Tuesday, September 22, 2015

A Microphone? -- Oh My!!

Last Thursday, I gave a presentation to the Women’s Discussion Group at my subdivision on my five books, mainly promoting Love For Sale and Gambler’s Choice, coming soon from TWRP. I prepared a PowerPoint presentation including a slide with the cover introducing the book and giving its genre and heat rating. The next slide contained the book video.

The ladies loved the book videos and watched intently! I created the video for Love For Sale, and an author friend did the one for Gambler’s Choice.
Now, standing in front of a group with a microphone in hand, is not my favorite activity, but it was fun, and I sold some books. Most of the ladies are over 55, and I was surprised the books that sold best were the ones I had advised were “racy”.

I think the experience was worthwhile, both in name recognition and promotion, and would like to find other venues.

What has been your experience with such presentations?

Linda Nightingale

Sunday, September 20, 2015

New Release, New Contest

A sadistic serial killer is staking fairies with iron and taking their wings. Ande Ryan is on the case as part of the Paranormal Investigation Unit. Being forced to work alongside her werewolf former lover, Cal, has made the case even more problematic. Now, she must deal with her difficult Fae half sister—who she didn’t know existed—as well as the possibility that she might have to keep the dark forces from taking over the world.

It's preorder time for Dead Fairies. So its time for a contest. Anyone who preorders Dead Fairies in the next ten days will be entered in a contest. Two people will receive swag like bookmarks, post card and a notebook. One person will also receive a signed print copy of Dead Fairies. Please comment on this post and tell me when you order.
 Would love reviews on Amazon once you read it.
 I will announce the winners , on Facebook, by Sept. 29th and you can private message me your address at that time.
 Unfortunately, the contest is for the USA only at this time.

click here

Wednesday, September 09, 2015

Scaring Readers for Halloween

The fast approaching holiday of Halloween is imminent. With the typical scares of the day, I'm introducing the more unusual side of death, that which we know little of - The Other Side. Melinda James will tell you her story, but please be forewarned that death isn't the end of things. Scarier things than ghosts and goblins walk next to us and we don't even realize it. A parallel universe is home to spirits, both good and evil. But I hear that the other side hasn't been able to contain them to just 'over there.' They're here. Are you brave enough to find out what resides here, what they can do? Will Melinda live long enough to know if love is in her future? I dare you to find out just how much paranormal experiences you can handle.

Melinda's family is dead, killed for information that is hidden deep within her mind.  Her father tries to warn her from the 'Other Side' that she is in danger from the killers who want what only she can give them.  Committed to Skyview Haven, she must determine if the 'Other Side' truly exists or if it is a trick of her heart and mind.

With time running out Melinda must determine who she can trust. Is it the ghosts of her family, a boy who may not be who he appears to be, or the doctor who is determined to cure her?  Can she figure out the truth before it is too late?

Starr Gardinier
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Friday, September 04, 2015

“Sealed with a Kiss” by Kevin V. Symmons

If that title has a vague ring of familiarity that’s no accident. It not so coincidentally bears the name of a song from the mists of my youth. And when doing this blog though it may be begging the season by a month (or more) the summer beckons in the distance as old memories flood back and come to mind and my not so hidden roots as a closet romantic beckon!

I have the good fortune to spend many summers on Massachusetts’s luxuriant Cape Cod coast. Each year the CC populace grows by ten-fold as between five and six million visitors cross one of the two aged bridges that span a man-made body of water known as the Cape Cod Canal. But in addition to being a spectacular spot of natural beauty it is also an area filled with beauty, romance, and the thrill of youth.

As a child on the south coast my experiences were physically and emotionally stimulating… things like sun and surf and often massive waves that crashed on the pristine sand. Massive at least to one who was only three feet tall. As I grew into my “formative” years my family and I continued to visit and experience the magic.

Slowly, I found my feelings transformed from something far less visual into something far more visceral. Shells and surf gave way to a magic that stimulated me in ways I found both new and strangely exciting. Like so many young people who grew up in summer locales I began to see the subtle changes in those I’d spent so many sun-drenched days with.

It’s difficult to pinpoint the exact day, week, and month when I suddenly came to the realization that one of my best summer pals had grown in ways that animated, excited, and terrified me. It began during the summer of our twelfth year. Maybe in some subtle ways the year before—but when Joey— short for Josephine—appeared that year on the first day of our summer long vacation I felt a lump in my throat and my heart quicken. Clich├ęs yes, but none the less just as true. All I know is that when I saw her that June morning something changed.

I’d had all the stirrings and emotional turmoil inherent in any adolescent experiencing the conflicts and ecstasy that accompanies puberty but it wasn’t till I saw Joey, silhouetted as she stood awaiting me at our front door that the emotion truly took hold.

That summer was a roller coaster for me… and though we never discussed it I’m sure it was for her, too. Suddenly, simple things became complicated. I noticed an electricity when our hands would touch or our eyes would find and linger on each others.

The smell of the tide and fresh-cut grass were exchanged for the subtle fragrance of her sweet fragrance when she was close. Things which a year or two before had seemed commonplace became scripted so as not to touch or get too close to each other while wanting desperately to do so.

Summer friendships begin on the 4th of July and end on Labor Day or at least that had been the way of it for the years prior to our emergence as young men and women. Others populated our sun and surf-drenched summer world but from my first encounter with Joey that summer neither of us paid attention to the others.

On Labor Day weekend the families who populated our little Cape Cod side street traditionally held a farewell cookout. That year while neither of us spoke of it, as if scripted Joey and I drifted away from the others to take a walk on the soft sand, knowing it would be our last for an interminable winter.

Suddenly, I felt her hand in mine and as the moon rose into a clear star filled sky I turned toward her. Her hazel eyes dropped behind thick lashes and I put my arms around her clumsily.

We heard out parents calling but as I turned to head back up the beach she gently pulled me close and kissed me. It was soft, innocent, and clumsy. Someone once suggested that no one ever forgets their first kiss. After a summer of watching her and waiting it was the most tender and sweetest I can ever recall….

Later that year my parents told that Joey’s father had been transferred to Texas. She wrote me a brief note and signed it “Love.” Perhaps it was real, perhaps not…but it was the summer of a lifetime, filled with angst and doubt and wanting to grow and explore so much more. A summer sealed with a kiss

Click HERE to purchase Kevin's Books at The Wild Rose Press

Click HERE to purchase Kevin's Books at Amazon

Click HERE to purchase Kevin's Books at Nook

About Kevin V. Symmons

Kevin Symmons is a successful author, college faculty member, and president of one of the Northeast's most respected writing organizations. His paranormal novel, "Rite of Passage", was a 2013 RomCon Reader's Crown Award finalist and has been an Amazon Best Seller. His latest release, "Out of the Storm", a contemporary romantic thriller set on Cape Cod, is already gathering 5 star reviews and will keep you turning pages late into the night. His novel with a working title of "Solo", a sweeping women's fiction work that exposes the tragedy of domestic violence in America, will be released from his award-winning publisher, the Wild Rose Press, in 2014. Kevin has collaborated with award-winning Boston screenwriter and playwright Barry Brodsky in adapting one of his story ideas for the screen. He is a sought after public speaker who has appeared across New England. Visit Kevin and like his FB Author Page, @KevinSymmons on Twitter, at Goodreads, Amazon, and at his website, www.ksymmons.com

Tuesday, September 01, 2015

Beneath the Lake Book Trailer

  Reeling from her boyfriend’s indiscretions at a party, Lacey Montgomery escapes into the throes of a torrential storm. Her car spins out of control and hurtles into the depths of an icy, black lake. She awakens in the arms of a handsome stranger, in a place she’s never heard of—thirty-four years before she was born.

Bobby Reynolds is smitten the moment the storm-ravaged woman opens her eyes. Learning the truth about her origin does nothing to stop the passion taking root in his heart and leaves him torn between finding a way to return Lacey to her time and convincing her stay with him.

Will the couple be able to discover the key to a mysterious portal before time rips them apart? Or will their spirits wander forever through a ghost town buried beneath the lake?

Slogging through underbrush, I scaled the embankment to get my bearings, but the night sky laden with rain made it impossible to navigate. The brush behind me crunched. I whirled around, slid on damp rocks, spinning stones down the bank. They toppled over the ledge and, after a few moments, splashed into water. A chill fisted in the pit of my stomach as I realized the knoll my car had hit was simply a peak in the ridge, the other side of which dropped off into the lake far below. Thank God my car hadn’t skidded over the cliff. As I eased back down the hill, a wave of vertigo swept over me, and I collapsed against my Lexus. Breathe Lacey. Closing my eyes, I mentally weighed my options.

My car was wedged into the embankment and would have to be towed. I definitely needed help, but no one could even see me down here. Hiking through the woods along the ridge would be perilous. The utter darkness and unrelenting rain was dangerous, but combined with dense brushwood and the lake below? No, I had to take the road. Was the spine-chilling figure that had lurked in the shadows still up there somewhere, or had he been far enough away when I crashed? I shook my head. It made little difference since I had no choice but to take my chances on the road.

I began the ascent, trudging back up the incline. Rain pelted my face like tiny needles. Darkness surrounded me. No moon, no stars, only the deep of night. Heart pounding from exertion and emotions still raw, I slogged upward through mud, brush, and Lord knows what else. Finally, a dim light flickered on the road above. Praying it was a house, a phone, an end to this nightmare, I strained my aching legs to push forward.

“Thank you, God,” I whispered, glancing over my shoulder at my wrecked car below.

That’s when my foot slipped. I slid backward, spiraled off the rocky ledge. Twisting to grab ahold of anything to keep me from plummeting downward, I lurched, my wet hands and battered body ripping against jagged rocks and brush.

Out of nowhere, a dark figure grabbed my arm. Frozen in fear, I screamed as loud as I could, but the shriek came out a hoarse, low whisper. I lunged against him, yanked to pull free, but I had no leverage, nothing to cling to. Fear choked the air from my lungs. A sharp pain slashed my ankle. Consumed with terror, I flung the entire weight of my body against his grasp. In answer to my prayers, he abruptly let go, but the sudden release hurled me backward, plunging…rolling endlessly…until I splashed into an icy, black abyss.

To Purchase