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Friday, May 31, 2013

KAT FLANNERY - LAKOTA HONOR!!



Kat Flannery's second blockbuster novel



Bestselling Western Romance author, Kat Flannery takes you on a new journey with her new Historical Paranormal Romance, Lakota Honor.

Fate has brought them together, but will a promise tear them apart?
In the small town of Willow Creek, Colorado, Nora Rushton spends most of her days locked up in her home with a father who resents her and fighting off unwanted marriage proposals from the wealthy Elwood Calhoun. Marked as a witch, Nora must hide her healing powers from those who wish to destroy all the witkowin—crazy women. What she doesn't know is that a bounty hunter is hot on her trail.
Lakota native Otakatay has an obligation to fulfill. He has been hired to kill the witkowin. In a time when race and difference are a threat and innocence holds no ground, courage, love and honor will bring Nora and Otakatay together as they fight for their freedom. Will the desire to fulfill his promise drive Otakatay to kill Nora? Or will the kindness he sees in her blue eyes push him to be the man he once was?

Reviews:
"Transport back to the old west with this paranormal historical, and its alpha hero, and a heroine hiding her secret talents."
—Shannon Donnelly, author of the Mackenzie Solomon Urban Fantasy series

"Ms. Flannery doesn’t shy away from writing gritty scenes or about unpleasant topics…That’s what good writing is all about—bringing out strong emotions in a reader."
—Peggy L. Henderson, bestselling author of the Yellowstone Romance Series

"Those who relish the conflict of a heroic half-breed trapped between the white man's world and the Indian will fall in love with LAKOTA HONOR."
—Cindy Nord, award-winning author of No Greater Glory

"LAKOTA HONOR weaves a fast paced and beautiful prose that lures you through every chapter and leaves you wanting more."
—Erika Knudsen, paranormal author of Monarchy of Blood
 


Excerpt
PROLOGUE



Colorado Mountains, 1880


The blade slicing his throat made no sound, but the dead body hitting the ground did. With no time to stop, he hurried through the dark tunnel until he reached the ladder leading out of the shaft.
 He’d been two hundred feet below ground for ten days, with no food and little water. Weak and woozy, he stared up the ladder. He’d have to climb it and it wasn’t going to be easy. He wiped the bloody blade on his torn pants and placed it between his teeth. Scraped knuckles and unwashed hands gripped the wooden rung.
The earth swayed. He closed his eyes and forced the spinning in his head to cease. One thin bronzed leg lifted and came down wobbly. He waited until his leg stopped shaking before he climbed another rung. Each step caused pain, but was paired with determination. He made it to the top faster than he’d thought he would. The sky was black and the air was cool, but fresh. Thank goodness it was fresh.
 He took two long breaths before he emerged from the hole. The smell from below ground still lingered in his nostrils; unwashed bodies, feces and mangy rats. His stomach pitched. He tugged at the rope around his hands. There had been no time to chew the thick bands around his wrists when he’d planned his escape. It was better to run than crawl, and he chewed through the strips that bound his feet instead. There would be time to free his wrists later.
He pressed his body against the mountain and inched toward the shack. He frowned. A guard stood at the entrance to where they were. The blade from the knife pinched his lip, cutting the thin skin and he tasted blood. He needed to get in there. He needed to say goodbye. He needed to make a promise.
 The tower bell rang mercilessly. There was no time left. He pushed away from the rocky wall, dropped the knife from his mouth into his bound hands, aimed and threw it. The dagger dug into the man’s chest. He ran over, pulled the blade from the guard and quickly slid it across his throat. The guard bled out in seconds.
He tapped the barred window on the north side of the dilapidated shack. The time seemed to stretch. He glanced at the large house not fifty yards from where he stood. He would come back, and he would kill the bastard inside.

He tapped again, harder this time, and heard the weak steps of those like him shuffling from inside. The window slid open, and a small hand slipped out.
“Toksha ake—I shall see you again,” he whispered in Lakota.
The hand squeezed his once, twice and on the third time held tight before it let go and disappeared inside the room.
A tear slipped from his dark eyes, and his hand, still on the window sill, balled into a fist. He swallowed past the sob and felt the burn in his throat. His chest ached for what he was leaving behind. He would survive, and he would return.
Men shouted to his right, and he crouched down low. He took one last look around and fled into the cover of the forest. 

The quintessential Kat Flannery


BIO
Kat Flannery has loved writing ever since she was a girl. She is often seen jotting her ideas down in a little black book. When not writing, or researching, Kat enjoys snuggling on her couch with a hot chocolate and a great book.
Her first novel, CHASING CLOVERS became an Amazon’s bestseller in Historical and Western romance. This is Kat’s second book, and she is currently hard at work on the third.
When not focusing on her creative passions, Kat is busy with her three boys and doting husband.

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Tuesday, May 28, 2013

BIGFOOT BOY ACCEPTED BY PUBLISHER


A book accepted by Mockingbird Lane Press

Oh, yes, lol, when I got home on Saturday night I found an email from Regina at Mockingbird Lane Press accepting my MG/YA novel BIGFOOT BOY: Lost on Earth. She'll send me a contract this week and we'll start editing. The book will come out in print and digital. It's not too soon to start marketing and promoting.
BIGFOOT BOY, a Sasquatch from space

I'm quite impressed so far with Mockingbird Lane Press and Regina's communication skills and efficiency. Here's to a productive business relationship!

Thanks, Regina!!

 



Writers' Conference Wrap-up

Words in 3 Dimensions Weekend

Saturday, May 25, 2013

The conference started at Grant MacEwan University's downtown campus, Robbins Centre on 109 Street and 104 Avenue, with breakfast and a keynote speaker, then went on to sessions throughout the day. What a wonderful weekend! 

Rain poured and wind howled, the morning was cold, and I took a cab there and back on Friday and on Saturday morning, seven dollars each way, as I live close to GMU. Saturday evening and Sunday were warmer so I walked and took a bus.
Old boogie van by the seashore

I got over my shyness and approached publishers, agents, editors, and other authors, but not boldly. I think I had an enthusiasm and openness that was engaging because I got good responses. 

I was able to pitch my family's storybook to an interesting senior editor at Athabasca University Press (AU Press), which was a surprise to me, as I'd never thought of doing so. When I noticed she was interested in memoirs and diaries I approached her and she expressed interest. 

When I got home Saturday night I sent follow-up emails to an agent and two or three publishers.


Author busy at work


I saw my old friend and mentor Rick Lauber there, too, pitching his book Caregivers' Guide for Canadians, and looking spiffy in a striped shirt and sandwich, lol. 

I met up with a couple of friends from the Canadian Authors Association and met my publisher, Cheryl Tardif, for the first time in person. She was presenting on a panel and looks very much like her glamor portrait. I recognized her right away from her picture.

 Aydan Dunnigan was there with a friend, and Jana from the CAA came over and said hello. 

I floated about the Marketplace on the second floor, had fun, bought some books from On Spec, a Sci-fi/fantasy magazine, and chatted with several vendors. 

I sold one copy of the Insanity Machine at the WGA table.

Sunday

What a great weekend! I didn't win the silent auction bid for CKUA promo materials including a hat and t-shirt and other great stuff, but it's all for a good cause and I think I upped the ante a bit with my bid of $20 up from the previous $14. 

I was late for the Sunday sessions but slithered late into Nancy Flight's panel discussion and was able to present her with a copy of The Insanity Machine, already self-published, but she indicated to me on Saturday that Greystone Books might be interested. 
The Insanity Machine book cover

I had lunch with three interesting authors and an editor, gave them bookmarks and business cards at their request, and discussed the Insanity Machine with an author who is also a counselor and did her Master's thesis on schizophrenia. It's a small world. 

After lunch I listened to a storyteller, Corin Raymond, who also performs at The Fringe in the summertime here. 

I decided not to go to the grant workshop at 2:00 o'clock. It might have been interesting but I'd had enough for the day, walked a few blocks to the buses on Jasper Avenue, and took a bus home.

This conference was probably the most worthwhile event of my literary life, wonderfully organized by The Writers' Guild of Alberta, the Editors' Association of Canada, and Get Publishing Communications Society.

The coffee, snacks, and meals were good, too.

Thank you, 3 Dimensions


The conference got me out of my shell. 


Thanks, Words in 3 Dimensions, for a memorable weekend. 

Looking forward to the next author's conference, wherever that may be, and if it's in Edmonton, I'll be there with bells on my toes.

The next event

I'm looking forward to the next gala affair, the Canadian Authors' Association AGM on Friday, May 31 coming up, business casual dress, they said, and I'll try to dress accordingly. 

An interview on Rogers with a CAA author
"It's a dream come true"



Saturday, May 25, 2013

Words in 3 Dimensions This Weekend

My First Writers' Conference Started Friday



My very first writers' conference! Apparently there are editors and publishers there, too, but I didn't meet many people on Friday night, most seemed to know someone else, but I sat with a couple of friendly authors at an interview by the wonderful Shelagh Rogers with iconic Cape Breton author Alistair MacLeod. Someone behind me kindly offered to get me a coffee.

A lovely reception

The reception was very nice, lots of good tapas and there was free punch and water, and a cash bar.


A lovely reception with wine and cheese and lots of good tapas


I don't drink but paid for a cola and later poured for myself a glass of water which leaked! The punch was free but someone had left a ladle submerged. I'll be bolder today and tomorrow, get a proper glass for my water (my bad, I chose a plastic glass), and will go back for punch even if someone leaves the ladle in it again!

Shy


One of my problems is I'm a little shy about approaching groups or people who look like they know more than I do.
A shy author

My publisher will be there

Cheryl Tardif
I'm looking forward to the conference later today with my publisher, Cheryl Tardif,
speaking at ten, and perhaps a one-on-one with an agent or publisher later in the day.

 

 

 

Possible sale of my books


They took ten of my books for possible sale and I'll pick them up again this afternoon.

Rainy day people


I took a cab there and back as it's raining so hard and is cold, I'm not sure of the bus service, I'd have to walk four or five blocks and then I'm not sure when the bus comes in that particular area. If it were a sunny day and warm I'd be willing to walk. It's about 15 blocks from my apartment.

Gala tonight


I'll have more to report later today after the second day is done. There's a gala tonight but I'm not registered for that.
Gala Saturday night

Didn't recognize any agents, editors, or publishers


So far I haven't rubbed shoulders with any agents, editors or publishers, but I suspect many seasoned authors know them and are part of the groups I saw that I was shy to join, as I don't know them and they seemed to be very intent on chatting amongst themselves.

I'm hoping I can pitch one of my books later today or Sunday.

Kenna pitching a book


Continental breakfast today and tomorrow


Croissants and coffee
There's also a continental breakfast with coffee.


Three organizers did an excellent job of it



I think this is a very worthwhile conference and I salute the three organizers, the WGA (Writers' Guild of Alberta), Editors' Association of Canada, and Get Publishing Communications Society, for a very efficiently run and generous conference.

Must be bolder

I ran off the first couple of pages of my unpublished novels in case someone wants to look at them.

I think I'll be more bold in approaching the mentors gathered there this weekend.

Some phony laughter - nervous authors perhaps?


One note, there's a lot of phony laughter going around. Authors are notoriously shy and somewhat introverted, perhaps this is nervous laughter and nervous chatting up of anyone who seems to be a mentor...

More later.

One last video featuring a book called "No Great Mischief" by Alistair MacLeod.

Russia, India and China

I notice that I have quite a large Russian audience, nothing this week from India or China, and I think I'll focus simply on writing a good blog.

If India or China, who figure largely in my debut novel, SpaceHive, want to read a good middle grade book, perhaps suitable for those adults learning English, then be sure and buy SpaceHive on Amazon worldwide for $2.99. 

It's a really good deal, and if you want the print version that's available, too.

Here are a few excerpts from SpaceHive:



"What should we do, sir?" the minister of staff asked the prime minister of Canada.
"Call the president," the prime minister said. "Call the United Federation of Nations and our European allies. Call Russia, China and India. We must agree to work together. We've never faced a danger like this before."
And the earth's leaders gathered to devise a strategy.



Zibb flew with Queen Taranta and the nurses over the Himalayas.
"The queen is in China." Zibb's barbed hands grasped the red translator.
"Zibb, you're with the queen?"
"I can't talk anymore, little pet."
"We're losing power, Zibb. Stay there. I'll be in touch."
Back in India, General Vard stood his ground and snarled.
"Show them mercy," Zibb said.
"Mercy? They'll take it as a sign of weakness. We must kill them all."

WARNING: SPOILER



He wiped his face with a dirty hand. "I believe the wasps are still alive, still in what's left of the mother ship or in pods that fell over India. The smaller alien ships that remain are now getting ready for a second wave of attacks."
"The Black Watch? The black general? Where are they?"
"They went down with their mother ship, now scattered in smoking pieces on the sides of the mountain. We don't know for sure if the alien general was killed when his ship went down. If he's alive, then in his rage he could still be an awesome force against us."
"Do you know the whereabouts of their queen?" Zeller asked.
"Yes. She's in China, and my friend is with her."


  Have fun, my friends!