down her ex? Can Cali look
past this sexy cop's hard exterior to trust him with her heart? Can life
get any crazier when Mama starts meddling from the grave? Only one thing is
for sure--none of it will matter, unless they catch a killer before the
killer catches them.

Honestly, guys, this is the best Christmas gift I ever gave myself. And I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Holiday Magic! by Diane Kelly

2011-12-05T00:01:00.008-06:00

This past Saturday, my husband, our kids, and I went to see our niece perform in the Nutcracker, a fun tradition we’ve carried on for five years now. Seeing our niece progress over the years from a tiny gingerbread girl wielding a wooden spoon, to an angel, a soldier, a Sugar Plum Fairy attendant, and now a party guest has been so fun. And, okay, I have to admit that the guy who danced in the Arabian coffee part was one hot latte – dark-skinned, muscular beyond belief, agile and athletically graceful. When my husband noticed me drooling, I told him it was because the dancer had a shaved head and I have a thing for bald guys (my husband being one himself). Good save, huh? I probably shouldn’t mention that my son renamed the show the “Buttcracker” after noticing a male dancer’s tights lodged firmly between the cheeks of his derriere. (Yep, we’re a classy bunch.)

I love the theme of Holiday Magic in the story. The concept of a toy coming to life has been done over and over again in movies, but it’s one we never tire of - Pinocchio, Babes in Toyland, The Indian in the Cupboard, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, Small Soldiers, Toy Story, and even the Chuckie movies – yikes!

The idea got me thinking. If I could bring something in my house to life, what would it be?

We have a sculpture of a solider that my daughter made out of clear strapping tape in an art class. If he came to life, he’d be able to crack the nuts of any intruder who posed a threat to my house or family. Still, I’m not sure how I’d feel about having a machine gun and hand grenades in the house. My family takes enough risks eating my leftovers.

We have a miniature carved wood Tiki totem of a Rastafarian. If he came to life, he could entertain us with Bob Marley songs. But he’d probably grow ganja in my garden and smoke it on the patio. No sense risking the wrath of the homeowners association.

I have a figurine of St. Francis of Assisi that a friend gave me as a housewarming gift years ago. It would be great if he came to life. He’d walk the dogs for me, clean out the litter boxes, keep our critters fed and brushed. And he could play doorman for the dogs, who want in, out, in, no-wait-I-changed-my-mind-I-want-back out at least a hundred times an hour.

If you could bring something in your house to life, what would it be and why?

One person who posts a comment today will receive a SWAG bag of fun goodies for Diane Kelly's Death and Taxes series. Check back around 9:00 PM central time to see if you've won! Book #1 in the Death and Taxes series is in bookstores and available at online booksellers now. Books #2 and #3 are available for per-order now. Visit Diane at www.dianekelly.com.

Self-publishing numbers: dollars and cents

2011-12-02T03:00:00.000-06:00

For the last few weeks I’ve been posting about my self-publishing numbers and, as promised, today I wanted to talk a little bit about what those numbers mean in terms of money earned. Generally, I’m not a huge fan of talking dollars and cents. Like most of us, I was taught that it’s not polite to talk about money. So I’m not going to go into exactly what my income from self-publishing has been. But the one thing that frustrated me the most when I first started looking at writing as a career was that there was no information about how much money I could expect to make. No one was sharing. Sure, everyone’s numbers were going to vary, but I knew there have to be some averages that I could expect. So I do want to share some of my numbers, especially my first few months self-publishing, in hopes that it can give other authors looking at this option some idea what they can expect.
When I first stepped into the digital self-publishing arena about 18 months ago, I wasn’t expecting much. Up until then, self-publishing had pretty much been synonymous with selling books out of the trunk of your car - not my idea of fun. However, I had a good friend, J.R. Rain, who was seeing amazing sales with this format.  I think he nagged me for a good three months before I finally agreed to give it a try with one of my unsold manuscripts. But, like I said, I wasn’t expecting much. A couple of bucks here and there. Maybe enough to take the family to dinner once a month.   However, extra money is extra money, right? So, what did I have to lose but a couple of days to make a cover and format my manuscript for ereaders? So I tried it out.

Month #1
I put two short stories up on Kindle in May 2010. That month I sold 159 copies and made $82.68. I was pretty pleased. Clearly it wasn’t going to pay my rent, but it was enough to take my family out to dinner. Twice even, if we used coupons.
Month #2
In June I sold a total of 169 copies (yay, 10 up from last month!) and made a total of $128.69. I could leave the coupons at home this month!
Month #3
In July I did a little playing around with pricing, upping the price of both stories. I sold fewer - only 140 copies - but I ended up making more, a total of $271.80. Not bad for some extra cash. Hey, I could take my family out to eat once a week with that.   So, at the end of July I decided to add a some full length novels to the mix, manuscripts that I’d written but had never sold to NY that were just gathering dust on my hard drive.
Month #4
In August, with the addition of the novels, I made $973.42. And, off of Amazon UK, which had just become a self-pubb option that month, $9.19. Ohmigod, maybe I could pay some bills with this. Electric? Check! Water? Check! Groceries? Check! Woohoo!
Month #5
And in September is where I started to see some real rent-paying potential. I made a total of $4,944.42 this month. I was blown away. Instead of sales slowing the longer my books had been out (like I usually saw with print books), they were growing by leaps and bounds each month.
And for anyone who is curious – I had done ZERO promo at this point. None at all. I didn’t even post about the new books to my newsletter/Facebook/etc.   These were all readers that had found me via browsing Amazon.

Month #6
In October of 2010, two things happened for me.
1) I got the rights back to all of my backlist, which included seven full length novels and one novella. I put all of those books up for sale on Kindle.
2) Barnes & Noble’s PubIt! came on the scene, so I quickly put all of my books up there as well.
At both venues I made a total of $8,988.60 that month. I was honestly sure there had been a typo somewhere in the vendors’ accounting. No way was this for real.

But it was. And things just started snowballing from there. The more books I added, the more sales for all of my titles grew. In late 2010 I put some of my titles up on Smashwords as well, which distributed them to Apple, Sony, Diesel, and Kobo. My sales started out small there (much like at Amazon), but slowly grew over time.

In addition to the unsold manuscripts that were given new life and my previously published backlist, I’ve also added new, original titles to my roster of self-published books. These have been amazingly well received by the ereading community. My latest ebook, FEARLESS IN HIGH HEELS, is currently (as I type this) sitting at #10 on the Barnes & Noble Bestseller list! It’s sold over 2000 copies in its first three days, so I couldn’t be happier.
Obviously everyone’s sales are going to be different, but I hope that this info helps somewhat in knowing what to expect when you’re starting out in self-publishing. I hear a lot of authors getting discouraged about slow sales to start with. Don’t be! Like I said, I made $82 in my first month. It’s totally normal to start out slow. Don’t worry. Just keep writing. :)

~Trigger Happy Halliday

Indulge to your heart's content!

2011-12-01T04:45:00.001-06:00

I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving with family and friends. Since one of the triplets had to work all night on Thanksgiving Eve in preparation for Black Friday and then go back to work Thanksgiving night, we celebrated on Sunday, the 19th with turkey and all the trimmings. As is customary, we all ate too much. Fortunately, the weather was fabulous and we took a walk to work off some of the calories we'd consumed.

I must admit I ventured out on Thanksgiving Night to the local Walmart. I didn't have anything I really had to have, but thought maybe if the line for the HP laptop wasn't too long, I'd give it a try. Wasn't happening. I couldn't even get to the line. Once I abandoned any hope of actually buying anything and the pressure was off, it wasn't so bad. I squeezed my way near the five dollar blu rays and managed to snare several good ones. One of my daughters wanted as many seasons of Bones and Supernatural as I could get and I was able to grab several of those. Next I sidled past the video games and nabbed a Wii game my son wanted. A work hoodie for another daughter, some chocolate for me and I was out of there. No big ticket items, but some success nevertheless.

How was your Thanksgiving? Did you venture out for Black Friday deals? Any Black Friday stories to share?

And speaking of the shopping season, for most of us, that can only mean one thing: 'Tis the season for book buying. And the next best thing to giving books as gifts is getting them. And just in time for the Christmas shopping season, I want to let you know about a fabulous opportunity to find out about some incredible ebooks for just ninety nine cents each. Beginning today, a number of indie and self-pubbed authors (including some of the Killer Fiction authors) are featuring specially priced digital copies of their books at the Book Lovers Buffet Holiday extravaganza at www.bookloversbuffet.com. All the sub-genres of romance fiction, women's fiction, and even some non fiction books are included so stock up in time for your holiday reading!

And happy shopping!

~Bullet Hole~

It's beginning to look a lot like...something

2011-11-30T04:00:00.002-06:00

Bethany: Is your house on fire, Clark?

Clark: No, Aunt Bethany. Those are the Christmas lights.

I can't tell you how excited I am that the holiday season is here - I love the lights, the decorations and especially putting up the tree (taking it down is another matter). And so begins the annual Fox family debate - what kind of tree to get.

My husband grew up in an "artificial tree" family. He believes in economy - grab that puppy from the basement, have it up in under a half hour, maybe spray some pine-scent and start decorating.

If only it could be so simple.

For, you see, I tend to channel the spirit of Clark Griswold during the holiday season. And worse, I come from a real tree family. And not just a "tree lot" tree family - my dad had us out early the weekend after Thanksgiving, hoofing it across massive Christmas tree forests, looking for the perfect one. We'd spent all morning walking - and goofing around - but all in search of the not-too-tall, not-too-short, no-bald-spots, does-it-have-the-right-kind-of-needles, long-enough-trunk, my-brother-did-NOT-see-it-first masterpiece of a tree. We'd take turns chopping it down and then my dad would haul it back out of the woods.

The first year we were married, I tried to re-create this tradition with my husband, the spray-on pine scent guy. He was cautiously optimistic. I picked the wrong tree farm. It was literally a long field flanked by other people's backyards. He laughed. And finally, I did too. It was fun. The tree was pretty. And we vowed ... next year would be spectacular.

Then we had one kiddo, and two. My husband began to point out ads for artificial trees - on sale! (Yeah, I'm a sucker for a sale.) But, no. While I'm not going to channel Clark Griswold to the point of dashing out to the woods with two small children and a hack saw, I still need a real tree.

So we head to the lot up at church. My husband talks with the guys, we all pick out a tree and it's just as pretty as the ones we dragged home years ago. But someday...one day...I'm going to get these people back out into the woods.

Now what about you? Are you an "artificial tree" person or a "real tree" person? And do you know any good tree farms?

Wild Thing is Out!

2011-11-29T06:46:00.006-06:00

By Robin "Red Hot" Kaye

I should be more excited--my fifth book is being released today, making me a confirmed career author! Did you hear a lack of enthusiasm despite the exclamation point?

Now don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled about Wild Thing. I think it's my favorite book so far. I love Toni and Hunter. I had such a hard time doing my galleys because I kept forgetting I was supposed to be working and ended up getting so sucked into the story, before I knew it I'd read three chapters and had to go back and re-check them.

My lack of excitement stems from the fact that now, with five books under my belt, I'm considered a career author. Did you know it takes five published books to be considered a career author? Well, supposedly it does, I'm just not sure who is doing the considering. In my mind, I was a confirmed career author the day I finished my first book--after all, I had a product to sell and was actively selling it. To me, telling an author they're not a career author until after they've published five books would be like telling Ray Kroc he wasn't a career restauranteur until after he sold a billion burgers.

Now that I'm a confirmed career author I thought I would feel different. I thought people take me more seriously. Yesterday I dressed seriously, I had the whole black on black thing going (a black turtleneck, black jeans and an awesome long sweater I picked up at Chico's.) It didn't work. I might as well have been running around in sweats--I still had to go to the pharmacy and then to the school to drop off the prescription to the school nurse in case Mini-Me has an allergic reaction to her new antibiotic. Unfortunately Mini-Me is also Worst-Case-Senario-Girl, something else she picked up from me. After that I had a lovely meeting at school to go over some testing. No change there either. I had an hour to kill and went to a restaurant to have lunch--I ate over my computer while desperately trying to get my email. It was the same-old, same-old. No sign of a Nora-esque moment. My life hadn't changed a bit (well, except I didn't end up with a spot on my new black turtleneck, but that I think was more dumb luck than a sign of the change). I also ran Mini-Me to the doctor's office. The nurse mentioned that she buys my books for Christmas presents and heard one was coming out. I'm thinking cool! Here's my moment! She asked who the hero was and seemed upset it was Hunter and not Trapper. A total crash and burn. No Nora-esque moment there either.

So I ask you, am I expecting too much now that I'm a career author? Should there be a change? The only change I see are the few coins ratting around in the bottom of my purse. And if there were a change what should it be?

I'll give away a couple copies of Wild Thing to lucky commenters (US only please--which is not my decision but that of my publisher, just so you know) so be sure to leave your email addresses--just spell out the at and the dot so weird people don't get them and send you spam.

Bad News for Writers

2011-11-28T10:17:00.004-06:00

In talking recently to medical professionals, I was enlightened with some bad news for writers and anyone else who spends a bunch of time sitting all day. The bad news is, sitting is really bad for your health. Well, we sorta already knew that, but here's the even worse news - even if you ran 10 miles every day, you still won't be as healthy as someone who doesn't sit all day.

Wow.

Okay, typing is sorta sedentary work, but it's how I pay the bills. I don't think my job would appreciate it if I got up every ten minutes to run laps between the cubicles, and I certainly wouldn't get much work done that way - there or at home when I'm trying to write novels. So I went online and started poking around.

And I found the Air Desk.

It's a portable stand that allows me to work on my laptop standing. The height is adjustable on the model I got up to six feet, so I can also use it while walking on the treadmill. Can you believe that even just the act of standing will make you a ton healthier? Not running until you collapse. Not suffering through aerobics with Bambi and her g-string leo. Just standing.

Here's a pic of my air desk with the laptop hooked up to the wall-mounted television in my office. So that way, I type on the laptop but can see everything on the big screen.

I've also purchased a wireless headset and as soon as I get Dragon Naturally Speaking all configured, I'll be able to pace and dictate while viewing it on the television.

Every little bit helps, right?

Deadly DeLeon

Writing the Male POV with guest blogger Rita Henuber

2011-11-25T10:31:00.004-06:00

Happy Thanksgiving!

Amanda is taking the next month or so off while she settles back in to life with a newborn. The new little man hasn't arrived -- yet -- but he's due shortly, so her buddy Rita Henuber is here today instead.

Male and female brains are hardwired differently. When it comes to love and relationships men are lousy communicators. Guys express themselves differently than gals and are not as complicated as women want to make them. Therefore writing Y chromosome dialogue can be challenging.

Take it back a million years. Females were driven to search out a strong mate to protect and provide for her and her offspring. The little woman stayed home and home schooled the kids teaching them not to play in dinosaur poop, to stay away from the fire, and quit rolling the family's only wheel down the hill. To relax, she painted her life on the cave walls and depicted how much she missed her guy.

Males were driven to spread their seed, pound their chest, protect their offspring from the dinosaurs, make the fire, and grump when the wheel got chipped. When he came back to the cave from a hunt and the little woman asked how it went, he grunted. To catch up on what happened while he was gone he checked out the cave wall and he found out how much she missed him and what she liked. -eyebrow wiggle here- .
So what's changed? Women still look for a protector and provider. Men are still driven to spread… well, we know, and they still grunt when you ask them a question. Each species has evolved and wants more from their mate. Men and women both want to be in a good relationship and find true love.

They still communicate those needs in different ways.

We as writers have to remember to put that difference on the page. Don't mess with the hard wiring and make your heroes so perfectly fit the mold we women want that they no longer fit the male species mold.

Start with the differences in the way we talk. Have you noticed we women tend to qualify what we say be ending the sentence with a question? "This color looks good on me, don't you think?" Guys do not do that.

Ask a guy a question that requires a yes or no -Do you want to ride into town with me?- men will answer yes or no. Ask a woman and she may say: "yes, but can we stop at mall first cause I want to exchange these pants I bought the other day. They're too long. If you don't want to stop it’s a no."

When writing dialogue for a guy the less words used the better. Men cut to the chase. They don't hem and haw and beat around the bush. They say what's on their mind. "Nice dress. Take it off." (From a Janet Evanovich book)

Then we have feelings- whoo O-O feel….ings.

Does your hero tell your heroine how he feels? Does he answer her when she asks how he feels? If the answer is yes then take a break and let's talk.

Even though you want your hero to be the man we gals want, having him talk about feelings early on could be asking your reader to suspend beliefs a bit too far.

Guys will gladly tell you what they think, but what they feel…? Try this experiment. Ask you DH, SO, any guy what they feel about a topic you know they are interested in. A couple of days later ask them what they think about it. In my tests the- how do you feel- got blank stares, a "huh?" and "that sucks." On the- what do you think,- I had a five minute monologue and way more information than I wanted.

What's the difference to a guy? The survey says: a guy is sure about what he thinks, but with his feelings he doesn't want to look like a fool to his woman. Men are intimidated by the fact women are born with a masters degree in talking about feelings. Also, they figure if everything is okay in the relationship she won't want to talk about feelings. Talking about feelings when things are going well, throws a guy out of the game. He gets nervous. Only after a relationship grows and he wants to make her happy does he begins to open up about his feelings. He doesn't exactly like it, but when she lets him know how worthwhile he is he becomes more willing to expose his own insecurities and sacrifice his comfort zone for her. Like, TALK about how he FEELS.

In general,a man feels his sacrifices show his love. Men love that power struggle, love to be in control and those sacrifices, big or small, will mostly center around that. It can be something as simple as letting his woman pick the radio station in the car when he wants to listen to the game. He derives great satisfaction when she acknowledges that sacrifice with a simple thank you, or a smile. I'm not saying a guy should forgo flowers on her birthday. I'm saying write smart. Show love in more than one way.

To wrap up. When writing the guys POV, use less words. Get to the point. Cut through the unnecessary. Consider subtle ways of him showing his love and showing her understanding that's what he's doing. Sounds like romance to me.

______________________________________

Rita Henuber is the author of UNDER FIRE, released this summer by Carina Press.

Coast Guard helicopter pilot Olivia Carver is on a very personal mission. Her twin brother, an undercover officer, was murdered by a drug cartel and she won’t stop until she finds the man responsible for his death.

In the course of her own investigation, Olivia meets informant Rico Cortes. He’s mysterious and sexy and despite her reservations, the two share a night of passion. But Rico turns out to be more than a one-night stand. He’s a DEA agent, deep undercover in Miami’s drug world, and possibly the one man who can help Olivia find the justice she seeks.

When Rico realizes his cover is blown, he isn’t sure whether it was someone in the cartel or an inside agent. Olivia is the only one he can trust and together they venture on a dangerous, rogue mission to infiltrate a drug lord’s inner circle…with Olivia as bait.

Thankful For Tidepools & Oceans

2011-11-24T02:18:00.001-06:00

This Thanksgiving I've come home to Santa Cruz. Santa Cruz is the city where I grew up and my mother now lives in the same house that my grandparents used to live in; a house my grandfather designed and built himself. The house and the town holds lots of wonderful memories for me but even as a child I knew Santa Cruz wouldn't be my home forever. Filled with surfers, self-proclaimed hippies and little shops selling crystals and tarot cards the city has always been unique but it isn't my scene. While I was a resident here I longed for the museums, department stores, restaurants, clubs, urban culture and ethnic diversity that can only be found in the larger cities of this country. It was my longing for those things that prompted me to move to San Francisco when I was only seventeen. It's what brought me to New York and now LA. Despite spending almost all of my childhood years in Santa Cruz I have always identified much more with San Francisco. Over the years Santa Cruz has grown considerably. There are condos where there used to be communes. But it's still Santa Cruz and I still know that I will never want to move back here.

And yet whenever I do come for a visit I remember what there is to love about this place. There is no denying its beauty. I love the way the seals and otters play in the harbor. I love the way the air is so crisp and clean. I love the sense of peace that permeates this place with the quiet roar of the ocean. Two Thanksgivings ago I took my son (then 10) to see the tide-pools by the beach and he pointed out a small crab who had made his home in one of them. "For that crab living in that tide-pool is like living in Santa Cruz," he said. "The crab's whole world is that tide-pool, he's totally sheltered and protected from the ocean and everything that's in it! He might not even know the ocean's there!"

"But," he said, looking up at me with a sweet little smile, "it's a very pretty tide-pool. Plus it's not like any of the other tide-pools around it. It's not a bad place for him to live."

As usual my son summed up my feelings in a metaphor that is much more accurate and poetic than anything I could have come up with myself.

Personally, I love living in my metaphorical ocean and I can't see myself ever giving it up for anything smaller or more tame. But I do enjoy visiting my old tide-pool every once in a while and I understand why so many of my childhood schoolmates have chosen to stay.

It's incredibly pretty here.

Kyra "Fasionista Fatale" Davis

Leslie Langtry, the Tsilver Tsunami!

2011-11-23T02:02:00.000-06:00

Disclaimer - the following photos are not for the faint of heart.

As you can see, the gray is really growing in fast. I knew y'all'd want an update. Not bad, right? At some point, I'm going to have to cut the red out. Jana made me promise I wouldn't let it get all frizzy and dry like "an old witch."

And I've got a list of snappy comebacks when someone asks me what happened. It will be a shock to those who haven't seen me in a few months when I'm all silver. So here goes:

1) I got scared... all of a sudden.
2) I was President of the United States last month.
3) WHAT? My hair is GRAY??? (grab person by shoulders and shake violently while swearing and spitting) $#@!&!!!

Now, for the fun stuff. I'm getting ready to put a book up for sale that, while some agents and editors loved it, they said it wasn't "marketable" - which is a euphemism for more swearing.

Originally called, THE ADULTERER'S UNOFFICIAL GUIDE TO DISNEY WORLD, this is the book I wrote just before Gin Bombay's saga. I changed the Disney World to Family Vacations - since I'm going it alone, and not that stupid (well, not anymore at least).

Anyway, this book is a departure from my others. There's no mystery, murder for hire and for some reason it has lots of sex (which means my mom, dad and any male relations may NOT read it) - but it's still humor - so that's okay, right? I've been messing around with covers and wanted to get your opinion. What do you, my minions, think? And please be honest.

I still have no idea how to make pictures appear side-by-side. Sorry about that. I really don't get how this blogger thing works. I assume there's a magical hamster inside somewhere.

Oh, and have a Happy Thanksgiving!

The Assassin

Hanging on. Hanging in there.

2011-11-22T00:05:00.000-06:00

Amazon Gift Card Winner!

I had so many wonderful comments on this blog. It was difficult to pick a winner for the Amazon gift card. You all deserve to win, but, unfortunately, I can only pick one. So the winner of the Amazon gift card is Refhater. Please email your snail mail address to christie(at)christie-craig(dot)com. You've had a rough year, and I hope this marks the beginning of your luck turning around.

Well, hubby did it again. Don’t worry, I’m not talking about setting anything on fire, or tearing the house down in his plumbing misadventures. Nope, I’m talking about his rushing into my office and announcing in a direct tone, “Grab your camera and follow me.”

Now, for those of you who are new to the blog, or perhaps just want to chuckle at the memory, let me start by enumerating some of the great snapshots I’ve gotten at his encouragement.

There was the awesome sunset outside the plane’s window.

There was my cat imitating me after a book release.

There was the peeping frog in our pond.

And the lizards doing it on the side of our house.

Yeah, that’s hubby. He has eclectic taste. So as you can imagine, I never know what to expect when he tells me to grab the camera. Ahh, but this one was pretty good.

It was a praying mantas.

I got excited. As a kid, these bugs were my favorite insect. They were just so odd. They have that weird head and huge honking eyes that look right at you and follow you as you move. And they kept their front legs together as if they were praying.

When I was young, I wondered what it was they prayed so hard for. Ahh, but when I got a little older, I figured it out.

The female Praying mantas has an after-sex ritual. (And human males think that snuggling is bad, but they got off easy). You see, this female insect turns around, right after, or sometimes even during the deed, and bites the head off their mate and has him for an after-sex snack. (Hey, it does increase our appetites.) So I figured the females are praying for forgiveness, or asking for a lover good enough to keep, and the males are pleading for the willpower to avoid the hot looking female mantas.

However, as interesting as all this is, that’s not what this blog is really about. You see, hubby had spotted the praying mantas on top of our car at the post office, and not having anything with which to move the creature, he left him alone. And he was somewhat shocked to discover that the little fellow had hung on all the way to our house.

And that, my friends, gets us to the real subject of this blog: Hanging on. Hanging in there. It’s what I tell my friends whenever they find themselves in a tough spot. It’s what I tell myself when I find myself facing a hurdle. And don’t we all face hurdles? We’ve all been in that tough place where our patience was tried, or our spirit tested.

In my life and in my career, I’ve faced quite a few hurdles. I wanted to be a writer, but being dyslexic, the thought of having to get my ideas on paper, having to spell, and not leave out words, seemed too much. Also, I didn’t have the educational background that so many writers have when they set out with publishing dreams.

I tried anyway.

In spite of receiving over 5000 rejections on my work, both for my freelance articles and novels (yes, I was told "no" that many times) I hung in there. In spite of reading judges’ comments from writing contests like, “You should stop trying to be funny, because I think you might be able to write a good scene,” I didn’t let it ding my sense of humor.

In spite of being told by the professionals that what I wrote was too outside the box and my work was unmarketable, I continued to nourish that tiny seed of hope.

In spite, of it taking ten long years to publish my first book and another thirteen years before I sold book two, I didn’t let go.

I hung on to the hood of my dreams. I found ways to continue to believe in myself. I found ways to continue to improve. I cherished the love ones who found the ability to believe in me. And when the ones who gave up on me said, “Maybe it’s time to stop banging your head on the same damn door,” well, I’m just thankful, as they are, that I’m not a praying mantas and I didn’t turn around and bite off their heads for trying to “screw” with my dreams. But I’ll admit that I wanted to.

In this past couple of years, I’ve taken some major steps up the ladder in my career, and believe me, I have a lot to be thankful for this Thanksgiving. I’ve seen my books auctioned by publishers both in the US and in other countries. I’ve gotten fan mail in over seven languages. Some may think I’m an overnight success, but honestly, there’s been 9,855 nights, give or take a few for leap year, in the twenty-seven years that I hung on.

While I’m doing well, just in the last year, I’ve faced lawsuits, publishers unable to pay royalties, and health issues of loved ones, all of which can take a bite out of our optimism. But I just kept telling myself and them…"let’s hang on.” When our choices are to give up or just to keep going, why not just keep going? And tomorrow, if my genre falls out of favor, if my publishers close house, if life gets in the way of my well laid-out plans, I pray I’ll tighten my grip on life, remember to keep my sense of humor intact, and continue to hang on.

And I’d just like to say to any other writers out there who are facing rejection or non-believers trying to screw with their dreams, take a page from my playbook, and hang in there. To non-writers I offer the same advice. It really doesn’t matter what your dreams are: to run a marathon, to lose a hundred pounds (or even ten), to beat cancer, or to make enough to pay for a dream vacation. Whatever your dream is, hang on like the praying mantas clung to the roof of my husband’s car. Don’t give up. Ever.

The advice I offered to the praying mantas who hitched a ride home with hubby: Take the vow of celibacy, dude. Seriously, take it. Oh, and to all men, be glad snuggling is all we ask for.

Today, I’d like to offer a little Thanksgiving contest, a $25 gift certificate to Amazon to someone who is hanging on. So make sure you post a comment and you might just win. I’ll post the winner on top of this blog tomorrow morning. So make sure you stop by.

Winner Alert!

The winner of Gina Robinson's hilarious and romantic book The Spy Who Left Me is Sarah. So please email your snail mail address to christie(at)christie-craig(dot)com. Congratulations!

Happy Thanksgiving, guys!!!

Secrets . . . Shaken Not Stirred by Diane Kelly with guest Gina Robinson

2011-11-21T00:01:00.008-06:00

Earlier this year, I had the pleasure of meeting author Gina Robinson when I flew out to Seattle to present a tax workshop for the Greater Seattle RWA chapter. Much to our surprise, as we chatted over lunch, we realized that not only had we contracted with the same publisher, but we also had the same editor and the same release date as well. Gina’s books, like mine, contain an entertaining mix of romance, crime, and humor. She’s a former engineer and I’m a CPA/tax advisor, so we’re both recovering nerds, too. It’s like we were twins separated at birth!

Recently we wondered what it might be like if the heroines of our novels met each other, too. Both of the women have trust issues when it comes to the men in their lives. We decided to let them meet over drinks at a bar and compare notes. Read on to see what happens as Treflee of Gina Robinson’s “The Spy Who Left Me” Meets Tara of “Death, Taxes, and a French Manicure” . . .

IRS Special Agent Tara Holloway, still dressed in her gray business suit, bellies up to the bar and takes a seat on an empty stool next to a pretty blonde. Thank goodness it’s happy hour. She could use a drink or two. She catches the bartender’s eye. His biceps are the size of hams. Nice. He definitely works out. “Sex on the beach, please.”

The bartender slides a flirtatious grin Tara’s way. “Is that a drink order or a proposition?”

Tara returns the grin. “Drink order,” she replies. “As tempting as you are, I’m having enough man trouble right now.”

Treflee can’t help overhearing the woman next to her. Too many years of being married to a spy. Eavesdropping is second nature to her. She takes a sip of her martini, shaken, not stirred, and turns to the woman in the gray business suit with great empathy. “You, too? Must be something in the water around here.” She smiles at her. “I’m Treflee. What has your man done?”

“That’s the problem, Treflee,” Tara says, glad to have someone to confide in and share a drink with. “I’m not entirely sure whether my boyfriend Brett has done anything or not. But I have some suspicions he may be involved with a con artist.” Tara takes a long drag through her straw, savoring the peach flavor. Yum! “What about your man? How is he giving you trouble?”

“My husband? He’s a con artist himself.” Treflee sees Tara’s shocked expression and laughs softly. “Sorry to give you the wrong impression. I’m kidding. Sort of. I should have said lying, secrecy, and intrigue are his stock in trade. He’s not a crook. He has the government’s blessing. The thing is, the secrecy doesn’t stop when he comes home, if he comes home at all, and it’s killing our marriage. I can’t live his life of lies anymore. It’s just too dangerous.”

Treflee pauses, fearing she may have said too much already. You never know where an enemy agent may be hanging out or who’s listening in. Tara looks like a member of the sympathetic sisterhood of women with man troubles, but she could be a foreign spy. Still, Treflee can’t help adding, “I think he may have done something, really, really bad. And now he’s put me in danger.” She takes another sip of her drink. “You and I are suffering from the worst kind of man problems—the kind where they could either be completely innocent, or in horrible trouble. What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to get some answers. I have ways to make men talk.” Tara pulls back her jacket to give Treflee a glimpse of the Glock holstered at her hip, then flashes a smile to let her new friend know she’s teasing. Tara can’t imagine using a gun on Brett, though slapping her handcuffs on him could lead to some fun. Was it possible to boink the truth out of someone? Tara was willing to try. “I suppose I’m a bit of a hypocrite,” she admits. “I’ve kept some secrets from Brett, too. The guy has no idea I carry a gun on the job.” Tara leans toward Treflee, her voice low. “As difficult as secrets can be, sometimes having secrets can be kind of fun. Sexy even. A little mystery keeps things exciting, don’t you think?”

Join in the conversation. Should couples always be completely honest with each other or does knowing everything about each other take the fun out of a relationship? When, if ever, is it okay to have secrets?

Self-publishing Number Breakdown

2011-11-18T03:00:00.000-06:00

Two weeks ago I posted about hitting the milestone of selling 500,000 self-published ebooks, and promised that throughout the rest of 2011, I’d be talking about self-publishing. So, today I wanted to touch on how and where I sold that many books, breaking them down by vendor.

Amazon.com:
I first started putting my books up for sale myself through Amazon’s KDP program in May 2010. At that time, Amazon was really the only big player around for self-publishing ebooks. Which meant they had the market cornered, so all of my sales for the first 5 months I self-published came from Amazon. To date I have sold 312, 958 books at Amazon.com.

The key to selling books at Amazon for me has been having multiple titles available. I first started with just a couple of short stories. Those sold okay, but not enough for me to get excited about. Then I added one novel. Still not many sales. It wasn’t until I added my entire backlist that I saw a huge boom in sales. And it wasn’t just more books – each one of my titles sold more copies every time I added another book to the mix.

The other thing that’s made a big difference for me has been pricing. Most of the books I have on Amazon sell for $3.99 and I have NEVER discounted them. The majority of my sales have come from my High Heels series and my Hollywood Headlines series. Of these, I have only ever discounted the first book in each series. I think this is really key to generating income from the books as well (though I’ll talk more about the money side of things next blog post). I have offered the first books in my two series for $.99 or even free for a limited time, but the idea behind that is to generate sales of the other books in the series. I see a lot of other authors doing this successfully, as well – discounting just one title, but keeping the prices for the rest of their titles at an even price, usually between $3.99-$5.99.

Barnes & Noble:
I’ve had books up at Barnes & Noble since the October 2010, so just over a year. BY that point I had my entire backlist to work with, so I saw sales take off there right out of the gate. To date I have sold 185,255 books at BN.

At Barnes & Noble my strategy has been a bit different. I’ve found that discounting doesn’t do much to change my sales there. In fact, I had a book for free on BN and didn’t sell any more copies than I had the previous week when it was priced at $3.99. My experience is that Barnes & Noble shoppers are hard-core readers. They are book people. They mostly have no problem paying $3.99 or even $5.99 for a book, as that’s still a bargain form the paperback or hardcover versions. I don’t sell as many books here as I do on Amazon, but I sell more of my higher priced titles, so that on the monetary end, it kind of evens out.

Apple:
So far I’ve been selling at Apple’s iBookstore through Smashwords. Which, as some of you probably know, has notoriously hard to read sales reports. So my info isn’t quite as shiny and up-to-date for my sales here. I’ve been selling through Apple since November 2010, so a solid year. To date (or as far as I have sales reports for) I’ve sold 8,856 books at Apple.

Sales started out VERY slow for me here – just 4 books sold in my first month, but picked up after a while. I think the iBookstore is just now becoming more of a force in the “i” world, so I expect to see sales continue to climb here.

Other outlets:
I’m lumping these all together, as I haven’t sold a ton at other outlets yet. I definitely think it’s worth having your book for sale in as many places as possible, but I’ve seen sales very slowly creep up in these markets.

Sony: 2,861
Kobo: 1,275
Smashwords/Diesel/ARE: 453

(Just a note: I see romance books - particularly hot ones - sell much better at ARE than my books have. I think I've sold a total of 7 copies in four months at ARE. It's not the best place for mystery, but I'd definitely check it out if you write more romance books.)

Foreign Markets:
This is where I’ve seen the biggest jumps lately! Amazon UK is a major sales outlet for me, and the other Amazon markets slowly becoming so, too. I haven’t independently tabulated my foreign sales for the other vendors, as they don’t amount to large numbers each month yet, but I have sold well through Apple in the UK, Germany, Australia, and Canada, and through Kobo in the UK, Australia, New Zealand, Canada, China, and Trinidad & Tobago (I got a kick out of that one!). There isn’t really anything special to do for the foreign markets (except perhaps translate you books – which I am planning to do starting in the new year!), but here are my numbers there:

Amazon UK: 127,386
Amazon DE: 325
Amazon FR: 106

And for anyone keeping track with their calculators, that does add up to 639, 475 books total.  After calculating in the last month’s sales numbers, it looks like I’ve hit a new milestone! :)

Since I won't be blogging again until after Thanksgiving, I hope everyone has a great holiday! I know I have plenty to be thankful for this year!

~Trigger Happy Halliday

Promo Puzzler

2011-11-17T04:45:00.000-06:00

Publishing is a very different animal than it was just ten years ago. With digital sales taking off and more writers taking the self-pub plunge and publishers' promo dollars shrinking, discovering the most effective bang for your promotion buck is more important than ever.

Bookmarks, magnets, posters, pens, post cards, buttons, book trailers. Authors try everything to attract readers to their latest book offerings. And the million dollar question is always, "What works best?"

Two of my friends recently celebrated the launch of their first book, DESPERATE HOUSEDOGS, the first in the new Pampered Pets mystery series by Sparkle Abbey. At several recent book events, the debut authors really impressed me with the thought they put into their promo items and giveaways.

Between their publisher-created book trailer, large colorful poster, bookmarks, postcards, dog treats and human treats (chocolate in the shape of a bone), these authors obviously put a lot of thought into their promo and presentation.

Certainly, some books and series lend themselves better to clever and unique promotional items, and authors and publishers continually try to evaluate which ideas provide the best return on their investment.

Questions of the day:

Authors: What promotional items have you found give you the best result for your promotional dollars?

Readers: What promotional items do you most like to receive from authors?

With more of the responsibility for promotion falling to authors, it's crucial we figure out what works best and focus on those opportunities so we can spend more time writing the books our readers are waiting for.

I won't be blogging on Thanksgiving so I want to wish all of you a very happy Thanksgiving. And if you venture out on Black Friday, be careful out there!

~Bullet Hole~

Pumpkins on the porch and Christmas in the bag

2011-11-16T07:57:00.003-06:00

Okay, so I know Halloween is over. I've taken the witch off my porch, the light-up bats out of the trees, I even took down my favorite decoration - the skull door knocker that sings songs until his eyeballs pop out. Literally. I love that guy.

But one thing I haven't been able to do is take the pumpkins off the front porch. Maybe it's because I can justify them - well, they're a symbol of the harvest, and we haven't had Thanksgiving yet, right? Never mind that they're probably frozen to the front stoop by now.

Still, I think the real reason the pumpkins have survived is, well, because they made it through a season in my garden. That means they ARE survivors. For those of you who haven't heard me rant about my garden, let's just say it's usually the place where plants go to die. I've killed tomatoes, lettuce, cucumbers, three kinds of peppers, onions, strawberries watermelons and a particularly hardy lavender (Someone told me it would ward off rabbits and deer. Ha! They just saved it for dessert).

This year, I planted pumpkin and watermelon in the main garden. Almost immediately, the pumpkin vines ran all over the watermelon. I didn't care because it meant something, anything was growing in the garden. Yeah, just call me Martha Stewart. In the end, we had five - count 'em - five pumpkins this fall. It was the first successful gardening year ever. (As long as you don't listen to my husband when he questions exactly what happened to the tomatoes, peppers, watermelon and strawberries.)

We carved two of the pumpkins. The kids glued sequins all over another one. But the last two are still looking plump and gorgeous on the porch. So, as far as I'm concerned, they can stay. Sure I passed them yesterday going into the house with a bag full of holiday-themed books.

Which gives me an idea...Christmas pumpkins, anyone?

Santa Came Early This Year...

2011-11-15T08:32:00.002-06:00

After the week from hell, three days with a raging fever, and six days on antibiotics, Sunday I finally felt well enough to venture out. Well, okay, if I hadn’t been headed to the Apple Store to buy my new iMac, I would have skipped the whole thing.

I’d been holding out for two years because my beloved iMac G4—aka MacGorgeous was six years old (that’s about two in Mac years), and still ran like a champ, making it difficult to talk myself into plopping down the money to buy a new Mac when there’s absolutely nothing wrong with the old one. Of course, with enough incentive, I could talk myself and anyone else into just about anything so it’s not surprising that I somehow managed it. It did help that my daughter’s PC went to the big Windows Cloud in the sky, and like her mama, Twinkle Toes is a Mac Girl. I decided that I’d go even greener—I do drive a Prius after all—I’d be even more environmentally friendly and recycle MacGorgeous, though there are some who might call me cheap, but let’s not even go there. I doubled the memory, put a little bounce in MacGorgeous’s beach ball, and with a tearful goodbye willed him to my daughter which seemed apropos since I felt like death…

I had been so excited, I was finally getting the iMac of my dreams. The one I would visit anytime I was within a twenty-mile radius of an Apple Store. The Mac with a screen big enough to land a plane on. AKA—MacDreamy (sigh)—the 27-inch iMac proving the old adage that size really does matter.

But by the time my husband and I got home, I didn’t even open the box. I just asked DH to set MacDreamy up because I needed a nap. I was almost happy it took eight hours to complete. Who knew strep throat could pack such a punch?

Monday began early with my youngest waking me with 103 fever—yeah, she’d been feeling like crap since Saturday and I’d been delusional enough to think she had a cold. I told you I could talk myself into anything. I had no idea that cleaning up MacGorgeous and setting up MacDreamy would take all day when done in the midst of dealing with a sick kid and doctor’s appointments. On the bright side, the lovely Apple Care people and I are now intimate friends.

Imagine my surprise when my son came home from a half-day of school (yeah, I’d forgotten about the whole half-day thing) so it was a double surprise when I noticed he carried a box addressed to me containing my new book, Wild Thing.

So to celebrate, my new book, my new iMac, and the loss of MacGorgeous who, I might add, looked stunning sitting on my desk right next to MacDreamy, I’m giving away two copies of Wild Thing to a lucky commenter. Reading your comments will give me something to do other than take care my son, who woke up this morning claiming illness too. Yeah, Santa really did come early…

Where Does the Time Go?

2011-11-14T09:55:00.004-06:00

Seriously, can anyone tell me? It's NOVEMBER! Thanksgiving is next week. Then Christmas will be along shortly after, then it will be 2012. Where did the year go?

I am fairly certain I spent it in a work-related haze, but I did get quite a bit done this years, so there's that. Next year, I'll have four books out with Harlequin Intrigue to show for all my hard work, so I'm not going to complain about the lack of personal life, or the pedicure I needed two months ago, or the fact that my acrylic nails are currently up to Cruella deVille length and still going.

Maybe next week I'll have time to worry about such things, but not this week. This week, I'm BUSY.

In good news, the cover for my 2/2012 Intrigue release is finally here and it's fabulous. What do you think? I think the cover gods continue to smile on me.

Isn't it creepy and really cool looking? I just love the color and the house and it's sooooooooo like my description in the book.

So what do you have planned for Thanksgiving? Do you do the whole cooking thing? I don't as no one wants me to cook. I bring paper plates and cups. My mom does most of the cooking and my dad fries turkeys. There is nothing quite like fried turkey. YUMM!

Deadly (now hungry) DeLeon

Lather, Rinse, Repeat

2011-11-11T08:32:00.003-06:00

It's Veteran's Day, so before I go any further I just wanted to take a second to thank our military men and women for their service to our country. You're our heroes!

Anyway, because it's Veteran's Day, I have off from work today. Which means that I got to sleep in and also take my time getting ready for things, since I don't really have any schedule today. And in the life of a full-time working mommy of a toddler, this means that I had the chance to actually wash my hair for the first time in days.

Yeah, I know it's gross, but I've found that the longer my hair is, the longer I can stretch the time out between washings. Just pull it up into a bun or in a clip or in a ponytail, and nobody knows the difference. I am supremely lazy and would much prefer that extra 20 minutes of sleep in the morning.

But today I decided to take advantage of the extra time in the shower. I'm 36 weeks pregnant at the moment, so pretty much everything on my body aches on a constant basis. (Mind you, I'm not complaining. I'm thrilled to have made it to 36 weeks! My toddler was born at 34 weeks.)

Anyway, I decided to let the water massage my back and while I did so, I looked around for some reading material. Since I was in the shower, all that was available were the shampoo bottles.

Yeah, I was that desperate.

So I'm reading the instructions and came across that cliche: Lather, Rinse, Repeat.

Have you ever stopped to think about those instructions? It's like a perpetual circle.
Step 1: Lather
Step 2: Rinse
Step 3: Repeat

OK, so I go back to Step 1 and lather again. Then Step 2 tells me to rinse. And then I'm back to Step 3, so I have to repeat. And now I'm back to the beginning.

When exactly are you supposed to stop? How many times are you supposed to repeat?

And who actually has the time anyway to repeat? I know I sure don't.

Speaking of not having time, since I figure I could basically have this kiddo at any point now, I've scheduled some fabulous guest bloggers for the next couple of months while I go on maternity leave. I hope you'll enjoy them!

Plagiarism For Idiots

2011-11-10T01:57:00.001-06:00

For those who haven't heard, Little Brown recently recalled a book titled, Assassin Of Secrets once it was discovered that the author (who is using the pseudonym Q.R. Markham) plagiarized several passages from other published novels. Now whenever I hear cries of plagiarism I always approach the complaint with skepticism. For instance, if I wrote the sentence: "Her heart caught in her throat as she watched him walk away," and it was later discovered that an author (or several authors) had written that same sentence I could rightfully be accused of unoriginality but calling it plagiarism would be a step too far. Using clichés is never a great idea but it's not an act of theft.

But this guy used sentences like this:

Then he saw her, behind the fountain, a small light, dim but growing to illuminate her as she stood naked but for a thin, translucent nightdress; her hair undone and falling to her waist—hair and the thin material moving and blowing as though caught in a silent zephyr.

Which just happens to be the exact same sentence used in a James Bond novel titled License Renewed penned by author John Gardner. It's hard to argue that's coincidence. "The thin material moving and blowing as though caught in a silent zephyr," just isn't a phrase people go around saying.

When I heard this my first thought was not, How could Markham do this?! No, it was What an idiot. I mean, really? Not only are you going to plagiarize but you're going to plagiarize by lifting the most descriptive sentences you can find from a James Bond novel??? If he had plagiarized from a stand-alone backlist novel from a little known author that would have been bad and, thanks to the internet, he probably would have been caught but at least he wouldn't have been caught right away! Perhaps Markham is unaware of this but lots of people like James Bond! Particularly people who might buy a novel titled Assassin Of Secrets! He also plagiarized from bestselling author James Bamford. Once again, "Bestselling" is the key word here. In the incredibly unlikely case that some of you are as dim as Markham allow me to explain that, "bestselling" means that Bamford's books have been read by a lot of people.

This is kind of like robbing a bank filled with security cameras without so much as a ski mask. You might be able to do it but you're obviously not going to get away with it.

And what's really sad is that Little Brown published 6,500 copies of Assassin Of Secrets. All that work stealing other people's words and it didn't even earn him a decent print run.

There are so many lessons one could take away from this. Don't plagiarize, be honest, don't cut corners and so on.

But really, if you are only going to learn just one thing from this let it be this: Stupid people shouldn't commit crimes. It just works out badly for everyone.

Kyra "Fashionista Fatale" Davis

PARADISE BY THE RIFLE SIGHTS is out!

2011-11-09T02:00:00.001-06:00

Okay, so it's technically been out for a couple of weeks, but this was the first chance I got to say it on this blog. Paris Bombay's novella is available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Smashwords! So buy it today!

Jana & Leslie's Excellent Adventure!

Jana and I had a great time in Florida at the Novelists, Inc. conference last month. We drank, ate, and learned some stuff. We had an awesome view from our Tropical Suite - which, while it did NOT, in fact, come with a toucan, had a toucan motif.

The food was good, the company better - and I took a notebook full of notes. Although I did feel a bit Amish using something as prehistoric as a pen and paper, when everyone else was clicking away on iPads around me. What? I like to doodle.

The speakers came from Penguin (not the bird, to my disappointment), TOR, Barnes & Noble, Smashwords, among others. And the authors were smart, funny and not to be patronized - which is nice.

At the same time, in the same hotel, there was a mixed martial arts conference and an herbalist conference. The lobby reeked of testosterone and Patchoulli.

The biggest message was that this is the best time to be a writer. And seeing the post where Gemma says she sold half a million ebooks last year, I think they may be right.

So now that PARADISE is up, I'm going to get to work on another project - a collection of short stories featuring Bombay hits through history. I think that will be fun... almost as much fun as if we'd had a live toucan in our room. Maybe next year...

The Assassin

Welcome Guest Blogger Gina Robinson

2011-11-08T03:30:00.004-06:00

Winners please contact me.. Mo and Krisgils, please contact me about receiving your prizes from the What's On My Kindle blog.

Okay...I have a special treat for you today. Gina Robinson is one funny lady. Gina's book, The Spy Who Left Me will make you laugh and sigh. And today she's offering a copy to one lucky person who leaves a comment. So make sure you post!! I'll announce the winner on top of this blog tomorrow morning, so make sure you check and send me your snail mail address to receive your prize.

CC

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Test Your Spy Romance Susceptibility

What if Rhett Butler HAD Given a Damn? by Diane Kelly

2011-11-07T00:01:00.007-06:00

A while back, I wrote a manuscript that included some characters from Ireland. To get a feel for their language and culture, I loaded my Netflix queue with Irish movies and watched as many as possible. My family was patient for a week or two, then they tired of me hogging the DVD player. They rebelled and logged into the Netflix account, rearranging the queue to add some zombie, action/adventure, and chick flicks to the mix. Thus, my selection Rory O’Shea was Here, was pushed far down the list.

Slowly the movie worked its way back to the top, and last weekend it appeared in my mailbox. I’ve long since finished the manuscript with the Irish characters, but figured I’d go ahead and watch the movie anyway. It was here, so why not?

The movie was touching and poignant, even funny at times. The plot involves two disabled young men in their early twenties, both of whom are wheelchair bound. One has cerebral palsy, and the other, Rory O’Shea, suffers from muscular dystrophy. The two live in a home for the disabled. Rory has difficulty dealing with the loss of independence and strives to find a better life for himself and his new friend.

I don’t want to spoil the movie for anyone who might see it, so I won’t give specifics about the plot. But after I watched the movie, I noticed my TV screen displaying the option to watch an alternate ending. I clicked on it and watched.

The alternate ending was more uplifting and pulled the themes together more fully. But it also tied up everything very neatly and didn’t leave the viewer with as much to think about afterward as the original ending did. If given a choice, I'd have to say I preferred the alternate ending, though both endings had their own merits and were satisfying in their own ways.

Have you ever read a book or seen a movie that you wished had ended differently? How would you have ended the story? We’d love to hear about it!

Diane Kelly is the author of the humorous Death & Taxes romantic mystery series. Her debut novel, Death, Taxes, and a French Manicure is in stores now. Visit Diane at www.dianekelly.com

My Self-publishing Milestone

2011-11-04T03:00:00.002-05:00

I wanted to share with you fabulous Killer readers that I’ve hit a milestone. After looking at my sales numbers from August of this year, I realized that I have sold over 500,000 ebooks since I started self-publishing last year. That’s half a million books sold! :O Color me shocked. And happy!

To celebrate this milestone that I never would have dreamed I’d see when I first started writing, I thought I’d do a small series of posts on self-publishing. A lot of authors I know lately are going the self-published/indie published route, and I noticed that I see a lot of the same questions being asked over and over again. Very good questions, too, and ones that I had when I first started self-publishing. I know some authors have published books like “the secret to my self-publishing success”, but I thought it would be a lot more fun (and more free!) to answer some question on this blog instead. So, here are a few questions I get a lot, and some answers that I hope make sense:

1. Do I need an ISBN to self-publish?

That depends on where you’re selling. If you publish through Barnes & Noble’s PubIt! or Amazon’s KDP they will assign you a special internal number for your books, so you do not need an ISBN. If you publish through Smashwords, you do not need an ISBN at some of their vendors. But, if you want to have your books available in the iBookstore (either directly through Apple or through a distributor such as Smashwords), then you do need an ISBN.

What I’ve done: I currently let Smashwords distribute my books to the iBookstore, and have used the free ISBN option that Smashwords provides. I do not use this ISBN anywhere else but Smashwords.

2. How do I format my books?

My best advice is to look at the Smashwords style guide for formatting, becuase if you can get through Smashword’s system, your formatting will work just about everywhere else. You can then convert your formatted word doc into a variety of digital file formats to upload to the different sites.

What I’ve done: This may draw gasps of horror from my fellow self-pubbers, but I upload my word docs directly to Amazon, BN, and Smashwords. I don’t bother with converting myself. Then again, I’m not very picky about paragraph alignment or having it spaced *just* so. As long as it looks readable and professional, I’m good.

3. Where do I get my covers?

There are a ton of freelance cover artists doing self-published covers, so ask around. Prices vary (as does quality!), so be sure to do a little browsing before choosing your artist. Generally $100-300 is what I’ve heard of people paying at the moment for good covers. Or, you can always make them yourself.

What I’ve done: I do all my covers myself, because I love playing with Photoshop. I buy stock photos from Fotolia.com, which has a really great selection and very affordable pricing. Then I do a little cutting and pasting – sometimes moving one model to another background, or adding small items in, like a gun or knife in her hand. I try to work with large files, usually 300 dpi, so that they’re also good quality for print covers. Generally, I tend to spend about 1-2 days on a cover and around $30.

4. Can I self-publish paperback books too?

Yes! There are a few different places you can do this, though Createspace and Lulu are two of the leaders right now. Both put out similar quality books and neither has high set up fees. Createspace does have a premium option, which I would suggest purchasing (I’ve made my money back in the first month on every book), but there is not a lot of cost involved.

Once the print books are up for sale, they distribute to Amazon and BN, so make sure that they link to your ebook versions in the systems. One place you will not see them, however, is in physical bookstores. Most booksellers will not stock print-on-demand books or self-published books. They can special order them, though, so they are available to readers, just not on shelves.

What I’ve done: I go through Createspace for my print books, and it’s been very easy and I’m very happy with the quality. I honestly don’t sell a ton of print books – WAY fewer than ebooks – but I know there are some readers who only do print and really appreciate having that option.

5. How do I market my self-published titles?

This is a personal choice and everyone’s mileage will vary. The very best thing I have seen to increase sales is to have several books available. So write fast! ;) Other than that, get word of mouth moving. Research bloggers or reviewers that review self-published titles and send them all a copy. Join indie writers’ groups and participate like heck. Get a great website going and sign up for Facebook.

What I’ve done: You’re going to hate me but… nothing. Okay, so I already had a website and this blog when I decided to jump into indie pubbing, so I had a bit of a presence and a handful of loyal readers already. Which has helped. But I have done nothing beyond that to market my books. I just write more books.

The one thing I have done is make sure I have slammin’ covers, interesting blurbs, and make sure I categorize and use search keywords that are in line with my target audience.

6. What kind of sales can I expect to see?

This totally varies. But, across the board, I see self-published books starting with small sales and building. Unlike print books, they don’t have a short shelf life where you expect to see a big spike in sales in week one, then a slow decline over time. Totally the opposite here. The longer my books are up, the better my sales have grown. So don’t be discouraged if they start out small, and it takes a few months to pick up to where you’d like to see them.

What I’ve done: I’m going to do a whole post later this month on my exact numbers, royalties, and what they’ve meant to me in terms of income (yes, I'm dishing it all, baby!) but just as a comparison… in my first month of self-publishing I sold more ebooks than I had sold print books (through a traditional publisher) that entire year.

Anyone else have other self-publishing questions? Ask anything!

~Trigger Happy Halliday

Men and romance

2011-11-02T03:00:00.001-05:00

Being a severe book addict/lover, I belong to several reader loops. They're great for recommendations and to make friends who don’t think you’re crazy for staying up all night to finish the latest JR Ward. I mean who really needs more than three hours of sleep anyway, right?

So you can imagine my surprise when a member outed her husband this week. It seems she’d been missing a copy of her favorite paranormal romance. She assumed she’d accidentally packed it in with her wad-o-books for the used bookstore. She resigned herself to the fact that it was gone forever…until she went into her husband’s dresser drawer a few weeks later.

She’d been looking for stamps and found her romance. Hmm…When confronted with the evidence, he admitted he wanted to see what the fuss was about and, well, he likes paranormal romance. She laughed. Very hard. In fact, everyone on the loop got a kick out of it. Why? Because there’s nothing wrong with a man liking romance. In fact, it’s pretty darned nice that he wants to read a great story about a couple who fall in love.

I’ve had several men at my signings, fantasy and sci fi fans mostly, who enjoy the paranormal elements in The Accidental Demon Slayer. Of course, most of them were quick to point out that they saw the book at the front of Barnes & Noble and didn’t realize it was a romance at the time.

But still, I have to question a stigma where an entire group of people are somehow forbidden to enjoy a good story. So what do you think? Do you know any men who read romance? And if not, I wonder what we can do to show them it really is okay.

The Good, The Bad, and The Disco

2011-11-01T07:38:00.002-05:00

By Robin 'Red Hot' Kaye

I’ve been an avid collector of two things for as long as I can remember—books and music. I’ve kept them with me all my life though seven states, and over thirty-five moves.

When I was younger, I could name every move, in order, and I could have given you the street address too. I’m not sure I’d be able to remember my every move now, but when an old song comes on the radio, or the iPod, I can tell you where I lived when it was popular. It’s the same with books.

I know I lived in Mount Laurel, NJ the year Elton John’s Philadelphia Freedom was all the rage and read Judy Blume’s Forever and Louis Nizer’s Reflections Without Mirrors.

I lived in Reston, VA when a friend of my mother’s let me hang out at her apartment and read her prized collection of Wizard Of Oz books in exchange for walking her dog every day after school. That was the same year the songs Wildfire and Shannon brought tears to my eyes along with the book, Watership Downs.

I read JRR Tolkein’s The Hobbit and Jeffrey Archer’s Not A Penny More, Not A Penny Less one of the summers I spent in Westhampton Beach, Long Island while tapping my foot to Billy Joel She’s always A Woman To Me.

I lived in Mountain Lakes NJ when I first heard Elvis Costello sing about Watching The Detectives, and read The Thorn Birds in one sitting. It was also about that time I got in trouble for reading The Carpetbaggers and A Stone For Danny Fisher during my Harold Robbins phase.

Keeping my favorite books and music close to me has always been so important because wherever they were was home.
A year ago, my DH (dear husband or damn husband depending on my mood) moved our storage from one room to another—this happens quite often when you’re restoring a hundred year old Victorian. Every time DH faces this task, everything I’ve loved and saved for years is in jeopardy of going the way of the dumpster. I became a victim of Get-rid-of-this-stuff-because-I-refuse-to-move-it-again syndrome. This time my entire record collection was placed on the chopping block. I refused to consider taking it to the big turntable in the sky and I’m so happy I’m more stubborn than he is.

During one of my weekly shopping jaunt to Costco, I spied something I haven’t seen in years. I swear I heard the angels sing—although it might have been Jim Morrison. There before me was a turntable! Yes, I wasn’t seeing things. It was a real, honest to God turntable that connects to a computer and plays, downloads/records (both 45’s and 33’s) to iTunes!

Last night, I opened my box of albums and found my family history. There was my grandparents’ operas and their Italian comedy album, Pepino the Italian Mouse. A BJ Thomas album that I’m sure was one of my parents’. The first Sesame Street Album that contained my favorite song on the show—Oscar the Grouch’s I Love Trash. I walked down memory lane through my southern rock phase, my hard rock phase, my jazz phase, and sadly, a short and very painful disco phase. I found everything from James Taylor to Tubular Bells, Bradford Marsalis to Gilbert and Sullivan. On my bookshelves and in that box of albums, I have a musical and reading history of my life—the good, the bad, and the disco. No matter where I was, I always had a book to read and good music to listen to. I’m a very lucky person.

What’s on your bookshelf and on your iPod?

Happy Halloween!!!!!

2011-10-31T09:11:00.003-05:00

Today's the day of ghosts and goblins and even more important, marathon television runs of horror movies! I'm not actually doing anything for Halloween - after all, it is a work day (and the worst day - Monday), I don't have kids, and my neighborhood is sorta quiet. bah humbug

But in keeping with my normal Halloween tradition, I did see a scary movie this past weekend. I saw Paranormal Activity 3. So here's the skinny; I didn't think it was all that scary. Mind you, I have never once actually been scared by a movie, but I know creepy when I see it. IMHO part 3 is not as creepy as either 1 or 2. Part 3 took us back to the sister's childhood, supposedly to explain how the demon (or whatever) came to start haunting them. There's a HUGE gap left in between when the demon shows up and how they get to adulthood. I suppose if they continue to make money on this story, there will be a Paranormal Activity 4-68. Another complaint I have is that the cool things shown on the coming attractions were not in the movie. WTH? So they use stuff to draw you in that isn't even in the final cut? What is that - the Hollywood version of bait and switch?

Anyway, it was all right, but not the best creepy I've seen, which was very disappointing as I haven't seen a good horror movie in forever. I guess I'm going to have to break out my own collection.

What about you? Do you do anything special for Halloween?

Deadly DeLeon