Friday, January 9, 2015
Wednesday, January 7, 2015
This year I'm thinking about setting myself a more structured schedule. I seem to be busy every hour of the day but only am productive when under a deadline. With a schedule, I believe that will be the incentive I need--a constant deadline.
Writers, don't you wonder how to get your books noticed? The first rule of writing is write the next book--make it better than the last. (As if I'm trying to write a bad book--rolls eyes).
The next thing I hear is have a social media presence...but NOT too much. Get on FB, tweet on Twitter, interact on Linkedin, now there's Google+ and tsu, and more (whatever...).
I want to write the next book and I want to make it better than anything I've ever written. Perhaps that's putting too much pressure on myself, but I can't seem to stop myself from evaluating each new idea and wondering if I can live up to the concept.
I read a blog recently that had the marketing pie cut up to help the writer organize time. I believe the largest percentage should be devoted to actually writing. But the blog Brooke Warner wrote, broke down YOUR AUTHOR PLATFORM in a very realistic way. I suggest you read her opinion and see if it makes more sense about how you can survive in the competitive writing field. I hope it helps because between self publishing and e-publishing, social networking is bedlam with all the vast numbers of books to contend with. I don't mind hard work, but I want an even playing field, and since there isn't one at present, it's time to even it out. If you have suggestions, please, I welcome them.
I'll check back in with you when I have a more concrete plan.
Eliza March is multi-published with three publishers and writes everything from sexy to erotic romance--contemporary to paranormal genres.
Friday, January 2, 2015
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20% OFF CONQUER THE HIGHLAND BEAST by Eliza March
Promotional price: $2.63
Expires: January 16, 2015
Paranormal, Vampire, Demons, Highlander, Berserker, erotic, romance
Dylan meets his life-mate, FBI profiler Special Agent Caitlin Donovan. But is it three hundred years too late?
After he'd lost his life and nearly his soul, Highland warrior, Dylan Macgregor learns revenge and retribution will not give him the peace he seeks. Every day since, he battles the darkness after being turned on a battlefield by an ancient born vampire,
Now that he's found the one woman who can save him, he discovers she’s been targeted for death by a demon overlord. Can he find the assassins before they find her? The last of his light is at risk if he kills again, but then what will become of their love?
An Unusual Brothel Experience
The sneer formed on Dylan’s face as a chill rolled up his spine, followed by an unfamiliar scent. He turned, sniffed, and inhaled deeply. The well-kept exotic looking madam from the upscale brothel upstairs stared at him as she approached, appraising him. Apparently, his looks and size made him appealing enough for her to disregard his dusty clothes and his own rank smell. His family ring spoke for his status, and well-made leathers and boots attested to his ability to pay.
“Ah, lovely man. I am Amyra.”
He blocked his mind from the thoughts trying to sneak through his defenses. For years, he’d fought his abilities, just as his mother had warned, but this raven haired, black-eyed beauty managed to circumvent his barriers. Her fragrance intoxicated him as nothing ever had—vanilla, cinnamon, and another spice of some sort.
At first, even without his gift, he understood her unspoken invitation. By the way she assessed him, it should have been obvious to any man what she had in mind. However, an internal warning signal sent a cold chill up his spine. This woman wanted something from him, something other than a quick toss in the quilts.
He had a good reason to question her motives. If sex was all she wanted, Dylan wondered why she wasn’t with the tall, well-dressed man standing by her side. What did this Amyra desire of him when she had this man to attend her?
Brother. Ah. That would explain her need.
The man’s hands attentively swept down her arms as his body leaned into hers. Long aristocratic fingers meant to play an instrument or paint, caressed her silken skin.
An image flashed through his mind of the woman lying beneath another man while he drove her to distraction with his hands and mouth. The scene made Dylan hard and uncomfortable. Angry. They were teasing him, but he didn’t know how or why.
He narrowed his eyes, inspecting the man from head to toe, studying him more closely while his gaze searched the bleak bar. Dylan decided the madam’s companion was almost too attractive to be a mere mortal. There had to be more to him and the ravishing brothel mistress. In fact, they were both possibly, the best-looking people he’d ever seen.
The man’s gaze finally settled on Dylan’s face. With an all-knowing smile, he let his eyes drift over Dylan’s shoulders and chest, down to his narrow hips where he paused.
Dylan’s arousal pushed at his leathers. The man shifted his eyes back up to Dylan’s face, questioningly. Bile rose in his throat as old suspicions surfaced. He started to sneer at the woman’s companion until they made eye contact, and then something between them shifted.
Dylan couldn’t mistake the connection between them, like kinship. The stranger appeared not much older than he was...physically. Like Dylan, the man’s cold eyes reflected age and knowledge beyond his years. Perhaps it was just his confident manner that suggested he was ageless.
Dylan understood how bravado worked, but this was different. The man’s expression said he’d seen too much, done too many wrongs during his time on this earth, and what surprised Dylan most was that in his eyes was a need for redemption.
Amyra’s brother…his name was Nicolaus.
“No. I am Niccolai Xenos. Come away to our rooms. You do not seek one of these whores. This place is not right for you.”
Although Dylan kept his mind guarded, their abilities were powerful enough to pass through his barriers. He didn’t understand why his blocks weren’t working or, since neither the man nor the woman had spoken a single word, how he understood they intended him no harm.
Amyra took Dylan’s hand. “Come with me, beautiful one, and I will help you find the peace you seek, tonight.”
Niccolai draped an arm over his shoulder—a comrade, safe and unthreatening. “You need what we offer, and we seek what only you can provide.”