Category Archives: Uncategorized

Re/Leased–So that’s the way it’s going to be? @MZurloAuthor #romanticsuspense

This is the fifth book in the fan favorite Doms of the FBI series. If you haven’t stumbled upon this series yet, this book stands alone, though characters from previous books do appear in it.


released 500Honoring a promise he made to his late mother, David Eastridge, part owner of SAFE Security, returns home one final time—to help his father find the culprit responsible for embezzling three million dollars from his company. It should be an easy job—his father already has a suspect in mind.

After a series of tragic events that robbed her of a father and put her sister in a coma, Autumn Sullivan was forced to take on several jobs just to get by. She’s an accounting assistant by day, an occasional service Domme on the weekend, and a thief-for-hire by night.

David’s strategy of hiring Autumn—as a submissive—backfires when he finds himself enchanted by her sense of humor and playful attitude. Determined to prove her innocence, he enlists the help of Malcolm Legato and Agent Keith Rossetti to dig deeper. This enigmatic submissive is openly hiding things from him. Her secretive nature and the bread crumbs she drops about her past don’t add up—not even when he assigns Jesse Foraker, his SAFE Security buddy—to tail her and search her apartment. None of them are prepared for what the FBI uncovers.

Falling in love wasn’t in the plan, but David makes her believe that she isn’t doomed to live a solitary life. Plunged into a world of lies and espionage—with a serial killer after her—Autumn is forced to come to terms with her past if she is to have any hope of a future with David.

Warnings: BDSM party games, sex toys, bondage, flogging, spanking, and a trip to the beach

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Blitz Tour Excerpt 3:

He released her arm and stepped away. “Take off your shoes. You can put them on the rug next to the door.”

It wasn’t a request, and he didn’t bother pretending it was something it wasn’t. A surprised laugh, short and dry, escaped. “You’re already giving orders?”


It had been a long, long time since she’d allowed anyone to dominate her. Sure, she’d bottomed for him, but it wasn’t the same thing, and she wasn’t sure how much and what kind of control she was ceding. Still, trust had to start somewhere. “So, that’s the way it’s going to be with us, is it?”

“Unless you object.”

She didn’t want to object. No part of her was against this, and her intuition chimed in with full support. She slipped out of her heels, and now when she faced him, she had to tilt her face up even more. “I don’t object.”

A soft smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Good. We’re on the same page. Have you eaten?”

While she frequently grabbed something not memorable on her way to or from the nursing home, she hadn’t today. “Not yet.”

“Good. I made dinner.” Taking her hand, he led her to the sliding door. “It’s a nice night. We’ll eat on the patio.” He pulled out a chair and helped her sit. “Wine?”

Remembering the terms she’d unwittingly laid out the night before, a shiver of anticipation did cartwheels up her spine. “Are you hoping I kiss you before I leave?”

His eyelids fell to half-mast, and his light brown eyes became mesmerizing liquid pools. “I’m counting on it.”


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Twitter: @MZurloAuthor

Kissing Bandits Blitz: The Sound of Running Horses by Donna Ball

The Sound of Running Horses by Donna Ball


BB_TheSoundOfRunningHorses_Banner copyStill recovering from the traumatic events of the past year, newlyweds Aggie Malone, police chief of Dogleg Island, and Deputy Sheriff Ryan Grady are looking forward to a carefree day of picnics, pirates and buried treasure with their precocious—and uncannily perceptive– border collie, Flash. But when Flash discovers a body in a shallow grave on the deserted Wild Horse Island Nature Preserve, a tangled knot of conspiracy, murder and deception begins to unfold, revealing that the things that are buried are often the most dangerous and the only pirates you have to fear are the ones that live next door.

Fifteen hundred miles away, an ex-con and a fifteen year old girl embark upon a crime spree that will earn them the nicknames “Bonnie and Clyde”. As they make their way inexorably south, Aggie, Grady and Flash are thrust into the middle of a murder investigation that leads to the arrest of one of their neighbors and the attempted suicide of another. When a search of the dead girl’s belongings reveals a priceless emerald bracelet and two of the islands most popular residents go missing, the puzzle becomes even more complicated. Grady and Aggie struggle to put all the pieces into place while Flash, ever obsessed with understanding the human condition, wrestles with a more painful dilemma: how do you tell the good guys from the bad guys when they are so often the same person?

Excerpt One:

MediaKit_BookCover_TheSoundOfRunningHorsesFinding things, for Flash, was not difficult.  Sometimes the things he found were useful to Aggie, like car keys or missing socks or a stick with blood on it.   Sometimes they were not so useful, like broken beer bottles in the sand or bad-smelling toads in the back yard.  But for the most part he liked finding things—except for the things that were buried.  The bad things were almost always buried.  And finding them never made anyone happy.

He pawed at the wet, loose sand until he found what he knew was there, then stepped back, waiting for Aggie, feeling unhappy.  When she got there she looked down, and he heard her catch her breath with a choked, wet sound.  The weight of the unhappiness was so heavy then that Flash sank to the ground, his head between his paws.  Aggie knelt beside him, resting a hand on his fur, her breath coming fast and shallow.

“Oh, Flash,” she whispered.

Grady demanded from the telephone,  “What?  Is Flash okay?  What happened?”

Flash had uncovered a scrap of fabric, too dirty now to determine its original color or purpose.  And attached to the fabric, also black with dirt and the beginning of deterioration, was a human hand.

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

MediaKit_AuthorPhoto_TheSoundOfRunningHorsesDonna Ball is the author of over a hundred novels under several different pseudonyms in a variety of genres that include romance, mystery, suspense, paranormal, western adventure, historical and women’s fiction. Recent popular series include the Ladybug Farm series by Berkley Books and the Raine Stockton Dog Mystery series. Donna is an avid dog lover and her dogs have won numerous titles for agility, obedience and canine musical freestyle. She divides her time between the Blue Ridge mountains  and the east coast of Florida, where she lives with a variety of four-footed companions. You can contact her at

The Sound of Running Horses, Book Two in the Dogleg Island Mystery series, is available July 15 2016 in paperback, and for Kindle and Nook.  Buy it from here:

Enter to win a $25 Amazon/BN GC – a Rafflecopter giveaway

Michele Zurlo’s News July 2

This has been one hectic week! I finished first round revisions of Re/Viewed (DFBI 6), and then I sent it off to my editor/Wife. She’ll rip it to shreds in the next few weeks and get that back to me in early August. I also spent some time at the day job (who was under the impression that teachers got summers off?) and with the family. It’s important to make time for family!

Re/Leased has been out six days, and I’m hearing lots of great things from people who’ve liked it. One of the things I love is to hear from readers, whether it’s good or not. I’ve had readers drop a quick line to tell me they liked something, readers who’ve written longer and more personal letters, and some who’ve taken me to task for making decisions they didn’t like. I treasure all those letters. It means that what I wrote meant something to someone else. I know that can happen without me knowing about it (I’ve never written to a writer even though I’ve been touched by a number of the books I’ve read), but I do love to hear feedback. It kind of validates the hundreds (thousands?) of hours I spent creating that piece. So thank you for writing! It means a lot.

The last big thing I accomplished this week (besides not running out of Dove chocolate) was to brainstorm the first book in the upcoming SAFE Security series. If you took anything away from Re/Leased, one of those things was that Autumn and David still have a lot of work ahead of them! The first book will feature the next leg of their journey down this rocky road. If you have requests, now is the time to make them!

And that’s what’s happened this week. To my friends in Canada and the US, have a safe and happy holiday weekend!

Love, Michele

Kissing Bandits Welcomes M.S. Spencer

M. S. Spencer: The Interview


KB: Welcome to Kissing Bandits Blog! Tell us a little bit about yourself!

M.S. Spencer: Thank you so much for having me, ye Kissing Bandits! Me, huh? Okay. Although I’ve lived or traveled in every continent except Antarctica and Australia (bucket list), and spent more time than was good for me in academia, for the last thirty years I’ve been in Washington, D.C. I’ve enjoyed life as a librarian, Congressional staff assistant, speechwriter, editor, birdwatcher, kayaker, policy wonk, non-profit director and parent. Since 2007 I’ve published ten romantic suspense/mystery novels, nine of which have recently been re-released as second editions. Blessed with two fabulous grown children and an adorable grandchild, I now divide my time between the Florida Gulf coast and a tiny hamlet in Maine.

KB: Tell us a little bit about your most recent release.

M. S. Spencer Author (3)M.S. Spencer: My latest release, the romantic suspense/murder mystery The Mason’s Mark: Love and Death in the Tower, rose in part out of a true story. Starting in the 1940s an Italian named Licio Gelli embarked on a lifetime of bizarre scams and crimes. Gelli is most famous for founding a Masonic lodge called Propaganda Due, a renegade group that was erased by the Grand Orient of Italy for corruption. He is the model for the shadowy puppetmaster in The Mason’s Mark.

The setting for the Mason’s Mark, the George Washington Masonic Memorial, stands nine stories tall atop Shuter’s Hill in Alexandria, Virginia. The rooms get gradually smaller as you go up the levels, and the elevators that begin 61 feet apart on the first floor are only four and a half feet apart by the time you reach the ninth level. So, in the tiny space housing a replica of Solomon’s throne room on the ninth floor, it would be difficult to hide a body. Or a murderer.

The fourth floor contains a museum dedicated to George Washington. Washington served as the Charter (first) Master of the Alexandria lodge, and many of his letters and memorabilia are housed here, including the Washington family Bible. Since our heroine and hero meet in the museum, it follows that the Mason’s Mark would involve long lost papers, distant family scandals, and academic intrigue concerning our first President.

Here’s the blurb:

In both the best and worst first day at work ever, docent Claire Wilding meets  TheMasonsMarkLoveandDeathintheTower_M. S. Spencerthe man of her dreams, but her carefully rehearsed guided tour of the George Washington National Masonic Memorial collapses when she discovers a body and is drawn into a dark world of black ops and Italian renegade masons, of secret cabals and hidden treasure. Also cloaked in mystery is handsome Gideon Bliss, a George Washington expert who haunts the Memorial, his manner evasive. What is his secret? Claire fears she’ll fall in love with him only to learn he’s a thief or even a murderer. Juggling two eccentric mothers, an inquisitive sister, and an increasingly smitten detective, Claire must find answers to a complex web of intrigue, including who to trust and who to love.

KB: If you could have drinks with anybody (real/fiction, living/dead,) who would you choose and why? What would be the topic of conversation?

M.S. Spencer: So many…but I would choose Benjamin Franklin. For one thing, he loved beer! More important, there are so many topics he could expound upon. I’d love to hear his insights on journalism (it was pretty rough and tumble in his day), on the birth of our nation, on American relations with France, on the art of invention. Like Jefferson, he was well versed in so many areas. And he was wise. Of course, it might end up more an interview than a conversation…unless, as I suspect, he’d want to hear about the state of our country and the world today.

KB: What is something nobody would guess about you?

M.S. Spencer: That, with all the gorgeous men populating my books, not to mention many relationships over the decades, I am still desperately seeking my soul mate. Could be because I’m so weird. When I was young my family lived in many countries and my main companions were books. By the time I returned to the U.S. for high school, I didn’t fit in at all. I had experiences and knowledge that my classmates were unfamiliar with, and I had no clue what current fads were. I was considered rather an odd duck—so much so that I even had a blind date to the senior prom!

KB: Share a funny or ironic anecdote.

M.S. Spencer: I had been dating George for three years. He was married before and reluctant to take the plunge again, so our relationship was subject to lots of fits and starts. Now, there was a house around the corner from his that had always fascinated us. It had a huge, hand-hewn stone fireplace, a beautiful Japanese garden, and a swimming pool. One day it went up for sale, but was soon sold. I didn’t think much about it—at the time I didn’t see any future for George and me. Then one day, as we drove by the neighborhood, I made the totally idle comment that if the house ever went up for sale again, George would have to marry me. We had a good laugh.

You might guess what happened next. Well, the look on George’s face when he saw the FOR SALE sign was worth all the years of wishing and hoping and planning and dreaming. Even more delicious was the squirming, the hemming, the hawing, the blowing out of cheeks. Suffice it to say, he proposed that day.

KB: You can find M. S. Spencer at these sites:




Google +:


Linked in:

I Heart Book Publishing:

The Wild Rose Press:

Romance Books 4 Us (you can find my schedule of events here): OR

Amazon Author Page:

KB: M. S. Spencer has the following titles out. They are available in ebook and print-on-demand from all fine on-line book stores, including IBooks, Barnes and Noble, and All Romance E books. She has provided the Amazon buy link for your convenience.

The Mason’s Mark: Love and Death in the Tower:

The Penhallow Train Incident:

Mai Tais and Mayhem: Murder at Mote Marine (a Sarasota Romance):


Dear Philomena: Love, Lust and Murder on Chincoteague Island:


Coming July 20: Artful Dodging: the Torpedo Factory Murders (an Old Town Romance)

Coming in August: Whirlwind Romance

Pre-Order Re/Defined

Re/Defined (Doms of the FBI 4) is now available for pre-order at Amazon.  This is Amy and Jordan’s story, full of spine-melting sex and dangerous suspense that’ll keep you at the edge of your seat. It will officially be available on January 18, 2016. Don’t worry–it’ll be available through Barnes and Noble and All Romance eBooks on the 18th. So if you prefer Nook or PDF, don’t worry.

Link to Amazon for pre-order.

Here’s a tantalizing excerpt to whet your appetite:

Did she want steak or lasagna, or did she want to let Jordan tie her up and do things that belonged to the mysterious Sensory Play category? Amy frowned as she lined up her shot for the sixteenth hole. He was putting no pressure on her at all. After they’d finished their ice cream, he hadn’t brought it up. She felt his touch on her hip, pushing it into alignment to improve her aim. Relaxing, she let him correct her stance. “Thanks.”

“You’re getting better. By the end of the course, you’ll have it down.”

It had occurred to her that she could continue doing it wrong just so he’d keep touching her, but then, she reasoned, he’d eventually give up, and she’d still be doing it wrong. She hit the ball a little too hard, and it sailed past the cup. “Darn.”

“Not bad. Don’t be so hard on yourself. You came close, and that’s an improvement.” He lined up his shot and sank it neatly.

“Would we negotiate everything beforehand? Plan out every detail?”

“No.” He didn’t pretend to not know she’d changed the topic. “If you had any experience, then yes, we could do that. For this, I’d try a few different things so you could decide what you do and don’t like.”

She thought about that as she tapped her ball into the cup. “What if I don’t like it?”

He retrieved their balls. “You’re familiar with the concept of safewords.”

She didn’t have the sense he’d asked a question, more that he wanted her to explain what she knew. “I know the stoplight system. Red halts everything. Yellow pauses the scene for communication, adjustments, and bathroom breaks.” Once she’d come to accept that the BDSM lifestyle wasn’t a form of abuse, her sister had opened up about many of nitty-gritty details. And she’d heard the guys talk about being dominant. They took the safety precaution aspects of it very seriously.

“So you’ll have safewords. I’ll be talking to you a lot so you’ll know you’re not alone.”

It hadn’t occurred to her that he would leave her alone when she was in a vulnerable position. She set her ball on the tee, lined up the shot, and took a swing. It rounded the bank perfectly, bounced twice from the edges of the narrowed curve that linked the two parts of this tricky hole together, avoided the waterfall, and went straight into the cup. Her draw dropped. She looked at Jordan, her eyes so wide she felt they might pop out. “You saw that, right?”

He wore a wide grin. “Your stance was perfect.”

Dropping her putter, she clapped her hands over her heart. “A hole in one. I never thought I’d be able to do that.”

He hugged her with one arm and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You can do anything you set your mind to, little one.”

“Yes.” She didn’t necessarily agree with him, but she was no longer talking about her amazing feat. “I want to try it with you.”

“All right. Let’s finish this, and then I’ll take you to my place.”

She’d never been to his place. It made sense that they’d go to his apartment because that’s where his equipment would be located. The drive took a little time because he lived two counties away. They mostly chatted about movies and television shows. She figured he wanted to keep the conversation light to put her at ease.

His apartment was exactly like Jamie had described—pristine and sanitary. Amy chalked that up to his modern décor. There was too much shiny metal and not enough color. It could use some fabric and softness to make it homey. Normally she wouldn’t judge anybody’s home, but this seemed so unlike Jordan. Standing there in a black fitted shirt and worn jeans, his face scruffy from a day’s growth, he didn’t seem to fit. The lack of color was him, but the sharpness of the furniture reminded her that perhaps she didn’t know him all that well.

“What do you think?”

“It’s clean.” She wasn’t going to say anything critical, not to a guy who was planning to tie her up.

He frowned. “You don’t like it.”

“It’s fine. I just pictured your place with more leather, and maybe framed photos of your family on the walls.”

He gestured to the sofa. It was the kind with an exposed metal frame and thin cushions for the seat and back. “It’s more comfortable than it looks. Take off your dress and sit down.”

She hadn’t expected him to say that. She looked at her bright yellow sundress, the only spot of real color in the room. “You want me to get undressed? In here?”

“I need to do a few things before we can begin. If you need to freshen up, the bathroom is the down the hall, first door on the left. When I return, I expect to see that you’ve followed orders.”

Orders. His tone had shifted, becoming harder and more commanding. This was definitely his Dom tone. A shiver of anticipation ran up her spine. Finally, being with a Dom seemed right. “Should I call you Sir or something?”

“Let’s hold off on titles for now.” He disappeared down the hall.

Amy made use of the bathroom. She combed her fingers through her hair and redid her ponytail, and then she checked to make sure she didn’t have anything weird going on with the parts of her skin that would be exposed. Standing in front of the mirror wearing only her bra and underwear was a sobering experience. Though she’d worn her prettiest, laciest underthings, there was no way Jordan was interested in her as anything more than a friend. With a sigh, she hung her dress on a hook on the back of the door. He found her a few minutes later perched on the edge of the sofa, which was surprisingly comfortable, without her dress.

He sat down next to her, but he leaned back and stretched his arm along the back. “What’s your color?”

She stared at her hands, folded neatly on her lap, and hoped he hadn’t meant for her to be completely naked. “Green.”

Re/Claimed is Here!

The wait is over. The long-awaited third book in the Doms of the FBI series is finally here! Re/Claimed is Dustin and Layla’s story.

Buy from Amazon/FREE on KU

Layla’s wicked fantasies had already caused problems that left her with deep emotional scars, so when she got a second chance to live them out, she insisted on strict rules and boundaries.

Dustin agreed to abide by Layla’s rules because that’s the only way he could have her, but after a while, it wasn’t enough. He wanted the whole woman—the impulsive, stubborn parts as well as her sweet, generous side—and so he insists she give him a fair chance to prove he’s worthy of her love. He’s over the moon when she agrees to date him, even if she insists on a vanilla relationship.

Complicating matters is the return of her abusive ex-Master, a kidnapped child, and a human trafficking ring that’s been targeting teens from the community center Layla runs. When the investigation turns up nothing, Layla takes desperate measures that put her and Dustin in danger.

In Re/Claimed (Doms of the FBI 3), Michele Zurlo delivers another hot, heartwrenching, and stunning BDSM romantic suspense tale.

Warnings: D/s, kidnap/breaking-and-entering fantasy play, impact play, bondage, spanking, anal play, electric play, and some seriously sexy kinky footwear

Word Count: 87,000

Story Excerpt:

Dustin wanted to be her boyfriend. He wanted to date her. Go steady. Be an item. It seemed both juvenile and momentous.

After Brodie, the man she’d thought would fill the roles of friend, lover, and Master, had proven to be not at all the person she’d thought he was, she had sworn off dating a Dom. The liberties he’d taken—and forced her to consent to—still gave her nightmares. Memories snuck up on her at the oddest  times, battering her with intense waves of humiliation that stole her confidence and sense of self.

Yes, Dustin was a good man—much too good for her. Once he found out about the things she’d allowed Brodie to make her do, he would gently break her heart and run as far as he could go.

Dustin’s palm pressed against hers, warm and firm, tangible proof that she was about to take a step forward. Right now, she had paused in a figurative half-step, her foot hovering uncertainly in the air. Once she put her foot down and shifted her weight, the ground behind her would fall away, leaving her forever teetering on the precipice.

Full disclosure. She should warn him of the consequences to his actions.

“Dustin, if you’re serious about this, I think you should know that I date vanilla.”

He didn’t move. She lifted her gaze from the floor to find him staring at her curiously. Was she nervous? Utterly. She stared back, her manner appropriately sober.


No need to go into the details or give voice to uncomfortable memories. “BDSM scenes are fun, but they’re not what I’m looking for in a long-term relationship. If I ever settle down, I want a husband, not a Master.” Nobody was ever going to order or coerce her into doing anything she didn’t want to do. Not again.

He brushed his thumb back and forth over her wrist, evidence that he was both considering and bothered by her assertion. “Can’t you have both?”

Once she’d thought it possible. Brodie had proven her theory wrong. “No. A husband is a partner. A Master is the boss. That’s exciting, but impractical for the long haul. I just think you should know my views on the issue before you decide to change lanes.” Silence fell in a heavy, oppressive blanket, but she didn’t attempt to alleviate it with mindless chatter, further explanation, or false assurances.

Finally his head bobbed a brief nod, indicating he’d arrived at a conclusion. “So you’re thinking that we’ll eventually get married?”

Adult Excerpt:

Other friends and members of the family had arrived, and the house rang with conversation, laughter, and the squeals of small children. The bathroom on the main floor never seemed to be free, so Layla headed up the stairs. Perhaps it was a little on the rude side to use their private restroom, but it was an emergency. Just to be stealthy, she relied on the ambient light coming up the steps to find her way around.

On the way out, a hand clamped over her mouth, and she found herself pressed back against a hard body. Though her heart raced, she recognized Dustin immediately, so she didn’t struggle. Excitement bubbled through her veins, but this was the wrong time and place for a scene. She hadn’t seen him all afternoon, and she had no idea why he would attempt something like this now—especially after his polite reception.

She cooperated as he pulled her into a spare bedroom. He closed the door. In the scant streetlight that filtered through the curtains, she could make out the shape of a bed near the window of Darcy’s guest room.

Dustin shoved her face-first against the wall. He used his weight to hold her in place, and she felt one hand work the button and zipper on her jeans. She grabbed at his hand, trying to halt his actions.

It didn’t work. If he felt her protest, he completely ignored her. He plunged his hand down the front of her pants, cupping her mound. Behind her, he ground his hard cock against her ass.

Adrenaline kicked through her veins for two reasons. First, she desperately didn’t want to be caught. Second, the sheer naughtiness set her juices flowing. She surrendered to the second feeling for several gluttonous moments. Then her better sense kicked in and she renewed her struggle.

She landed a couple lucky kicks to his shins, but that didn’t stop him. The loud thunk of her foot hitting the wall halted his actions.

He rested his body against hers, pinning her to the wall. Breathing heavily into her neck, he shook his head. “If you can’t be quiet, then everybody downstairs will know what a kinky little slut you are because I’m not going to stop. I’m going to fuck you, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

She knew this man, but taking him out of context also moved her out of her comfort zone. His vehement reassurance calmed her nerves enough for her to concentrate on the way her clit pulsed against his palm.

As her heartbeat calmed, she nodded consent. He eased his hand away from her mouth.

She inhaled a huge breath and licked her lips. “I think you might want to keep it there.” The more she enjoyed sex, the louder she became.

He chuckled as he pushed her jeans and panties down. In seconds, she felt his bare cock sliding toward her pussy. He guided it into her hot and dripping cunt, stretching and filling her in a way that made her feel possessed.

She braced her hands against the wall. Her jeans imprisoned her legs. She couldn’t spread them to gain leverage. Caught between clothing and his weight, she was forced to stand still and accept whatever he wanted to do to her. Nothing turned her on more.

Over and over, he stabbed her sweet spot. It didn’t take long for the hot coil tightening inside her abdomen to burst. He clamped his hand over her mouth to muffle the noises, and he buried his face in her neck as jets of his semen shot into her pussy.

They stayed that way for nearly a minute, and she suspected he was trying for a brief cuddle—something else she’s prohibited. Then he stepped away from her, fixed his clothes, and reached for the doorknob.

“What are you doing?” She scrambled to pull up her jeans.

He laughed, but she heard his bitterness. “What you want me to do.” With that, he exited the room, closing the door behind him.

She leaned against the wall that had just cradled her body. For the first time, she felt empty and dissatisfied after his departure.

Link to Re/Claimed on Lost Goddess Publishing (where you’ll find additional buy links for BN and ARe.)

Attention: Letting Go Fans

I’m working through revisions for a reissue for when rights are returned to me next Feb/March. I’m changing some things–well I’m changing quite a lot of things (like making it first person and expanding that last scene). Question–Some sex is alluded to, especially their first summer together and when she takes him on a tour of sex clubs. Would you like to see that become explicit? It would lengthen the book. Also, would you like to see it released as one novel or in serial form?

Pity Purchases

Follow that link…

Lately I’ve seen a lot of posts about writers dying or in the hospital with an appeal to buy their books to show support. I don’t think it’s insensitive of me to question this practice. I’m not the most “with it” person, but none of these appeals have been attached to people I’ve heard of. Their success seems to be completely tied to their illness or injury. Are they even legitimately ill?

And more importantly: Would you buy the book if the writer wasn’t experiencing publicized unfortunate circumstances?

Pity purchases seem to be the trend, and I find it disgusting. Lots of people experience tragedy. Many writers get sick, break bones, get into car accidents, find cancer, or worse. Almost none of them publicize it. Asking for pity purchases lacks integrity. Two years ago, I suffered a horrible accident that left me unable to write. It took all my concentration and energy to make it through each day. I took a 4-month break from writing because focusing on my day job was all I could handle. I didn’t post my problem or ask for pity purchases. I didn’t even talk about it until I had recovered.

If the only way you can sell a novel is by putting it out there as a pity purchase, you need to get out of the writing business. Your “success” is fleeting, lasting only as long as Facebook keeps your meme/message alive. I could use a boost in sales–I still need to replace my windows and doors. We all would welcome more people buying and reading our work. However I don’t want that to happen through pity. I want it to happen because people like my books and tell others about them. Cancer runs in my family, and I’m going to tell you right now that if I get cancer, I’d want you to donate to a research charity. Buying my books won’t cure me, and pity doesn’t cheer me up.