Tag Archives: LinkedIn

Smashwords affiliates get 25% of Thea Reads. See how.

Last month, I started taking a better peek at my traffic on Smashwords. What is Smashwords, some of you might ask? Well, dear reader, it’s a nice little retailer/distributor of ebooks that will let you download ebooks in any format you require. Sometimes authors offer free reads via coupons, and sometimes a hefty percent off. If you’re an author, you can upload your ebook for sale at Smashwords and have them distribute to a large amount of ebook retailers.

Smashwords has a lot of perks but as an author, I’ve been ignoring it in favor of letting it distribute my books to places like Itunes and Sony. As I started noticing that I was getting a few views of my books over there, I began to wonder why they rarely SOLD there.

So. I thought I’d offer affiliates of Smashwords the opportunity to pick up 25% of my royalties instead of the standard 11%. If you’re a Smashword affiliate that means you get 25% of the booty when one of your visitors buys a Thea read from a link on your site.

I just set the affiliate setting to 40% this morning, so come February, those links will earn affiliates 40% instead of 25%.

(For info on the affiliates program at Smashwords, click the link.)

How do you get this 25%? Easy. Just sign up for the affiliate program at SW then provide an affiliate link on your blog or website to my Smashwords page or to individual Thea reads over there.

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Show me yours and I’ll show you mine.

Been a while. I know. I know.

I’ve been off my schedule for months now. (RIP big brother) I did promise to attempt to become more regular on my blog, so since it’s January, here tis. My first of the year installment.

TADA!

I write to keep my sanity at times, and at times….well, to lose it. You know how it is. So to ease in to the new year of blogging, I thought I’d offer other writers a lil something to help spread their words.

I’ll post a short sample of my new WIP, and you can post a short sample of yours in the comments with a link to your own blog so we can visit, comment, or see more writing.

How’s that?

Short and sweet now, cause they won’t fit in the comments otherwise. wink.

I’m writing a new novella: Sons of Alkaia. It’s an installment in the Water Witch series and picks up after Theron’s Taless, but before Water Witch. I’m having fun with it.

Remember: this is first raw vulnerable draft, my pretties.

sons of alkaia v2Sons of Alkaia

The wolves smelled the milk and womb blood on her–and they came. Alkaia heard them snuffling at the perimeter of the darkness where the firelight couldn’t reach. It had taken her far too long to tinder that pitiful flame that separated her from the night and she’d protected it like she’d protected nothing in her life before.

Except for the man, she reminded herself, and then quickly threw ash on the light of that memory. Truth was, she was here now. Exiled from her people and her land. Alone in the night with a paltry flame. No. Not alone. The babe mewled from the spot where she’d left it, close enough to the fire that the predators wouldn’t dare make for it, and far enough away that the sparks wouldn’t land and catch his swaddling fur afire.

She supposed the wolves heard its piteous cry as well. More reason to come stalking a warrior in the night when they thought her vulnerable. Alkaia considered leaving the squalling thing where it lay, taking a stick with a good burning end off into the darkness and making camp elsewhere. Leave the wretched child to the wolves. But the bare truth of it was there were too many beasts in the pine forest to be sated by a newborn male. They’d come for her afterwards, their appetites piqued by the flavor of tender meat and newborn milk.

Subscribe to my newsletter Thea Reads for goodies, freebies, and news, but never spam. Never.

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It’s coming… and I have E-ARCs up for grabs

Yup. I’ve been neglecting my blog. But I have a very good excuse. Well a couple of them. One is too personal to speak of in detail (RIP, big brother) and the other is because I’ve been writing.

This last year I completed two novels, a few short stories, and a novella. I’ve also begun the third novel in the Elemental Magic series: Bone Witch.

If you’ve been following the series at all, you know I’m working on a shorter, parallel series that takes peripheral characters and follows their stories. These offer backstory to Alaysha’s tale, and I’m having tons of fun with them. And the novella Theron’s Tale is very nearly ready.

But first I’d like to offer a few electronic ARCs to a few readers who might be inclined to either review or blog the book for me.

Any takers?

No?

Not sure?

Yes, maybe?

How about a small taste to help you decide, and when you do, just shoot me a comment with your email and the format you require.

Meantime…enjoy

Theron’s Tale: a novella

“The first conqueror came the day I received my first tattau. My skin at the lowest rib stung like it had been scraped raw and doused with fermented balsam gum, and I suppose it had when you come to think about it. I knew the outline of the first symbol meant clay – our word for the dirt beneath our feet and the soil we’d been formed from, the earth that sustained us. It was the most important symbol of the magic that would be created over the seasons and I knew the outline was as crimson at the edges as the ashes that filled it in had been black.”

Theron looked down at his feet, imagining again the henna on his toenails, pretending the veins that stood out so blue against his skin were trails of decorative woad tracing his instep in preparation for a sacred ceremony. He closed his eyes and tried desperately to imagine the woman those things had been done for. The nights they spent together. The seasons they lived with each other.

The sting of leather seared against his back and he sagged forward. He had forgotten for a moment, one blessed moment, that his hands were bound above him, that the trickling of water against the stone here inside his own sacred mountain was not there to quench his thirst as it normally would. It was good that his memories could still be as vivid, could still take him away. He needed that. Hanging like venison ready to be stripped of its skin, he knew he would need the memories before this was all over.

He did his best to lift his gaze to the arrogant youth in front of him and managed to just hold his head aloft for a few seconds before it fell and his glance went once again to his toes. “You wanted the whole story,” he said to Yuri. “I’m trying to give it to you.”

There was a shuffling sound, one that Theron imagined was Yuri easing closer. He heard the unmistakable gravel of Yuri’s voice even before he felt the man’s fingers in his hair, yanking his head upward so that he had to stare straight into the ice colored eyes of the savage.

“Your idea of the whole story and mine are different, old man.”

Theron gave him a tremoring smile. “Nevertheless, it’s my story you asked for.”

He could smell the cactus wine on Yuri’s breath. The onions he’d had for supper. So the pup hadn’t come as far from the bitch’s lair as he thought– he kept some of those familiar things cloaked about him like old bits of flax thread. Theron couldn’t help a short chuckle.

“What do you find so humorous, old man?”

Theron’s scalp hurt, his skin was on fire, the ribs beneath his tattaus made breathing difficult. They were broken, no doubt.

“You denounce your mother, and yet you carry all of her habits into your new land.”

“What does my mother have to do with any of this?”

Theron tried to shrug but the burning in his armpits kept his muscles from moving. “Without your mother, there would be no tale to tell.”

Yuri grunted. His nod to the shadow and the hulking form that cast it from some place behind Theron meant Yuri’s handler had stepped away. He would be okay for a few moments, then. As long as he kept talking, the pain wouldn’t get worse. Maybe it wouldn’t even come again for a while.

“That first tattau only heightened my already blossoming pride,” Theron murmured. His feet twitched, a cramp taking the middle of his sole and he grimaced, trying to stretch it out, to feel the muscles lengthen. When they wouldn’t he decided the best focus was distraction. He made himself concentrate on the story, the thoughts coming in a rush at first as the cramps pulled at his fibers, then slower as it eased.

He made himself think again of that day, how even in the shadow of the great beasts, those women who straddled them, so large, their legs hung down past their mounts bellies, he’d spit at them all, thinking his contempt could make them go away.

“My pride,” he said aloud. “Always my undoing. I collected all the water I could in my mouth and let fly at the largest, the one in front. The one with pale skin and obsidian hair.”

Yuri spoke and startled him. “I know who you mean.”

Theron nodded. “Indeed you do. Your mother. She was huge, so huge that even the beast she rode looked too small to carry her as she spurred it forward to look down at me. I could see nothing but contempt in her face for my arrogance.

“Even still, I could feel the power of my mark beginning to swell within me, the power given me by my temptress, and I lunged forward to kick the tender ankles of the mountain until I felt myself being lifted from my feet, still kicking–but at the air now– until I landed across that gargantuan lap with my bottom perfectly poised for a spanking.”

He thought he heard Yuri chuckle, and that was good. He didn’t mind a little mockery. It didn’t hurt quite so much as the things the handler did. He was encouraged.

“A man doesn’t receive a punitive spanking from a woman, and at ten seasons, with the initial symbol that bound me inexorably to my temptress, I was most assuredly a man even if my size and my number of seasons begged a girl to believe otherwise.

Theron thought back to the moment. He could see again the massiveness of the woman, the feel of her skin against his. His sense of rage as he twisted and snaked about her grasp, how she chuckled at first then roared straight out at his impotence. He felt again his face burning with rage, how his voice box choked off the words in a fury so volatile he could’ve chewed leather to ragged skin.

It wasn’t a pleasant memory. But those things couldn’t be changed now. He sighed.

“She slapped me cold,” he said and was surprised to hear thoughtfulness in his voice. “Pain rose to my throat and forced any words stuck there to come out in an anguished cry.”

Yuri nodded. “She has large hands,” he mused.

“Yes.”

“Still. What is coming of this, old man?”

“To take you this far back, even though you think it’s extraneous, is still not far back enough. I’m assuming you know of our history, my tribe. To begin the tale at the time of the first conqueror and not explain how crucial this moment was to our culture is to expect you to understand what that culture is. You couldn’t know it. You only know what you saw little by little over the few years you came. But it’s important to see, because that message means I’ve jumped to the parts that concern me, being the vain man that I am, even in this my doddering season.”

Yuri’s voice took on an accusing tone, one that Theron thought he’d have to quickly placate. “You might want me to think your doddering, old man. But I know better.”

Theron tried to shrug again, to make the claim seem insignificant. Pain sliced down his back. Yes. Definitely a few broken ribs. “Our tribe is one of four clans that eons ago went to war and had to be physically separated from each other in order to keep ourselves intact at all. That was as much as I knew then, and it was part of the ritual that tapped the ashes into my mark so that I could be closer to my temptress than any other being. More, I learned later as each symbol became part of my skin, but on that day, I knew that my temptress, the temptress of clay as we called her, had been granted the full story of the war as part of her symbols and tattaus. She was one of four, descended from a great temptress who split the very earth we roamed in order to keep the clans apart – and to keep us from killing each other.”

“I know the power,” Yuri said.

“Indeed you do,” Theron said. “But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. That’s the least of the tale, although you think it the most important.”

“Her mother was a temptress, and her mother before her, all first born women granted power to use the soil so long as it was also protected by her. My temptress–witch–in your language–was five years older than I, and I, just that day, had vowed to be her Arm in all she did and needed. I grit my teeth as the bone needle bit into my skin over and over, taking short breaths each time she dipped her marker into the ink made with the ashes of her grandmother’s bones. I took her flesh into my own and became her tool to protect her if needed. More than that I wasn’t to know on that day, but I knew that she had chosen me above the many much more physically suited.”

“You loved her for that,” Yuri guessed, and Theron heard a note of scorn in the man’s tone. It didn’t surprise him; men such as Yuri, young as he was, invincible as he was, could never imagine embracing the vulnerability love can bring.

“So now you know the importance of that in my mind, and how it had been sullied by the appearance of the largest of women I’d ever seen, of the massive mounts they rode, who pitched their beasts side by each at our border and declared our land their own. As I lay across the leader’s lap, willing the tears to retreat, I made myself stare at the ancestral mountain we kept and I prayed to its sacredness that this truth, that we could be a conquered people, must not come to pass.”

“So much for your prayers, old man. This mountain is mine now. This mountain, this land, everything in it.”

Theron nodded. “Indeed, it is yours.” It hurt, but he forced a laugh anyway. He expected Yuri to lose his patience, to press further. He didn’t expect to feel a searing pain beneath his ear lobe. Yuri’s handler and his hot iron again. Thankfully, the trickle of water, the smell of damp earth, and the hot pain in his neck eased away and all went black, blessedly black.

 

Look for the full story on Amazon soon.

Oh my! Romance, crime fiction, and vampires all on GonzoInk with Debra Martin

I love offering guest spots to other authors, especially ones I enjoy, who I find throughout their social media presence, they are generous, positive, and supportive. Debra Martin is definitely one of those. I do hope you enjoy the character interview she has put together for GonzoInk. Her blog is a wonderful source of fiction, fun, and fantastic stuff. Go visit.

Buy on Amazon

Character Interview with Detective Lacey Gardner

The Silver Cross by Debra L Martin & David W Small

Q: What made you become a police officer?

A: Police work is in my family. Both my grandfather and father were Boston cops. I spent as much time down at the precinct with my dad as I did at our home growing up.

 Q: Isn’t being a homicide detective stressful?

A: Yes, it can be, but my goal is to solve the crime as quickly as I can. Someone needs to speak for the dead and bring some closure for the families. That’s the hardest part—watching the families suffer, but it only makes me more determined to solve the case.

Q: You’re officially listed as a detective, but you’re really a vampire hunter. How did that come about?

A: It came about by accident. My sister was attacked by a vampire, and like most people, I didn’t realize that vampires even existed. I thought they were just stuff of legends. When Captain Jack McMahan offered me a position with the Fringe Division, the division that hunted these beasts, I jumped at the chance.

 Q: You work with two male detectives. How is that?

A: Cole Henderson and Jackson Stout are two great guys. Cole is ex-military and Jackson is a former football player. If I had a choice for brothers, they would be perfect.

 Q: Do you hang out with Cole and Jackson when you’re off-duty?

A: Yes, we’re all great friends as well as working together. As a side note, I am constantly beating those guys at a game of pool and it sets up a good rivalry. It’s also a great stress reliever and we all need that after a vampire nest take-down.

 Q: You recently met Damon Harte at his bar. What did you think of him?

A: Ahh, how much time do you have? Damon is one tall, dark and handsome guy with a dangerous edge, just my type. I’m looking forward to spending some time with him and getting to know him better.

Q: Could Damon be the one?

A: That statement may be a bit premature, but I can tell you that Damon is an excellent kisser.

 Q: Thanks for taking the time to chat with us, Detective.

A: It’s been my pleasure, but I’ve got to get back out on the streets again. You know, keeping them safe for the citizens of Boston.

Buy links -

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Silver-Cross-Vampire-Nightlife-ebook/dp/B009BW6PUW
BN: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-silver-cross-debra-l-martin/1112922521

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Larry Enright guests on GonzoInk: new book release

I have a guest today: a wonderful writer who is launching a new book. I had to share it with you. I truly enjoyed the first novel: Four Years from Home and this is the sequel. I’m running right out to grab it up.

A Cape May Diamond

New release: A Cape May Diamond

Genre: Literary fiction/mystery

Appropriate for: Age 18+

 

Sequel to the best seller, Four Years from Home, A Cape May Diamond picks up the Tom Ryan story two years after its tragic ending in the discovery of the fate of Tom’s youngest brother, Harry. It is not required that you first read Four Years from Home before A Cape May Diamond, since it is recapped in brief in the first chapter of the sequel.

 

The result of a chance encounter, A Cape May Diamond can best be described as a story of life, love, and a journey of a thousand years. Here is the narrator’s perspective on it:

It was Monday, May 19th, 1975. I’ll never forget that day. The Vietnam War had ended with the fall of Saigon that April, and the world was mired in one of its worst recessions ever. Unemployment in the United States was nearly nine percent, inflation even higher, and leadership lacking. The Watergate scandal had cast a smear across American politics, resulting in Richard Nixon’s resignation in August 1974 to avoid impeachment, and his successor’s immediately pardoning him to close the book on an unhappy chapter in U.S. history.

It was not a good time for anyone and a particularly hard time for the old Victorian town of Cape May. The crown jewel of the New Jersey shore had fallen into neglect and disrepair and was dying a slow death. Once the elegant summer home to presidents and kings, it had become the last refuge of the deposed.

That’s where I met Tom Ryan. Tom was a king, or so he would have you believe, but unlike Richard Nixon, when Tom was dethroned, he wasn’t sent home with a slap on the wrist. He was sent to prison. He was a convicted draft dodger, but one of the lucky ones released early by President Ford as part of his mass clemency after Nixon’s pardon. The problem was, Tom had nowhere to go when he got out, so he took the money his dad mailed to him and spent it on a bus ticket to get as far away as possible to a place where nobody cared who he was or what he had done, a place where nobody cared about anything. That place was Cape May.

As hard a time as it was for everyone, it was harder for me because that was the day I met Tom Ryan. I should have turned and walked away. I knew it when he first looked at me, but I didn’t, not my first mistake, but one that would make Monday, May 19th, 1975 the hardest day of my life.

This is the story of how Tom Ryan and I met and how things never quite work out the way you think. You might find a love story in here somewhere. You might not. You might find a message hidden in one of the nickel pop bottles collected by the beachcombers from some of the most beautiful white sand beaches in the world. You might even find a little mystery, but life is a mystery, isn’t it?

 

About the author:

Larry Enright was born to Irish Catholic first-generation immigrants and raised in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. His works include: the best seller Four Years from Home (2010), A King in a Court of Fools (2011), Buffalo Nickel Christmas (2011), 12|21|12 (2012), and A Cape May Diamond.

 

 

It’s Alive and there’s goodies

It’s Alive!

Get it now from Amazon

I feel like Dr. Frankenstein on the night the lightning struck his creation and gave it life. Why is this you might ask?

Blood Witch is live! So far, it’s showing on Amazon and Kobo and will soon be up at BN, Sony, and Itunes! Over the last few months, I’ve pieced together as much information as I can for the series into this second book without giving away too much. Book three is already sizzling like a hotdog on a roasting stick. (OK, so the analogy sucks, but I think it’s fun because I just came home from a wonderful camping trip in the backwoods.)

If you’ve been waiting for it, the wait it over. If you’ve not read the first book in the series: Water Witch, then what are you waiting for? It’s FREE on Amazon Sept 17, 2012, (regularly priced at $2.99) There’s also a prequel story that comes free as often as I can make it, but it’s typically 99cents. Seeds of the Soul, so if you’re reading this post after Sept 17 and aren’t sure you want to try me on for 2.99, why not grab the cheapie short story?

Anywho, I’d love to hear from you as you read book 2. Please feel free to comment or leave a review. In fact, the more reviews I can get, the happier Amazon seems to be and starts to treat me less like a captive in the depths of their jungle. Reviews are good m’k?

Plus: Join the squirrel army newsletter and get news of Book three as it moves along, chances to have your say in the evolution of the book as I write it, and a few lovely little freebies along the way.

AND:

Just because I love a good party, I’m offering a bunch of freebies from Amazon on launch day (Sept 17) So go grab a few while the going’s good.

Related articles

Writing Backwards to go Forwards

Or: it’s Water Witch Wednesday

by Thea Atkinson

I know some of you are looking forward to the release, and some of you are ambivalent, but I’m pretty stoked. I’m so close to the end, it’s ca-razy.

Elemental Magic is growing, and that means if I’m to plot out 4 novels, I really had to know where I was going. The backstory of the world I was creating, the motivations of certain characters, all had to make sense. I found myself having to write backstory for the series and those backstories took (and are taking) a life of their own. I imagine I’ll have two parallel series on the go at the same time: One a series of shorts, and one a series of midlength novels.

So for those who actually are looking forward to the release of book 2, I thought I’d whet your appetite as well as give you some meat to digest.

Exclusive to Amazon

I’m offering the first of the back stories (Seeds of the Soul) for free on Aug 2 and 3, 2012. I’m posting today, mostly because the book is live, but it’s not free, and it often takes a while for folks to check their mails, blogs, and such. I thought I’d give you plenty of notice.

Besides, it’s Water Witch Wednesday, and while I can’t offer you the freebie today (Amazon won’t let me), I can at least give you the news.

Blurb:

Sometimes to save a world, you must destroy it.

The witches of Etlantium are charged with keeping the children of Liliah safe, but when an oracle accuses the ruler of seeking to destroy his own city through civil war, there is only one witch brave enough to do what must be done.

Readers of Water Witch will find this background story jammed full of historical intrigue, enchantment, and old world mythology and legends with just a dose of reincarnation theory thrown in. Seeds of the Soul is the beginning of an epic fantasy series for all ages but is recommended for those readers over 16.

So have you ever found yourself back pedalling and having to write the story that happened before your story? Do tell!

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Subscribe to my newsletter Thea Reads for goodies, freebies, and news, but never spam. Never.

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I have a guest: new book launch

Or: Thea’s too lazy to write a blog post

Today a guest post from the inspiring writer, Patricia Lynne (Website) who is launching a new book today! Huzzah! Note the gratuitous !!!s.

Enjoy and leave a comment. A Random winner will receive a copy of the ebook

Just launched!

Snapshots Blurb

My name is Cyclop Blaine and I am a real person.

“You are mine.”

I am a real person: heedless of a childhood spent under the supervision of an old man I only know as Master.

“You belong to me.”

I am a real person: regardless of my teenage years bound by violence as the adoptive son of the Victory Street Gang’s leader.

“You will obey me.”

I am a real person: despite the visions I see in others’ eyes. Snapshots of their futures.

“You will cower before me.”

I am a real person: my life will be my own. I belong to no one.

“You. Are. MINE.”

Excerpt

“Cyclop, how do you stay so skinny with all that food you eat?” Meemaw Cheryl asked. The ice in her glass clinked as she motioned to my food. Her gaze turned to the girl’s parents. “I swear this boy could eat a horse and not gain a pound.”

I ducked my head as heat rushed up my face and neck. I adjusted my hat, hoping to hide the blush.

“Always wearing that hat too. Even in church. I tell Tyler all the time, if he don’t make you take that hat off, I’m gonna whoop his behind. I did it when he was a baby and I ain’t afraid to do it now.” Meemaw pointed her glass at me again. “And then I’ll whoop yours. You don’t wear a hat in the Lord’s house.”

“God ain’t gonna care if someone is wearing a hat in church. He’s just glad the person is there,” Darryl said as he joined the group with his own food. For a moment, his gaze met mine. Guilt nipped me at the hurt in his eyes.

“Darryl Paul Blaine, don’t you sass me,” Meemaw Cheryl snapped.

“I’m not sassing you, ma’am,” he innocently replied.

“No,” Meemaw Cheryl said with mock disapproval. “You just sticking up for your brother.” Her attention turned back to the girl’s parents. “These two were thick as thieves from the moment Tyler brought Cyclop home. Found the poor boy huddled in a dumpster in the middle of winter. Barely a scrap of clothing on him. Abandoned.”

More heat crawled up my face. I kept my gaze on my food, trying to sound casual. “I wasn’t abandoned. My mas… the person caring for me died. No one wanted to take me, so they left me on a street corner.”

“You was abandoned,” Meemaw Cheryl insisted. “I pray the Lord have mercy on those cruel souls because I sure won’t show any. Don’t matter if you don’t want to; if you have to, you take your family’s child in, care for them as your own. That’s what I taught my children, and I expect them to teach theirs.”

Meemaw Cheryl’s friends voiced their agreement. By now, my face was blazing and embarrassment coursed through me like a tsunami. Some of the humiliation eased when Darryl laid a reassuring hand on my shoulder. Thankfully, conversation turned away from me. Meemaw Cheryl and her friends coaxed the girl’s parents into talking. She remained quiet as she picked at her food. Even though her plate was half full, she stood and walked back to the table. I abandoned my food and followed. My nerves tightened as I stopped next to her. Play it cool.

“Hi, I’m Cyclop.”

“I kinda figured.”

The heat returned to my face and I mentally slapped myself. Of course she knew my name. They were just talking about me!

No biggie, I assured myself. Just keep playing it cool.

“So, do you have a name?”

I was not playing it cool.

To my surprise, she laughed. “Yeah, I do. Amber Smith.”

“That’s a nice name.”

She laughed again and I mentally punched myself this time. What was wrong with me? It was no wonder she was laughing. I sounded like a complete idiot!

“It’s nothing special or unique,” she replied lightly. “Not like Cyclop. How did you get that name?” She paused, meeting my one-eyed gaze. Her gaze flickered to my hidden eye and curiosity played over her face. “Well, I can guess.”

Links to Snapshots

  About me!

Patricia Lynne never set out to become a writer. In fact, it was the farthest from her mind in high school and college. But now that she has started, she can’t stop. Patricia lives with her husband in Michigan, hopes one day to have what will resemble a small petting zoo, and has a fondness for dying her hair the colors of the rainbow.

Follow Patricia on Twitter

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If you liked this post, please do share.

Remember: Rattling Bones is FREE on Kobo and Smashwords. Grab a copy and spread the word.

Thea is the author of several novels that she considers left of mainstream. You can find her on Smashwords, BN, Kobo, Sony, Apple

Anomaly by Thea Atkinson

cover reveals and book deals

Or: it’s Water Witch Wednesday

 by Thea Atkinson

Two bits of news for you today. First the exciting to you news:

Tomorrow (July 26)  is my birthday! I can’t…or I’d rather not tell you how old I am, but I will tell you I remember rotary phones, life without an internet, and a time when Archie and Jughead were something other than tired cartoon characters.

so I’m putting a slew of my books on sale for 99cents. If you’ve ever even given a read of mine one tiny glimmer of thought, then now’s the time to scoop them up. The sale is good at Amazon and Kobo, but I’m listing the Amazon links below.

Don’t quote me, and I can’t guarantee it, but some of the links and sales might actually be ready today even though my birthday (and thus the sale) is tomorrow.

PLUS:

I’m giving a brand new short story away. If you like light, very light, literary erotica, Atlantic’s a Woman to Ride will be FREE on July 26 on Amazon. It won me first place in a competition oh so many years ago, and I thought I’d share it. Share it on Facebook, Twitter, and any ole place you like.

Now: the Second Big to me News:

I’m nearly 3/4 finished the first draft of book 2. I think I may have decided on the book title, but I’m not sure…you guys can tell me what you think based on the mockup of the cover.

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If you liked this post, please do share.

Remember: Rattling Bones is FREE on Kobo  and BN. Grab a copy and spread the word.

Thea is the author of several novels that she considers left of mainstream. You can find her on Smashwords, BN, Kobo, Sony, Apple

Anomaly by Thea Atkinson

 

 

5 things my sales graphs reveal

Or: The grand graph experiment continues

 by Thea Atkinson

OK. So you know I love me some graphs. I’ve blogged about it before. And as I blogged I started thinking about how my blog affected my sales. You know, you read the post.

Well, I got to working on a better graph, one that plotted my total sales for a day compared to my blog posts. Some astonishing things leapt out at me…especially when I plotted month by month versus overall time.

First, my overall graph.

What does it tell me?

  1. That the blog visits/posts and my sales are definitely linked somehow.
  2. That in the beginning, when I didn’t post regularly (the first section of the graph) there really was no correlation
  3. As I began to gain audience and gain some regularity, the sales seemed to echo the spikes in traffic to my blog
  4. You might not be able to tell here, but the upticks are definitely trending to just after a spike in blog visits
  5. After I gave away about 6500 copies of One Insular Tahiti, (available from Amazon, Kobo, and BN, and Itunes) my blog traffic increased. That was also right around the time I made an effort to post frequently.

The graph may tell you different things; heck, I’m not a stats analyzer and I have no idea what to do with the information except to try to build my blog audience and post regularly.

What would your graph say? Have you created one? I challenge you to compose a graph and track your traffic and sales and then write a post about it.

Stay tuned for June and July graphs!

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Thea is the author of several novels that she considers left of mainstream. You can find her on Smashwords, BN, Kobo, Sony, Apple

Anomaly by Thea Atkinson