Showing posts with label indie publishing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label indie publishing. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 2, 2016

They stole my story!!!


The Insecure Writer’s Support Group

There you are. It’s a rainy evening and you’ve written over one thousand words in the current work-in-progress. You’re winding it down for the day. A little surfing at your favorite online bookseller is in order. You can download a new book and tottle off to bed to do a little reading.

Not so fast. There is YOUR cover on someone else’s book! 

Okay, okay. You know everyone and their sister is buying cover stock from a very limited available pool of quality stock. You just have to grin and bear it and remember you bought that cover stock because the guy is pretty sexy. 

So you scroll a few more pages and then it happens. Holy crap! SOMEONE STOLE YOUR TITLE!!!  

Well, it’s not exactly your title. Your title’s The Alpha’s Broken Finger and this - this - this THIEF used The Alpha’s Broken Toe. And you can't copyright titles and names. But dammit! That’s awfully close. And both stories are about how his mate, be that mate male or female, saves him.  

What the heck is going on?? Is this something serious or did we simply inspire another writer? Haven't we all gotten inspiration from someone else somewhere along the line? Who hasn't read a story and been blown away by a particular turn of a phrase and then had it creep into our usage? 

Plagiarism is a risk we all take when we publish a book. While I wrote the above tongue-in-cheek, the theft of intellectual property is no laughing matter. The honest among us have all seen covers and stories so similar to our own that the hair on our arms raises in alarm, disgust and anger. It’s not a good feeling. So what do we do about it?

The serious among us view our work as both creation and business. There are steps we can take if we’ve been pirated (DMCA letters) or suspect plagiarism (an attorney versed in the applicable laws).  One of the sad truths about this business is it’s stacked against the author. We do the work of creation and everyone makes a profit on our backs.

I could let the ugliness of theft stop me from writing, but I won’t. I could put my money into lawyer fees (and if seriously pissed off I will). I submit DMCA letters albeit in a lazy fashion. For better or for worse I’ve accepted the risk because I believe Karma exists.

If we accuse another writer of plagiarism and it turns out to be a weird coincidence, we’ve gained an enemy, one unlikely to ever forget. And do we want to apply the stigma of plagiarism to someone else who may have simply had a similar idea? How would we feel if we were unjustly accused of such a thing?

I know that sooner or later savvy readers will catch on and avoid suspect “authors.” The problem of deliberate, premeditated theft is so pervasive that even with a hundred thousand keyboards raised against it, it’s not going to go away. And that’s not right and that’s not fair.

The best thing I can do is put my energy into writing the next story and not dwell on the inequities of this business. I could allow it to discourage me, but I won’t. I do what I do for the honest readers and there are enough of them left to keep me going. And that will just have to be good enough until karma kicks butt.

Rayne
rayneforrest.blogspot.com

(This is a modified version of a post that was written for another venue in 2015.)




Science fiction romance
Time travel romance

Wednesday, July 6, 2016

IWSG: We Must Respect Our Own Worth

http://www.insecurewriterssupportgroup.com/
The Insecure Writer's Support Group

When I first got into this crazy business of publishing, as opposed to writing, I was stunned by some of the ideas put forth as “truths.” But being a newbie, I ducked my head and kept writing. It didn’t change the real truth, one that too many writers either forget or never figured out. One very serious problem I’ve witnessed over and over throughout my years of being a published author is that too few of us realize our own value. This must change - and it is changing.

There is no one more important to the publishing world than the author.

The entire publishing industry rises and falls with those authors willing to publish their intellectual property. 

Without the author, there are no stories.

Without the author, there are no books.

Without the author, there are no readers.

Without the author, there is no publishing.

Each and every one of us is absolutely vital to our industry. There are no exceptions.

Each and every one of us has something so unique to offer that only the individual can provide it.

Each and every one of us is deserving of the respect of our peers and our publishers. We are created equal and that equality has nothing to do with sales numbers.  

Each and every one of us is entitled to the protection of copyright.

It’s 2016. Publishers need authors far more than authors need publishers.

Let us always remember: Authors are the publishing industry.

We must respect our own worth. 

Rayne
Website

Tuesday, March 8, 2016

Money Back Guarantee

Available now at online book sellers: Money Back Guarantee



Slade Martin is under attack. An electronic thief absconded with all his liquid personal wealth and someone on his board of directors is plotting a hostile takeover. The obvious culprit isn’t the guilty party, and Slade gets help to find the real perpetrator from a surprise source – the lovely and capable Iris D’Vance.  

Iris D’Vance is determined to not repeat her mistakes with men – until she meets Slade Martin, and decides all bets are off. Accepting the invitation to sit on the board of Slade’s charitable foundation lands her in the middle corporate intrigue. Slade needs her help and makes her an offer she can’t turn down.

Slade and Iris join forces to unravel the plot to ruin Slade and discover their interest in each other runs deeper than sharing altruistic works. When the person behind Slade’s woes is found, it’s Iris who’s in danger. Slade has to act fast to bring her home safe and make good on his money back guarantee. 


INTRO:

Slade stalked off the elevator, his prey dead center in the crosshairs. Primed and loaded, one word from Ms. Iris D’Vance, and he’d let the hammer fall. Damn her. He sucked in a deep breath to replace the air that whooshed out of his lungs as her appearance burned onto his corneas.
Damn her for standing in front of the windows with the sunlight coming in behind her. Every luscious curve was visible through the backlit fabric of her dress. He’d not seen anything that amazing in…well, he’d never seen anything that amazing. His temper bled away, replaced by a surge of lust. Maybe he needed to rethink his approach, and fast, before she got away with old man Farnsmore.
Iris turned slightly and spotted him. Her eyes widened, she stiffened, then her composure slid back into place. It didn’t matter. Slade had seen the sudden interest in her eyes. He held out his hand to her for a friendly handshake.
“Ms. D’Vance, I apologize for getting off on the wrong foot upstairs. I get a little nervous before board meetings.”
Iris accepted his hand. Her lips parted. He closed his fingers around hers, noting how cold hers were as he lifted them to his lips.
“I’m sorry. That was forward of me. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Her chin lifted, and her lovely hazel eyes took on a new, hard glint.
“I’m sure that well-rehearsed and very tired line still works on some women, but I assure you, I’m not one of them, Mr. Martin.”
Slade very grudgingly gave her high marks for honesty. He’d asked for that, and she’d given it to him.
“No, it doesn’t work, obviously. I’ll have to practice it.”
“Not on me, Mr. Martin. Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s my ride.”
Dismissed, for God’s sake. Torpedoed.
Slade grabbed her wrist. She shot him a cold look that would have sent a weaker man to his knees.
Well, she could glare at him all she wanted to. What he had to say was important.
“Whatever it is you and Farnsmore have schemed up, I warn you now, he’ll turn on you the minute you’ve outlived your usefulness.”
Her look turned wary. “What are you talking about, Mr. Martin?”
“Don’t play stupid. I know old Reggie worked his glib tongue with the other members to get you a seat on my board. Now you’d best remember it is my board. Drop Farnsmore before you get in over your head.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Have it your way, but don’t say I didn’t warn you about Reggie and his cronies.” Slade left her standing there, turning abruptly and calling for his car.
Curse the day Reginald Farnsmore managed to wrangle a seat on the CRM board! The man was nothing but trouble. Slade slid into the driver’s seat of his vintage Cadillac. Crap. He needed to pay the permit for the gasoline engine because in his current financial straits, he couldn’t afford the steep fine for a lapse.
How did Iris fit into Reggie’s grandiose scheme to take over the board? Maybe Farnsmore thought she’d be a proper distraction. If that were the case, Slade had to admit the man had picked a woman who could get his mind on other things. Too bad she didn’t have the balls, well, ovaries, to own up to it.
The look in her eyes swam in his memory, the look of shocked confusion that she’d not been able to hide as he’d delivered his warning.
Fucking hell. His chest tightened, constricting painfully around his heart. She’d not been faking. No one could act that well. Maybe she really didn’t know.
Great, now he’d have to save both D’Vance and CRM from Farnsmore.


Purchase at Amazon
Purchase at OmniLit
Purchase at KOBO
Purchase at Barnes & Noble/NOOK
Purchase at iTunes
Purchase at 24Symbols
Purchase at Scribd

Thursday, February 25, 2016

Mischief at Midnight - new cover up

I love Google calendars. I run several different ones because I share them with different people. It works well to have a shared calendar with my honey so I can "suggest" what he should prepare for dinner. Whether or not he actually cooks what I've suggested is fodder for another blog.

Anyway... Today marks the one year anniversary of Mischief at Midnight being out as an indie release. It's a little surprising it's been that long, but when they say time flies, they're not joking.

I've learned a lot in the last year and I decided it is perhaps time for Mischief at Midnight to get a cover do-over. It's not that I need more to do - trust me I don't - but MAM is a cute little story. You know, the tangled webs we weave and all that. What starts out as a harmless deception to help someone out with a dinner party quickly becomes an evening that's gotten out of hand. I thought it was great fun, but I confess to a bit of bias about the story.

Anyway... I decided to celebrate the success of the last year with an updated cover. Now I just have to go around to all the vendors and get it posted. That's that hard part.

Rayne
rayneforrest.blogspot.com

Saturday, January 9, 2016

Moving forward in a brave? new world

I'm pretty smart, not to brag about myself, but like most folks I can get caught off guard.  In the publishing world, what's considered "the norm" shifts with the wind. My slow, careful approach to indie publishing got an unpleasant kick recently.

On January 2, 2016, Amber Quill Press announced they were closing effective March 30, 2016. I only have two books there as Rayne Forrest, but my alter ego has about forty. To say this doesn't make me a happy camper is an understatement. 

Amber Quill has been great to work with. No drama, just good, publishing. Did I agree with everything they did, business-wise? No, but nothing was huge enough to be a deal breaker. Nothing they did was a "red flag" item. They valued integrity in a business that's sorely lacking in that commodity. So I was content to go indie on the Rayne Forrest titles and go through AQP for my alter ego. 

But if there's one thing the publishing industry can't abide it's contentment. The rise of Amazon and indie publishing is striking death blows to small, competent publishers (with huge and valuable mailing lists) across the board. In the long run, it won't be just small publishers and booksellers that suffer. The voices of individual authors are fading, taking with them great works. It's simply too hard for them to persevere.  

Nothing can replace my experience and history at Amber Quill Press. I learned and learned and learned from Trace Zaber & Co.   

And I'm a better person, and writer, for the time spent with them. 

Rayne
www.rayneforrest.com
rayneforrest.blogspot.com 
twitter.com/rayneforrest

Wednesday, January 6, 2016

Finishing the Work-in-Progress - IWSG

January 6, 2016

Picking up the Career Pieces

The Insecure Writer’s Support Group

Happy Epiphany! Today marks the end of the Twelve Days of Christmas, sometimes called Twelfth Night, and the historical arrival of the Magi bearing gifts. Many people leave the Christmas decorations up through Epiphany. I’m not usually one of them although if I can’t get to un-decorating on New Year’s Day, I’ll wait until after Epiphany.

The word “epiphany” means “revelation.”  Well, I’d like to have an epiphany as to why it’s been so difficult for me to pick up the pieces of my writing career. Publishing houses aside, that is. I know those reasons and they start with I’m the one doing the work and someone else is making the money.

I hold the rights to all the Rayne Forrest works, save two, and I think that’s a good thing. I’ve been indie publishing the stories and it’s a lot easier than a publisher would have you believe. So why the hesitation in finishing the new work-in-progress? It’s currently at 12,000 words and if I applied myself, I could finish it by the end of the month. I don’t have writer’s block on the creativity spectrum, so what is it?

Finding that answer is something I need to work toward in 2016.

Rayne

Saturday, December 5, 2015

The Curiosity Shoppe by Rayne Forrest

Welcome to the 120th week of the My Sexy Saturday blog hop! This week's theme is A Sexy Galaxy and I've got a few. I love writing science-fiction. It's such fun to create a universe where you're the one who makes the rules. Today it's about an alien named Semele who broke the rules and traveled a long way to find her man. And Zeb's glad she did! 

Here are seven sexy paragraphs from The Curiosity Shoppe.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“We are not married. Marriage can be dissolved. The bonding cannot. I am yours, Zebadiah. It remains to be seen if you will become mine.” She pressed her bottom down into his lap again. His eyes crossed.
She jerked upright, her spine straight. She blinked wide green eyes at him. “Have I misunderstood that …” she looked at the pronounced bulge he sported, “that is an indication of desire to mate in a human male?”
“Oh, jeez.” What had he gotten himself into? He tapped her nose lightly with his index finger. “Now listen, wife.”
She treated him to that wide-eyed blink again.
“I’m going to try to survive kissing you again. No talking. No sending me subliminal messages. No reading my mind. No hands on my crotch. Got it?”
She blinked several times. Then she smiled.
            Not a welcoming, friendly, pleased, happy smile - oh no. Not a smile of compliance - not her. She smiled like the cat who just ate the canary in the old nursery rhyme his gran had told him. “I understand, Zebadiah. You must lead.”

THE CURIOSITY SHOPPE

Available now at All Romance eBooks
www.allromanceebooks.com/product-thecuriosityshoppe-1913989-340.html

 More about The Curiosity Shoppe:



Cajun Zebadiah LaCroy is a long way from home. Infected with a bad case of wanderlust, Zeb’s been working on an intergalactic merchant ship. He’s seen all manner of strange worlds and stranger beings. When his ship docks at Station Janus, Zeb searches for a gift for his sister back home and finds more than he bargained for. Come and see, a female voice calls telepathically to him. Never one to be able to deny his innate curiosity, Zeb can’t resist. He’s caught in her spell.

When he finally sees her, hears her say his name, Zeb knows Semele is telling him the truth. They are bonding exclusively to each other. For the bonding to be complete, they must mate. The only thing is, she’s not quite human.

Rayne Forrest

www.rayneforrest.com
http://rayneforrest.blogspot.com
twitter.com/rayneforrest



Be sure to check out all the My Sexy Saturday blogs using the link below.




Sunday, November 22, 2015

Of insistent muses - she said "blog" and here I am

Ah, the insidious little voice. You know the one. That persistent, annoying whisper only you can hear. We all have one. Call it the devil on your shoulder or your muse. Call it worse than that if you want. Heck, I won’t stop you. I generally refer to mine as my muse and she’s such a whiner! For 2015 she's been prattling on about blogging more regularly until I gave in and said I would try. 

It was basically a lie to myself, but here I am. Searching for something to blog about. 

I’m not sure what my topic should be today, although this past week certainly provided fodder. Everywhere I turn there's something going on. From the atrocity in Paris to Matt Kenseth standing his ground (yea!), news abounds. But this is supposed to be a blog about the writing and the author behind it. 

I’ve been busy writing this past week. Very busy. My alter ego finished a manuscript and turned it in - WITH the forms. That's not a small feat. I needed to get that finished and clear the decks for Thanksgiving. This year, I'm fixing both Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners for us and my mother and stepfather. It's not a hardship. I have a plan, and my beloved is onboard to help. 

Today is the last NASCAR race of the 2015 season, and I plan to watch most of it. It's Jeff Gordon's last race, and while I'm not precisely a Gordon fan, I have no trouble admitting he's had a stellar career. While the race is on, my partner and I will finalize the game plan for Thanksgiving and Christmas cooking. Christmas is easier because I have the day before off work, but all will be fine. 

So here it is. I’ve completed my exercise in self-discipline and blogged on schedule. Thankfully, the muse didn't insist my blogging be cohesive, or even on point. See ya next time around. Have a great day! 

Rayne Forrest

Subscribe by email to my mailing list
authorrayneforrest-subscribe@yahoogroups.com

Saturday, October 31, 2015

All Hallow's Eve

All Hallow's Eve. The newest national holiday.

When I was young, so long ago, we had to walk to school in six foot of snow.... oh. Wrong story. That's my grandfather's story.

When I was young, Halloween was always celebrated with Trick or Treat on the Thursday before All Hallow's Eve. Back in those days, the neighborhood was a safe place for us kids. Parents worked together to everyone safe and in line. If we misbehaved, there was no escaping the consequences.

On Trick or Treat night, the parents turned us loose in one big pack. They did this for a singular reason and that was so these so-called adults could sneak out basement doors, hide in the bushes, and scare us kids witless. Those were the days my friends....

Rayne
www.rayneforrest.com

www.twitter.com/rayneforrest

Saturday, October 24, 2015

A Hero's Bargain for this My Sexy Saturday

Welcome to another My Sexy Saturday! My Sexy Saturday is the weekly blog hop that brings you some of the best in romance fiction. 

Science fiction is my first love. When I was about nine or ten, I read Moon of Three Rings by Andre Norton. It was straight sci-fi and it opened the galaxy for me. I started out writing sci-fi only to discover it was difficult to get published, so I switched to contemporary.

Well, those days are over. Indie publishing rules and I'm going back to my roots. All I need is a thirty-hour day!

Here are seven sexy paragraphs from the sci-fi romance, A Hero's Bargain.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~


She put her hands on her hips. “You are…you are…”

“What? Annoying? I know.” He grinned at her then crooked his finger at her. “Come here.”

She backed away, shaking her head. “No. I have things I must do while it’s daylight. You should rest. Take the bed. I’ll sleep on the pallet.”

“Remember our little deal, angel.” He let the blanket slip just a hair. Her eyes flicked down to his groin. She licked her lips. His cock twitched. He could have howled with glee at the response. She’d take the pallet his ass. Who was she trying to fool? Her curiosity about the stranger in her care consumed her.

Ryder tossed the blanket over the foot of her bed and let her get a good look at him as he worked his way beneath the covers. The bed was longer and softer than the pallet, and he stretched out. It was heavenly to suddenly be comfortable—and free of pain. 

He tucked the covers around his hips before he looked at her. She watched him, stared at him, actually. He met her gaze.

“I’ll rest, angel. I anticipate a long night.” 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A Hero's Bargain is available at Amazon. 

About A Hero's Bargain:


When a poker game turns ugly, erstwhile gambler Ryder Vaughan runs for his life. After crash landing his ship on an unknown world it looks like his life will be a short one - until the lovely healer, Saba Duer, finds him and saves him. Smitten, Saba has no qualms allowing Ryder to seduce her.

In Ryder, Saba sees the coming of a hero to save her people. The deadly errol that has terrorized the Ramalho Clan for so many years has been spotted on a course that will bring it to the village. Ryder has a weapon that could destroy the creature. She strikes a bargain with him to secure his help. Ryder’s not yet well and whole, but there is no choice. Saba has to let him go and face the truth – she’s sent him on a mission to die.   

But Ryder has a plan - and dying isn’t a part of it.

Rayne
http://rayneforrest.blogspot.com
www.rayneforrest.twitter.com




Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Loving Luke by Rayne Forrest - now available at All Romance eBooks

Contemporary romance
- - - 


Chere Palmer has had enough of boys who only think they’re men, of blind dates and being polite to everyone’s cousins. She’s certainly had enough of the cell phone company that gave her an infamous phone number. She’s ready for a life of celibacy or an honest-to-goodness mature man, whichever way it works out. Right now, it’s late and she wants to go home – alone.

Luke Fisher has had a bad day.  The electric was off, he overslept, the computer network bombed and he had to stay at the office until midnight to restore it, and on a Friday, no less. Now, to top it all off, he’s got a flat tire. Luke calls the number on his roadside assistance card and instead of help, he gets an angry female. He tries to convince her he really needs a tow truck, but she’s convinced he’s out for some fun calling a phone number made famous in a rock song.

It doesn’t take long for Chere to realize Luke’s telling the truth. Taken with his sincerity, she agrees to go out with him and a romance quickly blooms. But Luke’s past is never far behind, and when it catches up to him Chere has to decide to walk away or spend her life Loving Luke. 


EXCERPT

As to how the tire had gone flat, Luke didn’t want to give in to conjecture. It had been fine when he’d parked the car. Dwelling on it meant delving into his past and he didn’t have the energy for that right now. He’d worry tomorrow, in the daylight, when his speculations were more manageable.

Climbing into the Mustang, he dropped the seat back and settled in to call the tow truck and maybe snap a nap until they arrived. At least he could run the engine and create a cool breeze with the air conditioning system and avoid the humid night air and the mosquitoes. He keyed in the number on his roadside assistance card and waited for someone to answer.

A silky smooth voice, with just the barest whisper of the South said hello. He rattled off his name and roadside assistance insurance number and waited for her to ask all the usual questions for filling out her forms. There was silence on the other end of the connection.

“Did you get all that?” he asked her. Her reply startled him.

“I’m sure you think you’re funny, but you’re not. Don’t call this number again.”

The connection went dead with a click. What the fuck?

He dialed the number again and the same voice answered, only a little less pleasant this time. Well, he was feeling a bit less pleasant, too. He paid a lot of money for roadside service and he expected to get it when he called for it. He was too tired, too hot and sweaty waiting for the car’s air conditioning to get up to speed to tolerate games.

“Listen, whoever you are, I need roadside assistance. Just stop playing your little game and send the tow truck. You got that?”

“Me? I’m playing games? Listen, bucko, I don’t know who you think you’re calling, but I’m not a tow truck driver and you’re bloody well on your own.” The connection broke.

He looked at his phone, dismayed. Could he just have one thing go his way between now and dawn? He hit the redial. When she answered this time, she was hopping mad.

“Now you listen to me you smarmy son-of-a-bitch. You call me again and I’ll have the cops on you so fast you won’t know what the hell happened to you. Do you hear me?”

Well. Maybe he’d better try to be very nice and see where it got him. He felt more human since the air conditioning finally blew cool air at him. 

“Ma’am, I hear you. I need a tow truck and I dialed the number on my roadside assistance card. I’m really sorry to be bothering you if you’re not the agency listed.”

Nothing but complete silence. Had she disconnected again? “Hello?”

“Mister, are you telling me the truth?” Some of the anger left her voice.

“Lady, I don’t have the energy to be jerking your chain and I wouldn’t lie unless there was a sub-machine gun pointed at my head. I need a tow truck.” He gave her the name of his insurance company. “Are you someplace you could maybe look up that number for me?”

He looked over at the only other car left on the lot, parked under a bright pole light. A pretty woman with long dark hair sat behind the wheel talking on a cell phone. She turned her head just enough that he could see most of her face.

“I’m sorry but I don’t have a phonebook in my purse. Call information, why don’t you?”

His mouth dropped open. He snapped it closed.

“Ma’am, I’m sitting in the parking lot of O’Malley’s with a flat tire --”

The woman in the other car started then turned to face him fully. Even across twelve dark parking spaces he could see the surprise on her face. He got out of his car and walked around to the passenger side and pointed at his front tire.

“See? It’s really flat.”

“Um, I see that.”

Luke hopped up to sit on the hood of his car and waved at her. “Hi. I’m Luke.”

          She held up her hand and wiggled her fingers at him, waving back. “Hi. I’m Chere."

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ 

Loving Luke is available at:





Monday, September 14, 2015

Loving Luke - cover reveal

Tonight is a hit and run post. I'm working on getting Loving Luke uploaded and I wanted to quickly share the cover with you. I'll be back later in the week with more information about Loving Luke.

Rayne




Thursday, August 20, 2015

Forgotten gems

After several lifetimes, I have a new work in progress. And having something new to work on inevitably leads me to the "pause" stage, or the halfway point. This is where I step back and re-read from the beginning before setting the outline for the rest of the story. 

That doesn't mean I'm sitting on my hands doing nothing. A few days ago I opened the folder for Money Back Guarantee. It got some great reviews - 5 Kisses from the old Two Lips Reviews. I gave it a read and was amazed at how clean the old manuscript is, a true forgotten gem. 

It didn't take much to go through it and tighten up a few passages. Then the search for stock for the cover ensued. I've been looking at this for two evenings and I think it's going to be a go as soon as I skip on over to iStock and buy the kissing couple. I like to do a mock-up and look at it a bit before I plunk down my money. I think it makes sense. 

While reading Money Back Guarantee, it struck me what a jewel the story truly is. Our hero is a strong man, but not a chest-thumping Neanderthal. Our heroine is mentally tough and all lady until it's time to not be a lady. They never question that they are equals and they never treat each other as anything else. 

This gem deserves to shine again. I'll be back in a few days with the real cover, an excerpt, and purchase information. Check back!

Rayne
rayneforrest.blogspot.com
twitter.com/rayneforrest


Wednesday, August 5, 2015

IWSG - The once and future writer

Way back in 2003 I signed my first publishing contract. It was 9:00 PM when the email came in and I screamed loud enough to make my partner jump out of his chair and come back the hall to the computer room (as we called it in those days).

No, I didn't see a mouse, dear. Someone is actually going to publish The Skies of Mahdis. 

And so it began. I had a very successful writing career up until the Triskelion Publishing debacle. Excuse me. They called it bankruptcy. RAYNE calls it a debacle. Same damn difference.

The debacle happened at the end of a very trying personal time. My beloved partner had, we prayed, been successfully treated for cancer. It's an insidious disease. Even after almost nine years we panic if he gets a cold or some weird symptom. Anyway, I was already mentally and emotionally exhausted and the debacle was pretty much the last straw.

I shifted gears and took on a new name and a new genre. Was it a "cut and run?" Yes, it was. I needed to write and I needed the stress free environment of anonymity. It's been a successful cut and run, though. I started over without telling anyone other than author Brenda Williamson what I was doing. I submitted the first story and it was immediately accepted.

Huh. Maybe I really do have some small talent at this writing stuff. But the world has turned.

Publishing isn't what it once was. Going indie is no-longer the kiss of death to the serious writer. Yet even as indie authors bask in the new freedoms, the screw tightens to control them. Amazon, the land of indie opportunity, keeps changing the game. Our, ahem, illustrious, government does nothing to control piracy.

I have a nice collection of completed stories sitting on my hard drive. I've already re-edited a few, learned some basic photoshop techniques, created a few simple covers, and indie published them. I might even indie publish The Skies of Mahdis and come full circle. 

It's daunting to be effectively starting over yet again. I question if, knowing so much more about the publishing industry, I can do it. 

Will I be as successful (or at least my definition of the word) in 2015 and forward as I was a decade ago? I don't know. Do I need it to be to be happy? Probably not. I simply know that as the once and future writer, I'll figure it out as I go. 

That's what all of us do, one step at a time. 

Thanks for stopping in here at Twenty-six Keys as part of the IWSG blog hop. 

Rayne
http://www.rayneforrest.com
www.twitter.com/RayneForrest

Saturday, August 1, 2015

Rayne's Ramblings: What camp will you be in?

Blogs are strange beasts, each as individual as the blogger themselves. You can’t run a Google search without finding a blog on your chosen topic. Blogs are freedom of speech at its best – and sometimes, worst.

With Google alerts set on a variety of topics, I’m treated to a handful of new blogs every day. Some days I simply can’t take the time to read any of them, but I generally look at one or two when I have a quiet moment. Lately I’ve noticed an uncomfortable trend in blogs – bashing.

The Internet is populated by only twelve people and eleven of them have a gzillion screen names each.  I wouldn’t kid you about that. It has to be. I must be the only person who represents myself as only the writer and the “real me.” That’s all the multiple personality disorder I can do. The other eleven people are taking over all the bandwidths.

Okay. I’m being silly. My point is that the Internet provides a never before enjoyed anonymity to everyone. So…does our anonymity give us permission to post truly hurtful things about another person? I think not.

Things blogged about today will live on for no one knows how long. The Internet grows new storage every day. Five years. Fifteen? Fifty? It’s anyone’s guess how big the cloud will grow. The dregs of thought and spirit, and the enlightened and wonderful reside side-by-side. In a hundred years, what will future generations decide most realistically reflects those of us blogging today?  The nasty or the delightful?

I can’t speak for you, but I know which camp I want to be in.

Rayne Forrest

Saturday, April 25, 2015

Right From the Start by Rayne Forrest

Starting on the journey to get my stories back out in the world has been interesting on so many levels. Yes, I'm learning a lot, which is always a good thing, and I'm being challenged, also a good thing, but the experience has affirmed how far I've come since the early days. It's been satisfying to open up an old manuscript and apply improved technical skills to the prose. It doesn't change the story at all, but it makes it a bit more enjoyable. -Rayne

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Right From the Start 


Dana Myerly believes in helping out a neighbor in need. One rainy Monday she aids a stranded fellow motorist. She finds herself drawn to a big smile, friendly hazel eyes, and a tight pair of blue jeans. Coerced into yet another blind date by two of her friends, Dana finds her luck has changed and her date is her stranded motorist, Randy Walker.

Dana and Randy share an immediate connection, but how do you know if it’s love…and he’s the one.. Right From the Start?

EXCERPT 
Dana was approaching her car when a man’s voice called out behind her. It startled her and she almost stumbled. Then she recognized it. Randy.
“Hey, wait up!” he called.
“Don’t scare me like that!” she exclaimed, heart racing. She made a sweeping motion over the dark parking lot.
“Sorry,” he said as he fell into step beside her. “I didn’t stop and think about that,” he admitted. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“Who’ll protect me from you?” Not that she wanted protected from him. Her heart still pounded, and not with surprise or fear.
“You think I’m the big, bad wolf?” he asked, laughing.
“What if I am?” she answered glibly. She sensed a subtle shift in his walk. He got a little closer and she caught a whiff of his after-shave. Her nipples tingled and hardened. This was getting way out of hand.
She really didn’t want to react to him this way. Her belly tightened. A sweet ache began, sending tendrils of desire snaking through her.
“I think maybe I’d like that.” They’d reached her car and his hand covered hers as she reached for the door handle.
His touch jolted through her and her senses expanded to him. Her vulva pulsed faster than her heartbeat and that was racing. She turned her head to look up at him and her eyes widened. She had only that split second warning before his lips touched hers.
Every nerve in her body woke up and clamored for attention. His attention.
His lips were soft, almost gentle. Almost. Some feminine sense told her if they weren’t in a parking lot, his kiss would be all demand. She shushed the voice of reason and raised her arms around his neck and leaned back against her car. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his hips to hers.
He teased her lips open, gently touching the tip of his tongue to hers. She melted. She hated when men tried to choke her with their tongues. Randy didn’t. He teased lightly. He nibbled on her lower lip. His lips traveled down her throat.
Not that she was able to fully concentrate on those clever lips. She was concentrating on the action happening lower down. He was getting hard. He was pressed so firmly against her she would feel him pulsing and swelling, lengthening and hardening. She fought the urge to lift her legs and wrap them around him. He seemed to know.
“Do it,” he urged, a husky voice in her ear. “Do it. Let me feel your heat.”

- - - - - 
Right From the Start is available now at Amazon. 

Sunday, March 29, 2015

Indie Publishing: Lessons Learned So Far

When I decided to indie publish my old backlist I didn't realize two things - how much there was to learn and how much I'd enjoy the process. Yes, process is quite an overused word these days but the language can be limiting. That's the only word that fits. 

The biggest adventure so far has been learning how to photoshop pictures. I'm not an expert, nor will I ever be, and that's okay. Sure the cover of a book is the first thing a reader sees. The second is the price. Well, maybe some folks see the price first and that's okay. I've been known to purchase a "try me" book for 99-cents, too. Anyway, learning to create covers is a lot of hard work but each new tool discovered ups my level of enjoyment with the software. 

Now comes the time to confess what I really like about going indie and something the naysayers might want to think about. Perhaps if I'd thought about it sooner, I'd have begun this new phase of my career a few years ago. 

It's a topic always discussed in private author circles. Is my publisher paying me for every copy sold? How do I know if they're not? It's an unfortunate reality the author doesn't know if she/he is being cheated. 

Yes, most (but not all) publishers are honest and most contracts have clauses that state the author can request an audit of her/his sales records but the author has to pay for it. Please believe me when I tell you only the lucky few are making enough money to pay for a forensic audit and those chosen ones are the few the publishers wouldn't dare fuck with because they do have the money. So what's one of the little people to do? Publish a few indie books.

When you become your own publisher you suddenly have access to sales reports direct from places like Amazon, All Romance eBooks, Barnes and Noble, Kobo - any online bookseller you hook up with. How does this help? Here goes. I'll try to make it simple.

Say I go to All Romance eBooks and search for Rayne Forrest. The results come up and I sort them by best selling and make a note of the day and the order of the books. Then I log into my publisher account and get the numbers of sales per book. Say I do this every day for the quarter and at the end of the quarter my indie book, which as been ranked as my third seller for the last several months has sold 100 copies. This means the two books above it have each sold more than 100 copies. I then get my royalty report from ARE. 

Books number 1 and 2 had better show sales of over 100 copies each, eh? Okay, they might only show 95, which would be close enough for me to know all is well. One thing I don't know is how many people bought a book and then returned it after they read it. (The practice of doing that is a blog for another day - after I learn a few more curse phrases.)

Is it a cumbersome lot of work to track sales this way? Absolutely. Will it give you enough money to pay for an audit, if necessary? Nope. It won't. But it might tell you it's time to look for another publishing house to handle your work.

And that's the bottom line here. Your books are your work. You license them to someone else to do the publishing end. You need to know if you're being treated honestly and an independent sales report is simply one more tool to that end. 

Rayne
http://www.rayneforrest.com

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

When it rains... go indie

This has been an unusual winter. We expect cold - got it. We expect snow - got it. We expect many days to be breezy but yet sunny - nope. Didn’t happen.

It’s been the topic of conversation in the office for several months. No one remembers being without sunshine for so many days in a row. It’s, well, it’s depressing.

A few years ago a lot was written about the link between the lack of sunshine and depression. While I don’t think I get clinically depressed, I do sort of go into a hibernation mode during the winter. Sleep is preferable to just about anything else.

Somehow this year I survived both the gray, dreary days and the urge to hibernate. I’m not sure how, but I’m not looking this “gift horse” in the mouth. I’m taking it for what it is.

I’ve spent this winter going over manuscripts and learning new things about self-publishing. My account at All Romance eBooks was just approved and I hope to get Mischief at Midnight and To Bed a Spy uploaded with the next few days. After that, it’s time to move on to other outlets.

The ability to have control over my work is exhilarating. It’s not that I think publishers are dishonest, but I do think the writer, on whom this ENTIRE industry depends, is not treated equitably. Without the writer, the publishing industry collapses. Somehow it’s come to be believed the publisher makes the author’s career. Um, no. The ability to tell a good story makes the author. It should be a symbiotic relationship and it is with the really great publishers. 

It's been an eye-opener to discover I can do for myself everything a publisher does, but could I have done this without the experience of being with nine different publishers over the years? Nope. I still think a publisher is a good idea for someone new to the industry. 

Take advantage of the opportunity to learn from publishers and editors. Bite the bullet and commit to a few years of having your work under contract. Remember nothing in this business worth the effort happens overnight. There are no shortcuts. You're either in it for the long haul or you should stop now. And if you're in it for the long run, don't shut off any avenue of forward progress. 

Think about it. 

Rayne
www.rayneforrest.com