Having An Open Mind Equals Opportunity

The publishing industry has been evolving and changing for the past few years, giving authors more opportunities than ever before to take their careers in directions they mmay never have considered a few years ago.

I started writing seriously in 2006. I was first published in 2008. And last year, I self-published my first novella. If it’s one thing I’ve learned since I began taking my writing career seriously, it is that having an open mind has served me well. I’m not just a writer, but a businesswoman. My overall goal is to make a living off my writing. Whether I self-publish, write for digital, or big publishers, or submit stories to Woman’s World. No matter what I’m doing, I’m gaining experience and knowledge and most importantly, growing as a writer.

Admittedly, before I knew anything about self-publishing I didn’t even give it a second thought. After all, that’s not what real writers do according to the old publishing model. You write a story and go through the querying process, which can take months. I almost didn’t consider self-publishing to be honest. Why? Well because I knew nothing about it, and just thinking of all that would need to be done to put out one title scared the heck out of me.

Through talking to other writers and reading self-published books, I finally started looking at the possibilities and advantages of self-publishing. I’m so glad I did. There’s a lot of work that goes in to publish a book, but it’s a wonderful learning experience. Being your own publisher is tough. I’ve added a few more extra hats. *g* Self-publishing gives me a different prospective on writing and readers. You need to know your market, target audience, and how to produce a quality product that has an equal chance of standing out from the other books out there.

It probably sounds so simple, but if there’s one thing I’d stress to fellow writers it’s don’t dismiss a learning opportunity. Always keep an open mind and educate yourself about all the opportunities out there to grow your writing career. Through publishing my own material, I’ve learned that though it takes planning, it’s definitely something I’m going to do again. Obviously, you can’t know if something’s right for you or not until you try it. There’s no right or wrong way to build your career. The only way that matters is the one that works for you.

Am I going to self-publish everything I write? No. For me, it’s all about building my backlist. I’m not picky on how I do that. *g* Publishers, digital and major have large numbers of loyal readers. Readers who’ll hopefully, after reading my books will follow my career.

No matter how you decide to build your career, have fun and enjoy the process!

Abbey’s Bio…
Abbey MacInnis is a published author of Contemporary Western romance. Along with Contemporary, she writes Historical, Paranormal and erotic romance. Whether she’s being swept off her feet by a Medieval knight, regency rake, or cowboy or cop, her heroes are always strong men who’ll love their women unconditionally.
On most days, Abbey can be found at her computer, penning her latest tale. A tale where love, respect, and passion combine to create a satisfying and happy ending. She invites you to step in to the pages of her romances, to leave your worries behind and get swept up in her world.
Check out my latest release:
His Fifth Avenue Thief
Two years prior, Irishman Aaron O’Connel took his life from rags to riches. Chance and wits have kept him alive in 1850’S New York City. But no amount of money or success can bring his love Cathlene back from the dead. When a thief sneaks her way into his mansion, the last woman he expects to find absconding with his belongings is his long lost wife.
Abandoned on New York’s shores, a widowed, penniless, and ruined Cathlene O’Connel was left to fend for herself in an unfamiliar world. Fear and circumstance drove her to a life of thieving in order to survive, but her heart risks the biggest danger of all when Aaron hands her a scandalous proposition: A son in exchange for her freedom.
Now that he has her back, Aaron doesn’t intend to let Cathlene slip between his fingers. He’ll do whatever it takes to regain her trust and love. But when an enemy from Cathlene’s past resurfaces, Aaron not only faces battling for Cathlene’s heart, but also her life.

Available at
Amazon

Posted in Books, Business, Life Observations, Writing | Tagged , , , , | 6 Comments

The Free Addiction

I don’t have an ereader, but I love ebooks. For the last 7 years, I’ve read them on my pda or computer. Even though the readers are cheap in price, I haven’t been willing to part with the money for a device that to just read on. Which is weird because I have a plain cell phone (not a smart phone) and an MP3 player and lots of other things that just do one thing. Of course, I do have an ipad and on it I have nook and kindle apps.
Which leads me to my latest problem.
As I writer, I am a member of many, many writing loops and groups and as soon as I see that someone has a book free for the day, I download it. I’m easy that way. But before you judge me and my addiction, I should say that I don’t actively seek out free books. I only download those that pop up in my inbox.
I could delude myself and say it helps out my fellow writers. Which it does. I also write reviews for those books that I like (3 or more stars) as payment for giving me a couple of hours of entertainment. And I also retweet their announcement so that other freebie-aholics can download them too.
But, I’m not at a point where I get to read those books. I’ve started a very aggressive writing/publishing schedule and I can’t read fiction and write it at the same time see previous post. I currently have downloaded 212 free books and I bought 74 over Christmas. And while that sounds like a lot, I just read 15 books in less than two weeks. (Okay 5 were novellas, but so are some of my freebies, especially one that I just read)
So I could theoretically do it in a year.
Except I won’t be reading anything until I finish writing the Redaction series but I’ll keep downloading those freebies and occasionally even buying a few more to add to the pile.
So maybe the freebies aren’t my addiction; it’s reading that I can’t give up.
Yeah, that sounds so much better. Now I just have to work on that time thing.

Posted in Books | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

Editing, Writing and Reading, Oh My!

I don’t know about other authors, but I can’t write fiction and read it too. Nonfiction is not a problem. I guess it is a right brain-left brain kind of thing. Just like editing. Editing uses a part of my mind that is sequestered from the creative side. This has disastrous consequences in that I’ve often edited my voice right out of a story because I was editing not writing.
For some of you that might not make any sense. So let me explain. An author’s voice is the unique way she tells a story. It tells a reader without even looking at the name on the cover who wrote the book. It is a bit like a fingerprint, but only a bit. Why? Because, I tend to echo a writer’s style, using the words and cadence another brings to their story and aping it in mine.
Imagine a horror novel grafted onto a romance novel and you get the kind of wrong I’m talking about. It doesn’t work and my critique partners wanted to know exactly what my husband had done to make the work so angry. Considering, I was supposed to be writing a romantic comedy, you can understand why I had to go back and edit the story.
It turned out better than I anticipated once I’d transitioned into the genre completely. And because I was in the midst of creating, the editing didn’t resemble too much slash and burn. My voice remained intact.
Having been writing for longer than I care to admit, I know that my voice is unique. Some people really, really, really hate it and others not so much. And while my voice remains the same, the rhythm changes for each genre, the word choices get darker and violent or lighter and tongue in cheek.
The month of March is proving interesting for me as an author. Not only am I revising Redaction in preparation for the new chapters and the next books, but I’m reading 15 books for a contest (romance books), then I begin edit sessions for another paranormal romance due out this summer by Zumaya Publications, finish up the revisions for a romance due out next year and wait for the edits for two SciFi Romances that I’m publishing next month.
I think my brain is in for a serious case of whip-lash.
But I do love a challenge.

Posted in Books | Tagged , , , | 6 Comments

New Music

Since I finished the rough draft of my book 2 days early, I decided to reward myself with some music as I sent off on the revisions/additions to Redaction. I love music in the background but rarely actually hear it. Although there are times that my kids tell me to stop signing, so obviously it is getting through somewhere:-)

Here are the new songs on my MP3 players:

Mercy By: Duffy

Candyman By: Christina Aguilera

Mr. Know It All By: Kelly Clarkson

Someone Like You By: Adele

Make You Feel My Love By: Adele

Alone With You By: Jake Owen

Storm Warning By: Hunter Hayes

I’m Gonna Love You Through It By: Martina McBride

I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) By: The Proclaimers

I Don’t Want This Night To End By: Luke Bryan

Country Girl (Shake It For Me) By: Luke Bryan

Ours By: Taylor Swift

All Your Life By: The Band Perry

Moves Like Jagger By: Maroon 5

Crawling Back To You By: Daughtry

Rehab By: Amy Winehouse

Man In The Mirror By: Michael Jackson

Black Or White By: Michael Jackson

Smooth Criminal By: Michael Jackson

Tonight (I’m Lovin’ You) By: Enrique Iglesias

I Like It By: Enrique Iglesias

Crushcrushcrush By: Paramore

Crush By: Jennifer Paige

It Will Rain By: Bruno Mars

Stronger (What Doesn’t Kill You) By: Kelly Clarkson

Gotta Be Somebody By: Nickelback

New Divide By: Linkin Park

Toxic By: Britney Spears

You Raise Me Up By: Josh Groban

Super Duper Love By: Joss Stone

No Hurry By: Zac Brown Band

Since I don’t have You by The Skyliners

All I wanna do is Make Love to You by Heart

Twilight Zone by Golden Earring

There are some that make sense in tying to an apocalyptic novel, the others? I can’t even begin to imagine, but I love the songs.

Posted in Music | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Redaction the next book (Part III)

I’ve finally finished the rough draft of the book to be published next year, so I’m set to begin adding a few more pertinent chapters to Redaction before plunging into the sequel. So here’s the situation: As usual, I’m having a difficult time coming up with a title for the next book so I’m going to open it up to you. Leave a title suggestion in the comments block. Next month, I’ll post the suggestions and everyone can vote. The top 3 will get a free copy of the next Redaction book a week before it’s published.

Does that mean I’m going to use your suggestion? I won’t know until I finish the book.

Because the title should reflect the contents of the book, here’s briefly what the book will be about.

Five people on the trip of their life. Anthrax continues to rain from the skies as our survivors make their way toward the safety of abandoned mines in southwestern Colorado. They’re racing against time to beat the radiation fallout as nuclear power plants meltdown. Nature is throwing obstacles in their path and soon their facing a familiar enemy–their fellow man. Even the core group isn’t immune and soon factions begin to form. The divisions may result in the human race’s extinction.

So what do you propose for a title?

Death March
Walk of Life

Posted in Books | Tagged , , , , | 13 Comments

Book signings (How much is that author at the table?)

I’m an extreme introvert but like many authors I do book signings. Not many and never, ever by myself. Putting myself in front of others makes me physically ill so it helps to have the support of my fellow writers as a mental diversion.
So why do I do it?
I like to people watch and I refuse to be ruled by my fears.
And when my chapter mates ask me to speak on a particular subject, I actually do it, too. (In April, I’ll be signing and giving a lecture on how to use history to add realism to your book.) Understand that public speaking is even worse for me, kind of like sky diving to someone who’s afraid of heights, except I would parachute because I would be by myself.
But I digress.
While I was sitting at a recent book signing a thought occurred to me. Being me, it was a weird thought–representing my slightly skewed version of reality.
Watching people stroll by without making eye contact, I felt like a pet at the pet store, waiting for my forever family to find me. I’m pretty sure I looked that pathetic. But unlike the pets, I couldn’t even promise that I didn’t bite. I do bite, but only my husband so everyone else is safe:-)
I’m sure it’s intimidating to passers-by to see a table full of authors, some of whom could be as pushy as used car salesman. But most of us are pretty interesting people and more than that, we’re readers so we may know about books (not ours) that you might like.

Posted in Books | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Interview with Connie Flynn

Happy Monday everyone! Today’s guest is the fantastic Connie Flynn talking werewolves. Leave a comment because she’s giving away one of her books!

What prompted you to write that first book? Did you always want to be an author?

I’ve always been drawn toward writing but thought I wanted to be a
visual artist. I still enjoy painting but writing ended up being my
true calling. And, truth is, I am a better writer than an artist.

How do you decide which story to write?

It would be so wonderful to say I have a method, but I don’t. A setting
intrigues me, a character comes to mind, I study what’s hot at the
moment and try to project where that will go in the time it takes to
write a book, or I just sit down with my story building grid tools and
start filling in the boxes. It’s never the same way twice, except that
I’m always drawn to stories that expand the imagination. That’s
probably why parnormal, urban fantasy, and straight fantasy appeal to me
so much. I’d rather write about an imagined world than be constrained
by the world we live in.

Can you tell us a little bit about your latest release?

I am currently reissuing my backlist with SHADOW ON THE MOON and SHADOW
OF THE WOLF currently available. These paranorml romances were
ground-breaking because the hero actually was a werewolf (which is
almost a given these days). And because the villain of SHADOW ON THE
MOON became the heroine of SHADOW OF THE WOLF.

What drew you to the paranormal genre? And which is your favorite paranormal creature?

I like writing a world from my imagination, which, of course, is not
totally possible, but more so than other genres. I don’t have a
favorite paranormal creature and this is one area where using the
imagination can get you in trouble. To make creatures relatable, they
have to have a relatable culture, so there we are, back to dreary
reality. There’s no way around it, because to make a imaginary world
believable the roots have to delve into what’s commonly known. So, to
build a werewolf I had to study wolf behavior and werewolf legends, then
build their culture around them.

You write a lot of paranormal stories, have you ever had a paranormal experience?

Oh, I’d love to make one up. That would be perfect. But the plain dull
truth is I haven’t. I was in a car headed to Phoenix with my sister and
mother once, and they swear they saw a unidentified flying object, which
was later reported on television. Alas, I’d fallen asleep, so there
went my chance.

Do you plot your stories out or do you just start writing?

I have no strict regimen. Sometimes I plot from the beginning, other
times I start writing. As soon as my protagonist comes to life I start
writing through their point of view. As soon as they’ve established
their personality I’m back to the structure stage. I have discovered,
though, that for me it works best if I don’t write to many pages before
getting the plot nailed down.

Which of your characters is most like you and which is least like you?

Most of my paranormal heroines are like me in that when they latch onto
a mission, they just never let go. The character least like me is from
one of my earlier Harlequin Superromances WALKING ON AIR. The heroine
is a people pleaser who most of all never wants to go against her
father. While I wouldn’t call myself a hard core rebel, i often go
against the tide, especially when I’m clear on my purpose.

Can you describe your office or where you normally write?

It’s not very exciting. It’s the second bedroom of my patio home and I
have the regular desk, computer and printer and a view of green, growing
things outside my window.

Which came first the plot or the characters?

It varies from book to book. In truth plot and character are two sides
of the same coin, so it kind of switches back and forth as I write the book.

Have you ever gotten stuck while writing a scene or chapter? How did you
overcome it?

Yes, I get stuck more often than I like and I find the only way to get
unstuck is to write through it. Write about scenery, write crappy
pages, describe the character’s clothing, dig deep into introspection.
I toss out most of it but in the end I usually have something I can pull
out and run with.

What is the wackiest thing that’s ever happened to you since you started writing?

Other than having customers ask me for directions to the restroom at book signing? Not a thing.

Did you do any research for you book and, if so, did you find any interesting information that you had to include in the story?

For the werewolf books all my research was about wolf behavior and werewolf legends and I included most of it.

Where can readers find out more about you?

Oh, I’m all over the web. My writing addresses are:
Website: http://connieflynn.com Facebook: Connie Flynn
Twitter: @connieflynn
Blog: http://bootcamp-classroom.blogspot.com/
My teaching addresses are: http;//bootcampfornovelists.com Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/bootcampfor.novelists
Twitter: @bootcamp4novel

Thank you for this opportunity to visit your blog and meet your people.

Thank you for being here.

Posted in Books | Tagged , , , , | 20 Comments

Interview with Tracy Sumner

What are some of the advantages to re-releasing titles from your backlist?

Easy one! Imagine, in the previous world of publishing, these books we loved (and you love them like children when you create them, at least I do), well, these books were sent out in print form…and had about a two-month shelf life, then they died. There were some bookstores that, if you had a good relationship with them, would stock the books longer, etc. However, they just entered this nether region. And only the A-list authors really got a lot of run from their backlist. Think Nora Roberts!  Now, with the e-publishing revolution – whether an author is with a publisher or not – these books have a chance to gain new readership! I don’t really care about anything but these guys (my books ) having the chance to be read by someone who will care about the characters for even an hour or two. Preferably on the beach!

What do you legally need to do to ensure you can re-release backlist titles?

Well, I covered my bases very well. I closely reviewed the contracts – and I used an intellectual property lawyer in NYC so that all was laid out appropriately. I have a good relationship with my former publisher – and this is business only.

Do you see this as a trend among authors and, if so, of all or for certain genres?

YES. Perhaps in romance especially, because we are a very loyal genre and devoted to our authors, but why not? It’s a win-win for authors and readers.

Do re-release backlist books usually come out as eBooks?

Mine are. In fact, I have not, as yet, decided on even going the print route. You see, I had a very personal revelation when I received my first Kindle (I killed it and am on the second!) in Sept 2010. I was so into actual books in my hand. I am not an early adopter. And guess what? My first Kindle died in the middle of Julie Anne Long book at the beach this summer. And I finished the entire book on my phone!!!! If this is happening to me – it’s coming. No joke.

What else does it take to successfully re-release a backlist book?

I think you must keep writing. That is the most important element for any writer. I also think social media is crucial (in some manner, we could debate the details for months). So, promotion – which authors were consumed with before ebooks anyway.

How might sales figures differ from an original vs. a re-released book?

Well, I’ve just released my first backlist title about three weeks ago, so I’m really new to this process! But I’ve seen sales figures already (which would be laughable in the old system) and the income is coming directly to me. I have CONTROL. Which we never had before.

In addition to re-releasing backlist titles, do you plan to continue to grow your name by writing new books?

Yes! I’m working on a contemporary series. The first part, a novella TRUE FATE, will be out in April. And the much-requested final novel in the TIDES series, TIDES OF DESIRE, is coming this summer.

What are some tips for increasing backlist sales?

Connect with readers: Goodreads, Twitter, Facebook. The norm. I also am blogging and trying to connect. I love the genre. I’m a HUGE reader, too, so this isn’t terribly difficult.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

http://www.tracysumner.com
facebook.com/TracySumnerRomanceAuthor
@SumnerTracy
Tides of Passion: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005WVPFH0

Tracy’s story telling career began when she picked up a copy of LaVyrle Spencer’s Vows on a college beach trip. A journalism degree and a thousand romance novels later, she decided to try her hand at writing a southern version of the perfect love story. With a great deal of luck and more than a bit of perseverance, she sold her first novel to Kensington Publishing.

When not writing sensual stories featuring complex characters and lush settings, Tracy can be found reading romance, snowboarding, watching college football and figuring out how she can get to 100 countries before she kicks (which is a more difficult endeavor than it used to be with her four-year-old son in tow). She lives in the south, but after spending a few years in “the city”, considers herself a New Yorker at heart.

Tracy has been awarded the National Reader’s Choice, the Write Touch and the Beacon – with finalist nominations in the HOLT Medallion, Heart of Romance, Rising Stars and Reader’s Choice. Her books have been translated into German, Dutch, Portuguese and Spanish. She loves hearing from readers about why she tends to pit her hero and heroine against each other and that great novel she simply must order in five seconds on her Kindle.

Ciao!

Posted in Books | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

Blue Maneuver-Chapter Three

Chapter Three

I jerked awake and the world started its mad tango. Again. Cotton batting shrouded my thoughts while stray memories struggled to poke through. This wasn’t quite the do-over I’d imagined, especially if it cost my meeting with Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Latino. Light colored my eyelids pink right before the air conditioning unit kicked on. Cold air washed over me and mingled with the scent of cat litter.
Happiness trickled through my confusion. So I wasn’t in the park and Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Latino had carried me home.
Behind me, a cat meowed.
Relief relaxed the tension biting into my shoulders. That’s right. I’d been in Vivian’s apartment to feed her cat. My tongue slipped over the fuzz coating my teeth and I swallowed the sourness in my mouth. I’d given the darn cat the bottled water and had walked to the door when…
Silence rang inside my head.
Oh snap. I must have passed out again. Now, I’d have to visit the doctor. Mentally I tried to tabulate my savings but the gauzy swirl spit random numbers at me. Hoping to still the whirling, I reached up to grasp my head.
Except my hands didn’t move.
What the heck? Opening my eyes, I glanced down. Bands of blue light bound my wrists to the arms of the cane back chair. What in the world? I blinked. Nope, still bands of light. I tried to lift my hand. Nothing doing. Fear coiled low in my stomach. Leaning forward, I noticed similar manacles chained my legs to the front of the Vivian’s dining room chair. This was not good.
Vivian would be mad at the abuse of her antique furniture. A chill wormed down my spine. The heck with Vivian. How had I gotten here? And where had these light thingies come from?
“Ah, you’re awake.” Low and throaty, the man’s voice resembled a growl more than civilized speech. Movement whispered behind me.
Oh, God no! The hair on my neck pricked. Instinct drove my knees together despite my bound ankles. A shadow drifted across the wedge of light seeping through the thin part in the curtains. How had this happened? I was normally so careful. I turned my head. Bile rose in my throat, choking me.
“You can’t pass out. We haven’t had any fun yet.” One large hand cupped the back of my head as he walked to the front of my chair.
His hold was firm but gentle. Maybe he didn’t plan to harm me. Idiot. He’d fixed me to a chair like a photo in a scrapbook. Whatever he was up to couldn’t be good. I jerked on my left hand. The motion transmitted through the wood and into my body but those funky light cuffs didn’t give an inch.
He grasped my chin and turned my head toward him. Green eyes stared at me.
Ah shit! I flinched at the mental cursing. Who cared about a swear jar contribution? Mr. Parks and Rec Supervillian made no attempt to disguise his identity. Yet hope bubbled up at the clear maroon firebird embroidered on his breast pocket.
Maybe he wasn’t here to rape me.
Maybe he was here about some mischief my parents had gotten into. Heaven knew their protests for the cause of the day always accompanied a lecture on Big Brother’s ubiquitous oversight and the length of its evil tendrils. It also explained the light manacles. The government hoarded its technology and made up lame excuses to keep their secrets—things like Sasquatch, the Jersey Devil, and alien abductions. I tried to move my wrist. My belief had become incontrovertible fact.
Now I just had to remember the details and I’d start with my kidnapper. His blond hair was cut with military precision around his high forehead. A bump on his otherwise straight nose indicated a break in the past. Deep grooves bracketed his lips already thinned in disapproval.
He raised a fist.
I flinched and jerked back. Then again, maybe I had been right the first time. Instead of trying to contain the vomit chugging up my throat, I aimed for his face. The sad little lump of bile landed on my tongue. Fudge bunnies! How was I supposed to make myself unappealing if I couldn’t even throw up properly?
“Relax.” He pinched my chin tightly and tugged my head forward a bit then he opened his fist. A silver, triangular keychain fob rested against his palm. Nestled in a bed of filigree, a fiery opal winked in the kitchen light.
Rape or Big Brother interrogation? Neither would be pleasant. I locked my bones against a shiver of fear. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me squirm. Not yet anyway. Surely someone had seen him sneak inside and there was always Mrs. Roberts. The old snoop was bound to notice I hadn’t come out of Vivian’s apartment. All I had to do was bide my time until help arrived.
His lips twitched. “Decided to cooperate, have you? Good. This shouldn’t hurt. Much.”
Green light shot from the opal and washed over my forehead. The James Bond gadget confirmed it. I was in for an interrogation by a government douche. Would I survive it? Or would I end up as one of those losers who screamed alien abductions?
“What do you care?” And just exactly what did the green flashlight do? A frigid cold burned across my forehead. Tears pricked my eyes. I hissed through the pain and my breath fogged the air. Crap on a cracker! Even the battle of the punk metal bands seemed to fade before this torture.
Crouching before me, my abductor shifted his weight but his attention remained riveted on my forehead. In the jade light, he resembled a goblin. Or an ogre. Repulsive creatures both. Maybe I wouldn’t be left with alien delusions after the G-douche finished his experiments. Maybe he’d brainwash me into believing this was some sort of demonic encounter.
“Your repeated incapacitations interfere with me finishing my mission.”
“Mission?” I snorted then waited for the cranial payback. Nothing. Even the racket had faded. Maybe my head was so numb I couldn’t feel anything anymore. But what about the skullquakes? I ignored the questions and confusion. That could wait until he was gone. Hopefully in jail with a fellow named Bubba that wanted to give him a proctology exam. Too bad his buddies in the government would spring him. Still, he didn’t need to know that I was on to him. “Is that what they’re calling kidnap and rape these days?”
He blinked then his green eyes lasered onto mine.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. Egging him on wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done in this century. Yet I couldn’t seem to stop myself. He was undermining my civil liberties. I’d been to the protests, read the literature my parents had gotten.
Of course, Mr. Parks and Rec had picked me for his experiment because of my free-thinking parents.
Taking a deep breath, I boxed up my anger. My situation called for a calm rational approach. So what could I do? My self-defense classes told me to be cooperative until I could find a way to escape. I mentally reset my brain. If I played docile maybe he’d untie me. I had a better chance of escaping.
Unfortunately, my personality seemed entrenched in stubborn and willful.
His eyes narrowed for a moment and a muscle flashed in his clenched jaw. The green light clicked off exposing the red suffusing his high cheekbones. “Just what nonsense has Konstantin filled your head with?”
Konstantin? The name bounced off the silence. I thought my parents had hooked-up with Moonbeam Hartsucker or some such nonsense. Another thing to worry about. Later. Much later.
“I don’t need Konstantin or anyone else to tell me what happens when a low-life scum-sucking toilet-feeder breaks into my apartment and ties me to a chair.”
A flush stained his cheeks before his teeth dug into his bottom lip and he glanced down. With exaggerated care, he set his key fob atop the gold placemat on the dining room table. A devilish light blazed in his green eyes as his attention switched back to me. Smirking, he cupped my knees.
I pressed my thighs together until my muscles trembled. Good Grief. What had my big mouth gotten me into?
His calloused palms rasped along my kneecaps before inching up my thighs.
I stopped breathing. The silken touch shot an arrow of pleasure straight to my core. Holy Toledo! Had the knock on the head screwed up my morality or had I been mesmerized by the funky green light?
His blunt fingertips dug into the soft skin of my inner thigh and pried my legs apart. Before I could snap them closed again, he surged forward and wedged his hips between my knees. His face was so close he brushed the tip of his nose against mine. Releasing my legs, he tilted my face up with one hand. The other traced my jaw, trailed down my throat and teased the cleavage created by my sports bra.
I inhaled a shaky breath as my body temperature spiked. Definitely some sort of mind control. No doubt developed by the CIA and given to the city employees to test on unsuspecting civilians.
“What happens to a beautiful woman tied to a chair?” He leaned in close to my ear and his warm breath cascaded down my neck.
I licked my dry lips. Shouldn’t I be doing something to put off his attack? No. No. I was supposed to cooperate to get released from my restraints. My body tingled where it brushed against his. Parts of me might be a little too cooperative. “Nothing good.”
“Pity,” he whispered before easing back. “I’m exceptionally good at whatever I put my mind to.”
Then he smiled. The corners of his eyes crinkled and his lips parted to reveal even white teeth.
So the douche bag amused himself by exploiting my fear. Or had he figured out I was on to his government mind games. Anger pulsed in my blood. My hands curled into fists and my bonds cut into my forearms. Just let him come near me again. I’d bite off his nose and spit it back at him. “There’s nothing good about you. You’re the villain of the piece.”
“Not me, obecht.” Releasing me, he dug into his front pocket and pulled out an MP4 player. The three-by-four inch display remained black as he set it on the table. “You’re the one who’s on the wrong side.”
“Obecht?” The word resonated in my memory. Foreboding squatted in my stomach like a lead toad. Mr. Tall, Dark and Latino had called me that.
Could my actions and not my parents’ be the cause of Big Brother’s surveillance? Nonsense. I’d become a model citizen since graduating from UC Berkley.
And the statute of limitation should have expired on anything I did before that.
My blond kidnapper tugged his cell phone out of his back pocket and set it next to the MP4 player. “Obecht means baby—spoiled brat and unbelievably helpless in your case. Konstantin doesn’t choose any other type.”
I stiffened at the derogatory description. I was neither helpless nor spoiled. Okay, maybe I was a little too trusting and naive. He didn’t know that and I refused to give him the satisfaction of learning his words stung like pebbles—really tiny and insignificant pebbles.
I raised my chin and forced all the contempt I felt for him into my glare. That’s twice he’s tossed a man’s name around like it was a mutual acquaintance. Maybe if I knew who he was talking about, I could convince him to release me. Or formulate a good story. I wouldn’t tell the G-douche anything. In that I was my parents’ daughter.
“Who on Earth is Konstantin?”
My kidnapper patted his shirt pockets before pulling out a slim brass pen. He clicked the top once and the ballpoint emerged. Another click and it disappeared. The pen joined the other stuff on the dining room table.
“Victor Konstantin. Thirty-five years old. Six foot two. Black hair. Blue eyes.”
Oh God, no! I closed my eyes and immediately Mr. Tall, Dark and-Latino’s face popped up. This was my fault. But that didn’t mean he was the villain. No, absolutely not, Parks and Rec was the bad guy here. He’d broken into Vivian’s apartment, tied me up and laughed at my fears.
“Konstantin hides behind females. Without fail, he finds one and gets her to cover for him. Same story, different city. There’s one on every planet. Did you think you were special, obecht?”
“Stop calling me that. I am not a child.” But I’d been a fool over men before. Made a complete idiot of myself on occasion. I opened my eyes and stared beyond my kidnapper’s broad shoulders. I didn’t believe it. I refused to believe it. Mr. Tall, Dark and Latino deserved the chance to defend himself. If he was this Victor Konstantin.
My kidnapper tugged on my tee-shirt. The ribbing on the vee-neck stretched until he hooked the fabric against my upper arm and exposed my right shoulder and a red welt just above the swell of my breast. “No. You’re not a child.”
His thumb swept over the raised spot.
Pain radiated up my neck to thunder inside my skull. Tingles needled my right arm. I sucked air through my teeth. Holy Toledo! That hurt. “What did you do?”
My kidnapper cleared his throat and slid the rectangular MP4 player toward him. “What Konstantin might have neglected to tell you is that he’s also a mercenary. Sure, he claims to be loyal to the Astral Presidium, but don’t delude yourself. He happily kills for the one with the most money. And he’s good—very, very good. Fortunately, I’m better.”
Mr. Parks and Rec flipped open the top of his MP4 player. Gold circles glittered against the shallow black case.
At killing or something else? I swallowed despite my dry mouth. If that wasn’t an MP4 player, what was the phone and pen? And what did they do?
He stabbed a finger into the dots. One clung to his skin when he pulled back. He rolled it between his thumb and index finger before placing it on the red welt.
My heart rate kicked up three notches and my blood heated to a low simmer. Son of a monkey’s butt! What was he doing? The question bounced on my tongue but I couldn’t utter it out loud. Finding out might be worse than wondering.
“You’re not too bad at this spy game.” He eased my shirt back on my right shoulder before exposing the skin on the left. Another dot mirrored the first. “I bought the act the first time, obecht. You played the part well, running away and falling to damage yourself. Unfortunately for you, I had to return for Pescal’s datapad and saw you and Konstantin. Together.”
Mr. Parks and Rec’s lips hung down at the corners. Reaching over my leg, he ran his thumb down the dark display of his fake MP4 player. No sooner had he pulled his hand back than a cone of blue light shot out of the display. Wavy symbols scrolled through the air until they reached six inches above the surface, then they disappeared.
“It’s a hologram.” A pocket hologram. When had they invented such a thing? Right after the mind controlling device silly. Crap on a cracker! My parents’ information didn’t even come close to the truth. Wait until I tell them.
If I remembered this. Usually Big Brother covered the missing time with other explanations, all of which put into doubt the victim’s credibility. Oh, he was clever. And I’d gnaw off my arm before I said so.
“You won’t get away with this you know.” Only my restrained arms prevented me from smacking myself upside the head. I should have been able to come up with a better retort than that. Perhaps his mind-controlling device had an obedience sub-routine. I definitely felt the affects of something. Heat flamed across my skin and a chill sunk into my bones.
Vivian’s cat padded across the carpet to leap onto the table. He plopped his oversized fuzzy butt onto the table and stared at me.
Fat lot of help you are. I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at the cat.
Ignoring my comment, he focused on the MP4 player. The words weak signal flashed on the hologram.
Weak signal? Did that mean he’d leave to get fresh batteries?
He tapped the display but the message remained the same. Muttering under his breath, he speared another circle on his finger. “Why did you injure yourself? Even Konstantin knows bashing in your head won’t prevent me from getting the information I want.”
I pressed against the back of my chair. He talked of smashing my skull a little too casually. Rising up on his knees, he eased forward, forcing my thighs farther apart. My stomach clenched as the denim rubbed the sensitive skin.
“You’re not going to get any information from me.” My muscles twitched with the need to cross my arms. The stupid light manacles held me in place. “Besides, I didn’t trip and bang my head on purpose.”
Perhaps I could use his paternal attitude to my advantage. That was if his brainwashing hadn’t usurped my free will. I didn’t exactly feel like he controlled me, but then I didn’t know that I would. After all, I hadn’t been brainwashed before.
At least, I didn’t think I had.
He combed my hair over to the left and touched a gold circle to the back of my neck. “It did add authenticity to your act. But playtime is over.” He taped my illuminated handcuffs. “Restrained, you can’t invent any other ways to harm yourself and prevent me from completing my mission.”
Mission. Konstantin. I had dots but no way to connect them. What did one have to do with the other? And how did I fit into the picture? Nowhere. I was innocent. I just had to convince him of that. “If you think I’m mixed up in something, you’re not just a sandwich short of a picnic. You’ve forgotten the whole dang food basket.”
He eased back and fished out another circle. His lips twitched.
Maybe I should have spent a little time formulating a better argument.
Before I could think of one, he added another circle to the other side of my neck.
Spears of pain lanced my head. Son of a monkey’s butt! My eyeballs rattled inside their sockets just as my teeth started to chatter. “Wh-what are you doing to me?”
His blurry figure moved over the table. The blue hologram blinked out then images materialized.
The blurry pictures looked like people. But despite squinting, I couldn’t tell for sure. My eyes refused to focus and the pounding in my head increased with the effort. I swear I felt each individual hair on my scalp.
“Hmm. Bad news. The Cee-Bees arrived too late to record the murder.” He raised his hand and held it over my eyes, blinding me. “Shall we begin?”
Begin what? He was already killing me. How much time did I have left before the gold dots snuffed me out? Time. Hope cut through the chills burrowing under my skin. His little show had cost him time. Maybe it was enough. Maybe help was close by.
“I have a better idea. Why don’t you leave?” My chattering teeth diluted the message but I didn’t care. Big Brother operated in the realm of reasonable deniability. Getting caught with gadgets exposed would remove that. My body warmed to the theme. “My neighbor probably heard you break-in and has already called the cops. No doubt the men in blue are approaching this apartment with guns drawn.”
Please God, let them be here soon. I held onto the hope despite the fever consuming me.
“Ms. Roberts won’t interfere.”
He knew my neighbor’s name? Of course, he did. He was the government. He also admitted to… Steel bands squeezed my chest. I jerked back and freed myself from his blindfold. Rainbow halos surrounded him, no doubt a side effect of the brainwashing. “What have you done with her?”
I may not have liked the crotchety old woman but I didn’t want her hurt or… I swallowed the lump in my throat. Don’t think about it Rae.
He set his hands on my thighs. “I think you should be more concerned with what I plan to do with you.”
Humanitarian of the year, I’m not. I had been thinking of what he planned to do with me when I mentioned Ms. Roberts and look where that got me. Still, I couldn’t give up yet and I had one friend who was far enough away to be safe. I hoped. “My roommate will be home soon.”
Mr. Parks and Rec rolled his eyes. He removed his hand from my leg and activated his screen. Vivian’s picture immediately appeared next to the Southwest flight logo. “The woman who owns this domicile will not make her connection.”
Despite the sweat trickling at my temples, I shivered. First, Ms. Roberts and now Vivian. Just my luck to get a douche bag with long, evil tentacles and the will to use them. An alien abduction looked pretty good right now. “How much blood do you have on your hands?”
“As much as it takes to complete my mission.” He glanced at his hands before switching his attention on the hologram.
Right. The mission. That still didn’t explain how I fit into the picture. On the hologram, a shadowy male stood next to a truck. Darkness obscured most of the details but it looked eerily familiar. My scalp tightened seconds before pins and needles blanketed my head. “You have the wrong person.”
He cleared his throat, picked up his Smartphone before running his thumb down the screen. “MaryJane Radiance Hemplewhite, born to Susan Glenda Schmidt and George James Hemplewhite. Your parents never married. You were homeschooled as it suited your parents’ nomadic and anti-authority lifestyle. Each of you has criminal records for various misdemeanors. You have one cousin, Thomas Edward Schmidt in Indiana, who has no ties to your unorthodox family.”
He could leave my family out of this. “Who the heck are you to judge our legitimate expression of our civil right?”
“Tobias Werner. UED.” He tossed the cell back on the table.
“Wow, Tobias Werner, UED.” I repeated his name and rank. Maybe it would survive the brainwashing. “I thought government douche bags would be given numbers instead of names.”
Tobias stood up and strolled behind my chair. With a grunt, he lifted me up and turned me to face the table. Next, he moved the hologram closer to me. “What was your part in Pescal’s murder?”
The image shifted to a silhouette of a man pulling weeds and exposing… The hair on my neck rose. Holy Toledo! I remember this. “I remember this exactly.”
“That’s because it is your memory.” With a sigh, he leaned over the table and tapped the MP4 player’s faceplate. The hologram froze on the body. Tobias poked his fingers through the display before moving his hands apart. The dead man’s face filled the image. “This is Pescal.”
The blue lips, the unblinking eyes and the still, flat nostrils. “Oh my God! The body was real. But how did the log get there?”
Was that proof I’d been brainwashed before? No. Mr. Tall, Dark and Latino hadn’t seen it. But maybe he was part of the conspiracy. Maybe he was Konstantin. But they were on separate teams. Of course, Tobias Werner UED could have lied.
“I put the log there so you’d think you’d tripped over it.”
And I had. But his actions made no sense. I was alone with him in a deserted park. Why would he let me go only to come after me later? Frustration clawed at my control. Obviously, I was missing pieces to give me a clearer picture. “Why would you do such a thing?”
He shrugged. “At the time, I thought you were innocent.”
“I am innocent.” I jerked my head toward the hologram. “I could hardly have killed the man if I’d just discovered his body. Actually, you discovered the body. Where is the body?”
As expected he ignored my questions to lob one of his own. “What is Konstantin’s plan?”
“I don’t know any Konstantin.” But I might. Tobias just hadn’t given me anything to prove it one way or the other. I’d been damned if I’d hand over an innocent person for interrogation.
And if Mr. Tall, Dark and Latino wasn’t innocent?
Hush. That’s the brainwashing talking.
Tobias sighed while his fingers danced over the MP4 player’s screen. The hologram morphed into whirlwinds of color. It stopped with a lurch.
Mr. Tall, Dark and Latino’s face stared back at me. Well damn.
“Victor Konstantin is recorded in your memories. It will condemn you in any court.”
I snorted. Like Big Brother ever brought witnesses in to testify. “Then my memories will show he never introduced himself, that we have no relationship and that I only know him as Mr. Tall, Dark and Latino. Case dismissed.”
I raised my chin. Let Tobias Werner UED put that in his pipe and suffocate on the smoke.
His eyes narrowed for a moment. “Victor Konstantin is not Latino and I am taller.”
I wanted to kick him. The douche completely ignored the fact that I was innocent.
“And if you and Konstantin aren’t involved why have you staked out the park for the last week?”
Embarrassment added to the heat engulfing my body. Good heavens. He made it sound as if I stalked the man.
He smirked. No doubt the knucklehead had misinterpreted my blush. “UED records indicate that you’ve lived in the neighborhood for more than two years and have never visited the park before. Yet on the very day when UED’s latest WitSec steward is murdered, you appear and appropriate his Cee-Bees.”
All this for ham radios? Blackness circled the rainbows surrounding my vision. I didn’t let that stop me from glaring at him. Unfortunately, I think the shakes vibrating my body undermined the effect. Either the knock on the head or the brainwashing had made me sick. I wanted nothing more than my bed and warm blankets.
And I was willing to admit to being a total loser to get it.
“I wasn’t at the park to meet Mr. Tall, D… to meet Victor Konstantin. I was there to get exercise, but my stupid personal trainer never showed.”
Tobias’s forehead wrinkled and his lips compressed as if he had swallowed something nasty.
I shrugged. So my confession didn’t exactly earn me brownie points. All I wanted was to go home and sleep.
“I had nothing to do with any murder or stealing.” I shifted on the hard wooden chair and leaned toward him. “Search this place if you don’t believe me. I don’t have your precious Citizen’s Band radio.”
He smiled.
I doubted it was from humor. In fact, I’d bet the rest of my savings that Red Riding Hood’s grandmother had seen that smile right before the Big Bad Wolf ate her.
“Yes. You do.” With a tap of his fingers, the hologram burped an image of three blue lights.
A memory shimmered to the fore. Aw snap. The lightning bugs spazzing on pixie dust. Arching my back I glanced down at my chest where the first one had hit. Where I had a welt and Tobias had given me a gold dot as a stripper’s pasty.
He obligingly held out my shirt to give me a clear view.
Definitely a douche. “You mean these Cee-Bee things are inside me?” I inhaled then my nose started to tingle and itch. Oh no. “They’re making me sick.”
“The cerebral bots, or Cee-Bees, cause an infection-like response while they’re incorporating.” He flashed his pointy canine teeth. “Obviously the Cee-Bees were not part of Konstantin’s plan.”
Plan. Schman. I shifted on the seat while my manacled arms twitched. The light bands dug into my skin. I yanked harder. I needed a doctor, antibiotics, and a blood transfusion.
Tobias crossed his arms and smirked down at me.
That was real helpful. Not! I jerked my body up and twisted. The chair hopped on the tile with a loud click and angled toward him. “Get them out of me!”
He shrugged, uncrossed his arms and reached for the fake MP4 player. “Right now the Cee-Bees are merging with every cell in your body and integrating their operating code into your DNA.”
The hologram fell dark and he snapped the gold circle filled bottom to the back of the display.
He couldn’t be packing up and leaving. Not after casually announcing he had infected me.
“No.” The chair’s legs screeched against the tile as I hopped sideways toward him. My muscles jiggled and my joints creaked but I didn’t care. He wasn’t going to leave me like this. “No. I won’t allow it. You put them in me; you need to get them out. Out, out Spam dots!”
I flinched at my father’s favorite interpretation of Shakespeare.
His mouth turned down at the corners. And for a moment, his blond eyebrows met in a vee above his nose. Clearing his throat, he turned away and tucked the MP4 player in his back pocket. “Can’t.”
“Yes. You can.” I’d become his personal cheerleader if he’d change his mind. I really needed him to change his mind. I sniffed up the unmentionables tickling my nose. I’d had a cold like this only once before and I’d ended up in the hospital for three weeks. This time I didn’t have insurance. “You created the Spam dots. You get them out or turn them off. Surely the fancy pen or cell phone can do that.”
I jerked my head toward the brass pen. He hadn’t used that yet. Surely Big Brother had a cure for something they created. Unless… Oh God. I stopped moving my chair. Unless they sterilized the infected.
“UED didn’t create the Cee-Bees. We stumbled across them on our first contact.” Tobias set his cold hand on mine. “As far as we know, they created themselves and keep on making more of themselves, improving and adapting with each generation. Although we’ve used them for nearly a thousand years, we have yet to understand how the Cee-Bees work.”
He lifted his hand and wiped it on his jeans.
First contact. A thousand years. Had the Spam dots effected my hearing now? Was I beyond curing? Tears stung my eyes. My fever disappeared under a wave of chills. “I don’t understand.”
“I know, obecht.” He tucked the pen into his shirt pocket, right above the city logo. “And maybe we could have left you alone but now that you’ve become involved with Konstantin…”
“I’m not involved with him!” My voice became hoarse as a dozen frogs played Cirque du Soliel with my vocal cords. Geez, if Mr. Tall, Dark and Latino stood between me and the cure… “I’ll give him up, swear off men, join a convent or take a vow of celibacy. Just don’t let those things kill me.”
Silently, he picked up his cell. He tilted his head to the right while turning the Smartphone round and round in his hand. “I’ve never heard of the Cee-Bee’s killing anyone.”
I collapsed against the chair’s wooden slats. Praise Buddha. I was going to live. My internal celebration died a quick death. Tobias didn’t actually seem filled with warm and fuzzy thoughts at the news. What was he not telling me? “But?”
“Given your association with Konstantin, UED cannot allow you to carry the Cee-Bees.” The screen of his phone lit up. He glanced at the name and ran his fingers through his short hair.
I sniffed. And that got him upset? Seemed like a win-win situation to me. “So they’ll remove the Spam dots and I’ll be okay.”
“The Cee-Bees can’t be removed.” Using his thumb he accepted the call and raised the phone to his ear. “The only viable solution will be your immediate termination.”
Blue Maneuver available now:

Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Smashwords

Posted in Books | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Happy President’s Day (US)

Happy President’s Day to everyone in the US. I’m avoiding political commentary and just saying we’ve had some really great presidents. But since it is a day off, I’m not posting a blog. So there:P

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment