Yes, it’s release day for Hard to Protect and that’s very exciting (scary, too), so I’m posting a few teasers to give you a flavour of what to expect from Will Berwick and Angel Treherne.
But…but…but… Hard to Protect is but one of seven fabulous books Entangled Publishing release today. A shout out is merited for each and every new title. Just click on each image for details. ENJOY!
It's hellish hard getting heard. That's one of the harshest realities authors face. Especially with the wealth of good advice out there on how to get your book noticed, because so sound is that advice that we all follow it. Which only adds to the din above which it is damn hard to be heard. Some beat back defeat by throwing coin--terrific, if you have sufficient to spare. Some shout and rely on the echo effect--book blogs and tours, the support of fans and friends to spread the word via Facebook shares, re-tweets, reviews. Others network their arses off at events and in groups, both in person and on line. Newsletters fly out, slumbering blogs get awoken; it's easy to get overwhelmed by the tsunami of 'must dos'.
But does any of this fervent activity work? Well, it certainly does no harm--though cautions abound about doing too much shouting. And it's these helpful cautions that niggle me. Because what is 'too much'?Where's the line that should not be crossed? Does anyone really know what's right or wrong about about getting seen and heard? Nope, not with any certainty. When faced with a marketing opportunity note the marked hesitation and the shuffling retreat if you ask for absolute qualification of success. You won't get a answer, not a straight one anyway.
Disheartened? Don't be, it a cacophonic world out there and the melody is discordant for most. So screw any mistakes you might make, screw whether you got the volume of your shout right, screw your own lack of harmony. Be brave. Whether by way of a serene whisper or an open throated bellow, embrace the need to be heard rather than the 'right' way of making your sound, because when it comes to getting noticed one certainty does exist: Silence isn't golden, its suicide!
Hard to Protect, Book 3 in the Hard to... and Black Ops Heroes series, (releasing March 20th) is featured in a giveaway on Goodreads. Woot!
Might be English, the words all familiar, but can you translate this sentence so it makes sense?
"It nearly knocked me off my plates—he was wearing a syrup! So I ran up the apples, got straight on the dog to my trouble and said I couldn't believe me mincers."
No clue as to what in the hell that means? You would not be alone. It’s London Cockney Rhyming Slang. Colourful but damn near impenetrable, because rhyme and foreshortening get in on the act. Here’s how it translates:
“It nearly knocked me off my feet—he was wearing a wig! So I ran up the stairs, got straight on the phone to my wife and said I couldn’t believe my eyes.”
Plates = plates of meat = feet
Syrup = syrup of figs = wig
Apples = apple and pears = stairs
Dog = dog and bone = phone
Trouble = trouble and strife = wife
Mincers = mince pies = eyes
So, to help out those travelling to London and wishing to avoid a ‘barney’ (Barney Rubble = trouble, as in fight), I’ve provided a short list of some common rhyming slang phrases to help you out. Enjoy…
Brahms and Liszt = pissed (drunk)
Brown bread = dead
Adam and Eve = believe
Boat = Boat Race = face
Bottle and glass = arse
Bubble Bath = laugh (as in, ‘having a bubble’)
Butcher’s hook = look ( as in, ‘having a butcher’s)
Half inch = to pinch (to steal)
Gypsy’s kiss = to piss
Vera Lynn = gin
Tommy tit = shit (as in, I don’t give a Tommy tit)
Actually, these guys say it better: (Note the credits at the end please). There, now you can travel with some confidence.
Have a favourite phrase you want to share? Add to comments....
My five kids are the stuff of nightmares, their favorite game: Who would you save? It’s not pleasant. I have to decide which of them gets to live or die if, say, they were all drowning simultaneously or, thanks to The Walking Dead, which one of them I’d rescue during the zombie apocalypse.
My stock answer ‘All of you’ (damn their sibling rivalry), breaks the rules, but I don’t care, it’s a horrible game. Though it did seed the idea for my third book Hard to Protect, releasing March 13th via Entangled Publishing, the research leading me an anxious dance through the subject of hysterical/superhuman strength, berserkers and the phrase ‘going postal’.
Anxious dance, because here are just three of the weird and wonderful facts I uncovered:
In 2006, Lydia Angiyou, a slight woman saved several children, including her young son, by wrestling an eight-foot, 700lb polar bear. A mother’s love, or adrenalin? Who knows, who cares—it ended well for Lydia and the children, but not so well for the bear (about which I am sorry—tranquillizer guns before rifles might be the way forward in this gun toting world of ours).
Oh, the trilogy draws to a close with A Different Life, but in Wendy Lou Jones' case, as one door closes another bursts open... I'm going to let Wendy herself provide context and introduction because this is her journey, and its only right that her words are used.
Back cover enticement to A Different Life - A rural romance perfect for fans of Joanna Trollope
Exiled to the country for bad behaviour, what did he expect? Certainly not her. Tristan’s mother is planning one last ditch attempt to reform her son. He is removed to the country where he meets Michelle, or he tries not to. The woman is not worth the shoes on his feet, or so he believes at first, but Michelle has a great deal she can teach him and she doesn’t wait long to start.
‘You mustn’t fall for his charms,’ they said. ‘You will never fit into his life.’
Can she change him enough to have a shot at the dream? Thrust together, these two spark-up a tenuous friendship and so the journey begins.
Buy Links: https://books.pronoun.com/a-different-life/
Wendy Lou Jones was born and raised in West Sussex, in the south of England. At 18, she moved to Birmingham to study Medicine at University, where she was lucky enough to meet her husband. She worked in hospitals, general practice and palliative care before starting a family, at which point she took a step back from medical life to concentrate on being a mum.
She now lives in a little village in Herefordshire with her husband and two grubby boys and discovered a love of writing not long after their youngest son started school. And if you were to ask her what it was that made her make the switch, she would tell you quite simply, that it started with a dream.
Website/Blog – www.wendyloujones.weebly.com
Twitter - @WendyLouWriter - https://twitter.com/WendyLouWriter
Facebook – www.facebook.com/escapeintolove
Email – email@example.com
Pinterest - https://uk.pinterest.com/wendyjonesy21/
about.me – https://about.me/wendyloujones
Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6983363.Wendy_Lou_Jones
Youtube - https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC7fYFRsJ7JAOQE41UUkDpAg
Yes, each title can be read as a thumping good stand-alone book, but your experience of Blackthorn will be so much more compelling, enriching, awesome, if you start with Book 1: Blood Shadows…
What sets Lindsay J Pryor apart:
Best: The characters—but then they have always rocked the Blackthorn series.
Best: The dark, dark atmosphere—sure, you'll want to travel the world of Blackthorn, but only if you’re armed.
Best: Hot heroes—you want to die for.
Best: Smart heroines—you want to be.
Best: Ms. Pryor does not shy away from rough and brutal...and sizzling
Best: Fluid, engaging prose—reading Blackthorn is kind of a hologram experience, with the action/characters/settings playing out in 3D, right in front of you.
Worst: Bastard cliffhangers…having to wait for the next book in the series.
Now, because this post is keeping me from finishing Blood Bound I’ll leave you to go find your wallet so you can buy—no, invest, in the entire Blackthorn series. But, because I’m a helpful soul (and I empathize with those of you who are nosier (more curious) that cats in a maze, I've provided some key links you can follow to find all you need on Ms Pryor: Buy links, Biography, Q&As (worth reading, Lindsay’s journey as a writer is enthralling), Interviews etc.
Eve Devon's Heart of Steel is a terrific romantic suspense read. When the prose is good (and it is), as a reader you submerge into the heart of the story, and a pretty bloody fine story it is. Enjoy.
Blurb: Heart of Steel, Steel Hawk, Book 2
Colleague, friend, lover…beautiful liar?
Adam Steel is in crisis mode. A recent exposé claims a founder of Steel Hawk was actually The Raven, an infamous jewel thief. Amid the ensuing damage control, all eyes are on his ability to develop a prototype to secure and protect the royal Pasha Star diamond.
He’s further blindsided when he learns his assistant, Honeysuckle Hawk, has a sordid past he never knew about. Proving he never really knew her, never should have trusted her, and definitely shouldn’t start falling for her.
With her dirty laundry flapping in the media storm, Honeysuckle’s first instinct is to run. Two things make her stay: Adam’s insistence it’s better to show the world a united front, and her heart’s insistence by his side is where she belongs.
High stakes and long hours ignite passion…until the diamond is stolen and Adam’s own prototype shows Honeysuckle is a thief. Dare he trust her to help him expose the real criminal—before the mastermind wreaks havoc on the royal family?
Warning: Contains an über-hot, alpha-geek who’s good with his hands, a sassy reformed-rebel determined to prove she’s not a flake, romantic castles, gorgeous jewels, sleek and sexy technology, heart-pounding suspense…oh, and nipple tassels!
Picking up his cup, he took a sip without even glancing at it, expecting the much-needed burst of dark-roasted coffee bean on his tongue and instead got…mush. “Honeysuckle,” he bellowed, holding up a hand to Edward to ask him to wait to speak again.
Honeysuckle cracked open his office door, an innocent expression on her face.
“What the hell is this?” he asked, pointing to the mug as if it were alive.
“It’s a protein shake.”
“A protein shake?”
Edward snorted, and Adam offered up his death glare. To his personal assistant, he demanded, “Do I look like the kind of guy who needs a protein shake to take a meeting?” knowing damn well he didn’t and thinking, if she did leave, he definitely wouldn’t miss the disgusting concoctions she seemed to delight in making especially for him.
“Did you have dinner last night?” she asked.
“Yes, I had dinner, last—” Wait, had he? He’d gotten so involved with working on his prototype, he couldn’t actually remember.
Honeysuckle gave him an extra-patient “uh-huh” and added, “Drink up. Then you get the coffee,” before closing the office door behind her.
Adam stood, picked up the mug, and emptied the entire contents into his ficus plant, muttering, “I’m seriously thinking about firing her.”
“Word around the office,” Edward interjected, “is she’s already resigned. Although I have to say, I’m not totally surprised if you can’t be trusted to remember the basics, like feeding yourself.”
“Funny guy,” Adam muttered and then settled himself back behind his desk. “So what were you going to say before she tried to poison me?”
Edward sobered and glanced at the door. “About the book that’s coming out—most of it is dedicated to Nathaniel Hawk with extra material about many of the Hawks who came after.” Edward’s hand came up to smooth his tie. “Apparently, there’s an entire section dedicated to Honeysuckle. Complete with photographs.”
“Honeysuckle?” Why the hell would Honeysuckle be in anyone’s book? Okay, the Steels and Hawks were known in San Francisco as being from a particular social set. Sometimes a certain lifestyle came with that money, but… Oh. “Look, if there are a couple of photographs of her coming out of a club, maybe a little drunk—”
“Oh, there are definitely photographs of her coming out of a club. She’s not drunk, though. She’s in costume. For her job. As a burlesque dancer.”
Adam blinked, frowned, and possibly did some blinking again. He’d never know, because he was pretty certain he’d just fried something in his brain. “Excuse me?”
“Burlesque. You know, dancing, hardly any clothes, then, even fewer clothes—”
Yeah, that was what he’d thought he’d said. “Give me your coffee.”
“Give me your damn coffee,” Adam said, then reached over, picked up Edward’s cup, and drank the entire contents down in three gulps. Damn it to hell, turned out he had never, he realized, never, actually, known anything about his assistant at all. The burning sensation in his mouth did absolutely nothing to temper the heat coursing through him as the Honeysuckle from his dream walked center stage into his head, winked, and blew him a kiss from behind an ostrich-feather fan.
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Eve Devon writes sexy heroes, sassy heroines, and happily ever afters…
Growing up in locations like Botswana and Venezuela gave Eve a taste for adventure and her love for romances began when her mother shoved one into her hands in a desperate attempt to keep her quiet during TV coverage of the Wimbledon tennis finals!
When she wasn’t consuming books by the bucket-load, she could be found pretending to be a damsel in distress or running around solving mysteries and writing down her adventures. As a teenager, Eve rewrote countless episodes of TV detective dramas so that the hero and heroine would end up together every week. As an adult, still hooked on romance and mysteries, she worked in a library to conveniently continue reading books by the bucket-load, until realising she herself was destined to write contemporary romance and romantic suspense.
She lives in leafy Surrey in the UK, a book-devouring, slightly melodramatic, romance-writing sassy heroine with her very own sexy-hero husband.
Where you can find her:
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Hard Men the Hard Way