Enter to win and eBook copy of Sweet Bytes!
***
Third Time’s a Charm
By Kimber An
I suppose this is most interesting to all you aspiring authors out there, but the rest of you might get a kick out of it too. It’s a glimpse into the writer’s journey.
The first time around, publication is like an endless trudge through an evil, dreaded purgatory. I like to call it Queryland. You write a novel, rewrite a novel, and rewrite it a bazillion times. Then, you put your big-girl panties on and submit it to a critique group. Some of the readers are really mean! Most are helpful though, because they’re nice folks who need your help too. My favorite online place is www.critiquecircle.com So, they help you polish that sucker up as pretty as you can.
You go surfing through all the agents’ and editors’ blogs. You do searches on ‘query’ and learn how to write a query letter and a synopsis, and it hurts really bad too! Finally, one day, you wrap up your babies and push ‘send.’
And then the Rejection Letters start rolling in.
You learn all about the soothing virtues of Dark Chocolate and you keep going, learning, rewriting, critiquing, so forth and so on. You might even start a book review blog so you can read books in your genre and mix with authors to learn the ropes of the publishing industry.
You write another novel. By this time, you may be seeking help from published authors! You find out a lot of them don’t feel qualified (that would be the newly published) and almost all of them are too insanely busy writing, editing, and promoting. But, some of them have extremely helpful resources on their websites and blogs. You devour those!
Still more would-be helpers just don’t want to see you cry.
‘Cause it’s gonna hurt. Growing up always does, you know.
Finally, you snag a mentor. In my case, that was Jacqueline Lichtenberg. http://www.simegen.com/jl/ I frequented her group blog, Alien Romances, http://aliendjinnromances.blogspot.com and she took the time to point the way. I’m telling you it’s like being struck by lightning, but in a good way. Still, finding a mentor is nowhere near the end. In fact, it never ends really. As a blogging book reviewer, I learned that all the best authors never stopped learning and trying to improve their craft.
Anyway, you keep writing novel after novel, learning, growing, and submitting those gosh-darn query letters. If you’re very lucky, you receive a response of some kind. Often, you never know if those letters ended up lining a kitty litter box somewhere or got sucked down a black hole in cyberspace, never to be read by anyone. You keep going, because storytellers just can’t help themselves. You’ve gotta share your stories with the world somehow!
Pretty soon, you start getting requests for sample chapters. Most of the time, you’ll get polite form rejection letters for those. Sometimes you only hear crickets in your inbox. Once in a blue moon, you might get a note like ‘not enough romance’ or something. By this point, you consider that a huge compliment! A real publishing professional took a moment to make a real comment on your story!
And then one day you get an email (or a call) full of very weird and unusual words, the most bizarre ones being “We would like to offer you a contract for…” If you haven’t cried yet, that’s when you finally break down and it’s not just because you have a wicked case of Tendonitis from all that writing.
After you recover, sign and all that, you leap for joy over your first book cover.
And then the edits start and you wonder if you’re brain’s been wired wrong because your editor often uses words that are the same as yours, but seem to mean something different. You go crying (metaphorically, I hope) to your mentor, wanting to know what the heck this all means. Uh, interpretation please?
Finally, you get through that and your book is released and you’re on the promo trail. People you’re not biologically related to or married to actually spend real money to buy your book!
And then you crank out and edit the second and that’s really cool and you find it’s a little bit easier and even more people read your books and like them. ‘Course, some people hate them, but you’ve been through so much you know everyone’s got their own point of view and you’re okay with that.
Then, the third time rolls around. You know there are no promises. No matter how hard you’ve worked or how professionally you’ve behaved, you still might not get another contract. But, you’ve made good friends and mentors. You’ve pretty much learned the language of the editing process. You discover that having two published books does garner some respect. People know you’ve been through hell and you can take it.
Wow! I put out three books in one year! How cool is that?
Yep, the third time’s a charm.
--
Kimber An’s third book, Sweet Bytes, was released by Noble YA on October 17th. Here’s the blurb-
Ophelia’s escape from Martin, an Addicted Newblood, came at a terrible sacrifice. Adrian, the boy she loves, is now infected and hunted like vermin.
As her new Protector, Tristan Li represents the Oldblood determination to destroy Adrian, along with all the Newbloods, addicted or not.
In her grief, Ophelia hates everything about Tristan, until his subtle strength empowers her to resist being turned into a vampire by the High Prefect.
As Tristan helps Ophelia harness her empathic ability, his need for redemption rings in her heart. Her own strength grows, along with her passion for freedom.
The veil of mourning lifts.
The evil of Martin returns.
Ophelia seizes ownership of her destiny.
--
To learn more about Kimber An and her books, pop over to her main site- www.kimberan.com and don’t forget to comment under this post to win a free ebook copy of Sweet Bytes.
ENTER THE CONTEST
Just comment on the post below and leave the first bit of your email address. You do need to be a NOR Newsletter / Fan Club subscriber to enter. Ends - 11/11/2011
Jeff Bennington - The Ghost Named Earl + Contest
Enter to win two eBooks from Jeff Bennington. An eBook copy of Reunion and an eBook copy of Creepy. Three winners will each get both eBooks!
***
The Ghost Named Earl by Jeff Bennington
In the fall of 2010, my wife and I went on a weekend getaway with some friends of ours. We rented a really cool cabin in Nashville, Indiana, equipped with hot tub, gas grill and pool table. Nestled on a cozy hillside, the place had a beautiful wraparound porch and an exquisite view of the southern Indiana countryside. The sun shone through the trees and the air felt crisp and cool.
I was in heaven.
We unpacked, started the gas logs and settled into our perfect retreat. We had a fun evening of shopping, cards and watching horror flicks planned. After we settled in, we decided to head into town to walk through the many shops and galleries. The storefronts were lined with pumpkins and hay bales, tempting us with hot deals and hot apple cider. The evening went as planned and we returned to our cabin, ready to warm our bones and watch House on Haunted Hill.
Before I knew it, the other three started getting sleepy and we decided to hit the sack.
•••
A couple of hours later, around two the morning, I woke up, dripping with sweat. The upper loft had very little airflow. I felt so hot I couldn’t stand it. My wife was sleeping like a baby, but I had to get out of there.
I lumbered down the steps and listened to the creaks and cracks in the rafters caused by the whistling wind. Believe it or not, I enjoyed the sounds coming from the rustic structure. I peered at the leather couch; it looked so cool and inviting. For a moment I imagined sprawling out ointo its cushiony spread, but I heard a strange noise coming from the kitchen and my skin felt like it melted off my face.
I looked around and didn’t see anything unusual. The open floor plan left nothing to hide. The stairs opened to the living room, dining room and kitchen. Our friends’ bedroom and bath were the only other rooms on the first floor, and they, too, were within eyeshot. After giving the cabin a final inspection from where I stood, I lay down on the couch, snuggled into my bedsheet and closed my eyes.
The noises continued.
I listened carefully, trying to make sense of it all. The squeaks and groans seemed to be coming from every direction. No big deal, I thought. It’s just a cabin. Get over it and fall asleep.
Then, something curious happened. The creaking floorboards began to move closer to me. One at a time I’d hear what sounded like footsteps rolling across the wood floor, carefully pressing down, trying not to be heard. My heart, as you can imagine, hammered in my chest, nearly bursting through my rib cage. I looked at the reflection in the TV screen to see if there was anyone walking behind me, but I didn’t see anything. Then when this thing, whatever it was, pressed on the floor right next to the couch, I couldn’t take it. I sat up, turned my head toward the open space and heard a voice forcefully whisper, “Hello!”
This wasn’t a quiet, “don’t let them hear you” whisper. Oh, no! This was an “I’m not presently living in your dimension, so I’m screaming at you” type whisper.
I panicked, jumping straight up like the scaredy-cat that I was, nearly falling off the couch.
As I turned I saw a dark silhouette, adding to my terrifying experience. Seconds later, I realized that the shape beside me was only a floor lamp, but that didn’t make me feel any better. My heart continued pounding like a jackhammer.
•••
For no less than thirty minutes, I felt an electric energy buzzing through my body. I felt as if something hovered over me, almost nose to nose, staring at me. I peered through the corner of my eye but couldn’t see anything—nothing physical, anyway. But I knew in the deepest part of my soul that something was there. I lay frozen in place, like an icy Neanderthal in the Tibetan ice caps.
My eyes searched for movement but found nothing. I did see, however, a shadowy figure moving from side to side in the reflection from the microwave door. It was the strangest thing. There were no ceiling fans spinning or curtains waving. Everything stood still—everything except the dancing shadow. At that point, I couldn’t take it anymore. I ran back up the stairs to my personal boiler room and slid under the covers with my wife.
Still, the energy followed me.
After several minutes of fighting my fears, I finally fell asleep.
•••
The next morning, I woke to the smell of biscuits and gravy and the sound of coffee percolating in the kitchen. My wife and friends, like myself, were shuffling their feet like the undead, trying their best to navigate with squinted, puffy eyes. We eventually sat down to eat.
In a moment of silence, Sarah, my friend’s wife, asked if anyone heard anything during the night. I looked at her curiously and asked why. She said, “Because someone was tugging at our doorknob off and on for about an hour sometime around three in the morning.” She thought we had mistaken her room for the bathroom, but she had been too tired to get out of bed. She also said that at one point in the night she felt like someone was standing beside her, but she was too scared to look.
After she told her story, I shared my experience. I affirmed that I never left the living room until I ran upstairs and that I never walked toward their bedroom.
We all let our suspicions cool for a while. But then my buddy opened up the guest logbook, the kind where each visitor can leave a message to the cabin’s owners about their experience. And wouldn’t you know it, the book was filled with story after story about a spirit that inhabited the structure.
They called him Earl.
Some of the visitors claimed he was a gentle ghost, mostly curious, and only somewhat troublesome. Others rebuked the owners for not disclosing the fact that malevolent spirits haunted the cabin. Me? I don’t know what that thing was, but it scared the hell out of me. The upside to coming face-to-face with Earl is, when I write supernatural thrillers, I can honestly communicate what it feels like to be petrified by something that you can’t explain. I know what it sounds like when a spirit is moving. I know that electrifying sensation when a ghost is standing beside me. I know that there are things out there—things we can’t see. But I also know that, where there is darkness, there is also light, and that is all I need to know to keep my sanity. – The End
By Jeff Bennington, author of CREEPY and REUNION
Reunion Link: http://www.amazon.com/Reunion-ebook/dp/B004S7AR0E
Creepy Link: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005SHXW8C
ENTER THE CONTEST
Just comment on the post below and leave the first bit of your email address. You do need to be a NOR Newsletter / Fan Club subscriber to enter. USA Ends - 10/28/2011
***
The Ghost Named Earl by Jeff Bennington
In the fall of 2010, my wife and I went on a weekend getaway with some friends of ours. We rented a really cool cabin in Nashville, Indiana, equipped with hot tub, gas grill and pool table. Nestled on a cozy hillside, the place had a beautiful wraparound porch and an exquisite view of the southern Indiana countryside. The sun shone through the trees and the air felt crisp and cool.
I was in heaven.
We unpacked, started the gas logs and settled into our perfect retreat. We had a fun evening of shopping, cards and watching horror flicks planned. After we settled in, we decided to head into town to walk through the many shops and galleries. The storefronts were lined with pumpkins and hay bales, tempting us with hot deals and hot apple cider. The evening went as planned and we returned to our cabin, ready to warm our bones and watch House on Haunted Hill.
Before I knew it, the other three started getting sleepy and we decided to hit the sack.
•••
A couple of hours later, around two the morning, I woke up, dripping with sweat. The upper loft had very little airflow. I felt so hot I couldn’t stand it. My wife was sleeping like a baby, but I had to get out of there.
I lumbered down the steps and listened to the creaks and cracks in the rafters caused by the whistling wind. Believe it or not, I enjoyed the sounds coming from the rustic structure. I peered at the leather couch; it looked so cool and inviting. For a moment I imagined sprawling out ointo its cushiony spread, but I heard a strange noise coming from the kitchen and my skin felt like it melted off my face.
I looked around and didn’t see anything unusual. The open floor plan left nothing to hide. The stairs opened to the living room, dining room and kitchen. Our friends’ bedroom and bath were the only other rooms on the first floor, and they, too, were within eyeshot. After giving the cabin a final inspection from where I stood, I lay down on the couch, snuggled into my bedsheet and closed my eyes.
The noises continued.
I listened carefully, trying to make sense of it all. The squeaks and groans seemed to be coming from every direction. No big deal, I thought. It’s just a cabin. Get over it and fall asleep.
Then, something curious happened. The creaking floorboards began to move closer to me. One at a time I’d hear what sounded like footsteps rolling across the wood floor, carefully pressing down, trying not to be heard. My heart, as you can imagine, hammered in my chest, nearly bursting through my rib cage. I looked at the reflection in the TV screen to see if there was anyone walking behind me, but I didn’t see anything. Then when this thing, whatever it was, pressed on the floor right next to the couch, I couldn’t take it. I sat up, turned my head toward the open space and heard a voice forcefully whisper, “Hello!”
This wasn’t a quiet, “don’t let them hear you” whisper. Oh, no! This was an “I’m not presently living in your dimension, so I’m screaming at you” type whisper.
I panicked, jumping straight up like the scaredy-cat that I was, nearly falling off the couch.
As I turned I saw a dark silhouette, adding to my terrifying experience. Seconds later, I realized that the shape beside me was only a floor lamp, but that didn’t make me feel any better. My heart continued pounding like a jackhammer.
•••
For no less than thirty minutes, I felt an electric energy buzzing through my body. I felt as if something hovered over me, almost nose to nose, staring at me. I peered through the corner of my eye but couldn’t see anything—nothing physical, anyway. But I knew in the deepest part of my soul that something was there. I lay frozen in place, like an icy Neanderthal in the Tibetan ice caps.
My eyes searched for movement but found nothing. I did see, however, a shadowy figure moving from side to side in the reflection from the microwave door. It was the strangest thing. There were no ceiling fans spinning or curtains waving. Everything stood still—everything except the dancing shadow. At that point, I couldn’t take it anymore. I ran back up the stairs to my personal boiler room and slid under the covers with my wife.
Still, the energy followed me.
After several minutes of fighting my fears, I finally fell asleep.
•••
The next morning, I woke to the smell of biscuits and gravy and the sound of coffee percolating in the kitchen. My wife and friends, like myself, were shuffling their feet like the undead, trying their best to navigate with squinted, puffy eyes. We eventually sat down to eat.
In a moment of silence, Sarah, my friend’s wife, asked if anyone heard anything during the night. I looked at her curiously and asked why. She said, “Because someone was tugging at our doorknob off and on for about an hour sometime around three in the morning.” She thought we had mistaken her room for the bathroom, but she had been too tired to get out of bed. She also said that at one point in the night she felt like someone was standing beside her, but she was too scared to look.
After she told her story, I shared my experience. I affirmed that I never left the living room until I ran upstairs and that I never walked toward their bedroom.
We all let our suspicions cool for a while. But then my buddy opened up the guest logbook, the kind where each visitor can leave a message to the cabin’s owners about their experience. And wouldn’t you know it, the book was filled with story after story about a spirit that inhabited the structure.
They called him Earl.
Some of the visitors claimed he was a gentle ghost, mostly curious, and only somewhat troublesome. Others rebuked the owners for not disclosing the fact that malevolent spirits haunted the cabin. Me? I don’t know what that thing was, but it scared the hell out of me. The upside to coming face-to-face with Earl is, when I write supernatural thrillers, I can honestly communicate what it feels like to be petrified by something that you can’t explain. I know what it sounds like when a spirit is moving. I know that electrifying sensation when a ghost is standing beside me. I know that there are things out there—things we can’t see. But I also know that, where there is darkness, there is also light, and that is all I need to know to keep my sanity. – The End
By Jeff Bennington, author of CREEPY and REUNION
Reunion Link: http://www.amazon.com/Reunion-ebook/dp/B004S7AR0E
Creepy Link: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005SHXW8C
ENTER THE CONTEST
Just comment on the post below and leave the first bit of your email address. You do need to be a NOR Newsletter / Fan Club subscriber to enter. USA Ends - 10/28/2011
Greg Messel - Fear and Uncertainty In 21st Century + Contest
Enter to win a paperback copy of The Illusion of Certainty!***
Fear and Uncertainty In 21st Century
By Greg Messel
The atmosphere which emerged in the first decade of the 21st century seemed to be laced with fear and uncertainty. In casual conversations each day with friends or co-workers it is easy to see that just below the seemingly calm demeanor of everyday life, if deep seated fear.
A friend recently confided in me that she was concerned about the future. Her future, her children's future, her husband's future. It can be a challenge to not be live in fear. We must proceed in our lives in a positive manner and be ready to meet whatever trials may come.
These themes are woven throughout my new novel "The Illusion of Certainty." The main character Marc has his world rocked by the latest Black Monday, when the economy plunged into a deep recession on September 15th, 2008. That was a day that most Americans’ illusions of certainty came shattering down around them. Marc, and his team watch the news breaking of the economic crisis, as it is reported that Lehman Brother collapsed and lost close to $7 billion and that the stock market had lost more than 500 points.
As the characters in "The Illusion of Certainty" watched the cable news coverage in the airport Marc comments, “We had a limitless future, just two weeks ago. There was more business than we could handle. Now, everything is in peril. There is no security anywhere."
A companion theme to dealing with fear is to value time as a precious commodity.
Another main character, Alex, who suffered a tragic loss in her life, is told at a seminar, "we never know how much time we have left so every day is precious." Our 21st Century technology gives us the impression that we control time and carefully track it. The automation of the Information Age was supposed to give us more leisure time. However, it has actually given us more time to work. The work day has continually been getting longer over the last decade.
Marc's family is blown apart and his relationship with his children becomes exchanging text messages and e mails.. He attempts to stay really a busy in his automated life. If he's busy he may not remember how unhappy he has become.
An emerging theme in my new novel is that ultimately not all "surprises" are bad. Life can also bring unexpected pleasures. We should not spend our precious time living in fear but taking charge of our life and our fate.
The Illusion of Certainty follows two parallel storylines. Marc is a successful businessman who seems to have everything—a great job, a beautiful wife, a house in an upscale neighborhood of Portland, Oregon and two great kids who are preparing for college. But something is not right. Marc is unsettled by the sudden change in his wife, Aimee, who seems distant and unhappy. What’s going on with her?
The second storyline involves a successful young attorney, Alexandra Mattson. Alex, as she is called by her friends, meets a handsome young cop, Sean, during an unexpected crisis in her neighborhood. Sean and Alex seem made for each other and begin to merge their futures in a world of uncertainty.
The only certainty in life is that we will face uncertainty. Despite all fo the technology and controls available in the modern world, sometimes the only comfort comes from the human touch.
Greg Messel
http://expiationbook.wordpress.com
ENTER THE CONTEST
Just comment on the post below and leave the first bit of your email address. You do need to be a NOR Newsletter / Fan Club subscriber to enter. USA Postage Only on shipped items. Ends - 10/28/2011
Nancy Holzner - Building an Urban Fantasy World + Contest
Enter to win a Print copy of BloodStone!***
Building an Urban Fantasy World
by Nancy Holzner
Urban fantasy is fun and scary and compelling because it feels like the story could really happen. On a dark night, when you're out walking the city streets, if you happened to turn down the wrong alley . . . who knows what might be lurking in the shadows?
When you're building a world for an urban fantasy novel, the first thing you need is a setting that feels real. You want to create the sense that a reader could set down the book, walk out the door, and inhabit your world: Breathe the smoky air, feel the gritty pavement under their feet. For that reason, many urban fantasy authors choose a real city as their setting. For my Deadtown series, it's Boston. I want my readers to be able to walk down a Boston street and picture my story unfolding there. I want people who've been to Boston to think, “Yes! I know that place!” I went to college in Boston and lived there for several years, so I know the city pretty well. I also use Google Maps street view to research specific locations in the city.
Every city has a personality. To make an urban fantasy seem real, the author needs to capture that city's personality. It's more than just the neighborhoods, buildings, and street layouts—it's what the people are like, how it feels to live there. If you haven't lived in the city where your urban fantasy is set, watch movies or read books that showcase the city. If your sense of the city's personality doesn't mesh with the perceptions of people who've lived in or visited the place, your story won't be convincing.
Some urban fantasies, such as Kelly Meding's Dreg City series, are set in imaginary locales. If the city doesn't actually exist, it still needs to feel as though it does. Imaginary cities need the same kind of personality—or vibe—that real-world cities have. If you want to make up a city, you've got lots of work to do: You might want to map it out, labeling its streets, districts, and neighborhoods. How do people get around? What's their housing like? Where do they shop? What's the climate like? How is the city governed? What does it pride itself on? Those questions will get you started in making your setting a three-dimensional place.
Here's a tip: Whether you're using a real city or creating a fictional one, use traveler guidebooks, such as Fodors or Lonely Planet. Guidebooks try to give visitors a sense of what a city feels like. If you're writing about an actual city, you can use the guide to understand the city's personality. If you're making up a city, a guidebook offers a checklist of the details that will help you make your city real.
Although setting can be almost a character in its own right, what brings a city to life is its people. Urban fantasy needs a mix of ordinary people and supernatural elements. The supernatural could be represented by paranormal creatures, such as vampires, werewolves, demons, and other creatures, or by real, active magic. The supernatural part of your world is limited only by your imagination.
Even while they're fighting monsters or finding love that's truly eternal with sexy vampires, urban fantasy characters need to wrestle with recognizable problems. Paying the rent,cooking dinner, dealing with an overbearing boss, figuring out what to wear on a date—such issues make urban fantasy characters real and recognizable to readers. No matter how awe-inspiring the character's powers or how world-shattering her central problem, she still should be someone readers would like to have lunch with. If readers wouldn't want to have lunch with your character, why would they want to spend a whole book with her?
Many urban fantasy authors, including me, look to the past for a mythology that will structure the supernatural elements of their world. For example, my Deadtown series has stories and legends from Welsh mythology as its background. Vicky Vaughn, the protagonist, is a shapeshifter descended from Ceridwen, a Welsh witch/goddess who could change her shape at will. I used the story of Ceridwen from the Mabinogion, a collection of ancient stories and tales written down in the Middle Ages, to help me create the rules for Vicky's shapeshifting ability. Other characters and plotlines in the books have been influenced by the Mabiongion, as well.
The cool thing about mythology is that it's both familiar and flexible. Fantastical characters seem more “real” if they're based on a mythology that already exists. Yet, by its very nature, mythology lends itself to many tellings and retellings, so you can tweak old legends to suit the needs of your present story. Basing the supernatural element on existing mythology helps make the supernatural believable.
It may seem ironic that creating a fantasy world is all about verisimilitude. But realistic, recognizable details invite readers into your world and make it seem real. Without them, readers get lost in your world. For urban fantasy, the main ingredients are a realistic city, relatable characters with recognizable problems, and a believable supernatural element. Get those in the right mix, and readers will follow your characters down dark streets and into battles.
Nancy Holzner
http://nancyholzner.wordpress.com
________________
Bloodstone, the third novel in Nancy Holzner's Deadtown series, is now available. For information on Nancy and her books, visit her website. You can also find Nancy on Facebook and Twitter, and blogging with other fantasy authors at Dark Central Station.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Nancy Holzner grew up in western Massachusetts with her nose stuck in a book. This meant that she tended to walk into things, wore glasses before she was out of elementary school, and forced her parents to institute a “no reading at the dinner table” rule. It was probably inevitable that she majored in English in college and then, because there were still a lot of books she wanted to read, continued her studies long enough to earn a masters degree and a PhD.
She began her career as a medievalist, then jumped off the tenure track to try some other things. Besides teaching English and philosophy, she’s worked as a technical writer, freelance editor and instructional designer, college admissions counselor, and corporate trainer. Most of her nonfiction books are published under the name Nancy Conner.
Nancy lives in upstate New York with her husband Steve, where they both work from home without getting on each other’s nerves. She enjoys visiting local wineries and listening obsessively to opera. There are still a lot of books she wants to read.
ENTER THE CONTEST
Just comment on the post below and leave the first bit of your email address. You do need to be a NOR Newsletter / Fan Club subscriber to enter. USA Postage Only on shipped items. Ends - 10/14/2011
Musa Publishing Opens its Electronic Doors + Contest
Enter to win a book from the Night Owl Reviews prize shelf.***
Ebooks,Penumbra eMag, and so much More - Musa Publishing Opens its Electronic Doors
After months of editing, designing, contracting, and formatting Musa Publishing launches on October 1, 2011. The E-publisher opens with a large catalogue including Penumbra Speculative Fiction eMag, new works by three bestselling authors, and the full backlist of Aurora Regency, featuring traditional Regency romances and historical fiction.
Penumbra eMag Penumbra's inaugural issue is a collection of speculative fiction stories that encompass the arts--the arts we love and revere. Some of these stories deal with the arts we're familiar with. Some create arts we haven't thought of and some resurrect arts buried in the depths of the past. And yet, all of these offerings celebrate the creative process, which makes them a fitting theme to launch Penumbra--an enterprise that will showcase the creative work of speculative fiction authors each month with a new collection of works within the genre.
New Works by
Gini Koch - The Martian Alliance 1: The Royal Scam
Things aren’t what they seem to be when Princess Olivia of Andromeda jumps aboard a spaceship to escape a loveless marriage.
Join the crew of the Hummingbird as they take on the rich, famous and sleazy of the galaxy. They're also on a long-term secret mission, so it's a good thing they're the best con artists, spacers, and roughnecks in the Milky Way, because they need all their skills to pull off this particular Royal Scam.Cindi Myers - West with the Wind
More than gold awaits two lovers at the end of the trail.
Mariah Tate and her dog, Worthy, persuade veteran guide Campbell Jefferson to let them join his expedition headed to California. Camp can't say no to the beautiful widow, but his need to protect her soon clashes with her need to keep secrets. Mariah left more than bad memories behind in Pennsylvania and her growing attraction to the stoic but surprisingly sensitive Camp forces her to face up to the consequences of the choices she's made. Camp doesn't know what Mariah's hiding, but he's determined not to let the only woman who ever made him want to settle down get away. He pursues her across the prairies, through stampedes, Indian raids, desert drought and mountain snows. In the gold camps of California, Camp will discover Mariah's secret, and prove the love she wants most isn't out of reach.

And the return to writing after five years for USA Today Bestselling Author
Sharon De Vita - The Estrogen Posse
"The Estrogen Posse is a hoot! I laughed, I cried, I couldn't put it down! For every woman who needs a pick me up, this is the book for you!"
Janet Evanovich, NYT bestselling author of the Stephanie Plum mystery series
Once upon a time Ellie Briotti had a quiet life as a suburban housewife.
Until…she confronts her wealthy husband Nicky about doing the pecker polka with another woman, and Nicky tosses Ellie out of his life like some misbehaved household pet.
Until…Gram Crackers, her dotty mother begins passing out house keys to homeless bums.
Until…Joey, her eleven-year old son starts on a new career path: breaking and entering.

Until…Rina, her best friend, a single, successful, entrepreneur learns she's about to become a mother.
Until…Candi, Nicky's 22-year-old mistress turns up murdered with traces of furniture polish on her bare backside!
A rip-roaring ribald mystery about a woman’s journey to discover what she really wants in life. Now, if Ellie can keep her son from becoming a second-story man, while trying to hide everything from the gorgeous cop who’s started sniffing around, Ellie might be able to get a new life.
That is—if she doesn’t go to jail for murder first!
Aurora Regency
Musa has acquired Aurora Regency and Aurora Regency Historicals. Within the next month over forty books in this line will be available to Regency and Historical Romance buffs to enjoy.
Stop by www.MusaPublishing.com check out the books already for sale as well as those coming soon. Over the next few weeks, Musa will offer literature geared for every reader's tastes. Musa aims to offer well writing, interesting stories, all at a price that doesn’t bite into your check book.
“Hearts set upon song, spirits free from care”~ Hesiod
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