Operation and Cover Updates!

Okay, so as promised I said I would collate the submissions for our prospective Daniels, but first… I’ve changed the cover of Sovereign Hope. I know people will think I’m crazy for agreeing to this just a little over a week before the release date, but it needed some COLOUR!!!

And red is always the way to go. Check it out….

What do we all think? Tough call… The panic starts to set in, clearly, a couple of days before sending your baby out into the big bad world, and I’m anxious to fiddle with things too much.

Anyway…. On to Daniel!!

Okay, first suggestion came from Brandy over at All The Fun Starts After Dark. She said, While reading the book I couldn’t help but picture this guy, Tyler Hoechlin from the Teen Wolf show on MTV. Don’t know if you can use a picture of a actor/model but in my opinion he’s definitely Daniel! 
Unfortunately, actors are kinda out of the question, however they’re still fun to post, so please feel free!!

Second pick came from Lis over at The Reader Lines. She suggested Danny Schwartz who’s a British model from Croyden. You can read more about Danny here: I like the fact that he’s already called Daniel. That’s gotta help, right?

 Alrighty, now onto one of the most avid Daniel supporters going, Ali from Ginger-Read Reviews. She has her eye on Oscar Spendrup. He’s a Swedish model; i went online to try and find out some more about Oscar but could only discern that he’s quite frequently termed as ‘The Tiger of Sweden.” Quite the accolade. You can learn more about Oscar here.

Carmen of Book Me! is joint crazy person with Ali, and has found this guy, Abel. And it is a cool name, Carmen! You can find out more about Abel here. I like the fact that he’s wearing a hat to keep warm. Keeping warm is important.

 I’ve thrown down the gauntlet to Carmen and Ali, and they have agreed to become official type Daniel investigators!!! I haven’t coined the perfect term for their particular office just yet, but it’s gonna come to me. I can feel it.

I’m going to leave it at four posts for now, but I will update in a few days with the next four. And when I reach fifteen, I’ll reveal my pick!!

OPERATION: Find Daniel


 

Okay, people. I need your help.

With Sovereign Hope set to be released in less than two weeks, I’m preparing everything I’ll need to release Eternal Hope shortly afterwards. There’s only one problem.

I need to find Daniel.

The cover of Eternal Hope belongs to him, and he’s out there somewhere as we speak… I don’t care if he’s some hot model you’ve been drooling over on the internet. I don’t care if he’s your boyfriend (lucky you). I don’t even care if he’s your milkman! I want to know over the coming weeks who you think looks like Daniel- who you think would kill it on the cover of Eternal Hope.

Let’s begin Operation: Find Daniel!

And to all of you amazing reviewers out there who have already finished Sovereign Hope, who do you think looks like Daniel? I need to know! Get those jpegs winging their way to me STAT. I’ll post up people’s suggestions as I get them so everyone can let me know what they think!!!

NOTE: Make sure you have potential Daniel’s permission before rubgy tackling him in the street and sticking a camera phone in his face. Let’s not land ourselves with restraining orders, ladies!

Indie Author Awesomeness!!!!

 

This year seems to be slipping though my fingers. I turned 28 last December, and since then things have felt…slippery. I’m creeping up on 30. I’m supposed to be established in a flourishing career right now. I’m probably supposed to have kids. I’m sure at least a few people in my life think I’m supposed to have grown up a little and given up on my “unattainable” dream of being a writer. I haven’t really accomplished any of the goals that I thought I would have as a panicked teenager, when asked what I would be doing in ten years time.

I was going to be a lawyer. I was going to have built this perfect house, smack in the middle of some woods, where no one would ever bother me.  I was going to have lots of money and super cool, funny friends who looked up to me. I was going to have it all figured out.

Didn’t really happen.

I’ll tell you why: Change. I need change in my life. And I wasn’t going to get any change by going to university for four years, or building a house somewhere which meant I had to stay there and actually live there for, like, forever. If I’d done any of the things I’d dreamed would make me happy as a fourteen-year-old, I have a sneaking suspicion that I’d be miserable as all hell right now. Instead, I travelled the world. I saw Europe, and America, and Canada. I forewent a traditional education to learn other lessons that I really did need to learn. And I wrote the whole time.

Writing has been the only constant in my life, apart from my awesome husband, of course. It’s given me so much over the past few years- so much passion, excitement and feelings of true achievement.  But it’s also been hard. The hardest thing I’ve ever done, by a long chalk, is learning how to become a self-published author. The process has taken so much work, and pushed me to learn so many new skills. I never thought I’d have to learn how to format or design webpages, or figure out how best to market my own products.

I always thought I’d get more sleep.

Thursday 31st May       02.48 am

The stuff in my head…

…I wonder if Sam and Dean ever do ordinary things. Do they have to go to the dentist? They’re teeth are pretty good. Maybe Cass gave them super teeth powers…

…I should check my email….

…I can smell burned toast. That means I have a brain tumor, doesn’t it -if I can smell burned toast? Great. I’m probably going to die now, and I’ll never see my books published…

…what if that attachment didn’t send? I should probably get up and check…. Should I get up and check? Yeah, I probably should…

…I hate the Australian internets. Makes me want to kill people. I just need to find out who’s in charge…

….Oooh, three more friends on facebook…

…how come people look at me like that when I tell them I’m self published? It’s a lot harder to be a successful self published author than it is to be- ugh, never mind. They clearly have no idea… 

… Must. Write. Down. Amazing, Ideas. Immediately!…

…did I remember to eat today?…

…Only two weeks ‘til book launch. Am I ready? What if no one buys it? Oh great, I think I’m gonna throw up….

Other than thoughts of the Winchester boys and my fears of untimely death, I’m sure this nightly monologue of worry plagues most self-published authors. We write to make others happy. We write to give people a gift that we enjoy so greatly ourselves. Mostly we do it because we need an outlet for all the weird things we imagine, or for the people we’ve dreamt up in our heads. We just want our work to be out there, and we want people to like it. And if we can find a way so that we can pay our bills and get our hair done occasionally along the way, then fan-freakin’-tastic!

I’m proud to call myself a self-published author, because that means I’ve never given up.  In the end, after I’d done most of the work myself, anyway, I made the choice to self-publish, even rejecting an offer of traditional small publishing, because this process has empowered me and made me who I am. It’s made my writing stronger, and I’m proud of what I’ve been able to accomplish.

I hope…

I hope for a lot of things. Sure, one day I hope I’ll be able to walk into Waterstones or Barnes and Noble, and my books will sit on the shelves alongside my peers.

That would be cool.

Mostly, I hope people will realize that the publishing world is changing, and being self published is incredibly awesome and rewarding!  Should anyone out there require evidence of Indie Author Awesomeness, check out these three equally astonishing books, by the equally talented Tammara Webber, Colleen Hoover and Jamie McQuire! If you haven’t already read them, you’re really missing out, people!

Author Incident Report

Offender: Frankie Rose

Offence: Succumbing to ‘The Rage’

Book title: Sovereign Hope

Release date: 1st July 2012

Incident:

On June 4th 2012, while walking to work, one Mr. Ivan Andrews of 4271 West Avenue, witnessed the alleged offender, armed with a neon pink spaghetti strainer, hanging from a tree, screaming abuse and throwing her shoes.

Upon approaching the alleged offender, Mr. Andrews enquired as to what seemed to be the problem. At this point, the offender is reported to have sworn profusely at Mr. Andrews and referred to him as a “stupid, stupid man.”

Mr. Andrews then reports that the alleged offender began climbing further up the tree in an attempt to reach a bird in the higher branches. Mr. Andrews suspects the bird was a Whip Poor Will, having heard its repeated calls from the sidewalk. The birdsong, Mr. Andrews reports, is what appeared to be sending the alleged offender into what he referred to as a “murderous rage.”

She was heard to scream, “I swear I’m going to kill you. You just wait. I’ll going to make you suffer, you monster!”  At this point, Mr. Andrews was met by a couple of women passing in the street who apparently knew the alleged offender. Both women were sympathetic to the offender’s cause, and began cheering her on.  Confused, Mr. Andrews claims he asked the women what was going on. He indicates the women told him the alleged offender was a writer, and the bird had been singing outside her study window for extended periods of time, distracting the alleged offender from her work. This, according to the women, was unacceptable behavior.

Mr. Andrews then witnessed the fire brigade arriving. The alleged offender was removed from the tree by force, where she was restrained until state medical workers arrived to assess her mental condition. The alleged offender was heard to shout, “It’s not my fault he has a death wish. I’m on a freakin’ deadline!”

The alleged offender will be detained for an undetermined period of time, until she displays the necessary composure to return and function as a normal member of society.

  

THIS IS HOW I FEEL SOMETIMES.  THE BIRDS JUST DON’T SEEM TO GET IT.

Us writers… sometimes we get touchy. For me, I’m usually at my worst when I’m reaching the final stages of my manuscript and the light is visible at the end of the tunnel. I want- no I need everything to happen quicker than it is. I feel like if I don’t get things down today, or preferably yesterday, then I’m liable to forget all of the perfectly imagined scenes that have plagued me for weeks already, waiting impatiently to be penned. Or more accurately smashed out against laptop keys with an electric fury. I like to call this period of writing ‘The Rage’.

While mid-Rage (like other authors, I’m sure) I may or may not have the tendency to overreact to minor distractions and interruptions.

Possibly.

I’ve been known to shoot my husband an exasperated look while saying,  “No, of course I don’t want food!” My body’s requirement for sustenance is obviously on hold, since I’m so unbelievably close to completing my book that it understands I don’t possibly have time to eat. I survive off my fat reserves during The Rage. I know this. My body knows this. And now so does my husband.

Thankfully, my better half also understands my need for complete control over my surroundings when I’m summiting the final haul of my mountainous battle to Complete The Book. He doesn’t mind me screaming out of the window at the amateur-hour workmen doing very important ‘construction’ work (digging a big hole). He doesn’t mind me walking around in my mermaid-print PJs during the day, because I’m too angry at the disorganized state of my wardrobe to consider rooting through it to find something appropriate to wear.

I’ve tried to change. I even tried yoga, which, for me, was an incredible step into uncomfortable territory. I’m more likely to attend a Muay Thai class than Pilates. Let’s just say, the tranquility didn’t stick. I’m never going to be the flower power-type hippy with a daisy in my hair, concentrating on drawing my consciousness into my crown chakra. That’s just not me.

So I do other things. I run; I listen to raging music to match my raging mood; I manage to growl in such a way that implies I’m not beyond chewing off a limb if anyone disrupts my flow. I’m sure most authors out there must have coping mechanisms prepared for the most stressful parts of their writing processes. I’m keen to learn what they are. Who knows- maybe I’m not the most psychotic person to ever abuse a laptop.

There have to be hundreds of potential remedies to cure The Rage. If anyone feels like sharing their sure-fire tips for guaranteeing they don’t end up in a tree, brandishing novelty colored kitchen utensils while mental health workers discuss the best way to jimmie them into a straight jacket, then please feel free to share!!!

In the meantime, I’ll concentrate on blocking out the world and writing some more books. I hope someone, somewhere out there, likes them.

This post was written for The Writer’s Voice. You can check out their awesome interviews and guest blogs, as well as the stupendous brilliance posted by the rest of the crew, by hitting the button on the top right of this page.

Thanks!

I don’t want to clean all the things, or iron stupid shirts! Just so you know!

This is it right here. Pretty much sums up my day. Got a list of editing to do; got ARCs to order for reviewers; got bookmarks to order, and file formats to review; Oh yeah, and I have BOOKS TO WRITE!!

But no. Today I have to fill out IRS forms so I can pay taxes in America (I was sure I lived in Australia), and find lawyers and other useful people who I need to do irritatingly small jobs for me. And I have to clean all the things and iron all the shirts.

Thanks, Edward Monkton, for summing up my life thus far 😉

Book Bloggers Will One Day Rule The World!!!

Well…

Maybe they’re starting with the internet, but let’s face it- it’s going to happen. You know it. I know it. There’s a good chance the traditional publishing organisations know it too, which may explain why they’re cowering behind the sofas, whispering, we’re not home right now! They’re no doubt terrified by all the kick ass bloggers out there, pounding on the doors of a crumbling establishment, demanding to be let in or they’re gonna blow their big, bad houses down.

It’s only a matter of time.

You may wonder why I’m suddenly spouting war cries and howling at the moon, and it’s because today has been EPIC. I spent the majority of my Sunday not writing, but answering emails to amazing people from all over the world who run book blogs- the people out there devouring our work as writers, posting cataclysmically badass reviews for us (when we deserve them!) and committing the better part of their precious free time to gushing about the books they think rock. And all for the love of reading.

I can do nothing more than salute you guys. You work so hard at what you do, and you do it extraordinarily well. The times when an author relied on a publishing house to get their work out there are gone. It’s the passion and joy that you guys put into your reviews and blog sites that are making books these days, and without you all we’d be nothing!

So keep up the good work. Keep reading, keep writing, keep sharing. Keep laughing! I’ve had so many opportunities to laugh with you over the past few weeks, and my soul feels all the better for having met you.

For all of the readers out there that rely on book blogs to find out what’s hot and what’s not, who do you turn to to scout for awesome new books? Who gives you the best reviews, and who makes you smile while they do it?

Love, love, love

Frankie

p.s I was so intrigued by this book by Leslie Simon that I just had to go buy it. I’m thinking it’ll be more of a manifesto than a work of observation! Check it out!

Book Trailers

 are freakin’ cool y’all!

Okay, so I know what you’re thinking. She just told me she wrote a book. Now she’s telling me she made a trailer? Well, yeah… I wouldn’t have believed it either, but I have evidence!! It’s right here:

Let me know what you think! Watch the link and hit that little button. Y’know, the one with the clenched fist and the sticky up thumb. Don’t hit the button with the thumb pointing down. That button sucks.

Cover Release!

Sovereign Hope Cover!

I couldn’t hold out any longer, guys. I had to release the cover for Sovereign Hope before my head exploded! The work was done by the extremely talented Emma Michaels, who has worked impossibly hard to produce this amazing cover. I love it! I hope you all do too!

Image

Hope Series Blog

Welcome! With the release of Sovereign Hope right around the corner, I’d like to treat you all to a teeny tiny teaser. I know giving you the opening paragraphs and nothing more might be considered cruel, but please… be patient! I’d like to hope it’s worth the wait

Frankie

                                                                                                                                         One

                                                                                                                                     Figueroa

The thing about car chases is this: if you’re traveling through downtown LA at lunchtime, you can forget about them.  In that kind of traffic, all you can hope to have in the way of a highway pursuit is a crawling affair where the object of the chase has plenty of time to make a distress call. Phone in hand, Farley Hope was inching her way down Figueroa with a freak rainstorm pelting the world beyond the windscreen into obscurity when her best friend, Tessa Kennedy, finally picked up.

“Did you know there’s a sale on at Hillman’s? My mom’s buying me the cutest-.”

“Tess, I’m being followed,” Farley hissed. She was alone in the truck, but it seemed necessary to keep her voice down all the same.

A weary sigh rattled down the phone. “Are you sure? Is it another hallucination?”

An almost animalistic growl built in the back of Farley’s throat. “No, this is definitely real. I’m ninety percent positive this car was parked outside my front door this morning, and I saw it again when I left the dentist’s. I thought I was imagining things but the same car is following me now, I swear.”

“Is that Farley?” Mrs. Kennedy asked in the background. “Tell her I said hello. We’re all thinking of Moira.”

“Hey, my mom said-“

“Yeah, I heard. Tell her thanks.” Tess wasn’t taking this seriously at all. Farley could still see the murky outline of the black 1970’s Dodge Charger two cars back, making every turn she did, following her from lane to lane. “Can you meet me?”

“Sure, I can. What else are friends for but swooping in to the rescue when their girlfriends are being stalked by creepy strangers? But listen, if you really are worried shouldn’t you just call Detective Miller?”

Farley gritted her teeth. “Yes, but I’m not his favorite person right now. He thinks I’m harassing him. He probably wouldn’t even take my call.”

Tess sighed again, a sigh usually accompanied by a crinkled expression of concern that Farley could practically see over the phone. “I thought you said you weren’t going to call him anymore?” she said. “You know what they say about the boy who cried wolf.”

“This is not the same!” Farley cried. “My mom is missing. She’s been missing for six months. I think I have a right to know where they’re at in their investig-” she broke off.  “Never mind. I’m by the Friday Morning Club. How soon can you get here?”

Tess arranged to meet her twenty minutes later in the Staples Center parking lot a tenth of a mile down the road, and Farley hung up the phone, feeling no better for having spoken to her. The rain was coming down even harder now, and she could barely see anything at all; just the beading streaks of rainwater that caught and refracted the light like a thousand spent fireworks, spiraling and twinkling to the earth in a satisfied sigh.

She was staring into the rear view, trying to catch a glimpse of the Dodge again, when the big black SUV in front of her jolted to a halt. She slammed on the brakes, but not quite quickly enough to avoid ploughing straight into the other car’s rear bumper.

Oh. Crap.

The metallic crunch spoke of thousands of dollars worth of damage. Farley whimpered and slumped over the steering wheel. Had they noticed? Of course they had. A thin grey smoke issued out from under the hood of the truck. The force with which she had slammed into their expensive-looking sports vehicle must have been pretty considerable. She spun around in her seat, looking to see if any of the other stationary motorists were staring. She couldn’t see anyone. Her stomach still twisted when she looked in the rear-view, though. The Dodge wasn’t two cars back anymore. It was right behind her.