I’m beyond excited to share my new cover for my upcoming release, The Fool. Cover designer James at www.goonwrite.com has made all of my gorgeous covers thus far, and I’m continuously impressed with his professionalism and skills.
The Fool is a prologue for my yet to be released serial Games We Play, and is a novella intended for mature readers. ARCs will be available later this week, and you can either get them through me, or through the release day/review tour that is on the go for December 28th.
Interested in participating in the tour? You can sign up here! If you are just interested in a review copy without the pressure of posting by December 28th, get in touch with me!
Book Blurb
One night can change everything.
That’s what they always say, and for now, vampire hunter Delia hopes it’s true. After years of mediocre performances, she’s still nothing more than a grunt in her hunter league, stuck on surveillance duty and low-level vamp busts.
So, when her informant drops an amazing lead in her lap, she jumps at the opportunity to take down the region’s rumored vampire leader at an invite-only masquerade ball. Clad in a mask and uncomfortable dress, Delia throws herself into the fray—only to realize she’s woefully unprepared for the night that awaits her.
Also… Some ridiculously attractive guy dressed as the Fool keeps distracting her.
One night. One job. One man. One chance to change her life.
All she has to do is not screw it up.
The Fool releases December 28th, 2015 for free on Smashwords and its premium retailers. January 28th, 2016, it will be available on Amazon and online retailers for $0.99.
So, if any of you have ever followed me when I talk about Emm Cole, you’ll know I’m absolutely obsessed with her. She’s a phenomenal author. The first book I read of hers was The Short Life of Sparrows, and she’s been kind enough to off a signed paperback copy along with this interview. It’s fucking fantastic, so you ALL should enter for a chance to win!
I won’t ramble on for too long, because I could go forever. Instead, allow me to present the stunning Emm Cole…
1. What medium do you use to write? Desktop? Tablet? Pen and Paper?
I fill up a lot of notebooks with dialogue for important scenes, just because it’s quicker to jot it down while I’m remembering it. I also text myself ideas when I think of something I know one of my characters would say or do, but my actual draft is written on my desktop.
2. What are your thoughts on e-books vs. “traditional” print, both as a reader and a writer?
People seem to love e-books, and as a writer I love that e-books can be conveniently downloaded at a cheaper price. It’s all about getting your story out there to people, and e-books are a fantastic way to do so. As a reader I have to admit that I rarely read e-books. I just love having a tangible book in my hand, and there’s something sentimental about being able to put my favorites on a shelf where I can see them when I’m done reading. Occasionally I’ll read an e-book, but if you look at the shelves in my house it’s pretty clear I have an addiction to papebacks.
3. Tell me about your debut novel. Looking back, what are your feelings toward it now?
My first novel MERMINIA was about two warring mermaid clans and a mermaid who has the ability to heal wounds with her hands. She becomes a sort of pawn in the back and forth. It’s a darker take on mermaid lore with no humans in it, and it was a lot of fun to create an entire world beneath the waves with its own customs and culture.
There are probably countless things every writer learns the more books that they write. MERMINIA will always be special to me though, because it was the catalyst for realizing how much I love making mythical worlds and coming up with ominous twists.
4. What is the sweetest thing a reader has ever said about your work?
I had someone email me to say that they cried so hard after reading The Short Life of Sparrows that they had to call in sick to work the next day. It’s not that I set out to leave anybody in the fetal position, but I really was touched that my characters meant that much to a reader that they were that affected by how it all came together.
5. Who would you want your main character portrayed by in the film version of your book?
For the Short Life of Sparrows it would be Karen Gillan (from Doctor Who) for Calli.
Isaiah has loose, thick hair and dark eyes, so somebody like Kit Harrington.
The only person I can picture from Hollywood that I think has Rowe’s swagger and nonchalant attitude would be Travis Femmel (who plays Ragnar on Vikings.)
Here’s a spot to pimp one of your writer friends… GO! (Or to gush about a recent fave read)
Sara Mack is one of those indies who knocks it out of the park. Her stuff is just an auto-buy for me after reading her Guardian series. Her two newest books are contemporary while Guardian is a paranormal romance trilogy with the coolest take on ghosts. Not many authors can switch up the genres like that, but Sara has this total knack with characters. I have read all five of her books, and every one of them has been one of those you read entirely in one day because you can’t put it down.
The Nightbloods and Seers have many buried secrets, and some of them are deadly.
Does real love even stand a chance against the darkest of magic?
Emm Cole is the author of THE SHORT LIFE OF SPARROWS, a Gothic Romance, which was an award winner for Readers’ Favorite in 2015 Supernatural books. She is also the author of MERMINIA and KEEPING MERMINIA, a Young Adult Dark Fantasy duology.
Emm is a self-admitted night owl who likes sweaters, rainy downpours, crazy prints on socks, way too much coffee, high stacks of books, Johnny Cash & The Rolling Stones at hideous decibels, the ocean, and movie marathons.
Her funky imagination tends to be equal parts whimsically pretty and morbidly sinister. Emm plans to keep developing unique magical realms, one book at a time.
For more on Emm’s books visit www.emmcole.com. Emm loves to interact with other writers and readers.
Did you like what you read about The Short Life of Sparrows? I highly recommend it, and you now have a chance to win a SIGNED PAPERBACK COPY from the author!
To thank Emm for offering such a sweet prize, I’ve also thrown in a $10 Amazon gift card — which you can then use to purchase The Short Life of Sparrows, right?
Well, I officially have a release date for The Fool! December 28th marks the release of the paranormal romance novella, which is the prequel in the Games We Play serial. The King, first in the serial, will debut in 2016.
If you like vampires, masquerade balls, vampire hunters who suck a their jobs, and heroines who don’t put up with bullshit, this piece will be for you. While you wait for the serial itself to release, why not give the prequel a try?
The Fool will be free for the first month of its release, and will then be on sale for $0.99 on all major online retailers. ARCs are available. If you wan to participate in a review tour or a release day tour, I’m also working with my usual promo company to get something going.
Check out the book on Goodreads for all the dirty details, and you can creep my inspiration board on Pinterest too to get a feel for the book.
But this is about a teaser, right?
Sorry I kept you waiting…
Image Credit: http://intothegloss.com/ (Please note the original link keeps disappearing, and if anyone can give me a more appropriate credit link, please do.)
Harriswood sat in the dip of a valley, surrounded by tumbling hills on one side, pine forests on the other two, and a lake to the north that was always too cold for swimming, even in the balmy summer months. It was a painter’s dream, drawing hundreds of tourists in the warmer months for hillside camping and downtown partying.
Little did they know the city was home to a few old vamp clans always looking for their next meal or gang grudge to settle, along with two packed high schools full of surly, destructive human teens aching to escape to somewhere bigger and better.
Delia had come from bigger and better. She preferred Harriswood.
Midway through her examination of the penthouse suite pics posted on the Banesview Hotel’s website—something she could only dream about experiencing first-hand—her phone shrieked obnoxiously by her side. The damn thing was new, and she still wasn’t quite up to speed on how to change the volume or silence a call. After nearly dropping her laptop, she grabbed the phone and swiped her finger across it, too flustered to even check who was calling at four in the afternoon.
“What?” she demanded, assuming it was Hugh calling back to give her another piece of his mind for hanging up earlier. The voice on the line chuckled, and she immediately felt heat rise to her cheeks. It wasn’t Hugh—not even close.
“I’m sorry,” Kain said smoothly, his familiar deep rumble making her sit up a little straighter. She was a sucker for accents, and the Irish hunter always managed to get the better of her—professionally and privately. “Did I wake you up?”
“No,” she mumbled, slowly closing her laptop and setting it aside. Of course it’d be Kain calling her—gorgeous, brown-eyed, shaggy-haired Kain with abs that could break a man’s fist on impact. “I was just…I just got off the phone with Hugh. Thought he might be calling me back.”
“You really need to hire a better informant, Dels. Hugh’s shit.”
“I dunno,” she said as she stood, pacing between the couch and the window of her apartment. Down below, traffic had started to pile up as people fled the downtown business district, probably hoping to start their weekends early. “He usually gives me pretty good leads.”
“I’ll tell my guy to cut you a deal in the future.”
Delia could almost hear the smile in his voice, and she wished she couldn’t. He was probably only doing it because he’d snuck away without saying anything the last time he spent the night at her place. It was never fun to wake up to a raging hangover and an empty bed. While she’d been hurt at the time, the incident had been easy to brush off; Kain, like many of the hotshots in their league, male and female, wasn’t looking for anything serious.
“So what’s up?” she asked, perching on the wide set white window ledge, her knees bent up to her chest and an arm wrapped around them. “Anything I can do for you on this fine afternoon?”
“Me and the guys are headed to McKinney’s tonight,” he told her, and she practically melted hearing him say the bar’s name with that scrumptious Irish lilt of his. “Want to tag along? I can pick you up on the way.”
“Aren’t you on patrol tonight?”
“Switched shifts with Garret,” he said.
Down below, a woman’s purse seemed to have spontaneously combusted in the middle of the intersection, its innards scattered everywhere. While Delia felt bad for her, she couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the roar of horns that blared once the traffic light switched to green and the woman was still there collecting her things.
Kain cleared his throat on the other end. “What’s funny? Something I said?”
“Oh, no…” Delia rolled her eyes as the woman continued gathering her things, cars inching around her to make the light. If they stopped rushing her, maybe she’d stop dropping things. “Just watching the usual disaster outside my window.”
“Wish I had an apartment on Main Street. I’d never need a TV. Always a show over there, day or night.”
“Yeah, that’s totally why I don’t have cable,” she said with a sigh. That and all the local cable packages were ridiculously expensive—even more so than the bigger and better city she’d moved from once she turned eighteen. She’d always expected smaller towns to be less of a drain on her wallet, but she’d slowly learned that wasn’t the case, not in Harriswood anyway.
“So you comin’ or what?” Kain demanded, and she was pretty sure she heard him opening a can in the background.
“Was that a beer?”
“Stop changing the subject, Dels.”
“I…”
She licked her lips, wanting nothing more than to climb into the front seat of Kain’s car and breathe him in. He was a catch, through and through, aside from his sheer unwillingness to commit to anyone.
Oh, and he couldn’t show up to any bar, pub, or club without a girl on his arm. Her buzz dampened a little when she wondered just how many other girls in his hunter social circle he’d tried to call before he dialed her.
“I know you’re not working,” he wheedled playfully, which brought a smile back to her lips. “I checked the schedule. Come on. We’ll drink, play darts…maybe I’ll feel you up in the parking lot again…”
She scoffed, her cheeks starting to hurt from grinning.
“Wow, how can a lady resist such a perfect evening?”
“Right, so I’ll pick you up then?”
“No,” she said, not sounding quite as assertive as she would have liked. “No, I’m…I’m okay. I’m not really feeling a bar night.”
The stunned silence on the other end made her bite her lip, knowing full-well that he’d probably see through her lie in ten seconds flat.
“But you love McKinney’s,” Kain insisted slowly, as if working through her excuse aloud. “And you like hanging out with the other hunters. Beer usually gets you anywhere…”
She replaced her lip with her pinky nail, staring out the window, wincing as he slowly poked through her lies.
“…Dels, are you—”
“I’m training tomorrow morning,” she said a little too quickly, gripping her hand in a fist to keep her from biting her nails. “I don’t want to be hungover.”
“Since when?”
“Since the last time I barely made it through warm-ups,” she argued. That much was true, at least. “I’m just having dinner with a friend instead, then it’ll be an early night.”
Kain’s continued silence stumped her; either he’d swallowed the story and was annoyed he’d lost yet another female companion to escort to the bar, or he still wasn’t buying it.
“You don’t do dinner with friends—”
“I do so!” Her voice cracked, and she wrinkled her nose, knowing she’d given herself away.
“Chatting with Hugh…for… Oh Jesus, Dels.” He huffed noisily into the phone, and she slid off the wide white window ledge, pacing again. “Please tell me you didn’t fall for that masquerade bullshit the snitches have been trying to sell everyone all week.”
The heat that flooded her cheeks this time was no longer from that sexy accent. Instead, she felt every eye roll, annoyed glare, and pitying sigh the other hunters threw at her on a weekly basis. Squaring her shoulders, she tried to keep her voice even.
“Kain, I don’t want to go to the bar tonight—”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he said, groaning. “You are going, aren’t you? Delia, it’s a crock of shit.”
Oh. Shit. Wrapped up in the action already? You’ll just have to snag your free copy December 28th.
My author interviews aren’t strictly for authors who are currently published. Meet Holly Evans, an indie author who specializes in the paranormal and is putting out the first book in her three part series soon! She’s an active little lady on twitter, so make sure you pop over and say haaaaay after the interview.
Without further ado, Miss Holly Evans, ladies and gents!
What was your first experience with writing?
Hmm, I went to a Catholic school when I was very little (up until I was 9) and we had to write our own take on a Christian parable. We also had to write our own fairytale. It was an interesting challenge for a little kid, trying to make something new from something I was already so familiar with. I don’t remember the parable I worked with, but I know I loved the princess and the pea at the time (I was maybe 6) so that was the fairytale I went with.
Did you enjoy writing in school?
We didn’t do much creative writing in school. I despised literature analysis, I felt as though the teacher was inserting themselves and their high flown ideas onto the text. They were looking for things that stroked their own ego. I did really enjoy writing essays and such though. I didn’t come to creative writing properly until I was in my 20’s.
How do you get through days when you just can’t write a single thing?
I try to focus on other things, I’ll plan if I can form the ideas in my mind. Or I’ll walk away completely, get out the flat, head out to a bar, rant at my poor husband! I try to make sure that the pressure and the stress is minimal, it quickly becomes a vicious cycle if I’m not careful. So if I can’t write, I don’t force it, I step away and do other things. If it extends past a day then I usually end up going on a big reading kick where I devour books until i feel I can write again.
Tell me a little about your upcoming release.
I’ll be releasing the first three books in the Infernal Hunt series. It’s a paranormal thriller series that follows the twins Evelyn and Quin. They’re hunters, their role is to keep the supernal community of Prague in line. Usually that’s as simple as putting down rogue lycans, keeping the redcaps from killing too many tourists, nothing too difficult. Of course everything changes with the first book, Infernal Ties. Quin heads out to put down a rogue lycan, but he doesn’t come back. That leads to Evie doing whatever it takes to get him back, the end result is the beginning of a much larger story where their lives are never the same again. I can’t say too much more! It is a quick-paced, actiony story that gets quite dark.
What are you most excited about with this upcoming release?
Is it bad if I say getting the cover art? I love art, especially cover art. Aside from the art, it’s sharing the characters with the world and dancing around while I hope people love them as much as I do. I’m all about my characters and I really want a Lysander for myself!
Here’s a spot to pimp one of your writer friends… GO! (Or to gush about a recent fave read)
This is where I get to gush about a writer friend. It has to be Jessica Wynn, she’s currently writing Within, which is a tense, atmospheric, paranormal thriller. She’s serialised it and is posting chapters as she writes them on Juke Pop. The premise is really fun and interesting, I’m really enjoying how tense she makes everything and as a reader I’m not quite sure what’s going on – in the best possible way. I look forward to reading more chapters and definitely recommend it to everyone.
Infernal Ties: Book 1 of the Infernal Hunt series.
Quin had gone out on a routine hunt. All he had to do was put down a rogue lycan. He didn’t come back.
Evie’s Quin’s twin. They’re hunters. They keep the supernal community of Prague in line, but this time they’ve failed, and someone (or something) has taken Quin. It’s down to Evie to turn the city upside down and do whatever it takes to get her twin back, before it’s too late.
Holly Evans is a bubbly, passionate writer of paranormal thrillers. She throws herself whole-heartedly into everything she does, whether that’s creating a delightfully evil elf or discovering new coffees to savour. When she isn’t writing she enjoys finding new bars, restaurants, and relaxing watching action movies with her husband.
Gather round, wee children, and allow me to regale you with yet another cautionary tale of youthful idiocy. This post was originally written in 2014, and to date, this is still my absolute worst experience as a freelancer.
Knock wood, I guess.
I’ve been a freelance writer for about a year now. I don’t do it full-time, and I’m usually pretty selective about the projects I work on. For the most part, I tackle ghostwriting, beta reading, and the occasional proofreading gig here and there. I like freelancing. I like that it funds my self-pub bank account, and the projects have, for the most part, been a lot of fun. My clients have always been polite and prompt, and some have asked to work with me for multiple jobs.
But that’s not what I’m here to talk about.
No, I’m here to talk about my most horrifying experience with freelancing… ever.
I mean, so far. I’d like to think it can’t get any worse than that, and I chalk a lot of the ridiculousness up to my own naivety with freelance work. This happened a few years ago, back when I was still an undergraduate and looking for ways to expand my writing portfolio—before I discovered we actually had a writing program at my university.
Right. So a few years back, naïve-me was perusing the local media and creative ads on kijiji. Anything and everything that had to do with writing was volunteer work (as a lot of gigs are these days), so imagine my shock and surprise when I found an ad that was calling for fictional ghostwriters—and offering to pay $30 per page.
Just let that sink in. I thought someone out there. Would pay. Me. $30. Per page. To write for them.
I was thrilled, obviously. I applied right away, forking over some of my smuttier fanfiction pieces, as this was a smut-related gig. Basically, the whole premise was that clients would email the owners of this… company (?) scenarios that they’d like to see, and the job would then be forwarded to a ghostwriter to write.
Seems… kind of legit?
I was put in contact with the owner of the site fairly fast, and he gave me a trial story to run with. I was blown away. If I could make $30 per page for a 15-page story, I could quit my day job. Write full-time. I’d be rolling in cash. Fuck university, amirite?
I churned out my first story in about a week, leaving my wrists in a world of hurt, but feeling rather accomplished. Feeling professional.
And he loved my piece. I’d needed to do a bunch of research to make it specific to the request, and he thought I did a great job. That day, he emailed over a contract, and I printed it out to sign.
Now, let me break down the terribleness of this contract. First of all, it was a single page, and the majority of said page was taken up by a picture of some books on a shelf. Below it were, if I recall, two sentences that said all work belonged to this company, and the writer would receive $30 compensation per page. Just like he promised.
It was real. It was happening. I signed it, photocopied it, and then sent it back. Within a week, I had my first real job, and within another week I was sending my story in. A few days passed, and the owner emailed me to let me know the client liked my story—but there could have been more sex. Whatever. Fine. I’m just a writer, not an editor. I’d do better on the next one.
It was time to fatten up my bank account, please.
I then received an email with a link to a chatroom, and the owner asked if I could meet up on there to talk with other people who worked for him later that day. I was… a little turned off by the idea, but I figured I’d give it a shot. I signed in with the username and password he gave me, and was immediately swarmed by random users wanting to strike up a conversation, none of whom had realistic names.
So I waited. If I remember correctly, the owner had given me a screen-name of one of his employees to chat with, and when he logged on, I started a chat with him.
It was then that I learned what I was supposed to be doing. On top of writing smutty stories for clients, I was now expected to roleplay sex scenes in an online chatroom, and all the users who had bombarded me were clients waiting to play.
#meforever
Uh. No.
The initial ad for the job had made no mention of this, and when I politely declined, saying I was only interested in writing the stories, the employee tried to get me to play out a scene anyway—just to see if I’d like it. No. No thanks. I said it over and over again. I said I didn’t have time to spend on this between school and work and my other writing (plus a meagre social life). I was polite initially. I grew firmer the more he fought me.
So he fired me on the spot and kicked me out of the chatroom. I was then contacted by the owner, who said the employee told him I’d been very disrespectful and rude, and was officially fired.
I sent an email back saying that that was incorrect, that I just wasn’t interested in roleplaying, and he sent me a succinct response.
“Contact me again and I’ll call the police.”
Me too, Bilbo. Me too.
I don’t even know where to begin to say how incredibly awful this whole experience was for me. My wrists were in agony after pushing myself through the two stories, and all thoughts of being able to quit my part-time snooze-fest of a job went up in flames. I was devastated.
And obviously totally unaware of how freelancing worked. When I look back at it now, I have serious doubts that I’d see any money from all this, especially not $30 per page. Thankfully, I didn’t let the ordeal sour me to freelancing. When university came to an end, I found a legitimate site to work from, with rules and regulations and amazing staff in place to ensure freelancers don’t get screwed over.
Take this tale as a lesson, kiddos. Contracts should not be majority stock image and two sentences long. You should discuss payment up front, and usually find a way to either get half before the job is started, or at least work with a site that handles escrow (which involves the client putting your payment in a secure holding area so that you know you’ll be paid). No work should be given without your pay in sight. It’s fine that a client wants to look over a rough draft or send a final copy back for edits, but you should always be paid for your time and effort.
Oh, and don’t let unprofessional douchebags push you around. Ever.
I, like many, am a terrible blogger. Seriously. I’m lazy, not super creative, and reaaaally slack about replying to comments or just being interactive in general. So, starting this December, I’m going to be trying to follow a blog schedule based on these amazing prompts to help my kickstart this blog off the right way. I’ve tried for years, years, to make a blog work, and it always fizzles out.
Not this time, buckos.
This time it’s going to happen.
I’m going to blog.
* please nobody link this post to me if I fail miserably kthnxbye
Liz Meldon - Romance Author 