How to Do a Book Launch

You finally finished your book, edited and all. I mean really finished: have a stunning cover and, with pride, you hold the copy in your hands. Now what? How to get it out and spread the word?
Writers who have a traditional publisher needn't read further.
For us Indie authors, so called self-pub'd authors, here the real struggle begins.Marketing is the key-word that you should have learned along the way to publication.
FB is a good start, get your book on Goodreads is advisable from day one. With my first book I didn't know that.
Another author wrote the other day she was hosting a launch party in some cafe/pub/maybe bookstore and offered finger-food and a glass of wine. That sounded lovely but doesn't seem to be a viable option for me. FB launch parties were fashionable for a while. If I only had attended one, I would have a clearer picture in my head!
Wondering what else to do I send press releases to the local papers and TV and radio stations who featured me before about my other publications. As luck would have it, one of my FB friends is launching her new book on the same day. I had picked 16 June or Bloomsday because of its Irish affiliation. It's not exactly a holiday in Ireland but great fun for those who know about it and dress up for the occasion to retrace Leopold Bloom's steps in Dublin. (The protagonist of Ulysses by James Joyce. For further info, especially which pubs are involved, see Wikipedia.) Not that I have aspirations even to be mentioned in connection with him; nor did I read the whole book. On my last trip to Dublin, I happened to run into revelers and it was fun.
My FB friend mentions to  send her a mediakit if I want her to get involved.
How did I make it through several books without one? Putting all other chores and obligations aside, I looked for guidelines for a mediakit and got help again from FB fellow writers.
The incredible KS Brooks offers a solution by sending me a link to her fantastic website Indies Unlimited and the answer to my question how to put such a kit together. Check it out if you haven't done so yet: Indies Unlimited.
With this power tool at the ready, I can approach fellow writers and bloggers and ask for help. So together we do a blog tour.
My friend, however, is only starting on the launch date, whereas I decided to create some build-up to the launch date. Also, she offers her book for free on Kindle for a number of days. There is an old German saying: You only make money on the things you don't give away for free. I tried that before and it was not convincing to me. There were 1300+ downloads of my book for free and only 1, yes one!, sale after that for the longest time.
24 hours later, I'm exhausted but I have gotten almost every date between now and the 16th covered thanks to some marvelous people I met on various writers sites, in particular MasterKoda. And among them is yet another lady who launches her book that day! All of that is so exciting! I'm intensely grateful for the help I got all around.
Watch this space and everything that goes on on FB! If you have tips for me, please leave a comment or email them to me.

Siggy Buckley
Available on Amazon: Kindle for $2.99
Paperback $12.80 after Bloomsday-- link to follow!

Cover reveal: Deadly Call by Martha Bourke

On August 22, the latest volume of Martha Bourke's New Breed series launches: Deadly Call. 

Deep in the shadows of Boston, Massachusetts, the Order—a secret brotherhood of New Breed warriors—is all that stands between a takeover by shifter supremacists.

Diesel, the most charismatic of the brothers, exudes a love for life all the while carrying a terrible burden. A veteran of the Iraq War, he is haunted by the traumatic events of a single night. Poisoned by shame and certain he is cursed, Diesel fears he is a danger to everyone around him.

Helen, the Order’s stunning and gifted surgeon, has a few demons of her own. Even as she and Diesel give in to the deepest pleasures of the mating call, something still holds her back. Destiny threatens to divide them, until, in the midst of unimaginable tragedy, they must banish the ghosts of the past to save their future.

Martha Bourke grew up in Burlington, Vermont, a magical place where street art meets cosmopolitan sensibilities meets nature. She is an accomplished teacher who has spent the last fifteen years creating Spanish language programs for elementary schools and traveling extensively. For most of her life, she has had a fascination with foreign languages, culture, and mythology – a passion that colors and enriches the world of Jaguar Sun, which now encompasses two series.

Martha and her husband of fifteen years have carved out their own little piece of Vermont in the Massachusetts countryside. When not writing, she loves spending time with her animals, listening to good music, thrifting, and adding to her Converse collection.

Website: http://www.marthabourke.com

Twitter: http://twitter.com/Martha_Bourke

FB: http://www.facebook.com/marthabourkeauthor

Introducing "Ontario"

For today’s post I wanted to show you a bit of Ontario’s world – her art class. One of Ontario’s favorite things to do is draw or paint. Art is her emotional outlet and it means a lot to her. Here’s part of a scene when Ontario is in her art class at school. Her teacher has just introduced a new exercise where the students hear short bits of music and in a small amount of time each person tries to depict what the song is saying to them:

We waited in anticipation for the music to start, and when it did we all laughed, including Mrs. Wheeler. It was the theme song from American Idol.

      “Well, get to it!” Mrs. Wheeler said, and we all began. Most of didn’t get very far since the opening song was only about thirty seconds long, but we all obediently got to work. The next song was Poker Face by Lady Gaga, which again brought some laughs and also some moans. Next was the school fight song, Stairway to Heaven, and the National Anthem.

      Silently we painted away, song after song. I enjoyed the activity very much and I really tried hard to paint what my own emotions were telling me, not what the words were saying. The last song that played was Blue Suede Shoes, by Elvis Presley.

      “Really?” I said, out loud accidentally. I got several weird looks from people and hurriedly turned back to my work. I tried hard to think of something other than Austin, but that was definitely where my emotions were taking me so I gave in and started painting, trying to depict the way that he danced. This time I really got lost in the music and just let it guide my hand.

      “Alright!” Mrs. Wheeler said as the song ended. She stood up and turned off the CD player. “What did you come up with?” She looked around excitedly.  “Who wants to share what they drew for the first song? Is there anyone who drew something other than a singer?” she asked with a laugh.

      To our surprise a hand shot up in the back. It was Chad, a tall and gangly guy.

      “Okay Chad, what did American Idol say to you?” Mrs. Wheeler asked with a smile. Chad held up his picture and we laughed. He had painted stick figures of a man and a young girl fighting over a remote.

      “Would you care to explain?” Mrs. Wheeler asked.

      “It’s my Dad and little sister,” Chad said. “Every time it comes on my Dad tries to change it and my sister throws a royal fit.”

      “Very nice,” said Mrs. Wheeler and we clapped.

      “Alright, what about Lady Gaga?”

      This time several hands shot into the air so Mrs. Wheeler let them all share. We laughed at the various pictures we saw, including one that showed Lady Gaga holding I sign that said “I’m insane and I know it” and another that showed the creator at a concert freaking out.

To learn more about Ontario and her story, buy the book today, now available on Amazon in Paperback and Kindle formats!

Author Bio

Heidi Nicole Bird has been writing for as long as she can remember and it is her favorite thing in the world. Heidi is a regular NaNoWriMo participant and is mostly a young adult fantasy writer, but also likes to write juvenile fiction and other genres. She holds a Bachelor of Arts degree in History from Brigham Young University and she looks forward to exploring the genre of historical fiction. Heidi lives in Utah with her family and three dogs, and loves working from home as a full time writer.

Also by Heidi Nicole Bird, Through the Paper Wall

http://www.amazon.com/Through-the-Paper-Wall-ebook/dp/B00BF1MNT4

Links:                

www.facebook.com/HeidiNicoleBird

www.twitter.com/HeidiNicoleBird             

http://heidinicolebird.blogspot.com/

Links to Ontario:                                                                      

Paperback                                       Kindle Store

Ontario on Goodreads

One Shade of Red launch blog tour

Thank you, Writers Get Together, for taking part in the One Shade of Red launch blog tour.

One Shade of Red is my sexy spoof of the best-selling book you either love or hate,  Fifty Shades of Grey.

I decided to turn it on its head: instead of a naive young woman who finds the perfect man, One Shade is about a believably naive young man who gets his sexual education from a slightly older woman: beautiful, independently rich, smart, sophisticated and sexually voracious.

One Shade of Red hits the e-book retailers on April 2. For links, check out the author’s blog, scottswrittenwords.blogspot.com.

This second stop on the blog tour is from Chapter 2: The Re-Do, which establishes the main characters’ relationship.

The tour began on March 26 at Alan McDermott’s Jambalian http://jambalian.blogspot.com blog, and continues on March 28 at Charity Parkerson’s blog, The SinnerAuthor. 

Follow on for more of One Shade of Red!

Chapter 2: The Re-Do

I actually had my hand on the door to the beer store when my cell phone chirped. The screen showed “Private number.” I took a couple of steps away from the store as I put the phone to my ear. “Hello?” I fully expected it to be Kristen; she was paranoid about cell phone stalkers.

“Damian, it’s Mrs. Rosse.” I nearly dropped the phone—a customer calling you out of the blue probably wouldn’t be good news.

It wasn’t.

“I want you to come over here right away and finish what you started,” she said.

So many ideas went through my head all at the same time, but none of them were right. “I’m sorry?” were the only words that made it out of my mouth, however.

“You left yesterday before I came back, and I know that we had agreed to that, but on the understanding that you would do a complete job of cleaning the pool, first.” Did her voice have a really bitchy edge to it, or was that just the way the cell phone made her sound?

“But I thought I had finished. I cleaned out all the leaves and grass and finished up with the pool vacuum.”

“Well, if it had been the very first time that you had ever cleaned a swimming pool, I could understand it,” she said. Yep, that’s definitely a bitchy, pissed-off edge. “You cleaned out the easy debris, but you didn’t clean off the green slime around the side.”

“Yes I did!” Don’t get mad, some small, wise part of my brain warned. And don’t tell her it was the first pool you’ve ever cleaned. She’s your only customer.

When did I start caring about this stupid job?

“Well, it’s not as bad as it was, but there’s still a lot of slime there. Now I’ve already paid you in full for the job, and it has not been done to my satisfaction. Quite frankly, it’s not to anyone’s satisfaction. I would have been mortified for any of my friends to see it.”

“I’m sorry,” I repeated. God, I sounded so lame.

“Well, it’s fine to be sorry, but that doesn’t do me much good, now, does it? No, I want you to get down here and finish the job properly.”

“Ooo-kay,” I said, holding back a lot of swear words. “When would you like me to come?”

“Right now!” She sounded genuinely surprised at my question.

“Uhh, well, it will take me some time,” I started to say. “I’m at the other end of town, and with traffic ...”

“Fine. I’ll leave the side gate unlocked for you. Just make sure you’re finished before two o’clock.”

“Two?” I would have to scramble to get my cleaning stuff together and drive over there and get the job done — if my crappy car didn’t break down. “I’ll try my best, Mrs. Rosse, but is there a reason it has to be done by two? Mrs. Rosse?”

Cell phones don’t click or anything when you hang up, I realized.

So there I was, back at the pool under the mid-afternoon sun, scraping and scrubbing disgusting, smelly slime off the tiles. I had taken my shirt off and put it back on again when I felt my skin begin to burn, and now the cotton was saturated with sweat. Every so often, I reached into the pool and splashed my face. I thought about getting into the pool and staying cool while I cleaned, but I didn’t dare the risk of making Mrs. Rosse any bitchier.

“Now even the fussiest bitch has to be happy with this,” I muttered as I wiped off the very last of the gunk.

“That’s much better,” made me jump and I dropped the debris net into the pool.

I turned to see Mrs. Rosse in her jogging suit: tight blue-and-white top stretched across her breasts, matching tight shorts, expensive Nike running shoes with the top edge of pink half-socks peeking above the ankles. I made an effort to raise my eyes to hers, away from the outline of her nipples pushing against her top. I dropped the bucket and slimy water slopped onto my feet.

“Sorry to scare you,” she laughed and stepped to the edge of the pool. “I just wanted to say that the edge looks great. Nice and clean, now. I guess it’s my fault, really, letting it get as dirty as I did before having someone in to clean it.”

“I didn’t hear you come in,” was all I could think to say. I wondered if she had heard my out-loud thought about fussy bitches.

She laughed, but carefully inspected all around the edge of the pool. I got down on my knees, face burning, to try to fish the net out without getting all wet. When I straightened up again, she was standing right in front of me.

“You’re awfully cute,” she said. My mouth opened, but nothing came out. What do you say? I tried to smile and tried even harder not to look at her nipples. “I think you deserve a tip for your hard work,” she added.

 

Scott Bury