UPDATE: The winner is…ButtonsMom2003!
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Being a writer—no, being a successful writer—isn’t only about getting words on pages. I wish it worked that way, but in the real world, or at least for the independently published authors…

1. We write a book
2. We scrounge for cover art to hand to the cover artist
3. We look for decent editors (or in my case since I am an editor, good beta readers to find my errors)
4. We pay or learn to format our books ourselves
5. We upload the books on all the platforms where people buy books
6. And then…we try to figure out how to get people to notice our book amid the millions of books available on all those platforms.

And that’s where you can really fall down that rabbit hole and waste an inordinate amount of time while you try to figure out what works.

I have a website. That’s a must for authors—the first order of business for any author.

I have a blog. Now, authors say blogs are dead, but I think mine does okay. See the number of folks on the left who get this daily post mailed straight to their inbox? I choose to continue this blog because it serves as my “face” to the real world out there. I talk about what’s real in my life. I talk about my books. I invite other authors to come to talk about their lives and their books. It’s a friendly place. But as an author, I have to do so much more.

Facebook, Instagram, Twitter… Gah. How can I be in all places at all times? Simply put, I can’t. And I do not want to pay someone to manage my social media, even though I’ve seen some authors who have the right support do very, very well. You see, I tried it, but it was work managing that support and I don’t really want anything more on my plate. I’ll do the occasional Facebook and Amazon ad and call it done.

And then my dd offered to do something for me.

She noticed all those lovely, luscious book memes on Instagram and Facebook and wondered why I wasn’t doing them. I told her flat out I didn’t have the time or the talent. Since she’s got online school to supervise every day and has to sit in the livingroom or dining room with the kids anyway, and it doesn’t take up every second of her time, she said she’d give it a shot. It looked like fun to her. Fun?! Of course, I worried about what those ads might look like because her taste and mine are not the same, and she doesn’t read romance, doesn’t get the genre at all.

But hey. She wanted to help.

So, for a little over a month now, I give her a cover and maybe a snippet about the book or a piece of an Amazon customer’s review and off she goes.

I told her donuts and the color pink feature in my latest release, Preacher…

And I thought, That’s alright. At least people will stop and look.

And then she saw my cover for my next release, Hardman, and asked whether I had more art with this guy because she said he was hot! This one’s simple. Stark. Sexy. I like it!

And she’s only gotten better. I wanted her to go back and do memes for books I already have out there but folks might have forgotten exist or had no idea they existed…

I had this Texas Cowboy story about a wild-child judge’s daughter who gets caught going Lady Godiva on a motorcycle by a pair of Dom deputies… She found this art!

The story that followed was about a schoolteacher voyeur spying on a deputy’s playroom. This one’s just too cute!

When she put all the Texas Cowboys together, she did this and I snorted with laughter.

My favorites so far? I love, love the biker girl and voyeur girl, but I love this one too!

And has it helped? I really think so. When I look at my sales on Amazon, there are more of my older titles selling, so I’m going to keep her employed for the longterm doing my memes. She’s becoming a goddess (and a godsend—just one more thing I don’t have to worry about)!

What do you think? And which is your favorite image from the ones I provided. Comment for a chance to win a backlisted title of your choice!

UPDATE: The winner is…Brenda Rumsey!
*~*~*

“All of us have moments in our lives that test our courage. Taking children into a house with a white carpet is one of them.”
~ Erma Bombek

I love that quote. Isn’t it soooo true? When my sister lived in Texas, she had a property in the country—and a white-as-hell carpet. You know where my kid spilled the grape juice, right?

I’m thinking about kids because school is back in full swing after Snowmageddon. Online, for our house. But there are Zoom meeting alarms set, homework to supervise. We’ll be busy.

The snow is melting. Yesterday, we had huge slabs of ice slide off the roof. It was dicey getting out the doors. There’s snow in patches, and “The Great Mudding” has begun. Towels are on the floor in front of every entrance for folks to clean off their shoes before coming inside.

I’m busy working on two sets of edits, plus charging back into my Work-in-Progress, Hardman—along with 20 items on my daily To Do list. Gah.

So, to the contest…

Tell me about your family’s “tests of courage” for a chance to win a download of your choice from my backlist of books! 

UPDATE: The winner is…Shiduna Townsend!
*~*~*

Puzzle-Contest

Tell me a story. Just a short one will do. Doesn’t have to be good or long. Funny is always appreciated, too. Comment for a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card!

UPDATE: The winner is…AnnaMarie!
*~*~*

I’m writing this as my dd and the 16-year-old are cleaning my rooms. I guess yesterday’s whine was read. 🙂

Which is very freeing for me. You know, being surrounded by “accidental” clutter is very exhausting. I’m not sure why. I love my “deliberate” clutter—my Russian lacquer boxes, my super-hero Funko-Pop figures, my fortune-telling teacups, my antique vanity table powder jars, etc. That clutter gives me pleasure. The clutter of water cups, unread magazines, the 7-year-old’s toys (because she spends an excessive amount of time down here with me (love her!)), clothes that need to be put into drawers—all that makes me uneasy and restless—and in normal times would inspire me to straighten…on occasion…but these aren’t normal times. My ass hurts. Bending gives me terrible twinges. And you know I’m going to be using this excuse (an excuse even it’s real pain) for as long as I can.

By the end of today, the only thing I’ll need to handle myself is my very cluttery desk. I should take a picture of my desktop, but you’d forever have that image in your mind, so just…no. Suffice it to say that I have unopened mail, toys that need fixing (again, for the precious 7-year-old who thinks I can save anything), art supplies that need to find a home, notebooks, and printed short stories (that I STILL need to read)…amid my “acceptable” clutter of perfume bottles (because a whiff of something wonderful wakes me up and clarifies my thinking), hand creams (because stiff fingers need massaging), colored pens in numerous coffee cups (because listing doesn’t work unless there’s a color code!), and those cheap dollar-store toys that wiggle and swing when the LED light is on (just because).

Okay…all right…I’ll share.

Don’t judge me! The picture doesn’t include my teetering stack of magazines and mail, but you get the picture. Actually, most of this mess “belongs” on my desk. The pens, the messy paint palettes, the dirty paint rag…

So, does my messy desk inspire hives or glee? Answer for a chance to win a download of your choice!

Me with my busted tailbone means a really short blog today. Even the donut pillow isn’t giving me much relief! And yes, my poor family has to hear about it, constantly. 🙂

Ugh. My desk is covered with paint palettes, unopened mail, an opened package of fabric glue, which I need to put away, a couple of empty water glasses. I wonder if I can make my daughter feel bad about the mess I don’t want to clean up. Yeah, like she doesn’t have a nasty house with mud trails from the kids coming inside after playing in the melting snow. Goodness, I even found a little stuffed dog the seven-year-old parked on my desk. Must mean it has a hole I’m supposed to sew up. Doesn’t she know I don’t want to do anything?

How soon can I go back to bed?

That’s how my day is going to be. Me sitting for a minute, whining about the mess around me, then moving gingerly back to the bed to ease onto the mattress. Wonder what wonderful thing I can watch to while away the day and forget about the fact the cats are leaving their hair all over the end of my bed. Do you think it would be a stretch to ask my dd to change my bedding? I guess I won’t ask. I’m not very skilled at guilting her into doing things. She says I have “good years” left, so I better to put them to “good” use. Yeah, she’s my girl.

This is what I aspire to do today—if only I could sit…

Isn’t that the greatest picture of a couch potato ever?

So, any advice for the woman who isn’t comfortable sitting, lying, or walking? My dd has cut me off from the good pharmaceuticals.

UPDATE: The winner is…Tamye Whitener!
*~*~*

I’ve been busy sharing photos of Snowmageddon on Facebook and Instagram these past few days. We had a “once in a lifetime” weather event, per the weathermen. We’ve had these cold temperatures before, we’ve also had this much snow, but we’ve never had two snowstorms hover over us for so long, which is what’s causing all the problems with accumulation. All schooling this week was virtual, which was no biggie for my kids since they’ve been virtual since COVID hit. There’s been no mail delivery since Monday because the roads are impassable. We’ve been dripping every faucet non-stop. We had the hot-water pipe into the kitchen freeze up, but on Wednesday it warmed up just enough the pipe unfroze, so now we’re running both the hot and cold water to make sure it didn’t refreeze. Looks like no pipe damage. Woot!

My SIL, dd, and the kids have had a blast. My SIL tied a river innertube to the tractor and “sledded” the kids around the yard. He cleared the driveway and built them an outside “igloo”. There have been snowball fights—everything they’ve seen on TV and never experienced before because we NEVER get this kind of weather. Never this accumulation for sure.

I haven’t had as much fun. Early on Wednesday, I sat at the kitchen table eating breakfast. The little one’s coat was hung over the back, so she came rushing in because she was heading outside to play. I rose partway to help her free the coat, but didn’t realize that when she tugged it away, she pulled the entire chair with it. I sat and fell, my tailbone, and then the back of my head, slapping the floor. My head’s okay other than a bruise. My tailbone? Let’s just say hydrocodone and tramadol are my best friends…

Puzzle-Contest

Solve the puzzle then tell me about your “relationship” with snow for a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card!

On a whim late last year, I decided to redo my laundry room. It wasn’t a completely unplanned project, but something I have wanted to do for the last seven years and had lacked the inspiration on what to do. I had a vague idea. Paint, add storage and much-needed organization because I was tired of tripping over things every time I stepped foot in there.

Halfway into painting my white walls teal I was having doubts. Serious doubts. I didn’t like the color. I loved the idea of teal walls but the reality had me questioning my choice. I wasn’t sure it was going to pair well with cabinets I had spent the previous three days painting white and grey. My trust in the project was gone. I was doubting my lack of a solid plan. I was ready to head back to Home Depot for new paint when my husband stopped me with a gentle reminder that I always have self-doubts right before I finish a project.

He wasn’t just talking about around-the-house projects, and his words hit me hard because I have been waffling on my latest release, which will be my third release ever. I thought the first two had taught me enough that book three would be easy. I have been dragging my feet because it isn’t only a third book. It’s the final book in my debut series and as excited as I am to move onto new works. Things that are a bit different there is something scary in the new and unknown.

Finally finishing the laundry room meant it was going to be different. New. As much as I had thought I wanted the change something deep inside me decided to fight against it at the last minute. A year of quarantine and living in the unknown didn’t help but I told myself to trust the process. I have always been an observer, a planner. Even if I don’t have an elaborate plan I’m prepared. So I finished the laundry room and I love the color. I love the color more than I thought I would and now doing laundry is a bit more fun.

Somehow, it was harder to trust my process for writing. When it comes to writing, I’m a pantser. When I try to plot and outline, my characters laugh and decide to mutiny and do their own thing. I have learned the hard way that my characters are as stubborn as I am. Probably more. So the doubt I experienced with Say You’ll Be Mine was fierce. Once the manuscript was done, I reviewed my release plan. Then scrapped it and made a new improved plan. Doubted that one too so I made another. (Do you see the pattern?)

I didn’t trust my process. I chucked my process out the window. Now I’m left with the comical aftermath of where it is plan to see I need to listen to my own advice and trust my process. I can say with conviction that I have learned my lesson!

Say You’ll Be Mine

Nona Walker is living a lie.

The petite beauty is a force of nature, all unapologetic sass and in your face honesty. Or so it appears. Beneath the surface, a fear of history repeating itself and bringing pain to those closest to her lingers. Love and loyalty drive Nona to keep the people she cares about at arm’s distance, especially her hot and handy coworker.

A true romantic, Ben Booker has been harboring a not-so-secret crush on Nona. The time he has spent working side by side with Nona has proved no other woman can capture his attention.

Can Ben convince her to claim the happily-ever-after she doesn’t feel she deserves?

Get your copy here!