Justice (Deck of Lies, #1)

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The Tower (Deck of Lies, #2)

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Death (Deck of Lies, #3)

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Judgment (Deck of Lies, #4)

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Hope's Rebellion

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Showing posts with label guest posts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label guest posts. Show all posts

Guest Post Excerpt: The Secrets of Yashire

 Today, Jade's blog has been taken over by author Diamante Lavendar. Read an excerpt from her new book "The Secrets of Yashire: Emerging from the Shadows."

 The Secrets of Yashire: Emerging from the Shadows


Opening her eyes, Brianna gazed into a clear blue sky illuminated by warm, hazy rays of sunlight. She slowly turned her head to look around. She was lying on a carpet of soft, green grass. All around her she heard the sweet, cheerful songs of birds as a playful breeze rumpled her long black hair. Where am I? She tried to raise her head but a hot, sharp pain shot through it.

Ow! I have one heck of a headache!

Gently, she lay her head back down. As she stretched into a more comfortable position, she noticed the clothes she was wearing; a white, ruffled blouse and a long, purple skirt. She was vaguely confused but couldn’t figure out why. Suddenly a strong urge to sleep overcame her.

Closing her eyes, she listened to the birds and felt the warm sun soaking into her skin. The soft breeze caressed her cheeks and pressed the tendrils of her hair against her forehead. Gently, she was lulled back to sleep.

Brianna was awakened by a swishing sound nearby.

What was that?


Writing 101: Choosing a Title

Choosing a title can be one of the hardest parts of writing a book, and I should know. I had finished a book almost in entirety before I managed to figure out what the title was supposed to be. I struggle with it every time, but not all authors do. Today's guest author has found a creative way to avoid titling her own book, in fact: she's turned it into a promotional tool.


Book Titles and You

Guest author Roselyn Jewell is staging a unique contest to figure out her book's title. See my thoughts on writing book titles, and maybe you can help Roselyn come up with hers. Now here's Roselyn:

Hi everyone,

My name is Roselyn Jewell and I have recently made my first foray into the YA genre! Previously I’ve written almost entirely romance novels, but I came up with what I think is a great idea for a YA series and I’ve finished the first book in the series, which will be offered as an e-book in early March. In preparation for this, from now till March 1st, I’m running a contest where you get to submit suggestions for the title for the book! The prizes are:

A) The book will have the title you selected + one of the characters’ names will be changed to your name

B) You’ll win a free copy of either the final version of the YA book or a free copy of any other book that I have out

C) Your name will appear in the acknowledgements section of the book

You can read the full details, which include a synopsis of the book, at http://www.roselynjewell.com/1/post/2015/02/name-my-next-novel-contest.html.

Please feel free to send any submissions, suggestions, feedback, questions, etc. to me at Roselyn@roselynjewell.com. I'm also on social media as jewellromance on Facebook and Twitter. Good luck everyone!

 Roselyn Jewell

Untitled

Hilary lives in a world that is supposed to be "perfect." The government provides all of the basic necessities and if you want "luxury" items you can take on non-governmental work or odd jobs to earn luxury dollars to buy pretty much anything you could desire. The downside? She's assigned a career she hates, a place to live that she's never even been to before, and a guy she's supposed to marry that she's not even sure she likes. In fact, she's not sure she can ever feel that way about any guy, period. Oh yeah, and this all happens to everyone when they turn 17. Hilary tries to make the best of it but goes through a series of events that make her question who she is as a person and whether or not "perfect" can ever really exist, no matter what they want her to believe. 


About the Author



I'm an author, a wife, a mother, a friend, a sister, a daughter, and so much more! I've always loved reading and found myself wanting to continue the stories I loved so much, which is how I started writing. Now I've finally reached my dream of being published. My novels are mainly romance, though there are a lot of other elements as well. My books prove that you can have the romance and the passion without having to sacrifice great plot lines or strong character personalities.





Guest Post: Using Wattpad to Promote Your Book

Today we're joined by author M.J. Austin for a guest post on using Wattpad for marketing.

You have published your book and it is online, but you aren’t getting any sales. What’s wrong here? Most likely, it is simply because nobody knows your book is "out there." It can be extremely difficult to get your book out there, especially if you are being self-published.


That’s not to say that when you have a traditional publisher that it is super easy. Many publishers today require you to do your own marketing.  There is a multitude of options when it comes to marketing your book. You could do a blog tour or focus on social media, but those aren’t the only options.

What is Wattpad?

Wattpad is a critiquing style platform that allows authors to upload either portions or the full copy of their books for others in the community to read and comment on. Amanda Hocking, a very successful YA author has used this platform to uploaded samples of her books for users to read and purchase on sites like Amazon. 

Guest Post: Writing Inspiration

 Today, Jade's blog is pleased to welcome author U.L. Harper!

To this day I get asked about my inspiration. Where do I get my ideas from? I think I’m inspired by what everybody is inspired by.

Being Inspired

For the longest time I thought I was inspired by Kurt Vonnegut. Damned proud of it too. Cat’s Cradle is a classic in my book, and Slaughterhouse Five opened my eyes to the world, even if I never read the first four (just kidding). It impressed me and still does.

After reading Chuck Palahniuk’s Fight Club, I was sure that it was the prototype for every first-person present-tense novel. Violent, honest, sardonic, moving, and funny with a twist, not to mention short and at a third grade level. I figured I was influenced by Chuck, and proud of it.

And then there was Clive Barker and his Weaveworld, Imajica, Great and Secret Show novels. Works to live by. I’m not even going to bring up Hellraiser because that’s opening a box I don’t have time to explore right now. When I was reading him, I figured Barker was an influence too. His language, his special kind of action violence… Yep. Clive was my guy, and proud of it.

They were just a few of my influences, until I started actually writing novels.

Once I started writing, I didn’t see Kurt Vonnegut’s wit or timing or poignant yet lighthearted storylines coming out of me. I had none of Barker’s eloquence, and I had no idea how to present a horror or fantasy idea. Not at all, well, until recently.

This is what I found: I’m influenced by the people around me. I’m influenced by the life surrounding me. I liked Fight Club for its coverage of social issues for young men. A book for dudes my age at the time. I was twenty something when it came out. Don’t do the math. I’m not afraid to say I’m twenty-one again in December. It’s the same reason I loved Cat’s Cradle so much, as well as Slaughterhouse Five. They weren’t influencing me; they were what I needed at the time. Yes, a map. A guide, but my writing has almost nothing related. They’re part of me but not necessarily as a writer.

Let me put it a different way. It’s imperative for everyone out there to know that ideas aren’t made in a vacuum. Authors don’t sit in a room writing down ideas not knowing where these ideas come from. The ideas, the inspiration is close to us. Or, at least they’re close to me. I’ll just speak for myself, I guess.

Here’s an example of a story idea. Took my whole life to come up with:

When I was a kid, in return for a house, my parents took on the responsibility of taking care of my great grandmother who had Alzheimer’s. The experience rocked me. I couldn’t for the life of me understand why she was urinating in the closet and flinging it out into the kitchen. It felt odd to have her eating dinner after we ate. I just couldn’t quite handle the idea, but it stuck with me. My mom later told me that my great grandmother believed she was a young child in Kansas and that she basically had no idea who we were.

Now hold that idea. Jump forward about eighteen years when I get a phone call right before work telling me that my grandfather had died. You know, in my first novel, I mixed my grandfather, in his post-stroke wheelchair and pot belly with my Alzheimer stricken grandmother and there you had my influence for my main character in The Flesh Statue. Not the protagonist, for those keeping track, but the main character.

Years later, having the environment on my mind a little bit I came up with another bright idea.

For my novels In Blackness and its sequel In Blackness: The Reinvention of Man, for influence, I found myself looking out at the world and asking the question that everyone asks at some point: Why are we not food? I’m going to tell you right now that that’s how horror novels start. No vampires, no werewolves, no demons, but still, why are we not food? Then I found the answer.

The point is, the world around me has always been a huge influence. Why do people react to certain things? What’s the history on why they reacted to it? What’s their background? The authors I love so much? Well, I still dig them, and they have a place, but that place is for entertainment value. What gets me going is the same thing that gets people up for work every morning. I get my ideas from the same place kids do when they say uncontrollable wacky things. I’m inspired by the same thing that inspires probably every artist.

I’m inspired by the world around me. Yes, the whole thing.

Keep reading for an excerpt of In Blackness: The Reinvention of Man by U. L. Harper



Lenny sipped from a cup of coffee at his booth. The Best Little Road House, a diner in Salem, Oregon, was warm, dry and safe. Most of the tables were filled, with only a few waitresses helping serve everyone.

All these people eating and ordering food as if nothing was wrong. Like The Visit never happened. He couldn’t begin to forget, couldn’t shake the moment when dozens of people were beheaded and skinned right in front of him. Sometimes when he closed his eyes he’d helplessly replay the event in his head.

Because of the experience during the invasion four weeks ago, Lenny had been fueled by fear. The aliens that slaughtered so many had subsequently given him the mission of bringing people who had been given implants like him back to San Pedro.

His stomach muscles tightened. This happened for one specific reason—his implant affected him physically when another person with one was near. The other person didn’t necessarily know they had an implant. It took him his entire life to find out that he had one. He had followed the signal into the diner. Hopefully whomever he followed, they would become obvious.

 At the beginning of his journey he wondered how long his trip to find subjects for the aliens would be. How far would he have to go? Realistically, his small amount of money would dictate the length of his travels. All of his savings from his pizza delivery job was spent on meals, motel rooms and gasoline.

A girl about eighteen, his age, exited the restroom. She had on hiking boots and an oversized backpack. Her partial dreadlocks fell over her shoulders. Heading his direction down the aisle, she stopped next to him and made eye contact before taking a seat at the booth next to his. Leaning forward, she wriggled her arms out of the backpack straps. The look she gave him made him self-conscious. Did he look as dirty as he felt? He didn’t normally grow a lot of facial hair but when he did let it grow, like he did now, it grew in patches of peach fuzz.

“Are you okay?” he said to her.

She showed him a weak smile. “Just need to sit. Looking for a ride.”
 
“To San Pedro?”

Her eyes lit up. “That’s a hell of a guess. How would you guess something like that?”

She was definitely the one. “Crazy you come sit right next to me. Go figure.”

“Yeah, go do that. You’re heading to San Pedro too?”

“About to split town.”

“Then I’m Celeste. I can get a lift, yeah? I travel light.”

“You just have that?” He nodded to her backpack.

She picked up the bag with one hand and then let it drop. "Jesus, a ride would be nice. Where are you from?"

“Washington, actually.”

“Where in Washington? I’m from there.” The pitch of her voice became high when she mentioned Washington. Her bad grooming led him to believe she had been traveling for a while.

Celeste moved across the aisle to his booth, leaving her backpack in the aisle. “You seem all right."

"I pass the murderer test?"

"I mean you seem all right." She leaned forward and whispered, “I haven’t eaten all day. Can I drink some of your water?”

“Have at it.”

She drank down half the glass. “So what part of Washington are you from?”

“Lowery, originally. Small little place, right…”

“I know Lowery. My dad was born there.”

“Lowery doesn’t have a hospital,” he said. “Nobody’s actually born there.”

“Delivered in the kitchen, I shit you not.” Although she seemed embarrassed by the fact, she chuckled.

“Well damn. I was there up until I was nine or something. Maybe ten.”

She finished off his glass of water. “I need to get there.”

“Need to? To San Pedro?”

“I guess need is a bit heavy but, yeah, whatever. I need to.”

“Did you hear what happened there during the invasion? You wouldn’t want to go there if you knew about it.”

“It didn’t only happen in San Pedro. Plenty of people suffered.”

“Did you lose anybody?” he said.

 “Everybody.”

“A lot of people lost everybody.”

“I’m one of them,” she said. “You lose everybody too or is this your idea of small talk?”

“I’m just saying why San Pedro? I didn’t mean to be insensitive. Still, San Pedro?” She didn’t know she was going there to have a meet and greet with the aliens and probably be killed. He’d help her get there, nonetheless. It didn’t feel right but he had to do it.

“Why are you going?” she said.

“Family.”

She gazed at the ceiling and then looked around, avoiding eye contact. “Just a feeling I have. I can picture myself there. You know?”

He leaned back in his seat. If she knew him better she’d know that guilt had taken him by surprise.

“Let’s get you something to eat,” he said. “A sandwich?”

“You’re offering?”

“Only this time.”

“Ham and turkey. I’m vegetarian but fuck that I’m hungry.”

“I’m Lenny. Good to meet you, Celeste.”

“Thank God I met you, Lenny. Thank goodness for rides. Lucky.”

“I wouldn’t use that word luck too loosely.”

She unzipped the big pocket on her backpack, looked inside it and then zipped it back. Then she unzipped a smaller pocket, looked inside and closed it, too.

He knocked twice on the wood table. “You have gas money?”

“I thought you were already going there.”

“It’s still gas, right?”

A waitress stopped at their table and asked to take their order.

Moments later a turkey and ham sandwich with mustard and mayonnaise oozing from the sides of it was set on the table.

With her mouth full of sandwich, Celeste looked like a rodent storing nuts in her cheeks.

She spoke a garbled, “Thank you. Starving.”

This might have been what it was like feeding the homeless on skid row.

Once she finished her sandwich they prepared to leave.

Outside, his four-door hatchback waited for them in the wet parking lot.

Celeste tossed her backpack in the back seat as he started the engine.

“Here we go,” he said.

***

He hid his dread of being inside the motel room from Celeste. For the time being, he had a hard time in the dark, in enclosed places. He couldn’t keep his hands from shaking, thinking of his experience during The Visit. If he could make it all the way back to San Pedro without sleeping he would. Since that wasn’t the case they had stopped for rest. No way would he let her drive his car. She seemed cool but why trust her?

She drifted to sleep, leaving him alone on the end of the bed to stare at silent news clips on television. One of the clips enticed him to turn up the volume. In the clip, the alien ship slowly fell through high puffy clouds and blocked out the sun. Daunting in scope, the ship had spanned from San Pedro to Washington. The sight of it would be talked about for generations and then some. His biggest fear was right there on the screen.

“Have you seen that before?”

He hadn’t realized she was awake. “Oh, no. Never seen that. Don’t know why. I guess in the few weeks since it happened I haven’t stopped to really… Wow.” The television showed another visual similar to the one he had looked at seconds ago. This time the amateur video caught news helicopters flying far underneath the ship, really nowhere close to it. During the time the footage was taken, he and Saline were in Lowery, Washington, being captured and shipped to San Pedro. On the news is what the general public had seen. What the living public didn’t see were the aliens. Basically everyone who had seen them had been murdered in the slaughters.

Looking at the screen she said, “Does this feel like the end of the world to you?”

“I think it’s the start of something.”

“So it’s the beginning, not the end?”

“My thought is that nothing can go back to how it was. Not completely. I don’t think so.” Then he lied down, accepting the consequences of closing his eyes.

"You don’t think the worst happened?”

“I saw people getting their heads chopped off. We were in a room with people getting skinned. Just… Crazy like you don’t want to know or see.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to picture it.”

“I’ve never heard… How’d you get out? You escaped?”

“Just thinking about it screws me up.” He held his right hand out for her to observe its shaking.

“I’m sorry.”

It was nice showing someone how much of a basket case he had become. It felt like confession. All this despite the fact that she’d be dead soon.

Someone knocked on the door.

He dragged his feet over to it and stuck his eye to the peephole. A woman in her early to mid-forties was smiling at him. She waved, and then knocked again, in her jeans and black hooded sweater.

He unlatched the lock and cracked the door open.

The woman kicked the door into him, smashing him in the forehead so hard that he saw stars. He fell to the floor grabbing his face with both hands. The intruder slipped past him.

With his face to the dusty carpet he heard two gunshots and then the thud of what he thought was Celeste hitting the floor. He looked up at a handgun aimed at his skull. With the gun at his head, cowardice took over. “They made me do it.”

“Wha...” The woman gazed at him in disgust and slightly confused.

She still had the gun pointed at his head but he figured second thoughts about harming him had entered her mind.

He turned his head and got a glimpse of Celeste’s motionless ankles and legs. Breathing heavy, he turned his attention back to the gun aimed at him.

“Who made you do what?”

“The aliens. They made me get her.” He hoped on everything he loved that she respected the notion.

After some consideration the woman lifted her weapon and smacked him over the head with it. She hit him again with a fist to the cranium, and then kicked him in the stomach. Still catching his breath, he coughed as she ran out the door.

Curled in a ball and in tears he let the initial pain run its course. Attempting to push himself to his feet, he placed both hands on the floor, groaning.

The woman rushed back into the room. “We’re pulling that implant out of you.”

“Wait! Wait!”

She shut the door behind her. “Yell again and I kill you.”


About the Author



U.L. Harper is an author from Long Beach, California. A former newspaper writer and poet, he published his first novel, The Flesh Statue in 2005. His hobbies include, skateboarding, basketball and the occasional glass of bourbon. Yes, bourbon as a hobby. 
You can reach him at ulharper1@gmail.com. His latest novels are In Blackness and its sequel In Blackness: The Reinvention of Man. You can reach him on twitter @ulharper

Writing 101 Q&A: Small Press Instead of Self-Publishing

Today I'm pleased to host Jac Wright, author of The Reckless Engineer. He's a little different than the other authors I feature on the blog: he's not self-published. I decided to pick his brain in a Q&A session, and learn how different he is from the indies I've known.


Q&A with author Jac Wright

JV: I see that the main character of The Reckless Engineer, Jeremy Stone, has an educational background similar to your own. How much of the character is modeled after you?
Jac Wright: Great question.  A lot of Jeremy’s character is modeled after me and my good friend, but even more is modeled after what I should like to be.  Jeremy lives the ideal life I should like to live and I live it through him.
JV: You’re an engineer, like your main character. If I don’t understand the first thing about engineering, will I still be able to enjoy and understand the book?

Jac Wright: Of course you will.  You will understand and enjoy the books just like you would enjoy the engineer Barney’s role in the old Mission Impossible series; like you would enjoy Indiana Jones movies without knowing much about archeology; and like you would enjoy Star Trek without being a physicist.  Everything is detailed in terms that a non-engineer would understand. The thing you would enjoy is his courageous and adventurous nature. Engineers are very good inventors and problem solvers. You will therefore enjoy his versatility and resourcefulness like that of MacGuyver, and his ingenious skills and problem solving abilities. 

JV: Your books contain a lot of drama and conflict. When you want drama, which authors or TV shows do you turn to?
Jac Wright: I grew up watching Tales of the Unexpected which is based on Roald Dahl’s adult books, the old Mission Impossible series, the Perry Mason series, and MacGuyver. My father and I had our favourite seats in front of the TV for the shows every week. At one time, I used to read Roald Dahl and Erle Stanley Garner as if I were possessed.
I also love more modern series like Columbo, Monk, Dexter, The Good Wife, and the new BBC drama Death in Paradise. As you can see, they are mostly suspense and legal drama, like my books.
The authors I adore are Patricia Highsmith, Roald Dahl, and Charles Dickens.  Secondly I also like Ian Rankin, Benjamin Black, and Michael Connelly.
JV: You’re also a published poet. What inspired you to start writing full-length novels?
Jac Wright: I studied poetry, drama, and literature for 14 years at weekend Speech & Drama school my mother enrolled me in when I was 3. Poetry was the first thing I wrote that was not for some coursework; and I started writing poetry when I was at university at Stanford and kept writing over the years. I called the collection "Shades of Love.Later on I started adding short stories to the collection.  I have about half a dozen short stories written ,which I separated out to a new series under the title "Summerset Tales."
It just occurred to me that I should write a full-length series about 2007.  One requires some level of maturity and life experience to write with impact, and I felt I was ready about this time. I knew I wanted the series lead to be an electrical engineer like me, and I knew I wanted the series to be suspense-driven psychological thrillers.
Then I knew I wanted the first story to be based in Portsmouth, Charles Dickens’ birthplace, as a tribute to the author whose works taught me how to tell a tale early in life. I have loved English literature since I my mother enrolled me in weekend Speech & Drama classes when I was 3 years old.  My mother had this rack full of books like The Pickwick Papers, The Tale of Two Cities, David Copperfield, Lorna Doone, The Animal Farm, etc. stacked on it along with piles of Readers’ Digests. She used to read to me from them when I was too young to read; and soon I was reading them myself.  That sparked my interest as a reader and a spectator very early and Dickens’ stories were a large part of those childhood tales.
That was how The Reckless Engineer series was born.
JV: Your publisher, Soul Mate, specializes in romantic fiction. Do you consider The Reckless Engineer to be primarily a romance?
Jac Wright: Soul Mate Publishing is expanding out to other genres.  There are romantic undercurrents in The Reckless Engineer, but it is primarily suspense fiction.  The Reckless Engineer and The Closet each examines a lead protagonist who is driven by romantic love and passion; each tale examines how it can blind the protagonist and how much trouble it can get him into.  Hence, both stories are strongly romance-driven.
JV: How did you find Soul Mate Publishing, and did you ever consider self-publishing?
Jac Wright: Once the manuscript for The Reckless Engineer was finished, I had to send out about 60 letters enclosing the first fifty pages of the manuscript and a SASE (a self-addressed stamped envelope) in each.  Then it was a long process of answering responses to the queries and protracted negotiations. It was not a difficult process, but it was lengthy and time-consuming. I got offers from 6 publishers and I know I have picked the best because of the instant rapport I felt with my editor.

JV: How much impact did your agent and/or publishers have on The Reckless Engineer series?
Jac Wright: The main story was already written and the plot and characters have remained the same in essence.  However, there was about a 2 month long editing period with my editor, Debby Gilbert, from Soul Mate Publishing.  That process transformed the story by adding depth to it.  Debbie guided me to add more visceral emotion and scenes that engaged all the senses, and not purely vision.  One editing note she put on the manuscript has stuck to my mind. She had crossed out the last sentence in a chapter and had edited the one before, adding the note: "You never and a chapter on your protagonist going to sleep.  It is a cue to the reader that he or she can do so, too."  That’s right, reader, we intend to keep you up at the edge of your seats all night long.
JV: What’s your next project?
Jac Wright: Two more – The Bank Job and Buy, Sell, Murder – are half-written.I have started the fifth, In Plain Sight, with just the plot and the main characters designed and only the first chapter written. I hope to finish writing at least two of them in 2014.

Love is a battlefield. Who will come out of it alive?

Harry Duncan Wood runs a hotel in the historic city of Bath with his beautiful young wife. When he falls in love with Mill House, an old greystone farmhouse on the banks of river Avon among the soaring hills of Somerset, and sets about moving his family there, the first appearances of the cracks in the marriage take him by surprise. Is his wife seeing another man? Duncan needs to get to the bottom of the affairs for his own sanity. Sometimes, however, ignorance is bliss and will also keep everybody alive.

Jac Wright is a published poet, a published author, and an electronics engineer who lives in England. The Closet is the first in Wright's collection of literary short fiction, Summerset Tales, in which Wright explores characters struggling against their passions and social circumstances in the contemporary semi-fictional region of England called Summerset, with an added element of suspense. The collection is published as a series of individual tales in the tradition of Charles Dickens' The Pickwick Papers and Thomas Hardy's Wessex Tales. The first Summerset tale, The Closet, accompanies the first title in the author's full-length literary suspense series, THE RECKLESS ENGINEER, published by Soul Mate Publishing, New York.


About the Author

Jac Wright is a published poet, a published author, and an electronics engineer educated at Stanford, University College London, and Cambridge who lives and works in England. A published poet, Jac's first passion was for literary fiction and poetry as well as the dramatic arts.


Jac also writes the literary short fiction series, Summerset Tales, in which Wright explores characters struggling against their passions and social circumstances. 

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Guest Post: Cost-Cutting Editing

by Leti Del Mar

Everything I have ever come across in regard to self-publishing says I should get my work edited.  Even those who don't self-publish are still urged to have their manuscript edited before submitting it to agents or publishers.  It makes sense to have your work edited, but it can also be incredibly expensive. I asked around for someone to edit my 82,000 word manuscript and the price range was $500 to $1,500!  ...And that was people just getting started in the business, not those who come highly recommended.


What if you're just starting out and uncomfortable with spending that much money on editing?  What is an aspiring writer to do?  Fortunately, I've got some cost-cutting suggestions!

When it comes to editing for content, you absolutely need another pair of eyes looking over your work.  A free way to do this is to ask a beta reader to read your book.  A beta reader is someone who will read your work and then give you their opinion. It is a good idea to have some questions in mind you want to ask about plot, characters and setting. A good beta reader will give you his or her general ideas and point out inconsistencies or troubled areas.  I've had great success connecting with beta readers on message boards. Try Goodreads groups, World Literary Cafe and the Kindle boards.

  • Sway students. If you want a more personal touch and are willing to shell out some cash, try your local college or University. It is amazing what $50 will buy you. Post a notice asking for English students to critique your work.
  • Swap edits. Use those message boards to find other authors willing to swap edits. Ask for a thorough edit and have them consider grammar, spelling and punctuation.
  • Swap services. Are you handy with graphic design? Swap a cover design for an edit with another author. Are you super duper organized and have contacts with book bloggers?  Perhaps you could swap organizing a blog tour in exchange for an edit.  Hit those message boards and advertise what you can do in exchange for a good manuscript edit.

There are also some great websites out there to help you edit your work.  Grammar Girl answers all sorts of grammatical questions for free. Auto Crit will assess your work and search for things like overused words, spelling mistakes and some grammar issues. You can try it for free, but their packages start at about $50 a year. I love Grammarly! It does a wonderfully thorough job of searching your work for all kinds of grammatical mistakes.  Again, you can try it for free. Ttheir packages start at around $20 a month.

Are these options as good as hiring a professional editor? No.  However, if you are just starting out or if your books have not sold enough that you can justify investing $1500, these suggestions will help you put together a more professional product -- whether you are self-publishing or submitting to agents and publishers.


Want more cost-cutting advice? Check out my book, How To Self-Publish: A DIY Approach. It is available on Amazon for just $0.99.


About the Author

BioLeti Del Mar lives in sunny Southern California with her husband, daughter and abnormally large cat. When she isn’t writing, reading or blogging, she is teaching Biology and Algebra to teenagers. Leti is also a classic film buff, passionate about Art History and loves to travel.




 Leti's blog    Amazon    Goodreads     Facebook   Twitter





This book is for anyone who has ever considered publishing their own work but has either thought the process seemed too complicated or too expensive. My newest book will hold your hand as it guides your manuscript from your word processor to a formatted e-book and paperback. It will show you how to launch and market your book, get reviews, and use social media to establish an author platform. I promise to show you how this can all be accomplished for less than you would spend on a week's worth of lattes!


My Do-It-Yourself Approach is full of useful advice and practical tips any author new to the world of self-publishing can easily implement.

The best news? I am not alone in this endeavor. I have teamed up with 6 other authors who represent a wide variety of writers including; Craig Hurren, Victoria Sawyer, Carmen Stefanescu, Clancy Tucker, Melissa Wray and Lee Zamloch. They have each contributed their insight on topics like the importance of research, coping with bad reviews, creating a brand, utilizing feedback and much more!

Blogger Book Fair Spotlight: Jaded Hearts

Indie author Olivia Linden is stopping by the blog today with her book Jaded Hearts. Keep reading to find out how you can get it!



Synopsis


At 24 years old, Jade Spencer's life has hit a brick wall. Haunted by the mysterious abandonment of her mother, she found it was easier to live in the shadows of someone elses expectations.  From the strict authority of her  grandmother, the unwillingly guardian to Jade and her brother, to a controlling fiance who she can't seem to please, denying her feelings has been a necessary coping mechanism. Reality has suddenly come crashing in under the strain of denying her own dreams for so long, and for once, Jade is ready to live life by her own rules.

It's time for a fresh start. Turning away from the disappointment of her past, Jade ditches her shady fiance and packs her bags for New York City. With help from her aunt, she looks forward to her new future, her fabulous apartment in the city, a new job, and new experiences. Two fated encounters complicate her world when they both lead to unexpected and powerful emotions. She struggles with her desire to embrace these new feelings, and her habit of denying what she truly wants. In this not so classic love triangle, with a hint of mystery, Jade learns the hard way that sometimes intentions can mean everything and nothing at all, and no matter how far you run from the past, it's never too far behind.

Will she find love or will she leave a trail of jaded hearts? Love, secrets, and lies are all on the menu.


Excerpt From Jaded Hearts

Central Park was streaming with people clamoring to enjoy an unseasonably cool Sunday in July and it was just like I imagined. There were people sunbathing; playing with their pets; jogging; rollerblading, and just strolling along like I was at the moment as I headed to meet John. I was in awe of how green and lush the landscape was compared to the cement and brick metropolis that surrounded it.
Once John found out that I hadn’t checked it off my 'things to do in NY list', he insisted that we come here this weekend. I spotted him walking towards me looking like a college student, down to the backpack he sported. His golden hued hair was longer than usual, and was lightly wind tousled and he sported his signature sleeveless tee this time in white with red shorts and a pair of throwback Jordan’s.
Jordan’s?
He smiled at me and I could only imagine I didn’t look much different with my hair pulled back into a high bun, a snug white wife beater and coral colored shorts that stopped mid thigh and all white old school Adidas. We walked into an easy hug having spent so much time together lately that we were more than familiar. I pointed to his sneakers
“Nice kicks!” I joked.
He glanced down quizzically at his choice in footwear. “What? Are you kidding? These are classic!”
I just shook my head as we linked arms and set off to stake our claim to a blanket sized plot on the big lawn. We settled on a spot that was relatively less crowded and I watched as he set up the blanket, two pillows, a large thermos, hummus, crackers and chips with onion dip.
“Wow, you are really prepared! I’m impressed. What’s in the thermos?”
He shot me a sly grin and handed it over for my inspection, watching as I opened it sniffed and tasted the mystery drink.
“Yum, is this Riesling?” I took another sip.
“Very good Ms. Spencer. You’re a lush after my own heart.”He teased.
I threw the top of the canister at him.
We spent the afternoon relaxing together. Sunbathing with a good book is a very much underrated experience. Well, partial sun because it had grown considerably overcast as we enjoyed our picnic, which was probably what contributed to the cooler weather.  I reclined back on a pillow slightly perpendicular to John while using his torso as a foot rest. My oversized Channel shades concealed the fact that I had stopped reading the hilarious Abe Lincoln Vampire Hunter, and was watching him instead. He was intently covering each page of an old National Geographic edition.
Nerd!
A very handsome nerd though, and I could watch him all day. It was so cute the way his eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed slightly as he read. I found myself wondering how his lips tasted. Just then he looked at me and I pretended to be just looking up from my book and he shot me a wink.
Could he tell I was staring at him?
I flashed him a smile.
So what if I was looking?
Especially since I caught him studying me when he thought I wasn’t looking. Often.
After a while he closed and pulled his aviators down.
“So how’s your book?” He asked as he grabbed one of my bare feet and began to knead and rub.
Ah that feels good!
“It’s really not bad. I was skeptical when Donna told me that she was reading it, but it is funny and holds your interest.” I raved.  
He continued to massage my thankfully pedicured foot.
“I don’t know, but I’m having a hard time picturing our sixteenth president hunting and killing vampires in his spare time. Vampires?” He shook his head with speculation.
I laughed in agreement.
“I know! I did too, but I’m telling you it’s crazy because it’s mostly a true story so it almost makes you want to believe the parts that are farfetched.”
He didn’t seem swayed.
“Well, how about I just take your word for it because I don’t plan to read it.” I pulled my foot away and waved my other foot at him for attention.
“Or, how about I read it to you?” I suggested.
John cocked his head to the side as he tugged my foot lightly pulling me of my pillow.
“I think I like that. That’s a creative compromise Ms. Spencer.”
I giggled as I repositioned myself on my pillow and began reading to him about Abe Lincoln meeting Edgar Allen Poe in New Orleans.
Just as I finished the chapter I was reading a splatter of water hit my book.
I knew it smelled like rain.
I looked at John who was wiping a drop from his nose and then we both scrambled to pack up our garden party.
The downpour hit just as we were scurrying out of the park. John grabbed my hand and I followed him as he ran a few blocks west of the park to his building.
“You can wait it out with me until it clears up.” He offered.
I nodded in silent agreement at his suggestion. I was soaked and my bun came loose somewhere between the pouring rain and the running. His building was older but it was very well maintained. We took the large ornate wooden stairs up to his second floor apartment and I leaned up against him involuntarily for warmth at the air conditioned hallway. He opened his door and pulled me into the apartment with him. I wrapped my arms around myself as he put down his back pack.
“Let’s get you warmed up. OK?” He rubbed my arms before he disappeared down a hallway, I assumed to his bedroom.
I loved his place. It had a totally dark wood, Sherlock Holmes without the clutter feel to it. There was a large bay window in the living room that was surrounded by floor to ceiling bookcases on either side. His sectional was light brown micro suede that went perfectly with the tone of his wooden floors. I walked over to one of the bookcases to marvel at his book collection but a glass door at the bottom caught my attention. It housed a record player accompanied by a rather large record collection. Elton John, The Beatles, Neil Diamond, Michael Jackson, Dionne Warwick and Burt Baccarat, Led Zeppelin, Motown Greats, The Big Chill Soundtrack. There had to have been well over 100 records. I kept flipping through and stopped when I spotted the Isley Brothers.
Yes!
I turned on the sound system and gently dropped the needle on the groove for the first track.  
“You find something you like?”  I heard John shuffle back into the room while I was loading the album, and turned around to face him with glee as the soulful ballad filled the room.
He stood there shirtless, his wet hair disheveled and holding a big T-shirt and towel for me. I was captivated by the definition of his body. He wasn't bulky, but chiseled. Every muscle was defined, even the hard lines that led to his hips stood out. He didn’t have a six pack, he had a ten pack.
The look in his hazel eyes was unmistakable as he looked me up and down and I realized what I must look like. My hair hanging in wet spirals around my T-shirt that was soaked, and plastered to my body revealing my black lace bra, and all of my curves.  I flushed red hot even more aware that I was now aroused. I stood wordlessly as he walked over to me holding up the accessories to get me dry.
“You must be freezing,” he observed. '
Every step he took closer to me made my heart beat faster and faster. He thought I was cold.
Not quite. 


The Sequel to Jaded Hearts, Only Her Heart, will be released August 19th!  Check out the trailer for a sneak peek.



Only Her Heart trailer


About the Author


Olivia Linden, a native New Yorker, was raised between Queens and San Antonio, TX. Currently living in Florida with her 10 year-old son, she decided it was time to follow her dreams of becoming a full-time author. Her creative itch began when her elementary school principal posted one of her stories in the halls of her school. She was only seven at the time, but old enough to understand how integral writing would be to her future. From that moment on, reading and writing became her two greatest passions. 

Olivia is a newbie to the industry, but she hasn’t stopped writing since she found her literary voice all those years ago. Jaded Hearts, her first published novel, mixes her big personality, with a sexy yet humorous tone. It is her philosophy that laughter is essential to making it through even the toughest situations.


Find your passion with Jaded Hearts by Olivia Linden.